Love and Lies: A Jake Badger Mystery Thriller

by Glenn Rogers

  Wilson barked, asking if he could come out of the bedroom now.

  “Yes,” I said. “Come on.”

  He bounded into the room and greeted Heidi enthusiastically. She gave him a good scratch behind the ears.

  “We were just going to have some pizza,” I said. “Want some?”

  “Sure, I'll have a slice.”

  She went to my little dining table and sat down while I got two plates. I hoped she wouldn't see the bullet hole in the back of my shirt.

  She did.

  “Jake, you have a hole in your shirt. How did you ...? Is that a bullet hole?” Her voice went up an octave.

  I turned, shaking my head and putting up my hands. “I'm fine,” I said, and tapped on my chest. “Kevlar. I'm fine.”

  “What happened?” she asked.

  I thought about it for a split second and decided that she had a right to know. So I told her. I told her who Jimmy really was and what he was doing at Security Specialists. I told her about my meeting with Jasper Pipestone and about the subsequent sniper.

  Her eyes filled with tears. “This is all my fault,” she said, as the tears overflowed.

  “Heidi, none of this is your fault. You’re an innocent victim in all of this.”

  “If I hadn't been so frightened by David's father… I should have handled that myself.”

  I was shaking my head. “No. No, you shouldn't have. You did the right thing by talking to me and then talking to Jimmy. You did nothing wrong in any of this.”

  “But Jimmy’s dead and now someone's trying to kill you.”

  “Yes,” I said. “But that has nothing to do with your stalker or Jimmy talking to your stalker. Those things and their coming after me are completely unrelated events.”

  She wanted to believe me but she wasn't sure.

  “Heidi,” I said, “Jimmy—Jason—was at the club as part of his cover. He was DEA. He'd infiltrated a drug distribution ring. He was gathering evidence so the DEA could bust them. His cover got blown. They killed him. Simple as that. Nothing to do with you. Those events just happen to correspond to your stalker. Nothing more.”

  She nodded and looked down. I opened the pizza and put a slice on her plate.

  She looked up, almost as if she’d had an epiphany, and said, “But now they're trying to kill you.”

  “But not because of anything you did. Pipestone wants to kill me because of what I did. It's completely unrelated to anything you did.”

  “Jake,” Heidi said, tears filling her eyes again, “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

  “Trying to kill me,” I said, “and killing me are not the same thing. Lots of people have tried to kill me. I'm still here.”

  She studied me a moment and took a bite of pizza. I could see that she still wasn’t fully convinced.

  I said, “So, you said things at work were uncomfortable?”

  She took a deep breath. “The guy that replaced Jimmy … Jason … whoever he was.” She shook her head in frustration. “The new guy is named Stan. I think I told you that already.”

  “You did.”

  As I was reaching for another slice of pizza, she said, “Well, this afternoon he started asking me questions about Jimmy and about you.”

  I put my pizza down and looked at her.

  “He called him Jimmy,” she said, “not Jason.”

  “What was he asking?” I asked.

  She shook her head as she focused on remembering. “He wanted to know if I knew Jimmy very well, if Jimmy told me much about his work. That sort of thing. He asked if I knew a private detective named Badger. And he asked me if I knew much about the company he worked for, Security Specialists.”

  “What'd you tell him?”

  “I told him that Jimmy and I weren't close. That Jimmy never talked with me about his work. I told him I did know you, that you were a friend and a really nice guy. I told him about you taking the time to teach my little brother some self-defense stuff. And I told him that I didn't know anything about the company he worked for other than the name, Security Specialists, and that they supply security people for different kinds of businesses.”

  “He was fishing,” I said. “Trying to see if you know anything that might prove to be a problem for them.”

  “Am I in danger?” she asked.

  “Based on what you told them,” I said, “probably not. You didn't know anything that could present them with a problem.”

  She seemed to relax a little.

  “But that was earlier today. As of a few minutes ago, you know plenty that could be problematic for them.”

  “But they don't know that I know any of that,” she said. “And now I know to be careful about what I say.”

  I nodded. To a degree, she was right. “The only problem,” I said, “might be that you and I are friends. They might try to get to me through you.”

  The look of fear crept back into her eyes.

  “But I'm going to do everything I can,” I said, “to discourage that sort of behavior.”

  Chapter 23

  It took most of the pizza to get Heidi calmed down, but I think she was more relaxed when she left than she had been when she came over. I changed shirts, opting for one that didn't have a bullet hole in the back, selected an alternative sport jacket, and took Wilson for a walk. No one shot at us.

  A few minutes after eight, Alex called.

  “Up for another early breakfast meeting?”

  “Sure.”

  “David Hoffmeyer,” he said.

  “Hyper Hoffmeyer,” I said.

  “Not so much as he used to be.”

  “Okay,” I said, “when and where?”

  “Same place, same time,” Alex said.

  That was fine with me. “IHOP on Bundy at six-thirty.”

  “See you then,” Alex said, about to disconnect.

  “Hey, can you do something else for me?”

  “Sure.”

  “I need personal data on a Jasper Pipestone.”

  “Seriously? There's a person named Jasper Pipestone?”

  “Heads up Security Specialists. Very dangerous guy I'm told.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Sent a sniper after me today.”

  There was silence on Alex's side of the conversation. I waited. “How good?” Alex finally asked.

  “Good enough to get me,” I said. “Fortunately I was wearing Kevlar.”

  “So you were expecting it?”

  “I was expecting something.”

  “I'll get everything I can find on him.”

  I got to the Haywire in Reseda a little after nine. It was noisy and crowded and smelled of beer and sweat, a haven for rednecks looking to drink a lot of beer and get laid. A band on the stage played badly, but at least they were loud. I elbowed my way to the bar and ordered a Coke Zero from a thirty-something brunette who had friendly eyes but looked like she spent way too much time lifting weights.

  When she brought my Coke I said, “Looking for a guy named Theodor Milton.” I had to raise my voice because the music was so loud.

  Her friendly eyes became vague. She shook her head.

  I put a fifty on the bar. “I just want to talk to him. A mutual friend said he could help me out. Said I could find Theodor here.”

  She regarded me a moment, more speculatively than she should have, and then picked up the fifty. She scanned the tables between the bar and the stage, pointed with her chin and said, “Third table on the left. Burgundy shirt, brown hair, big nose.”

  I saw him. She was right. Big nose. In fact, it was almost too big to be called a nose. “Thanks,” I said.

  Theodor sat alone at a small table just big enough to put a few beer bottles or glasses on. I took my Coke over and sat in one of the two empty chairs next to that table. He looked at me as if I had invaded his personal space. It was hard not to look at his nose.

  “Hey Theodor,” I said. “How ya doing?”

  He regarded me a moment. “I know y
ou?”

  “Not yet.”

  “How you know my name?”

  “Mutual friend.”

  “Yeah? Who?”

  I shook my head. “I think he would prefer to remain anonymous.”

  Theodor took a sip of beer.

  He was medium height but very thin and angular, which made his nose look even bigger than it was. His dark eyes were set deep in his head and looked cautious.

  “This mutual friend of ours,” he said, “why’d he give you my name?”

  “He says you know a lot of stuff.”

  Theodor nodded. “Lot a stuff.”

  “He says you pass important information on to important people.”

  Theodor took another sip of beer.

  “So I thought you might pass on a piece of information for me.”

  Theodor waited.

  “I used to work for the FBI. I don’t work for them anymore. There’s an organization out there, let’s call it the syndicate. Turns out that the FBI has an informant inside the syndicate. I thought they might like to know who it is.”

  Theodor regarded me for a moment. I drank some of my Coke. Finally, he said, “You wanting to switch sides?”

  I shrugged. “Just trying to pass on some information they might be interested in.”

  “So, who is this informant?” Theodor asked.

  I smiled and shook my head.

  Theodor said, “Suppose I knew someone who might be interested in this information you got. How would he get hold of you?”

  I gave Theodor my card.

  He put it in his shirt pocket and I left.

  Chapter 24

  Wilson and I went for an early run. I wore my Kevlar and carried my small .357. It was a cool and pleasant morning and no one tried to kill me, so all in all it was a good way to start the day. I got to the restaurant on time this time, but Alex and David were already there.

  David Hoffmeyer is a beanpole of a guy with a pointy nose and almost no chin. He has very long fingers. He also has a Ph.D. in forensic psychology.

  I sat. We ordered. Alex explained that he and I were reopening the investigation into my failed sting operation.

  “Good,” David said. “There was a mole, wasn't there?”

  Alex and I looked at each other.

  “Why would you say that?” I asked.

  “Because despite what the official agency report said, an informant is the only explanation that makes any sense.”

  We both waited for him to explain.

  “That operation was perfectly planned and would have been perfectly executed if we'd had the chance to execute it. But they knew it was a set up. They came to the meeting knowing what was going down. The only way they could have known is if they had someone on the inside.”

  He looked from me to Alex and back to me. He nodded. “You reached the same conclusion, didn't you? That's why we're here. Took you long enough.”

  He looked at each of us and took a sip of his coffee. We were both studying him.

  “It wasn't me. You have to look closely at each of us. I understand that. But it wasn't me. Have you talked to anyone else on the team? Or am I the first? If you don't want to tell me, that's okay.”

  I guess our expressions betrayed our amusement, because David, rather sheepishly, said, “I'm sorry. I got carried away, didn't I? Happens when I get excited.”

  “I remember,” I said.

  He smiled.

  Our food came so we took a moment to make sure everything had been prepared to our exacting standards. I had eggs—over medium, hash browns, and bacon, crisp. Alex had his usual, a Belgian waffle. Hoffmeyer had a western omelet. Everyone appeared to be satisfied.

  I found it interesting that David had reached the same conclusion Alex and I had reached, except, apparently he’d reached it sooner. I doubted that he was the informant. But I wanted to stick with my plan. So after a few bites, I said, “So, David, I find your conclusion regarding our operation interesting.”

  He nodded.

  “I have a reliable source who tells me that the syndicate did have an informant in the agency.”

  David took another sip of coffee and waited. He seemed to know there was more coming. As he put another bite of omelet in his mouth, I said, “My source also tells me that an informant remains in place in the agency.”

  He stopped chewing for a moment, nodded, and then resumed chewing and swallowed. “Makes sense,” he said. “Also makes it all the more imperative that we discover who it is.”

  “We?” Alex said.

  Hoffmeyer looked a little hurt. “Hey, I was part of the team. A report that says the operation failed as a result of poor planning and poor execution reflects badly on all of us, not just you two. Besides, I liked Elaine, too. She was a good agent and a nice person.”

  We were quiet for a moment as we ate.

  Then I said, “There's something else.”

  David gave me his attention. “We have an informant inside the syndicate.”

  David smiled. “Excellent. Your mole is going to expose their mole.”

  I gave a little shrug. “That's the plan, anyway,” I said.

  I felt a little guilty about lying, but I didn't know what else to do.

  David said, “What do you need from me to rule me out?”

  He looked from me to Alex.

  I said, “I don't know that there's anything we need from you, David. But I will answer your earlier question. We've already talked to Christine and Lowell, and we will be talking to Kraft and Brandt.”

  David was nodding as he finished off his omelet. He drained his coffee cup and then sat back and laced his long, skinny fingers together and rested his skeleton-like hands on the edge of the table. He looked at me, waiting for whatever else was coming.

  I asked, “Who do you think it was?”

  Shaking his head, he said, “I've been over it and over it. I've looked at every single person involved, including you two, considering every possible motive I can imagine. And I can't figure it. I've no idea.”

  “Neither can we,” Alex said.

  “If you had to guess,” I said. “who would you look at?”

  “Either Brandt or Kraft.”

  After David left, Alex asked. “Think it was him?”

  “No.”

  “We're running out of suspects,” he said.

  Chapter 25

  The waitress refilled Alex's coffee cup and offered to bring me more hot water for tea. I still had some hot water in the small carafe she had brought be earlier, so I declined.

  Alex pulled a sheet of paper from the inside pocket of his suit coat. It was folded in thirds. Handing it to me, he said, “Pipestone.”

  “Thank you,” I said, unfolding it. It was Jasper Pipestone's personal data. He was forty-two, married—wife's name Rachel, thirty-eight, two kids—a boy eight, a girl six. He lived in North Hills, not far from the Mission Hills Golf Course on Patton Drive.

  The report also noted that he was suspected in a number of drug-related crimes but had never been arrested. There was an email address and a cell phone number.

  I nodded. “This is what I needed,” I said. “Thanks.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I'm going to discourage him from trying to kill me.”

  “Do I want to know how you are going to do that?”

  “Probably not,” I said.

  He finished off his coffee. “So who's next? Kraft or Brandt?”

  “Kraft, I think. You said he was in San Francisco now?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I'll try to get up there maybe day after tomorrow.”

  “Why wait?” Alex asked.

  “Court appearance today. Leventhal trial. Then I need to deal with Pipestone. Kraft’s number three on my to-do list.”

  “Want me to call and make sure he'll be available?”

  “That would be helpful,” I said.

  “I'll call you later.”

  “What about Warren and Griff
en?”

  “Already got people working in that. I suspect there’s nothing there.”

  “I agree. I don’t think it was them or Hoffmeyer.”

  “I’ll make the call to Kraft,” Alex said.

  I took Wilson to the office and got the coffee maker going for Mildred. I told Wilson I’d see him later and left for the courthouse in L.A.

  Albert Leventhal had been in charge of William Ryan’s campaign. Ryan wanted to be governor of California. He was raising and spending a ton of money. But he suspected that his money was disappearing a little too fast. He had hired me to investigate. Turns out that Leventhal had set up a number of media and communication companies under other names and was using them to promote Ryan. That, by itself was problematic. To make matters worse, as the campaign manager, he was paying his companies several times the normal rates to do Ryan’s promotion. When I’d discovered Leventhal’s neat little scam, I confronted him. He didn’t react well. He’d had a jumbo-sized bodyguard with him, a guy named Franklin, who tried to shoot me. Franklin went to the hospital before he went to jail; Leventhal went straight to jail. I’d given a deposition a few months ago right after the events had occurred. Now I needed to tell the story in court and be cross-examined by Leventhal’s defense attorneys.

  When I arrived at the courthouse, I found the right courtroom and I sat down in the back. The DA was at his table in front shuffling paper. In a moment, he saw me and nodded. When it was my turn, I was called to the stand and sworn in. The DA proceeded to ask his questions in a manner that allowed me to tell the story of Leventhal’s scam. Then he asked me if I confronted Leventhal with the evidence I’d gathered. I explained that I had. What had happened during that confrontation? I told the story, including Leventhal’s instruction to Franklin to shoot me. I explained how I had disarmed and disabled Franklin.

  When the DA was satisfied, he sat down and Leventhal’s defense attorney, a plain-looking, no nonsense woman in her forties named Ms. Williams, stood up and strode confidently toward me.

  After a few innocuous questions, Ms. Williams asked, “Mr. Badger, are you aware that one of the crimes my client is being charged with is conspiracy to commit murder?”