Reel Sharpe

by Jenna Baker

In Los Angeles, the demand for Mexican fast food far surpassed the demand for American food. There was just something about warm weather and Spanish-tiled roofs that made you crave a taco. Plus with over fifty percent of the population Hispanic and a reputation for some of the best avocados it was easy to see why everyone in LA was all about Mexican.

  Walking into Baja Taco, I couldn’t help but get an instant craving for some chips and guacamole. I glanced over at Foxy and could tell that he was having the very same thoughts.

  We were there to verify an alibi, but Manny had a different objective. He breezed past me and walked up to one of the female cashiers.

  “Hola chica, que pasa?” Manny said.

  I couldn’t tell if he knew her or if he was just flirting, but the two of them chatted in Spanish for a while. I figured this was as good a time as any to get a location release and asked Manny to have the girl give it to her manager.

  Two minutes later, an extremely tall Hispanic man with a beer belly stepped out of the back room. The cashier was still flirting with Manny and pointed over to the detectives and me when her manager looked at her.

  The manager lumbered over to us, breathing heavily. His eyes traveled across each of us before finally settling on Foxy, a man of similar girth. “You wanna make a commercial or something?”

  “No, pal, we’re not making a commercial. We’re shooting a TV show and we need you to sign a release that we can shoot here,” Foxy said.

  “What show?” the manager asked. Manny stepped away from the cashier and walked over to the manager. They had an exchange in Spanish that started off heated with raised voices and hand gestures, but by the end they were smiling and the manager was signing.

  Manny walked over to me carrying the release.

  “What was that about?” I asked pointing to the manager.

  “We are passionate people,” Manny explained.

  I took the release and put it in my purse. Foxy opened up the line of questioning while Mac and Manny powered on their equipment and started rolling.

  “Do you have an employee named Justin Jaeger?” Foxy asked.

  “Yes.” The manager nodded.

  “Was he working here on Tuesday night?” Foxy asked.

  The manager thought for a while. “Tuesday? Yeah, he was working the window. Is he in trouble?”

  “No, of course not. Can you tell me what time he was here until?” Foxy asked.

  “Shift’s from six to two a.m. Jaeger likes it because he surfs at dawn then sleeps during the day.”

  “Do you know if he drove his car to work that day?”

  “I guess he did, I don’t know,” the manager said.

  “How long is his dinner break?” Foxy asked.

  “Thirty minutes,” the manager said. “I can check the time stamp to see when he took his break.”

  “That would be great,” Foxy said.

  Reid was frowning. This wasn’t going well. A few minutes later, the manager confirmed that Jaeger took his break from ten to ten thirty.

  The cops had estimated the time of death to be between six thirty and seven o’clock based on the time frame the neighbor referenced. If Jaeger was at work the whole time, there was no way he could have committed the crime.

  Reid questioned another employee at Baja Taco, who also confirmed that Jaeger had worked on Tuesday night. He was not able to confirm that he took his car to work, however. It seemed like a long shot that someone stole Jaeger’s car, ran down Chaser and then returned it untouched, but crazier things could happen.

  The manager gave us a large bag of tortilla chips and we helped ourselves to the fresh salsa on the salsa bar. The cops went for the spiciest blend while I went for the pico de gallo.

  We all gathered around a high-boy table and munched. I pushed the bag of chips over to Mac but he waved them away.

  “You’re not hungry?” I asked.

  “We just had lunch. Plus I don’t like to pollute my body with saturated fats. But you guys enjoy,” Mac said.

  Foxy raised an eyebrow. “Are you a fruit?”

  “No, I just care about physical fitness and eating right. I could give you some tips if you wanted.”

  “Tip this,” Foxy said, shoving some more chips into his mouth.

  “That was a bust,” I announced.

  “Thanks, Captain Obvious,” Reid said to me.

  We all sat in silence, crunching our chips and thinking about what to do next.