Caliber Detective Agency Box Set 3

by Remington Kane

  Artie put the plan into effect two nights later, after returning to the office in a yellow company van with several other employees. He pretended to be waiting around for a ride home from a made-up friend, as his supervisor did the night’s paperwork.

  After saying he was going outside for a smoke, Artie crept over to his supervisor’s car while staying below the level of the storefront’s windows. Once he was on the driver’s side of the vehicle, he shoved one end of a rag into the gas tank of his supervisor’s car.

  The supervisor, a woman named Rosa, drove an old beat-up Buick to work, since she had to leave it on the streets overnight in a bad neighborhood.

  Someone had thrown a rock at the windshield and cracked it a few weeks earlier. It was that incident that caused Artie to consider using the car in his plan. After setting one end of the rag on fire, Artie slinked back the way he’d come and reentered the office.

  He’d seen a show on TV the other day where they debunked the myth that you could use a lit rag in a gas tank to cause a car to explode. On the show, the car they used only suffered damage to its paint job and the rag extinguished itself before reaching the gasoline.

  Still, the smoke should be enough to grab Rosa’s attention and get her out of the office for a few minutes. After returning inside, Artie headed into the bathroom, then sat on the closed lid of a commode and waited.

  When over a minute passed, Artie figured that Rosa had failed to notice anything. He stood up to go check when Rosa shrieked, “My car!”

  The bell over the door tinkled as Rosa went running outside, and Artie made his move. The keys and the codes were kept in a cabinet behind the desk which hung out of sight of the window. The metal cabinet was unlocked when the office was active, and the keys inside jingled loudly as Artie swung open the small gray door.

  He found the name CALIBER and took the keys off the hook. After removing the key marked Front Door from the metal ring, Artie hung the rest of the keys back on their hook. He did that so an obvious gap wouldn’t be left that someone might notice. This included the key that would open Gail Caliber’s office door. Artie then had trouble remembering the four-digit alarm code, 0-8-1-8.

  Fearing he would get the number wrong, Artie tore off the strip of labeling tape it had been printed on. If anyone saw it was missing they would just assume the glue gave way and that the small piece of tape had been swept up with the trash, as sometimes happened.

  He shoved the label with the alarm code into a side pocket with the key, then he rushed outside, as if he had just left the bathroom.

  Artie stopped in mid-stride when he saw the car. Rosa’s car was engulfed in flames.

  She was on the phone reporting the blaze as tears rolled down her cheeks. Artie felt bad. He hadn’t meant to destroy the car. Once again, bad luck was following him around.

  The blaze was placed under control by the fire department and classified an arson fire, while its cause was placed on, “Kids in the neighborhood.”

  Artie’s make-believe friend never showed of course, and he was given a ride home by Rosa, whose husband had come to the office to get her.

  As he walked up to his fourth-floor apartment, Artie was smiling. He had done it. He had been smart enough to pull off a caper like something you’d see in a spy movie.

  The next time he met with Ian and Robby they would give him thousands more to go along with the five bills he already had. Artie couldn’t wait.

  Chapter Thirty

  Hours after the car fire occurred at Sanchez Office Maintenance, a new client was entering the Pruitt/Carver Detective Agency.

  The receptionist escorted the woman into the main office where Rayne Carver and Trace Pruitt were seated behind a desk together.

  Before their client appeared, Pruitt was trying once more to get Rayne to go out on a date with him. He was unsuccessful. That had not been the case on the previous week when Rayne agreed to accompany him to a Broadway play.

  Despite having shared dinner and the theater, Rayne made it clear to Pruitt that it had not been a date. Pruitt didn’t care what she called it, he had finally gotten Rayne to spend time with him out of the office.

  The new client, Mrs. Alice Walker, was forty-four and the mother of one child, Jeffrey. Jeffrey’s recent activities were the reason Mrs. Walker had come to Pruitt/Carver.

  Alice Walker blushed as she shook the hand of the tall and handsome Pruitt. Although in her forties, Mrs. Walker maintained a trim figure and her youthful face was attractive. She was wearing a pantsuit that matched the color of her green eyes. After brushing a strand of blonde hair from in front of her face, she revealed why she had come for help.

  “Jeffrey had a bit of trouble years ago when he was sixteen. He was arrested for defacing a building with spray paint and the police found that he had marijuana in his pocket. It was a small amount for personal use, but the older boys he was with had been carrying around a large supply in their car. As it turned out, they were drug dealers.”

  “Did Jeffrey serve time?” Rayne asked.

  “No, thanks to a friend of my ex-husband who is an excellent lawyer, but I’m afraid that Jeffery might be running with that drug crowd again.”

  “What makes you think that?” Rayne asked.

  “Jeffrey has been going out lately in the afternoon but is evasive about where he’s been going. He doesn’t get back in until after midnight, and suddenly he has money of his own.”

  “A lot of money?” Pruitt asked. “And how old is Jeffrey?”

  “Jeffrey turned nineteen a few weeks ago, and no, I suppose it’s not a lot of money. I just wonder why he’s so secretive about it.”

  “What would you like us to do?” Rayne asked.

  Mrs. Walker leaned forward. “Could you follow him?”

  “We can do that,” Rayne said, “and we’ll find out what he’s been up to. However, if he is involved in criminal activity we might be obligated to inform the police.”

  “No, please, the whole reason I’ve come here is to avoid the police. Isn’t there some way to leave them out of it?”

  Rayne sent Mrs. Walker a comforting smile.

  “We’ll only bring the police into this if we see Jeffrey committing a violent act against someone. From what you’ve said he doesn’t sound like he’s dangerous.”

  Mrs. Walker grinned. “Jeffrey is a sweetheart. He just needs to steer clear of those druggie friends of his.”

  Rayne and Pruitt accepted the case, which they would begin the following day. After seeing Mrs. Walker out, they returned to the office.

  “Is Sammy still working on the Scott case,” Pruitt asked.

  “I forgot to tell you, he called and said he figured out who the thief was. The police arrested Mr. Scott’s butler.”

  Pruitt laughed. “Seriously? The butler did it?”

  “He did it several dozen times over the years. Sammy said the man was selling the goods on an online auction site.”

  “Sammy solves a lot of cases.”

  “Too bad he won’t be solving them for us anymore.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He gave me notice. He wants to go back to Las Vegas and revive his father’s agency.”

  “No shit?”

  “I think he’ll make a go of it.”

  Pruitt slid his chair closer to Rayne.

  “Where would you like to go tonight?”

  “Don’t you know how to take no for an answer?”

  “No.”

  Rayne smiled. “There is somewhere I’ve been meaning to go back to for a while now. It’s a pub on 27th Street. I know the woman that sings there.”

  “What time should I pick you up?”

  “If I agree, understand something, this is not a date.”

  “Whatever you say, Rayne.”

  “Pick me up at eight, and dress casual.”

  Pruitt smiled so wide that it caused Rayne to laugh.

  Velma Parker sat on a sofa in the office of psychologist Sylvia Monroe. Monroe was an
elegant black woman in her fifties who, unlike Artie Kelp, radiated intelligence, while her eyes spoke of compassion and understanding.

  Velma had sought Dr. Monroe’s help once before, when struggling with the decision of staying with her former husband. The doctor had helped her then. Velma was hopeful that she would be just as useful in aiding her to come to a decision concerning a new problem.

  “How long ago was this wedding?” Dr. Monroe asked.

  “About nine months ago.”

  “Was the resemblance startling?”

  “They’re half-brothers, but they could almost pass for twins.”

  “And until that time, you had never seen Sammy Sloan without facial hair?”

  “No, and he grew the beard back right away and let his hair grow long again. He had only shaved to make a point.”

  “His point being that Christopher was just a substitute for him?”

  “Yes.”

  “And is that true?”

  Velma looked out the window for a moment, but then answered.

  “I never thought of Chris as a substitute, at least not consciously.”

  “But you admit it is a possibility that his resemblance to Mr. Sloan is what attracted you to him?”

  “I guess it’s possible, and I can’t seem to get Sammy off my mind.”

  “Just as you at one time couldn’t keep Christopher out of your thoughts.”

  “Yes, but I never really forgot about Sammy even after I left Las Vegas behind.”

  “Do you love him?”

  “I think I do, but I still have feelings for Chris.”

  “Christopher’s affair altered your relationship, didn’t it?”

  “I don’t trust his love anymore, not after he slept with Rayne Carver. I also think he’s interested in someone else now.”

  “I see, so why do you stay in the relationship?”

  “I… don’t know.”

  “Having to work together must make things more difficult.”

  “Oh, Chris is no longer with the Caliber Detective Agency. He left months ago to join a law firm.”

  “That’s interesting, he’s limited his contact with you while Sammy Sloan moved across the country to get closer to you.”

  Velma stared at the doctor. “You sound like you’re on Sammy’s side.”

  “I simply state facts, and they’re facts you already know.”

  “We talk on the phone.”

  “You’re speaking of Mr. Sloan?”

  “Yes, it started after the wedding when I called him to ask what he thought he had proved by shaving his beard. Since then, we’ve talked once or twice a week.”

  “Just talk, or have you met up with him?”

  “It was only phone conversations, but I am meeting him for drinks Friday night.”

  “Tomorrow, and where will you be meeting him?”

  “Oh, it will be in public. I have no intention of sleeping with him… at least not now.”

  The doctor raised an eyebrow.

  “Those last four words tell me that you have already come to a decision about your relationship with Christopher.”

  “I have? That’s news to me.”

  “You stated that it was a possibility that you might become intimate with Sammy Sloan, does that mean you’ll be seeing him behind Christopher’s back?”

  “Never. I am not a cheater. It’s why I never slept with Sammy years ago when I was still married, despite my attraction to him.”

  Well then, Velma. If you won’t cheat, the only way to be with Sammy Sloan is to leave Christopher, yes?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Would you like my advice?”

  Velma smiled. “That’s why I’m here.”

  “Don’t be impulsive during your meeting with Mr. Sloan, and when it’s over, search your heart for what you’re really feeling. Once you do that honestly you’ll know what your next move should be.”

  “Why is it so hard to be honest with ourselves, Dr. Monroe?”

  “We all run from truth because we find its root to be unpleasant.”

  “All truth is unpleasant?”

  “There is one central truth in life, Velma, it is the fact that we will someday die.”

  “That is unpleasant.”

  “No one wants to face their own death.”

  “Or the death of a relationship,” Velma said, as she wiped away a tear.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Artie Kelp smiled as he saw Ian and Robby sitting in a booth inside a café on 9th Street. The brothers were drinking coffee and eating muffins. When they looked out the window and saw Artie approaching, Ian smiled.

  Artie wore his only suit, which was cheap-looking and bought at a charity shop for thirty bucks. Ian and Robby dressed in suits and he wanted to fit in. Ian and Robby’s suits weren’t cheap, they were tailored to fit them.

  After entering, Artie told the waitress that he would have a coffee too. She poured it for him at the counter and he carried it over to take a seat beside Robby.

  “Sorry I’m late, guys, but I missed my first bus.”

  “Do you have what we need?” Ian asked.

  Artie took a folded white envelope from his pocket and passed it across the table. After looking inside the envelope, Ian frowned.

  “Where are the other keys?”

  “You won’t need them. That’s the only key you’ll need. It’ll open the front door.”

  “What did the other keys open?”

  “A couple of the offices, but how hard could they be to get into?”

  Ian considered it and figured Artie was right. He sent his brother a nod.

  Robby removed his own envelope from an inside pocket and handed it to Artie.

  “That’s the rest of your money.”

  Artie giggled as he looked in the envelope and saw all the bills.

  “I’m rich.”

  “It’s all there, so there’s no need to count it out in public,” Ian told him.

  An idea entered Artie’s mind then in the form of a question.

  “Why do you want to break into the Caliber Building?”

  “Are you getting nosy, Artie?” Robby said.

  “I was just curious, but you’d better be careful, those Calibers are tough.”

  “We know what we’re doing, and it looks like fate is on our side.”

  “What’s that mean?” Artie said.

  ‘Here’s the thing,” Robby began, however, he stopped talking when Ian held up a hand.

  “He doesn’t need to know,” Ian said.

  “Yeah, but why not tell him?”

  “True,” Ian said, and Robby continued.

  “Here’s why we say fate is on our side. Old man Caliber is off in Texas visiting relatives, while the grandson has the next few days off. It’s the perfect time to go in there after they close for the day. There will only be women there.”

  “Aren’t there two grandsons?”

  “Yeah, but the younger one doesn’t work there anymore.”

  “Wow, how did you find all that out? Do you guys have a spy in the office?”

  Ian and Robby laughed, then Robby explained.

  “We both hooked-up with women who work there. They like to talk, and we let them.”

  Artie grinned.

  “I’ll bet you did more than talk to them.”

  “Of course,” Robby said. “They were both lookers.”

  Artie finished his coffee, then checked his watch.

  “There’s a bus coming in ten minutes. If I hurry, I’ll make it. Thanks again, guys, and good luck with ah… whatever you’re doing.”

  “Yeah,” Ian said. “See you around.”

  Artie left the coffee shop to rush toward the bus stop. As he strode along, he thought up ways to spend the money in the envelope. Predictably, a trip to a casino was at the top of the list.

  On 27th Street, Rayne Carver and Trace Pruitt were in a tavern named Vinnie’s Pub. They were there to see a young woman named Sheila Watkins sing. She
ila, whom Rayne had met while working her last case for Caliber, performed using the name Diamond X. The stage name was appropriate as Sheila had a diamond tattoo beside the Roman Numeral X on her neck. Her hair was also dyed blue.

  Rayne had visited the pub on an earlier occasion and had been surprised to discover that Sheila could sing well. When Pruitt asked her to go out to dinner, Rayne suggested they try Vinnie’s Pub.

  After being seated at a table near the stage, Rayne spoke to Pruitt.

  “Remember, this is not a date. We’re just sharing a meal together.”

  “Whatever you say, Rayne. I guess seeing that play on Broadway last week wasn’t a date either.”

  “Yes, that’s right. I just don’t like going out alone.”

  Pruitt smiled. “I’m glad I could be of assistance.”

  “Hi there,” said a friendly voice.

  When Rayne looked up from her menu, she saw a twenty-something blonde dressed in a short skirt and wearing a blouse that showed a lot of cleavage. If not for the order pad she carried and the nametag with CINDY written on it, Rayne might have thought she was a hooker. She also took note that the girl was gazing at Pruitt with eyes full of interest.

  Rayne cleared her throat as she closed her menu.

  “I’ll have the special.”

  The girl ignored her as she leaned over to point at something on Pruitt’s menu.

  “Have you ever tried our prime rib? It’s delicious,” the waitress said.

  Pruitt turned his head to look at Cindy the waitress and got an eyeful of her breasts.

  “Prime rib it is,” Pruitt said, while speaking to Cindy’s breasts.

  Cindy smiled at him as she straightened up.

  “And what will you have, ma’am?”

  “I’m not a ma’am, and I already told you that I’ll take the special.”

  Cindy wrote down their orders, sent Pruitt a sexy smile, and sashayed off toward the kitchen.

  “Tramp,” Rayne said.

  “I like her,” Pruitt said.

  “You would.”

  Cindy was extra attentive to Pruitt throughout the meal. He smiled back at her while engaging in conversation. After their dishes were cleared away and the stage lights came on, Rayne leaned over and whispered to Pruitt from an angry face.