by Paty Jager
Mathews pulled in behind him. They’d been to the State Police headquarters to see if Trask was back in Idaho and if they had learned anything from him. He was back, but sleeping off the effects of the D.T.s from not having had any alcohol for nearly 48 hours.
“How do you want to do this?” Mathews asked, when he caught up to Hawke.
“Observe the man, until it looks like he’s leaving. Then I want to introduce myself.” Hawke grinned. This could either go well and make the man do something stupid, or it could go bad and the man could try and discredit he and Mathews.
They walked up to the entrance of the building. People milled around. From the cameras, microphones, and notepads, it looked like mostly media was present, very few of the general public. Hawke remained toward the back of the group of people, but where he had a good line of sight to the front. He found Bayle by the photo that had been in the paper. The billionaire was talking to what looked to be the Chief of the Boise City Police and Childress.
“What’s he doing here?” Mathews asking, clearly meaning Childress.
“He is on several boards. I guess he’s here to promote the opening.” Hawke studied Mathews’ narrowing eyes and distasteful curl of his lips. The deputy had a hard time hiding his dislike for someone.
“We stay away from him. All we’re concentrating on right now is Bayle,” Hawke said, putting a hand on Mathews’ shoulder.
“Shouldn’t Childress be at the State Police being questioned?”
Hawke shrugged. If he had been questioned, he didn’t look the worse for it. “He probably clammed up and they had to let him go. Nothing to hold him on, until we get more proof.”
Just then two men strode across the area between the parked cars and the men gathered near the ribbon that was to be cut. They went straight to Bayle. As they talked, Childress became agitated. Bayle started scanning the crowd. His gaze locked onto Hawke.
“I think his flunkies just told him we’re here,” Hawke said, staring back at the billionaire with a blank expression.
He knew as they stood here irritating Bayle, Spruel was talking Captain Horton into finding a way to look into Bayle’s financial records. Specifically, for payments to Sheridan and whoever killed Sheridan.
The mayor stepped up to the microphone and announced how pleased he was to be a part of this event. He bragged about all the good things Bayle had done for the community and how this was one more of those magnanimous gestures.
Mathews coughed and one of the reporters near them looked over her shoulder.
“You don’t believe everything the mayor is saying about Mr. Bayle?” she asked, studying them both before facing them.
Mathews glanced at Hawke.
Knowing the deputy might say more than he should, Hawke said, “We’ve been discovering things about Bayle that make us a little leery of any philanthropic acts by him.”
The woman stepped closer. “Does this have anything to do with the fact Tonya Cox is missing and her last story in the paper had to do with Bayle owning the Boise City Police?”
Hawke exchanged a glance with Mathews. “What can you tell us about her accusations?”
The woman nodded to the Chief of Police and Childress shaking hands with Bayle. The billionaire had cut the ribbon and was getting ready to leave.
“Can you stick around? We’d like to visit with you.” Hawke tapped Mathews on the arm, and they headed straight for Bayle.
The two men, who’d warned their boss he and Mathews were here, stepped between them and the billionaire.
Hawke didn’t want to make a scene, but he wanted the man to know they weren’t giving up. “Tell your boss, we know everything he’s done from the reckless driving homicides to the contaminated water and the murders. And so do the Idaho State Police and the District Attorney.”
Pivoting to walk away from the two, he bumped into the reporter.
“Is that true? The district attorney has the goods on Bayle?” The woman’s eyes lit up like fireworks.
He hadn’t planned for anyone to hear that but the two flunkies. Hawke grasped the woman’s arm, leading her through the parked cars. Mathews was right behind them.
Hawke stopped in the middle of the parking lot where no one could hear what he had to say.
“If you report what I just said, Bayle will have you in court for slander so fast, you won’t know what day it is.” Hawke nodded toward Mathews. “We’re trying to gather the information for the D.A. to send out an arrest warrant. At the moment, all we have is intimidation.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “What you told those men wasn’t the truth?”
“Half of it was,” Mathews said.
She shifted her gaze to the deputy. “What half?” Her pen poised over her notepad.
Hawke studied the woman. “I take it you aren’t a fan of Bayle’s.”
“No. He stole my family’s farm and turned it into a subdivision.” The woman glared at Hawke as if he were the one to take the land.
“Where was this?” Hawke held his breath. If she were angry over the Sunset Rose Subdivision, they’d have another ally who could dig up dirt for them.
“Sunrise Court.” She spit the words out as if they tasted like the worst thing she’d ever eaten.
“Any connection to Sunrise Rose?”
She studied him. “Right next door. Tonya was digging up dirt on that subdivision.”
Hawke nodded. “Do you and Tonya work for the same paper?”
“Until she helped Felix White escape prison. The owner of the paper canned her.” She shook her head. “I didn’t think Tonya would go that far to get a story.”
“Why do you say that?” It was the words Tonya had said at first for why she’d helped get White out of jail.
“She seemed driven to right injustice. It seemed odd for her to do something illegal.”
Hawke noticed the two men who worked for Bayle watching them. “I’ve got a lot to tell you, but not here. Can we meet this evening?” He glanced around. “Seven-thirty at that theater? Back row, far right corner.”
She flicked her gaze from Hawke to Mathews and back to Hawke. “Anything you need me to look up between now and then?”
“We need to find a way to get Bayle’s private financial records.”
The woman smiled. “I’ll have them for you tonight.” She started to walk away and swung around. “Which movie?”
Hawke looked at the billboard. “Whatever’s playing in number two.” Both films were nothing he’d ever pay money to watch.
Mathews watched the woman walk away. “You should have told her two men have been killed and Tonya is in hiding. She may not have offered to help.”
Slapping Mathews on the back, Hawke said, “She still would have helped. She is a reporter.”
The woman, whose name he didn’t know, had shown she cared for a good story and wanted to pull off one that would rock the city on its heels. She also seemed to have some kind of clout to be ballsy enough to say she’d have Bayle’s financial records tonight.
«»«»«»
The rest of the day, Hawke and Mathews chased information. They learned where Bayle spent most of his time, who he hung out with, and what his schedule was for the rest of the week. With all this information, they planned to split up. Hawke would go by the City Police Department and start digging through Officer Trasks old files and see if he could find anything to connect Bayle, and Mathews would just hang out everywhere Bayle showed up.
After a quick dinner at a burger joint, they walked up to the theater at 7:15 and bought tickets for the movie playing in number two.
Mathews walked over to the concession stand.
Hawke wandered into the theater. The movie was already playing. He scanned the upper right side and noted one person sitting in that area. As he climbed the slanted aisle, he figured out it was the reporter. She was early.
He took a seat next to her and reached into her box of popcorn, filling his hand. “You never did tell me your name.”
“Hawke.”
She shifted, peering at him in the dark. “Just Hawke?”
“Just Hawke.”
Mathews plopped down next to him. “Here or the other side?”
“The other side.” Hawke replied. “And this is Mathews.”
“And you both work for...?”
“Law enforcement,” Hawke said before the deputy gave too much away.
“I see. You aren’t vigilantes, are you?” She righted her popcorn container.
“No. We have badges. We just don’t want you to go sniffing around.” Hawke was tired of the chitchat. “Did you get the financial records?”
She nodded. “My sister works in the office for Bayle’s accountant. But you don’t know where these came from.” She slipped a regular-sized envelope out of her purse. Hawke took the envelope and slipped it inside his shirt, tucking it into his holster.
“Are you going to give me anything?” she asked.
“You’ll have to quote anonymous sources,” Hawke said, reaching across her to grab another handful of popcorn, this time out of Mathews’ gallon-sized container.
“As long as they can’t get me in trouble, I can do that.” She placed the popcorn in the slot for a cold drink and pulled out her pad and pen.
“Bayle and the other members of the corporation that built the Sunrise Rose Subdivision piped contaminated water to the people who bought there. The corporation saved money by not building a proper purification station and instead piped water straight from the Boise River into the homes. Many children in the subdivision became sick.” Hawke stopped there. That was enough for the woman to start digging into. He didn’t want to get her messed up with the murders. “You can find the evidence by talking to Professor Stacy Clann at Boise State.”
“Hawke, Mathews, thank you for this. I hope what I gave you helps.” She pushed to stand.
Mathews put a hand on her shoulder, lowering her back into the chair. “One of the two men who saw us talking at the grand opening earlier is out in the lobby. He followed us in.”
“Then I suggest, we wait until the movie is over and then all three split up in the wave of people leaving.” Hawke leaned back and closed his eyes. He had no desire to watch the movie.
«»«»«»
They made it out of the movie theater all going their separate ways. Only Hawke, Dog, and Mathews went to the agreed upon motel, and Hawke pulled out the papers Evelyn had given him. He’d asked for personal records thinking the man wouldn’t want any transactions to hitmen to show up in his business records, but it would be easier to hide a payment here and there in the business records rather than the personal.
“Is Bayle married?” Mathews asked.
“I don’t know. Google and find out.” Hawke continued to slide his finger down the column of names of payouts.
“Yes, he is. And she’s a looker. Don’t understand why he’d be spending so much money at the Gentlemen’s Club.” Mathews turned his phone toward Hawke.
The photo of the woman standing next to Bayle looked hot enough to be one of the strippers at the club. “That is interesting.” He glanced at the clock. “Guess we could go check it out.”
Mathews whooped, then gathered himself together. “Have you been to this place?”
“Nope. You?”
“My cousin’s bachelor party. It’s classy with some really nice-looking women. Not like the one across town, that’s more like a bar with drunk women on stage.” Mathews picked up his car keys. “You driving or me?”
“We’ll take my vehicle. That way Dog can go and wait for us in the pickup instead of here.” He could leave Dog here to make sure no one got in to put a bug in the room, since Bayle’s men knew every where they went, but he’d rather know Dog was safe.
At the club, they paid to get in and found seats at the bar. You could learn more about a place by chatting up the bartender. And this one was not a problem to visit with. She was a busty, brunette with a wide smile, and big brown eyes.
Chapter Thirty-three
“What are you drinking tonight, boys?” the bartender asked in a soft voice.
“Two beers,” Hawke said.
When the woman placed the two glasses on the counter, Mathews twirled his finger. “I’m going to cruise.”
Hawke nodded and watched the bartender. She was efficient, talked with everyone at the bar and kept her eyes on the women serving drinks as well as the ones on stage dancing. He grinned. She would know everything that went on at this establishment.
She wandered back to his end of the bar. “What are you smiling at?” She wiped at the bar, but her gaze rose over his left shoulder as she watched something.
“I see you are a people watcher. It’s one of my favorite pastimes, too.” Hawke sipped his beer.
Her dark brown eyes landed on him. “What makes you say that?”
“Twila, I need refills,” a small strawberry blonde called from the middle of the bar.
“Hold that thought.” Twila hurried to the taps and filled four glasses with beer and made two mixed drinks that she placed on a new tray. She took the tray with the empty glasses and placed the glasses in a sink of soapy water, washed and rinsed the glasses, and put them in a rack to dry. Before returning to him, she refilled two drinks at the bar and took money from a man paying his bill.
She strolled back his way. “Where were we?”
“Discussing our mutual hobby of watching people.” He spun a bit to his right to see more of the dark interior of the establishment. A small, too pretty man was on the stage introducing the next dancer. Whoops and whistles rang out.
He caught the slightest narrowing of the bartender’s eyes before she said, “Don’t you want to watch Sugar dance?”
“Nope. I didn’t come here to watch the women dance.”
She stared at him. “You don’t give off any vibes you like your own kind.”
Hawke laughed. “No, I’m definitely a man who likes my bed partners with curves and all the other womanly attributes.”
Twila scanned the bar, then leaned closer. “Who are you here watching?”
“I was wondering why Buck Bayle spends a lot of time here?”
She straightened, walked down the bar, filling drinks, and setting up drinks on a tray for the red-headed waitress.
He sipped his drink, wondering if she’d figured out he was a cop and wouldn’t answer his questions. Establishments like this, even the clean ones, usually had something illegal or immoral happening somewhere on the premises, which made all the people who worked there leery of the law.
Twila returned, taking his half full glass and putting a full one in his hand. “Buck bought this place after he married Ginny. She was the main attraction until he set his eyes on her. He bought the place to make sure she didn’t work here anymore.”
“Why does he still drop by? To make sure things are being run correctly?” Hawke asked with as much restraint as he could. He wondered at a man purchasing the place a woman worked so he could marry her.
The bartender’s face grew dark, her mouth puckered in anger. “He comes by to get a lap dance from the flavor of the month. This month it happens to be Sugar.”
From the anger and venom in the words, Hawke couldn’t help by ask. “Were you the flavor of the month at one time?”
She pulled his beer away from him and raised her hand to call the bouncer. “No. I’m Ginny’s friend. He’s scum, and I tried to tell her that. But all she saw was his money.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean to demean you. I think we both have something in common.”
She shooed the bouncer away when he arrived. “Sorry. Miscommunication.” When the man left, she nodded to the waitress waiting for refills. “I’ll be back.”
Mathews arrived back at his side. “There are four rooms in the back. Three for lap dances and one that takes a code to get through. Four men have gone in and no one has come out.”
&n
bsp; “The bartender doesn’t like Bayle, who, by the way, owns this place. His wife worked here before he bought it.”
Mathews eyebrows rose. “I told you she was a looker.”
Twila returned. She refilled Mathews’ drink and he wandered off again.
“What’s your friend doing?” she asked.
“Trying to find a way to get into the backroom without a code.”
“That’s a high-stakes poker game. I’d love someone to catch him playing.” Twila wiped the counter.
“I’d like to catch him at something worse than gambling. Have you seen him in deep conversations with anyone here at the club? I mean other than the usual people?” Hawke picked up his beer and sipped.
“About three weeks ago he had his body guards block off one of the lap dance rooms while he had a conversation with an older man and a younger cocky guy. The older man left as soon as the meeting was over but the younger guy hung around.” She nodded to the men at the bar waving their empty cups.
Hawke wished he had a photo of Sheridan. He did an online search and there was a photo of him. It made sense the man who was full of himself would have a blog about tracking.
Twila returned. Hawke showed her the blog with Sheridan’s photo.
“Was that the man?”
“Yeah. That’s him. Not much of a tipper for all the puff he talked about himself.” She grabbed his half empty glass, dumped it out, and gave him a refill. “The way he talked, he’d been in here before. Kept asking me about a Tina. I told him as far as I knew there wasn’t a Tina dancing.”
He was glad he wasn’t drinking all these glasses of beer he’d be paying for. “Did he happen to mention why he was talking with Bayle?”
“Something about a killer getting justice and dollars for him.” She stopped, grabbed Hawke’s phone and opened the link back up. “This is the guy who was killed after the guy who escaped from prison.” She studied him. “Did Bayle have something to do with that?”
Hawke couldn’t say no, but he also couldn’t say yes. Not to someone unofficial. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”