“Okay.”
Omar closed Brad’s door, walked around and sat shotgun, closing his door.
Standing barefoot on the cold concrete garage floor, Jo looked up into Dzuy’s eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
Dzuy shrugged. “Remember standing outside your parents place saying our relationship had three options?”
Jo nodded.
“I’m not sure I anticipated this.”
Dzuy looked at the pained expression on Jo’s face. She said, “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, at least we can’t say it was boring, right?”
Jo hugged him. “Was?”
Dzuy gave half a shrug and half a nod. “If my kids were ever in this mess, I’d want them to call the ambulance right away. We did this wrong. I’m not sure I can-”
Jo pulled back and nodded at Dzuy. “You’re right. And that’s why I love you,” she said as she turned and jogged towards the elevator without giving Dzuy the chance to tell her it was over.
Dzuy got into the driver’s seat. “Where to?”
“Last USA exit.”
“Five South?” Dzuy asked.
“Yeah. And drive the speed limit. Complete stops. Driver’s Ed style.”
“Okay. We gotta go a few blocks north to go south, right?”
Omar nodded.
Dzuy maneuvered through the underground parking lot. The large garage door opened and he crept forward, flicking on the turn signal.
Omar looked at the garage door, then down to his cell phone. He dialed the person on his recent text exchange.
Dzuy focused on the road and as much of Omar’s conversation in Spanish as he could understand. Blah, gringo, blah, ayuda, blah, camera, blah, casa, blah dormir. He drove past the sushi restaurant where this nightmare started two hours ago, with the setting sun pestering him through his driver’s side window.
Dzuy moved the visor to block the sun as he pieced together, ‘white guy, help, camera, house, sleep’ from Omar’s conversation.
When Omar hung up, Dzuy asked, “What was that?”
“I got a guy. We’re all set.”
Dzuy signaled a right lane change. “What guy?”
Omar sighed. “I got a guy, he owns a shitty motel just north of the border. He’s going to turn off all the cameras now. He’s going to get us a room for Brad, with a trusted hooker. She’ll play with his pecker for a few hours and make sure he’s breathing. If he stops, she’ll call an ambulance.”
Dzuy relaxed his death grip on the steering wheel. “You’re a fucking genius.”
“Yeah.”
Dzuy checked traffic over his shoulder and saw Brad out of the corner of his eye. “Do you think he’ll remember anything?”
“He’ll probably remember having a few drinks with Jo, then have no idea what happened next.”
“That would be so freaky.”
“Yeah. I’ll bet he wakes up and thinks he tried to go to Mexico but didn’t have a passport, so he stopped at a bar and picked up a woman and got a hotel down here.”
Dzuy merged onto the highway. “I hope you’re right. Thank you.”
Omar looked out the window like he was thinking.
Dzuy stayed in the right lane as they passed the Coronado Bridge. “I know Jo doesn’t have much money right now. If she owes you for today, let me know how much and I’ll cover her.”
“No money for the help today. Right now, I’m a middle-size fish in a middle-size pond. I need Jo’s help so I can take a step back from day-to-day shit like this and become a big fish, in the ocean.”
Dzuy felt a lump in his throat. He quietly cleared it and softly asked, “What if she wants to switch jobs. Can we repay you somehow so that everything is even?”
Dzuy snapped his head back towards the road when he felt Omar look towards him. “I’m sure she’ll find a way to make us square someday.”
Dzuy read a street sign, LAST USA EXIT 2 MILES.
Chapter 27
Jo paced around the kitchen island, anxiously hoping Aaron Baker would answer the call.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Aaron. Sorry to bother you, but please delay the Cassie Young settlement.”
“What? Are you okay?”
“I’m okay. Things are a bit hectic here.” Jo continued pacing. “I’m just going to come out and say it. Brad and Cassie faked the rape. They set the whole thing up so they could sue the City and split the settlement.”
“How do you know this?”
“Off the record? Between us only?” Jo asked as she stopped to sit at a kitchen island chair.
“Okay.”
“He showed a client of mine a tape before everything happened. I met with Brad, made it seem like I wanted a piece of the money. I know he was in on it with Cassie.”
“Did you drug him?” Aaron accused her. “Is that why you talked to Tina?”
“You’ve got an active imagination.” Jo didn’t want to stay on the line too long. Aaron was her intellectual equal, with her mind loopy, she might give away too much information.
“Did you?”
“Come on, Aaron. You’ve known me since law school. I’m working with a Deputy DA down here who will be talking to Cassie about the crime first thing tomorrow morning. I just wanted to let you know and to ask, if you receive the settlement funds, you don’t disperse them to your client for a few days.”
“Oh, shit,” Aaron groaned.
“What?”
“If you’re right, there goes a two million dollar fee.”
“Sorry, Aaron.” Jo stood to get a bottle of water from the fridge.
“I appreciate the heads-up. I’ll talk with my client and figure things out before I even deposit the check to my trust account.”
“Thank you. I gotta make some more calls. Have a good night.”
Jo let Aaron say goodbye, then hung up. She twisted the cap off the water and gulped. She paused for a breath and gulped again. A few more gulps and the entire bottle was finished.
She massaged her forehead as she walked to the couch. Still standing, she called Matt Terry.
“Hey, Jo!” Matt exclaimed excitedly.
“You sound happy.” Jo plopped down on the couch.
“Couple days ago I got an anonymous package with some news clippings and pictures.”
“Uh huh.”
“I shared them with Detective Larson. He went to the Salazar office just to look around and to have a friendly chat. When he walked up, something bothered him. He went back to his car, pulled out the pictures and brought them up to just outside the office.”
“Okay.” Jo laid on the couch with her head on top of a throw pillow and tucked her cold feet under a second one.
“Larson looked at the picture more closely and he noticed there was a new plant. A God damn little succulent thing that was there in real life but not in the picture.”
“Okay,” Jo said, hearing the excitement build as Matt told the story.
“He stops right there and snaps a picture of it on his cell phone. He goes back to his squad car and finds the phone number for the property manager of the building, calls, and gets them on the phone.
“Uh huh,” Jo responded, trying to stifle a yawn.
“An hour later, the property manager confirms there was no recent planting and was about to get an email from the owner giving him permission, in writing, to search the plant. Know what he finds?”
“A gun,” Jo guessed lazily.
“A knife. A bloody knife. Not bloody like an English guy says ‘bloody hell.’ A perfect match for the Jimmy Salazar murder.”
“That’s awesome. I’m happy the tip panned out…” Jo trailed off.
“With the murder weapon buried there, we’ll get warrants to learn everything about these killers. That was an amazing tip that fell into my lap.”
“Hard to –” Jo almost said believe. It is hard to believe. She sat upright. This Marcos Omar was cool and steady as a granite slab, ready to dispose of Brad Gecina if he died. Marcos Omar killed, or
had killed, the marijuana store robber. That’s whose house I’m in. Jo felt a jolt of panic wash across her, realizing how deep in league she was with Omar.
“Hard to, what?”
“Hard to,” Jo stood up. “Hard to. Hard to remember that I had something important to talk to you about, too.”
“That’s right. About the meeting you wanted me to have with Cassie Young tomorrow. What’s that about?”
“Did you get it scheduled?” Jo asked, as she brushed at her clothes, trying to wipe away the connection to Omar.
“Yeah.”
“I think you might want to switch it up, have Detective Larson, or another really smart detective take the meeting.” Jo sat on the floor next to her shoes and started to put them on.
“You think we might prosecute her?”
“Off the record?”
“Okay.”
“Here’s the short of it. Cassie and Brad set the whole thing up. It was a fake rape. They pushed to get immunity so Brad could then leak evidence of his guilt and Cassie could sue him. The City would have to pick up the tab for defense and indemnity under the Labor Code and pay out millions to Cassie that she would split with Brad.”
“Holy fuck.”
Jo got her shoes on and stood up. “Absolutely. You can get them for fraud and conspiracy.”
“What kind of evidence is there?”
“There’s a video on Brad’s cell phone. On the video he and Cassie are talking about the plan before they do it. It’s filmed in Cassie’s bedroom.”
“Do you have it?”
“No. But if you have a good detective, you can bluff. Say Brad’s offering it in exchange for immunity. Before the detective reads Miranda to Cassie, have him bluff that everyone is going to abandon her. When she calls her lawyer, he’s going to say he can’t help her. Then he reads Miranda, she calls Aaron Baker, and I’ll bet you a million bucks he says don’t talk to anyone without a criminal lawyer, but he’s not a criminal lawyer so he can’t help.”
“She’ll feel abandoned and ready to cut a deal. She already knows how powerful immunity is. If she rolls on Brad, we’ll get him and save that huge payout. But I hate to let Cassie off that easy.”
“You got her on conspiracy, fraud, filing false charges, even a second fraud charge for her getting legal services from Aaron Baker under false pretenses.” Jo stood against a wall, wondering where she should sit or if she should just leave this apartment.
“That’s true. I think we’ll need prison time. Not just jail.”
“She’s a young, good-looking girl. If you sell her that she’ll be out in a year or two, she can move on with her life with a deal. But if she’s found guilty of everything, that will be fifteen years. She’ll be old, can’t restart her life so easily then.”
“That’s good.”
Jo wished she could restart her life. Go back to the prosecutor’s office and take these past two weeks back. She looked at Dzuy’s computer. “If I find anything else you can use before tomorrow, I’ll text you.”
“I gotta get Larson ready for tomorrow.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
“Bye,” Jo hung up and stared at her cell phone. She wished Dzuy was here to talk with. Jo already missed him and he only broke up with her a half hour ago.
After a moment of self pity she walked to Dzuy’s laptop with resolve. If she was going to lose Dzuy over this incident, she would make sure she did everything possible to make sure Brad and Cassie wouldn’t get away with it.
Chapter 28
“Wait here,” Omar commanded to Dzuy in the parking lot of a two-story, forty-unit, rundown, motel.
“Okay.”
Omar hopped out of the car and walked around to Brad’s door. He opened it and nudged Brad until he had access to the wallet in his back pocket.
With Brad’s wallet in hand, Omar casually walked to the motel registration office. Omar opened the glass door and his nose betrayed him. It never rained in San Diego, yet the office had a musty odor that came from water intrusion.
An elderly Hispanic woman was behind the counter of an otherwise-empty office.
Omar smiled. “Hola. Sergio, por favor.”
“No esta aqui. Senior Don?”
“No,” Omar smiled. Sergio never let him forget he shared a last name with the famous singer Don Omar. “Me nombre es Brad.” Omar opened Brad’s wallet and handed the woman his credit card.
Omar held up a finger. “Una habitación por favor. Y, si es posible, doscientes en la tarjeta.”
She nodded. “Veinte por dinero. Cincuenta por la habitación.”
“Bueno,” Omar said, as he handed over Brad’s credit card. He would be charged fifty for the room and a twenty dollar fee to get two hundred dollars in cash drawn against the card.
While the woman swiped the credit card in the old machine, Omar leaned forward and peeked at the computer monitor behind the desk, seeing eight dark boxes.
“No hay video?”
She shrugged. “No es peligroso.”
“Bueno,” Omar smiled.
The woman handed Brad’s credit card to Omar, along with a slip of paper to sign. Omar studied the back of Brad’s card for his signature, then did his best to scribble something that would look like a drunk person signing that name.
When he pushed the slip back to the woman, she counted out two hundred dollars in twenties and pushed it to Omar. He grabbed the two hundred, plus thirty dollars he saw inside Brad’s wallet, and jammed it in his front pocket.
With the cash safely out of sight, the woman then handed Omar a metal key. “Thirty-four,” she said in accented English.
“First floor?”
She shook her head.
“Es posible?”
She nodded, took the key back from Omar, and procured the old fashioned metal key to room three. “Tres.”
“Gracias.”
“Por nada.”
Omar took the key, with a befuddled look on his face. The way she said you’re welcome was as someone in South America would say it. She appeared to be Native American Mexican. Cuidado, Omar reminded himself that not everything might be as expected. Caution.
Omar surveyed his surroundings as he walked to the room. He unlocked and opened it, pleased to find a doorstop on the outside of the door. After propping the door open he didn’t note anything that gave him concern.
Briskly walking back to the car, he hopped in the passenger seat. “Can you back into the spot over there?” Omar pointed to the parking spot right in front of the open motel room door.
“Sure.” Dzuy put the little SUV in reverse and backed through the lot, ending in a skewed parking job. “Should I straighten it?”
“No. Let’s get him in and then you can take the car and get to Jo. You guys will want to go somewhere public and seem normal. Get a receipt. Maybe get tickets to a movie and pick up the stub for an earlier movie that people threw on the ground.”
Dzuy unbuckled his seatbelt. “Okay.”
Omar hopped out of the car and Dzuy followed suit. Two minutes later Brad Gecina was lying on the bed and Dzuy was giving him extra oxygen. Brad clumsily pawed at the oxygen tank.
“See, he’s fine,” Omar said as he looked up from his cell phone to watch Brad reacting.
Dzuy stepped away. “Looks that way.”
“Get going.”
“You sure? You don’t want me to wait for you?”
“Naw, I’m gonna walk across the border and spend the night in Rosarito.”
Dzuy looked at Omar with awe. “You brought your passport with you?”
Omar shook his head. “Passport card. Always keep it in my wallet. Just lock my keys inside the apartment and we’ll talk in a few days.”
Dzuy extended his hand. “Thank you, Omar.”
Omar shook it and nodded towards the SUV.
Once Dzuy was out of the motel room, Omar closed the door. Blocking the last of the sun’s light didn’t help the room feel any cleaner. The
carpet used to be a deep red with blue diamond patterns. Now it was a light fuzzy purple. Omar flipped the light switch, causing a five-foot-tall silver floor lamp in the corner to shine bright. The cheap light fixture above the bed didn’t turn on.
Omar walked past the bed and opened the door to the bathroom. He flipped on the fluorescent light bar above the sink mirror. He unwrapped the little circle soap bar and washed his hands, wiped them on a bath towel that smelled of bleach, then took a leak in the toilet.
Leaving the bathroom light on, Omar walked back to the living room and shut the main light off. Enough light spilled from the bathroom so everything was comfortably visible in the small motel room.
Omar plopped Brad’s wallet next to the picture-tube television on top of the chipped and stained brown dresser. He set all of Brad’s cash next to it, picking up the remote control.
Omar’s channel clicking was interrupted by a knock at the door. He left the television on Judge Judy and opened the door.
A pretty twenty-year-old wearing skin-tight jeans, a tight red tee shirt, and a small blue jean jacket that stopped providing coverage where her large breasts began, batted her eyes at Omar. “You’re a cutie.”
“Come in.” Omar tilted his head slightly to look at her eyes when she walked past him.
She stopped when she saw Brad on the bed. “It don’t matter how hot you is. It’s extra for two.”
After a quick shake of his head, Omar pointed at Brad. “Only him. Just a blowie, then stay with him ‘til he wakes up.”
She looked at her phone. “Four hundred ‘til ten. Thousand ‘til tomorrow morning.”
Omar pulled out two hundred from his wallet and put it on top of Brad’s wad of money. “Four hundred. Plus thirty to order a pizza for you two.”
She looked at the money on the counter and made a move for it.
“Hold on. We gotta be clear first.”
“Bout what?”
“Sit down,” Omar gestured to the bed near Brad’s feet because the small room had no chairs or anyplace else to sit.
She sat. “When you came to this room, it was only him. You never saw me.”
“K.”
Blanket Immunity Page 18
