Bye Bye Bones (A CASSIDY CLARK NOVEL Book 1)

by Lala Corriere

  “It should be easy for you to understand that I have access to muriatic acid. I have over two-hundred gallons stored right here. It’s a swimming pool supply necessity. And do you know, I think it’s better than the hydrochloric stuff? If you do it right there is no trace of any human remains. Gone. Gone. Gone. I’ve been doing it right. I just wanted to try out the curare. I want this to be perfect for my next guest. You know her. My last threat. Jessica Silva.

  “Time. Eyes open or closed. Your choice. Either way, you’ll feel everything up to the instant of your death. What I don’t know is if it’s the curare that will kill you, because you will stop breathing, or if it will be the acid.”

  Connie chose. She closed her eyes as Vickery jabbed the needle into her victim’s arm.

  Chapter Forty- Eight

  JAXON GILES HAD been working a deal for seven months. A big deal.

  The land currently housed a four-story office building. The property, a virtual scientific experiment in black mold, termite condos, and multiple code violations, could be demolished cheaper than being made inhabitable.

  Situated in the middle of the plat designated for the Tucson downtown revitalization project, which had been on hold for years, the property now presented itself as a prime opportunity.ryt

  Jaxon already had two investors drooling for the opportunity.

  The seller’s assistant texted Jaxon. The owner of the property would be there at seven that evening. He was to bring the listing agreement to be signed.

  An unusual time for any commercial real estate broker, Jaxon overly prepared for the meeting and arrived downtown fifteen minutes early. The unlocked door and interior lights invited him in, but he still knocked.

  “Mr. Greenwald? Mr. Greenwald? It’s Jaxon Giles.”

  Silence.

  A light faintly shined through down a dismal interior corridor. Jaxon proceeded.

  Cranky old bastard, Jaxon thought. He’s getting a deal of a lifetime and he’s making me play hide and seek.

  “Mr. Greenwald?”

  Jaxon neared the office he knew to be in the back. He found the door, barely hanging on the aged hinges, ajar.

  No sign of Mr. Greenwald.

  Scented candles flickered.

  “Oh my God,” Jaxon uttered.

  MANNING WAS NEXT to arrive at the scene, after his first responders. He’d already called me. So had Jaxon Giles, after he dialed 911.

  Jaxon grabbed my arm and pulled me inside. Blood smeared the littered office walls. That’s the first thing I saw, as it decorated all four walls.

  The shrine, in the middle of the room and alit with more than twenty candles, rose up from crude cement block steps. Photographs of a woman were crudely attached to the walls or littered on the floor.

  “Jaxon, who is this?” I asked.

  “It’s my—it’s my ex-girlfriend.”

  The red envelope remained at the base of the largest photograph of the woman.

  “You’ve not touched this?” Manning asked Jaxon.

  “No,” he said, holding his hands above his head and backing away.

  Manning lifted the envelope with his gloved hands, only after it had been photographed. The envelope had not been sealed. He removed the contents. A single sheet of pink paper.

  The note read, “It’s after seven. Do you know where your skank is?”

  “David, this is not a threat.” Stress. I needed my friend and his name was David.

  “Damn well it is,” Manning answered.

  “Listen to me. In the mind of a psychopath this is a receipt.”

  “What the heck are you saying? We have to move on.”

  “Not until you realize that it’s a receipt. It means the deed is done.”

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  CONNIE’S DAUGHTER RECEIVED Jaxon’s frantic call on her cell. Manning had him put the call on speaker.

  “I didn’t run away this time, honest,” the girl said. “I told Mom I wanted to go on a sailing trip with friends in San Carlos. She was totally cool with it.”

  “Did your mom mention any plans of hers while you were gone?”

  “Sure. She had to be in Tucson on some business. My friends drove me back from San Carlos yesterday and Mom will be picking me up later this evening.”

  “You’re here? In Tucson?”

  “Yes. And I was only gone for four nights. Just like I promised. Honest.”

  Manning spoke, “This is Chief David Manning with the Tucson Police Department. Do you mind telling us where you are right now?”

  She stammered, “I’m—I’m at my friend’s parents’ house in Vail. Mom will be here around six. What’s going on? Jaxon, are you there?”

  “I’m here, honey. Have you heard from your mom? Do you know where she was conducting business?”

  “No, and no. But that’s not unusual. She needs to know where I am every minute of the day and yet she never really shares much with me. You’re starting to really freak me out, Jaxon. Is Mom okay?”

  “We believe your mom is fine,” Manning said. “We just have to get some information from you to help us figure out some things. Do you mind if we come by your friend’s house?”

  “If Jaxon comes,” she said.

  JAXON CLIMBED INTO MY Mustang when I insisted he was too upset to drive.

  “What happened to the man you were supposed to meet here?” I asked.

  “I called him. He told me he didn’t know what I was talking about. He said he’d never make an appointment after five, with anyone, because he has bad night vision and he likes to start imbibing at 5:01.”

  “You and Jessica Silva both have restraining orders against Ms. Vickery. I warn you. No more accidental contacts. If you walk into a restaurant, a movie theater, an event… and you see her. Walk away.

  “She’s a clever girl. Much more. I believe she’s more dangerous than you give her credit for. You’ve told me that she won’t harm you, but that she wants to harm anything and everything you hold dear. The problem is that she must know we are all on to her. That makes her more dangerous than ever. She may escalate in her violence.”

  “Like what?” Jaxon asked.

  “Like, she may want to take you both out so that you can be with one another in a world beyond. That kind of danger.”

  “You don’t think she has something to do with Connie?”

  “She could have learned you want to list that property. Hell, it’s not a stretch that she could know the owner likes his cocktails, at home, at five. And it was you that told me your old girlfriend and her daughter felt forced to move away after some ugly encounters with Vickery.”

  I continued driving north on Oracle Road, irritated with the arrival of the snowbirds and their navigational abilities. Our destination was Oro Valley, the far northwest side of the metropolitan area, where most of the buildings were years younger than the occupants.

  Jaxon glanced over at me a few times, always looking away as soon as I acknowledged his gaze.

  “You stayed on the case, even when I quit you,” his said.

  “That’s my job. That’s my mission.”

  “And you think Connie is now a victim?”

  “It’s way too early to jump to conclusions. We’re going to find out what we can from Connie’s daughter, keep her calm, and make sure she has a place to stay.”

  “I’m well aware of those instincts you have. Now? Do you think Sandra Vickery is behind this.”

  I turned away. “My blood boils. I sense an evil. I can tell you to stay away from this woman and pay attention. The devil is in the details, Jaxon. Stay safe and, when we go home tonight and anytime thereafter, call me when anything doesn’t feel right.”

  I knew I wouldn’t be going home that night. My pupcakes wouldn’t be able to hold their bladders, and I still hadn’t seen a trace of my cat. I cared, but they would all be okay in my absence.

  I ONCE HEARD THAT RED Skelton slept only four hours a night. His need and desire was to paint a clown for his wife in the wee h
ours of the morning. Every morning. Years ago I had trained myself to get by on five hours or less of sleep a night. Really. It was training. I knew I’d have long hours of surveillance and paperwork and footwork, and I needed my writing time. I had no idea my books would become best-sellers. For me, it was about the selfish creative release.

  Maybe I was just lucky that I didn’t require much sleep. Maybe it was because I didn’t have anyone to sleep in with until it was time for Champagne Sunday brunch.

  I found myself in Chief Manning’s office at dawn. He was already in his office, but I do think he’d had a night of sleep. At least he had shaved.

  “Cassidy, we’ve checked Vickery out, again. She’s cleaner than a surgeon’s scalpel soaking in alcohol.”

  “Must have been grain alcohol. Or that tequila with the worm floating in it.”

  Manning tossed his worn boots up on his desk. I’d never seen him do that before but at least I didn’t take it as a threat.

  “She doesn’t have as much as a traffic ticket, paid or unpaid, as far as we can look back.”

  I tilted my head so far to the side that my neck hurt. “Have you ever heard that money can fix a ticket and a whole lot more?”

  “Tell me something I don’t know, otherwise I don’t see it. You have a disgruntled divorcee who may have been stalking her ex, but nothing else.”

  “You don’t see it because you’re being a horse’s ass. I love you, but you’re my sorry asshole buddy. Blinded by all the crap that floats around you under the disguise of politics. Take your own buddy, the honorable mayor.”

  Manning’s feet dropped to the floor. “You know I have to answer to him, Cass. This is an appointed position. Not elected. It’s my job to follow the rules and that is exactly why you’re no longer on the force.”

  I straightened my feet flat on the floor and squared my shoulders. “So, here you have a Ms. Sandra Vickery, dripping in Mikimoto pearls while writing out her big fat checks to the mayor, our senators, congresspersons, the governor, and toss in a few local police authorities. Hell, if I look back far enough I bet the woman even hedged her bets, contributing to both parties in a heated race. All under the radar. What did she give you?”

  “I serve the people. I have and I will.”

  “By letting this She Devil own you?”

  “That’s enough of your insults. You dig deep. Give me something more than the fact that she’s acquainted with everyone in town and that she happens to own a fleet of commercial vans and happens to own a few of them with magnetic signs. Until then, our investigation is headed in a different direction.”

  “With Jaxon Giles’ ex-girlfriend? Wasn’t that enough for you?”

  “You’re no longer a part of our official team, and I’m sorry about that. I wish you were. I went out on a limb contracting with you in the first place. It’s just these damn budget cuts are crippling.”

  “Always the money.”

  “I may have to let some of the force go. That’s another thing you don’t seem to comprehend. We have rules and protocols, and we have budgets. None of those words register with you.

  I’d give him that. They didn’t.

  Chapter Fifty

  I STARTED WITH MY OWN surveillance. We’d had enough new cases drip in that my team was maxed out and now relying on my help.

  Wonderful. I had both allergies and a massive sinus infection. I already felt like crap, but then I remembered practically accusing David Manning of selling out for an underpaid, stressful job that comes largely without accolades, but rather engulfed in the opposite emotions called outrage and disrespect.

  I was second guessing my decision to let Tracy ride along with me. We needed girl time. I’d usually grow bored, but I did have my tablet and I could be writing. She was urgent to ride along. Or sit.

  She climbed into the passenger seat, loaded with books and tabloid magazines. “I’m ready for the big night. You did tell me these things are a drag, right?”

  “A twosome is just to keep one person from falling asleep,” I said.

  I reached and pulled out the boxes of Chinese food from the tattered bench seat behind me, passed them to Tracy, and drove toward the Vickery estate.

  I sneezed. “Sorry, Tracy. I’m not contagious. My allergies are kicking up.”

  I turned to glance at her just as she asked me to pull over.

  Tracy hopped out of the van and puked. And puked again.

  I got out of the van and handed her what facial tissues I had. “I’m taking you home. I don’t want to catch whatever it is you have.”

  “Let’s keep driving. I’m not contagious, either,” she said.

  The bold ebony eyes told me everything, as if reading smoke messages in clear blue skies. I leaned against the already peeling edges of my magnetic sign.

  “Spare me. I know what you’re thinking,” Tracy said.

  “I’m hoping it’s Kermit the Frog’s kid and you’ll name your firstborn daughter Kermita.”

  Her shoulders slumped forward as she dabbed at her chin with the remnants of the last tissue.

  “Okay. That was a dumb thing to say. Are you certain of the father?”

  “Michael Scores.” She straightened her back and said, “Have you heard from him?”

  “He’s off the radar. Yours, too, I guess. Manning is working on it. They’ll find him. Maybe he’s off getting his act and affairs in order and he’ll show up back here.”

  She crawled into the van. “Do me one favor. Eat the rest of your Chinese food and get it out of this van before I vomit again.”

  I tossed the food after grabbing three more bites of Kung Pao Chicken. “What are you going to do?”

  “The baby? I’ll be its home for nine months and welcome him or her in to my life.”

  “I’ll help you, you know.”

  “With what? Putting Scores behind bars?”

  “With the baby.”

  I SLOWED DOWN as we approached the property. We parked for about ten minutes and then I edged the van toward the back. “I have to leave you for a few minutes. I need to check something out.”

  “Wait a minute. I thought this was a stakeout. Don’t we stay in our vehicle?”

  “You do. I need to take a good look at that outbuilding. Five minutes. It’s Thursday night and our Ice Princess plays Mahjongg at her fancy country club. You have your cell. And one touch on this little gadget gets you a direct line to Manning.” I pointed to the magic button.

  “But—”

  My gut told me she would be fine. Maybe not so much, me.

  I APPROACHED THE BACK fence. No surprise. Razor wire. Bolts. Electronic keypads.

  Easy for me. I wanted to look inside that building, and the only windows that I could spy were on the far side. Stupid clerestories that were high and unattainable. But for me.

  I had just scaled the side of the building when I sneezed. A double whammy, and I’m holding back number three.

  Blazing lights flared. I was the prey with nowhere to hide.

  I grabbed my cell. “Tracy, get the hell out of here. Drive away. Now.”

  “Freeze, lady!”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  “LOVELY TO SEE YOU here, my dear,” Chief Manning said as an officer led me to his private sanctum.

  “And lovely of you to invite me into your inner sanctum, otherwise known as this crap office.”

  “Speaking of crap, it scares the crap out of me, but dare I ask what you were doing inside the Vickery compound?”

  “I went out for a walk. I got lost.”

  “With wire clippers on you? Spare me.”

  “A girl always has to be prepared. I saw shelter.”

  “No monsoon. No extreme heat. No frigid temperatures.”

  “Cut to the chase. Get me my arraignment and get me out of here. I have things to do.”

  Manning stared at me with an ingratiating pregnant pause. “There will be no arraignment.”

  “What? Go directly to jail without the chance to buy Boardw
alk or Park Place?”

  “Ms. or Mrs. Vickery, as I’ve not yet learned what she demands to be called, is not pressing charges against you.”

  “What a girl.”

  “As long as you stay in compliance.”

  Manning shoved the envelope over to me.

  “You have to be kidding me. She’s taking out a restraining order on me?”

  “Correction. She has taken out a restraining order on you. I’m warning you, Cassidy, stay away from this woman or next time you will be in the pokey.”

  “David, I have to get this woman. I have to get information. You know the drill.”

  “So, suddenly I’m back to being David.”

  “I vacillate.”

  “I believe you. I believe in you. But, again, you have to give me something—anything, I can go on. Meanwhile, remember Vickery is a powerful and formidable force in the community.”

  “She’s a rich bitch. And I’ll nail her. What about the FBI?”

  “They choose to believe the incidents are unrelated. They’re going after some south of the border cartels.”

  “Excellent. So they care nothing about our backyard and that means that are out of our hair. Except, of course, they want to know everything that we know and what we are doing.

  “Remember those bones found down south?”

  “Of course I do. I told you I didn’t think they were illegals, with their teeth knocked out.”

  “Italian mob.”

  “And you know this, how?”

  “Give me some credit, Cassidy. It was the Italian mob. My problem and not yours.

  “Go home. Get cleaned up. I want you back in my office in three hours and I want you to tell me what thorn is up your sorry ass, and why.”

  “Why. A good choice of words. Why? You fired that ass of mine.”

  “Because you’re my friend and for some crazy reason I trust your weird instincts. But heed my words. Stay away from Vickery. Tread lightly. Maybe you can get your geek, Schlep, in on this, from a distance called the internet.”