Gotcha Detective Agency Mystery Box Set

by Jamie Lee Scott

  There were two uniformed cops at the front desk, and another in the lobby. The room smelled of sweat, mud, and dirty diapers. The wooden benches that lined the wall were filled with Hispanic women and their crying children. I swear if I understood Spanish, they were saying, “Why is daddy in jail?”

  I didn’t think this was where inmates were held. I was pretty sure they transported them to the county jail on Natividad Road. I didn’t understand why these people were here, and I didn’t want to. I just wanted to be let through the magic door to where it was quiet except for the normal sounds of everyday office work.

  The officer in the lobby saw me and nodded his head toward the door. I smiled and pretended I knew what I was doing. I flashed my pass and walked past the front desk like I belonged there. In a way I did belong since I was invited by Nick.

  Just inside the door to the right was the homicide division. I walked down the gray hallway and let myself inside the homicide unit.

  A woman, roughly the size of an Amazon, sat at the first desk inside the door. She looked up at me with no expression, then looked back to the paperwork on her desk. I had been dismissed as unimportant.

  “Hey, you don’t look so bad.” Natalie stood up from her desk behind the opened door.

  “Thanks?” I wasn’t sure how to take the comment.

  She came toward me. “Nick told me what happened last night.”

  “Oh.” I blushed. I was truly embarrassed that I’d not better protected myself.

  “Come on.” Natalie swung the sweater she had in her hand over her shoulders and shoved her arms in the sleeves. “Nick is already in the interview room. He has Henry cooling in one while he interviews Eugene in the other.”

  She waltzed past me and out the door, just expecting I’d follow. She was right. I didn’t know where the interview rooms were located, so I was at her mercy. I followed obediently.

  “So you think your attack had something to do with the Bailey case?” Natalie spoke over her shoulder.

  “I think so, but in my line of business I piss off a lot of people when they get caught cheating. It doesn’t matter if they are cheating a spouse, the government, or their employer, they get pissed when they get caught.”

  “So they know you snitched them out?”

  I didn’t like the way she put it, but the tone of her voice wasn’t malicious. Besides, being a snitch is a good job, if you can get it. “Sometimes they find my business card and want revenge. But I’ve never been attacked physically before.”

  “Even if it was about the Bailey case, it doesn’t make sense that they’d come after you. I mean, Charles has all of the computer information, we have all of the evidence, why go after you?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  She stopped at a door painted a slightly darker shade of grey than the walls. “Okay, we’ll go in here and listen in. It’s not completely soundproof, so we need to keep our voices down, and preferably, we don’t speak at all.”

  She opened the door to a room no bigger than a small closet. The floor, walls and ceiling were covered in navy carpeting. The wall directly opposite the door had an array of electronic equipment, and to the right of that was a flat-screen television. There was no two-way mirror to watch through. Natalie picked up a thin, black remote control and the television came to life.

  Nick was speaking as we tuned in. “Look Eugene, if you’re innocent, you don’t need a lawyer.”

  Natalie whispered, “Looks like we’re too late. He’s lawyering up.”

  “But he wasn’t arrested, was he?”

  “No, but he’s obviously got something to hide. I wonder if Henry will do the same.”

  Nick stood. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” He walked out of the interview room.

  Within seconds, the door to our little spy closet opened. “You made it. How much did you hear?”

  “I just got here. I only heard him ask for a lawyer.”

  “Well, you can listen in when I talk to Henry. But I tell you, I’m beginning to think they have this all worked out. You’ll see what I mean.” He closed the door.

  I felt like I should turn around and face the other direction to see Henry’s interview, but Natalie just hit a button and we were watching Henry as he guzzled a swig of bottled water. Sweat glistened on his forehead. He wiped it with the back of his forearm. He jumped and spilled his water when Nick opened the door.

  He was wiping water from the front of his shirt when Nick said, “Hey Henry, sorry to keep you waiting. We don’t need to interview you anymore.”

  “What?” Henry shook visibly.

  “We got what we need. We’ll be booking Eugene in a few minutes.”

  Henry forgot all about the water on the front of his shirt, jumping from the chair. “Booking him for what?”

  “What do you think? We didn’t exactly bring you in here on drug charges.” Nick spat out the words as if he was disgusted with Henry.

  “That’s not possible. Eugene wouldn’t hurt anyone, much less kill them.”

  “Who said he killed anyone?”

  “That’s why we are here, isn’t it? This is about Esme Bailey’s murder. But I’m telling you, Eugene didn’t do it.”

  “What makes you so sure?” Nick’s slight smile was eerie.

  “He was with me. We were at the restaurant until the bar closed.” Henry stood, raising his voice.

  “Sit down.” Nick snapped.

  Henry didn’t sit. “This is crazy. I’m Eugene’s alibi. We sat at the bar after dinner and had a few glasses of wine. When I got home, I grabbed another glass of wine from the bottle on the counter and headed to my bedroom to do some reading. I never saw Esme after dinner, and Eugene didn’t come to the house. Eugene would never come to the house.”

  “You don’t really know that, do you? You were out cold when Ms. Capurro found you in the bedroom. And my officers said you were unresponsive. Why kill Esme? Was she blackmailing you?”

  “Are you kidding me? Blackmailing me with what?” Henry shouted at Nick.

  Very slowly, Nick said, “For your relationship with Eugene.”

  Henry went red, then gray. He flopped down in the chair. “How do you know about that?”

  Nick walked over and sat down in the chair across from Henry. “We saw you.”

  In almost a whisper, Henry said, “Where?”

  “We were at the Camarilla game on Friday night. After the game we saw the two of you get into the Volvo.” Nick had quieted too.

  “That’s not possible.”

  “Maybe you should go somewhere more private in the future. Oh, wait, there won’t be a future. Eugene is going to prison. Well, guess there’ll be a future for him, but not with you.”

  “You’re an asshole.” Henry slumped. “But here’s the thing, Esme wasn’t blackmailing me.”

  “Really?” Nick sounded skeptical. He leaned forward. “So she just makes a ton of money working for your wife? That’s how she affords the designer clothes and the fine furniture in her apartment?”

  Henry leaned in close to Nick and spat, “She worked her ass off for my wife, and she was well compensated. The furniture was given to her when Lauren decided to redecorate the house last year. What Esme didn’t want, Lauren gave to the Salvation Army. She could have asked for more money, and Lauren would gladly have given it to her.”

  “So why would Eugene want her dead?”

  Henry slammed his fists on the table. “That’s just it, he wouldn’t want her dead. Lauren already knows about Eugene and me. We just haven’t decided how we are going to handle things. I’m her financial manager as well as her husband.”

  Nick raised his brows. He put his hands on the table and pushed himself up from the chair. “I’ll be right back.”

  It was a matter of seconds before the door to our room opened. To me Nick said, “Can I see you out in the hallway?”

  I got up from the table thinking, “Somehow this is going to come back on me.” I followed Nick into the hallway.
/>   Before he could start yelling at me, I asked the first question. “Did Eugene really confess?”

  “Hell no, I didn’t get a damn thing from him. I’d barely been in the room with him a minute when he lawyered up. I told Henry he did just to get a reaction. Eugene really has no alibi, and I’m stumped. I need to see their legs, but I can’t just ask without cause.”

  “So why did you call me out here?” Why not just talk in the room with Natalie?

  “How much do you know about Henry and Lauren?”

  “It’s not like Lauren and I were buddies. Looking back, I’ve never seen them even touch each other, much less show affection. It seemed more like a business relationship.”

  Nick groaned. “I’m going to turn them loose. I don’t even know where to go from here. Damn.”

  “Detective Christianson?” The officer from the front desk walked up behind Nick.

  Frustrated, he snapped, “What?”

  “Excuse me, sir, there’s a woman here that says she’s from MallMart, and she has a tape for you?”

  Nick’s attitude changed in a millisecond. “Escort her back, please.”

  “I hope her tapes have something on them. Are you going to release Henry and Eugene now?” I hoped and prayed the tapes would give us some proof that one of the two men was guilty. I was sure Eugene was the bad guy, and Henry was covering.

  Janine Lambert was sitting in a chair outside Nick’s office.

  “Detective Christianson. I got here as soon as I could. I just got the tape this morning. I’ve narrowed down the timeline.”

  “Ms. Lambert, thanks for being so prompt.” Nick put his hand on her shoulder and led her into the room I’d just left. “Please have a seat.”

  Janine sat in the chair next to Natalie. She reached into her bag and pulled out a disc. Natalie took it from her and put it in the DVD player. I stood behind Janine’s chair, with Nick next to me.

  Nick said, “Ms. Lambert, this is Detective Natalie Simon.”

  Natalie shook her hand, then picked up the remote. She pressed play, and we all sat in silence as the player booted up.

  Janine Lambert shivered in front of me. She turned to Natalie and said, “Forward it about six minutes. That will put you at a few minutes before the activation time. We know which register it was because the clerk has to sign off on the activation. I’ve weeded out all of the other discs, and this one has the register we need to see.”

  Natalie pressed fast-forward, and we waited. I held my breath, and my heart rate soared. This may be the person who also tried to kill me.

  When Natalie hit play again, you could have heard a badge drop on the carpet. We stared at the screen. Within seconds we had our first solid proof. I couldn’t believe what I saw. The sound was bad, and the tape was grainy.

  Nick grabbed me by the arm. “Let’s go. Natalie, please book this into evidence, and make sure Ms. Lambert gets back to her car safely.”

  I followed behind Nick at a trot. As we passed through the patrol room, Nick said, “I need a patch through to the Santa Cruz Police Department.”

  26

  Nick slammed open the back door of the patrol room, and we were in the police parking lot. He jogged to his car, opened the passenger door, then jogged around to his side. I hopped in quickly, knowing if I was still standing next to the car when he got in, he’d leave me behind. I couldn’t believe he was letting me come along.

  I could still see the video of Susan wearing a hoodie, like the Unabomber, at the Mallmart checkout counter. It kept rerunning in my head like a nightmare.

  No sooner had he started the car, then dispatch came across the radio. “I have Santa Cruz PD for you.”

  Nick pressed the button on the microphone. “This is Detective Nick Christianson. I need police at 2309 Beach Street, apartment B.”

  “Copy.” The Santa Cruz Police Department dispatcher didn’t even hesitate. “I have two patrol cars on the way.”

  Nick pressed the button again. “No lights or sirens. We need to go in quietly. Just see if the occupant is home.”

  “We need a description of the suspect.”

  “Blond hair, blue eyes, skinny, with a dark tan. She probably won’t answer the door. Don’t leave the premises until we know she’s not there.”

  “Copy that. What’s your ETA?”

  “We’re rolling. Approximately 20 to 25 minutes.” Nick hooked the radio mike back in its cradle.

  I sat quietly, hoping Nick wouldn’t change his mind and drop me off before heading to Santa Cruz. Tires squealed, and we laid rubber as he drove out of the lot. He reached out and put his light on the roof of the car and we flew.

  I don’t think I’ve ever driven faster than maybe 80 miles per hour, but Nick handled the car with ease at 110. It was pretty cool to see the traffic part like the Red Sea for Moses. That was until we got to Santa Cruz.

  Our progress slowed down considerably once we exited Highway 1. But Nick didn’t seem agitated, he was pumped. Lights and siren off, we cruised along Beach Street and up to the patrol cars in the gravel parking lot.

  “Stay in the car for now.” Nick rolled my window down, then got out to greet the officers.

  After the initial greetings and handshaking, they got right to business.

  There were two patrol cars and three cops. The oldest looked to be about 50, with military short platinum hair, broad shoulders and a flat belly. He probably looked heftier than he was because of the Kevlar vest. He stood half a foot taller than the other two cops who looked to be in their 30s.

  The younger cops had their chests all puffed out and bellies sucked in. One had a shaved bald head, and the other thick black curls. They may as well have whipped out their nightsticks and marked their territory.

  Nick started by asking, “Have you knocked on the door?”

  The older cop answered, “We knocked, but no answer. One of the neighbors said he thought she’d left about an hour ago.”

  The bald cop said, “She’s a waitress at Pebble Bay.”

  Nick was already getting in the car. “Can you guys stick around for about 20 more minutes? Just in case we miss her?”

  Baldy and Blackie looked ready to say no when Father Cop stepped up and said, “We’ll stay here as long as you need us. Just radio in when you have your suspect in custody.”

  Baldy and Blackie glared at Father Cop. What else did they have to do on a Monday afternoon?

  Nick put the Crown Vic back on Highway 1, and we headed toward Seventeen Mile Drive. At the guard shack to the entrance of the Pebble Bay property, Nick slowed, rolled down his window and flashed his badge.

  “What is your purpose?” the guard asked.

  “I’d like to have your security people meet me at the entrance to Pebble Bay.” Nick was polite, but not friendly.

  “The purpose of your visit?” the guard asked again, not so politely.

  “I’m here to question a suspect in a homicide investigation.” Point blank, there it was.

  The guard went back into the shack and got on the radio. He was gone for about two minutes before he returned.

  “There’ll be a security guard at the valet parking for Pebble Bay.” The khaki clad security guard waved us past.

  Driving through the shaded road to the hotel, we had to slow three times for deer. Apparently deer have the right-of-way on Seventeen Mile Drive. The road was curvy, but not enough to make me car sick, and I was glad to see the long driveway entrance to Pebble Bay.

  When we arrived at valet parking outside the sand colored hotel, there was a welcoming party ready to greet us.

  A handsome, twenty-something valet tried to open my door, but Nick had to open it. When I stepped out, we were immediately greeted by a forty-something fop in a tidy black suit.

  “I’m Fred Saway, General Manager. How can I be of service?” He bowed slightly as he shook my hand.

  I looked over my shoulder to Nick. Fred dropped my hand like I’d bit him and gave all of his attention to Nick.

>   Nick shoved his hand at Fred. “I’m Detective Nick Christianson with the Salinas Police Department. We’re looking for a suspect in a murder investigation. We were told she was at work today. She’s a banquet server here.”

  “Yes, yes, my security division informed me of the situation. You see, I’ve contacted the Monterey County Sheriff’s Department, and they’ve not been notified of this situation.”

  “Well, since we’re just here to talk to Ms. Olson, I didn’t see the need to bother local law enforcement. If the situation came to that, we’d have called ourselves.” Nick’s words were tight and crisp.

  “Now you won’t have to be bothered.” Mr. Saway looked over Nick’s shoulder as he spoke. “Deputy Gomez is just pulling up.”

  Great, this was turning out to be a regular law enforcement circus. But then, if Susan did kill Esme, it was best to play by the rules and let the sheriff’s deputy do his duty.

  With all of the sand, khaki, and tan colors, everything seemed to blur. The building blended with the surroundings, and those blended with the deputy’s uniform. Nick and I turned at the same time to see the tall, meaty man waving at Mr. Saway.

  “Nick?” the deputy said.

  “Joe?” Nick’s tension released with the one word.

  “How’s the SFPD man?”

  They did the shake, pull close, half-hug, and pat on the back thing that men do.

  “I’m in Salinas now. I needed a change of scenery.”

  “You should have called me. You’d love the Sheriff’s Department.” They were still in a gripping handshake.

  “Salinas is sort of home. I’m glad to be back there. It’s an adjustment though.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. So what’s going on?” Joe Gomez’s brows crawled together to form a single caterpillar over his eyes.

  “I have a murder suspect I’d like to speak with. She’s an employee in the banquet department here. I need to see her ASAP.” The men had taken a step back and were sizing each other up as they spoke.