Dead Drop

by Emma Rose Watts

  “Ah the missus riding you again? Has she got one of those honey-do lists? That’s why I never got married. It’s too much work. You know, when I go home I like to chill and relax. I don’t want a million jobs around the house.”

  “Hanson!”

  “Okay. Okay. Geesh.”

  There was a long pause as both of them looked out the windows at the traffic clogging up the roads. Harvey hated the big cities. Too much traffic. Too much smog. Too many people. It made his skin crawl. At one time Elizabeth had wanted to move to Tallahassee because she thought owning an antiques store there would be more profitable but Harvey nipped that idea in the bud immediately.

  “Tell me something, Hanson. Does Davenport ever talk to you about me?”

  He chuckled. “Paranoid, are we?”

  “Curious.”

  “Occasionally,” he said pulling out a bottle of water from a bag around his shoulder and cracking the top. “A couple of days ago he wanted me to handle a few files.”

  “The Summers and Thompson cases?” Harvey asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Harvey rolled his eyes and sighed. “Great.”

  “Ah he does that. Don’t worry, he goes through phases where he will hand off a case to one officer then take it away and give it to another. I swear it’s some kind of OCD. He did it to me in March and April with the…”

  “Parkinson and Ellis cases?”

  He laughed. “Ah so you ended up with them.”

  “Yeah,” Harvey said.

  “I swear Davenport needs his head checked.”

  Harvey laughed as they pulled up outside the cream-colored building at 18805 27th Avenue. It had been a long time since he’d spent any time working alongside Hanson. Before Harvey lost his sister they got along well. So much had changed since then. They parked and headed into the building. Outside the temperature was extraordinarily high. It was too hot to be out and he didn’t like the idea of camping outside Bo Gonzales’ home. The Miami-Dade Police Department said they would send over a few plainclothes officers to check out his apartment while they were making their way down, on the off chance they spotted him.

  “Detective. Good to see you.”

  “Please tell me you found him?” Harvey said, hoping the trip could be cut short.

  “Unfortunately no. They’ve been outside his place all day. No one has come or gone. Though I do have some good news for you. We managed to pull in one of the Outlaws and he has an interesting story to tell about that night. Seems he was involved in bringing funds to Rapid Loans. If you want to come this way I’ll take you to him.”

  Chapter 11

  Skylar looked at the body of Nick Hammond. He was laid out on one of the sterile workbenches inside the medical examiner’s office. She was there to get the update and to check that there wasn’t anything they’d overlooked. A guy in his early twenties, thin frame, wearing specs and fumbling around with paperwork, hurried over.

  He pushed up his specs that had slipped down his nose and squinted.

  “The name’s Jameson, and you are?”

  “Skylar Reid,” she replied without taking her eyes off Nick. His body was covered with a white sheet up to his chest. His skin was pale and there was excessive bruising around the chest area.

  “Any word on Jenna?” Jameson asked.

  “She’s stable.”

  He shook his head. “I kind of feel lost without her here. She really was my lifeline,” Jameson said, dropping his pen. Skylar cut him a glance, noticing how anxious he was acting.

  “So what have you got for me?”

  “Well our initial findings led us to believe that the victim had died from blunt force trauma to the chest area, which you can see here,” he said pointing to his chest, which was a deep shade of purple. “Now while the crash played a role and may have led to a heart attack, it actually wasn’t that which killed him. With Jenna gone, and with the urgency of the case, I had them put a rush on the lab results and it appears our victim didn’t die from the heart attack. It was actually from poisoning.”

  “Poisoning?”

  “His body had a large amount of ethylene glycol. Which means he was poisoned by antifreeze.”

  “But wouldn’t he have tasted that?”

  “Not if it was mixed inside another drink. It has a sweet taste.”

  “Or if he’d already had one too many drinks,” Skylar said.

  “That as well,” Jameson said.

  Skylar tapped him on the shoulder. “There is hope for you yet, young padawan.”

  After exiting the medical examiner’s office, Skylar was making her way back to her truck when her phone began buzzing in her pocket. She fished it out and checked the caller ID. It was the school.

  “Hello?”

  “Ms. Reid, there has been an incident. Can you come to the school and pick up Sam?”

  “Oh please tell me he has not been beaten up. I don’t think I can…”

  “No. Sam is fine. It’s what he did to one of the kids.”

  Skylar’s stomach sank. She quickly hung up and hopped into her vehicle. Within five minutes she was parked outside the school and double-timed it down the hallway towards the reception area. This time she didn’t have to wait long. Principal Myers was already there to greet her along with Sam who was sitting outside her office. The moment he saw her his face lit up but Skylar just frowned and walked past him into Myers’ office.

  Once the door was closed and she’d taken a seat, Myers clasped her hands together, pursed her lips and breathed in deeply as if she was readying a speech she had been looking forward to giving for a long time.

  “It appears Sam got into an argument with one of the boys here at the school this morning and instead of dealing with it by coming to one of the teachers he decided to take matters into his own hands. Now a student has two black eyes, and a cut lip.”

  “This student wouldn’t by any chance be the same one that has been picking on him for the last two weeks, would it?”

  “Ms. Reid. I think you are missing the point here. This kind of behavior will not be tolerated. We have a zero tolerance for bullying.”

  “How do you know it wasn’t self-defense?”

  “Whether it was self-defense or not doesn’t matter. I can’t have students going home with black eyes and cut lips.”

  “Of course not except when it’s Sam.”

  “I’m not sure what you are implying,” Myers said.

  “He’s been bullied for over two weeks and no one has done anything.”

  “He should have come to us.”

  “I think a bruised eye should have been cause for concern, Ms. Myers. I thought your teachers are meant to look out for this kind of stuff?”

  “They do if the student shows up for school.”

  “Then maybe you can explain why Sam came home with a bruised eye?”

  “I understand you are frustrated but this conversation is about what Sam has done to another student. I cannot speak for what did or did not occur several days ago.”

  “I think it has a huge bearing on this situation. If you push people enough, eventually they are going to push back. That’s what’s happened here. This sounds like nothing more than self-defense.”

  “That’s not what other students have said. They said that Sam was the aggressor.”

  Skylar got up. “Do you mind?” she said opening the door. “I’m gathering you have asked Sam what happened, yes?”

  “Ms. Reid.”

  Skylar stepped out. “Sam, you care to join us so we can discuss what happened here?”

  He got up and walked in as Myers protested. “Ms. Reid. This is not how we deal with matters.”

  “No? Well maybe that’s the problem,” Skylar said. Both she and Sam took a seat and Myers pouted for a second or two and then when she realized she wasn’t going to get her way, she made a gesture with her hand towards Sam.

  “Sam, you want to explain what happened?” Skylar asked.

  He looked reluctant at f
irst but slowly he began to retell what occurred. “I was on my way out for break when Kirk Bowman and his goons pulled me into one of the bathrooms and tried to flush my head down the toilet. I told them to back off and pushed back but they wouldn’t listen. They just kept dragging me towards the toilet so I punched Kirk in the nuts, kicked his buddy in the knee and then managed to get up. I tried to get out the door but Steve, Kirk’s other friend, grabbed me. I used that move you showed me. You know the one where you use their weight against them. Anyway I threw him into the door behind me. Of course that blocked my way and by then Kirk was back up and coming at me. I used that block and punch technique and…”

  As he continued to go on, Skylar could see the look of horror on Ms. Myers’ face as Sam relayed all the techniques she’d taught him.

  “… Anyway, that’s what happened.”

  “Okay, Sam. If you want to head back out, I’ll finish up here,” Skylar said.

  The second the door was closed Myers tore into Skylar. “Are you in the habit of teaching your son how to hurt others? I cannot believe that.”

  “Hold on a minute. First, he’s not my son. Which only goes to show you don’t pay attention to details. Second, I did not teach him how to hurt others. I taught him how to protect himself. There is a big difference. And, for your information, if the teachers here aren’t going to watch out for him, what do you expect him to do? Take a beating? Because believe me, Ms. Myers, this situation could have very well ended with Sam being the one with two black eyes and a cut lip. Then what would you have done?”

  “I would be speaking with the other boys’ parents.”

  “Really? Because as far as I know in the two weeks that they’ve been pounding on him, your school hasn’t done squat!”

  Myers leaned over her table. “You know, I’ve heard about you. The new cop in town causing all manner of trouble. Let me tell you something…”

  Skylar got up and leaned across the table. “No, let me stop you right here. If you want to take this any further by all means — go ahead but I’m pretty sure people will be very interested in knowing how this school deals with bullying.”

  “But…”

  “I think we are done here. It was self-defense.”

  Skylar headed towards the door and stepped outside. “Sam. I will be here to pick you up at the end of the day. Enjoy your day.”

  He got this smile on his face as she walked away.

  Harvey walked out of the interview room shaking his head. The conversation with the member of the Outlaws was a complete letdown. The only information he had was to confirm that the Outlaws were the funding source behind Rapid Loans and that Bo Gonzales had a hit on his head for failing to pay them back. The Outlaws believed he concocted the whole story of his database being wiped in order to take the money they’d given him for clients and now he was keeping it for himself.

  “Makes you wonder why he would have agreed to get in bed with the Outlaws in the first place,” Hanson said. “Don’t these people ever think about the long-term problems that could arise?”

  “These kinds of people don’t think, period,” Harvey said as they headed out of the department and made their way back to the rental. “I knew this was a bad idea from the beginning. Contacting Miami has only screwed this up. Chances are Miami’s plainclothes guys have been spotted by him and now he won’t come within a mile of that address.”

  “Here’s the bit I don’t get. If this Darryl guy was running with the Outlaws and he had the address of Bo. Surely the Outlaws have already checked that address?”

  “That was the reason I was griping about coming all the way here. I think it’s a wild goose chase. Chances of him being in Miami are slim to none. These bikers don’t play around. We are talking about an excessive amount of money that he owes them. Let’s say he has a hundred clients and each of them need a loan for ten grand. That’s a whole lot of money to be on the hook for.”

  “Yes and no,” Hanson said. “It’s obviously a means of laundering drug money by running through a legit company. Rapid Loans earns back the money plus interest, which I might add is probably an excessive amount of interest — and both parties are happy. They get their cash back plus some extra on top.”

  Harvey chewed it over as they made their way through the endless bumper-to-bumper traffic and arrived at the address of one Bo Gonzales. They had the license plate number of the officers that were watching the place, and when they arrived Harvey approached them, sliding up the side of the vehicle and scaring the living daylights out of them by banging on the window.

  The window dropped.

  “Here to take over.”

  “From Carrabelle?”

  “That would be us. You seen anything?”

  “Not even a mailman,” the officer replied.

  They thanked them and watched them drive away before Hanson was about to park the SUV in the same spot.

  “Don’t park there,” Harvey said.

  “Why not?”

  “Hanson. Think. If Bo did kill our man, and he’s been keeping tabs on this place, he will be looking for anyone that is either a cop or biker. And if he already spotted Miami’s guys, it’s not going to help us parking in the same spot, now is it?”

  “You have a point. So where do you want to go?”

  “Well I’m not waiting here for him to show. We are going to visit his ex-wife. If anyone would know where he is, she would.” Harvey began tapping into the GPS the address he’d managed to get from Axl who had Nick Hammond’s notebook. “It’s not far from here. Hang a left down here and it will guide you the rest of the way.”

  “Yes sir,” Hanson said in a sarcastic manner.

  Ms. Wendy Gonzales lived in a luxury condo that overlooked South Beach. After having taken her husband for every penny he had and destroying his livelihood, she hadn’t wasted any time in setting herself up in a crib with the best view in Florida, and one that had high-end security. After spending close to twenty minutes trying to find a parking spot, and another twenty hiking through the sweltering heat, they made it to her forty-five-story condo. The place must have just been built as there wasn’t a speck of dust in it, and the floors, doors, and front desk were gleaming. It even had that new smell in the air.

  “Can I help you?” a front desk clerk asked.

  “We’re here to see a Ms. Gonzales.”

  “Is she expecting you?”

  “Yes, I was speaking with her by phone. The name is Harvey Baker. We’re from the police department.” He pulled out his badge.

  He hadn’t called her but he thought if he said that Wendy might assume she’d spoken with him and let him up. It was an old trick that worked in the past. People were curious by nature and he used it to his advantage.

  The front desk clerk turned and placed a phone call. A couple of seconds later he motioned with his head towards the elevator. “She’s on floor forty-one. Number 122.”

  Harvey thanked him and headed over to the elevators. There was a cleaner dusting the gold buttons. Hanson made a comment that once the cleaner was done she could do his apartment in Carrabelle if she wanted. He offered to pay her $20. The woman rolled her eyes and walked away as they stepped into the lift.

  When they arrived outside her apartment the door was already open.

  “Come in, gentlemen,” a female voice said from inside. The inside of the condo was amazing. It was a three-bedroom residence with a den, floor-to-ceiling windows, sliding glass doors in the main living area, a private terrace with a glassed-in balcony and marble counters. No expense had been spared. They were greeted by a good-looking woman in her late thirties. She had long dark hair that flowed down her back and was so smooth and straight it almost looked fake. She was wearing a yoga outfit and was in the middle of doing downward dog. Her rear end was facing them as they spotted her. Hanson nudged Harvey in the ribs as they both took in the sight of her shapely butt.

  “Ms. Gonzales.”

  “Ugh. I’m divorced from that pig. It’s now
Wendy Owen. Please call me Wendy.”

  “Wendy. We were hoping you might be able to shed some light on where your ex-husband is.”

  She straightened up breathing heavily and walked over to a table to scoop up a bottle of water. “Why, what’s he done now?”

  “It’s not exactly what he’s done as it is what he might have done.”

  “Which is?”

  “Nick Hammond is dead, Wendy,” Harvey said.

  She stopped drinking and looked down at the floor shaking her head.

  “Are you okay?” Hanson asked stepping forward to brace her.

  “Yeah, I just need a second.” Hanson guided her to a seat and the color in her face came back. “Nick was real good to me. Had it not been for him I would have still been with that man and penniless. What happened?”

  “As far as we know right now he was forced off the road, and had a heart attack. We are still waiting to hear back from the medical examiner. In fact they probably have the results by now.”

  “He got to him, didn’t he?

  Harvey frowned. “He?”

  Chapter 12

  It seemed that Wendy knew more about Keith than what had been revealed to the police. “The guy was a lunatic, showing up at our business at all hours wanting more money.”

  “More money? But I thought he had problems paying back his loans.”

  “Keith? No. He paid on time like clockwork. There wasn’t one payment he missed. Problem wasn’t with what he owed, it was with me. He wanted to take me out. I wouldn’t let him. It was just creepy. I told Bo but he wouldn’t do anything about it because,” she made quote signs with her fingers, “he is a client and a good one.” She shook her head and took another sip of her drink. “Bo just thought I was seeking attention or interrupting his meetings with important new clients. Well we all know who those new clients were. He was cheating on me. Anyway, Keith showed up here one night all drunk and Bo wasn’t around. He tried forcing himself on me and I had to get physical.”

  “Physical?”

  “I slapped him and kneed him in the privates. Then, I went and got the .45 from the back office and told him if he ever came around again I would kill him.”