“This isn’t going to go well for our agency when he finds out we’re investigating him,” I said, tapping my pen on the blotter on my desk.
“So you won’t take the case?” Skinner looked disappointed.
“I need to know what we’re investigating first.” I started to look through the papers.
“Bucky is Teflon. He writes bogus contracts, which I’ve been the victim of, but that’s another story, and plays at shady deals, but this is the worst.” He leaned forward and flipped the page for me.
The picture was of a beautiful, fully appointed livestock trailer. The other photos on the page showed luxury living quarters, and livestock stalls fit for royalty. I looked at the price at the bottom of the page and nearly choked. “Holy mother of…”
“Yes, ma’am, Bucky bought that with my credit. And because of that, I now have no credit.” He crossed his legs. “I’m in the livestock business. My livelihood depends on my good name and an excellent credit rating.”
I watched Skinner closely as he spoke. Somehow this story didn’t add up. “And just how did he do that?”
“It’s called fraud, Mimi. And that’s what I need help with. We’re ready to go into a civil trial with this, but I think it’s a criminal trial. I need to prove Bucky committed an egregious crime. He’s everyone’s best buddy, and no one wants to see him look bad with the election right around the corner. The police don’t seem to have time to investigate and prove the crime, so I need to prove it myself. Bucky should be in prison, not on the supervisors’ board.”
Jackie said, “You mean we have to prove the fraud for you.”
Skinner cocked his head and smiled his charming smile that I’m sure melted many a cowgirl’s hearts. “Well, yes.”
That smile, the slightly crooked teeth, the wrinkles around his eyes, the realness, was what sealed the deal. “Fine.” I told him our fees, and the upfront retainer.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll pay the retainer in cash. With this case, I’m afraid to even write a check at this point. My wife made me take everything out of all of our accounts, in case somehow Bucky was somehow able to access those, too.”
I didn’t see a ring on his finger. No tan line. Huh, he was married. Never would have guessed it. “She may be right. Maybe a very smart move, but only if you have a very safe place for your money.”
Skinner threw back his head and laughed. “Ma’am, my wife can shoot like a sniper, and I’d say our money couldn’t be safer if it was in Fort Knox.”
He pulled a package out of his worn leather briefcase and counted out the bills.
My curiosity got the better of me. “So what exactly did happen?”
Again, Skinner flipped a page for me. It was a letter from a local bank. I’d say which one, but that’s sort of privileged information.
“I had no idea what was going on until I got the congratulations letter from the bank.”
The letter congratulated him on his new purchase, his $200,000 purchase. “Yeah, congrats. Or not.”
“I contacted the finance manager for the Fitzduring Trailer Company, a Mister…”
I looked at the folder, “Mr. Josh Taylor.”
“Yes. He said he called the number on the credit application and asked for me. A man who identified himself as Skinner Mathis answered and verified all of the details needed to process the application.”
Jackie asked, “How would Bucky have this information?”
“Bucky and I traveled a lot of miles together. We had a lot of conversations. I don’t even begin to know the things I told that ass…excuse me, man over the years. I had no idea he’d be cataloging it to use later to commit fraud.” Skinner leaned back in his chair, defeated.
Jackie came around the desk, looking at me as she did. “Girl, you ever screw me like that, I won’t be looking for a P.I., I’ll be looking for my Glock.” She sat next to Skinner. “So what do you want us to do?”
“The trailer hasn’t been delivered. It was a custom made contract. The work was halted when I contacted the finance manager. But since it had been started, I’m liable for the contract. I’m not paying $200,000 for a contract I didn’t enter into.”
I looked through the file. I still didn’t get it. “How exactly was it that Bucky was going to have this trailer delivered? I mean, how was he going to get away with it?”
“Oh, you and I don’t have the devious mind he has. He’d have a scheme on the other end, and his precious wife would be in on it with him. They’re screwing a poor woman out of a nice barrel racing horse as we speak.”
“That doesn’t answer my question. How was he going to have the trailer delivered?”
“He wasn’t. He was supposed to pick it up.”
While Jackie sat across from me, I pulled up my handy-dandy P.I. software and ran a check on Skinner Mathis. Just how innocent was Skinner?
“In all the miles you and Bucky traveled together, he never brought you in on any of his scams?” Jackie sounded intrigued, but I knew she was baiting him.
“Funny thing, he didn’t seem like a scam artist at the time. He came across as a good guy. It wasn’t until I went into business with him that I realized he was cheating people, committing fraud, and outright stealing.”
“Mr. Mathis, you aren’t exactly a saint yourself. I see here you were arrested last month on theft charges. Learned a little something from Mr. Cox, did you? Or maybe not, since you got caught.”
Skinner jumped to his feet. “No! That’s just it. Bucky is the one who had me arrested. He claimed I stole his trophy saddle from when we team roped together. I swear to you that’s my saddle. It’s my saddle and now he has it. He was able to convince the police that it was his. He has his saddle, the header’s saddle. Mine was the heeler’s saddle, and that greedy bast...excuse me, that jerk, he wanted it all, he’s always wanted it all.”
Skinner deflated. I had no idea what the difference was between a header’s saddle and a heeler’s saddle, and I really didn’t care. But I guess if we were going to take on this man’s case, I was going to learn a lot of things about horses, trailers, rodeo, and whatnot that I didn’t think I’d ever know.
“So a header doesn’t need a heeler’s saddle?” The words sounded stupid just leaving my mouth.
“They are trophy saddles,” he said. “Like in bowling, when you win a trophy? In rodeo, they give buckles and saddles and such. There really isn’t a difference in the saddles, it’s just that in team roping, it’s a team and the header…”
Cortnie walked into the office, also clad from head to toe in black. Cortnie was my surveillance guru, and one of the best finds since opening my agency, well, other than Charles, of course. “That’s the guy who ropes the head of the steer, then dallies and turns him off, so the heeler can rope the heels, therefore, called the heeler.” She stepped forward and jabbed her hand toward Skinner’s belly. “Skinner Mathis, wow, nice to meet you. I’ve been a fan since I was a kid.”
Skinner beamed. “And you are?”
“Cortnie Criss. I work for Mimi Capurro and Charles Parks. Are you hiring the firm?”
Skinner nodded. “I hope so.”
Cortnie looked at me like a fan girl, eyes wide. I could tell by the eager “Can I sit in?” expression on her face, she wanted to stay.
“Have a seat,” I said. “Skinner was just telling us about how he’d like us to investigate his old team roping partner for fraud.”
“Not Bucky?” Cortnie sounded disappointed.
“Bucky,” I confirmed. “Can you be a part of this investigation and be impartial?”
Cortnie looked at the floor, then at me. Then she looked Skinner in the eye. “I’ll be honest, Mr. Mathis, I never did like Bucky. Sorry. Something has never sat right with me about him. And when he got into city politics, well that was the icing, wasn’t it? I just knew he was a snake.”
She was in. Whether she was telling the truth or not, I had no idea. I’d ask her when Skinner was gone, but I was pretty sure she had just p
ulled a line of bullshit out of a hat. She earned her place in this investigation. And right now, everyone needed something to keep their mind busy.
We had just finished a difficult case where one of our decoys had been killed while working on a prostitution sting for us, and the fallout still hurt. There had been some personal fallout recently, too, and the entire office was still in mourning. This case seemed like just the right thing to keep our minds moving forward.
“His wife is still running barrels, isn’t she?”
There was a twinkle in Skinner’s eye. Whoa. That was more than a twinkle. Then it was gone. “Yes. She nearly won the world championship two years ago. Looks like their daughter is fixin’ to win it this year, but they may be losing their good horse, so I’m not sure. Though his daughter still has her good horse.”
Cortnie looked distressed. “Losing a horse? Like putting it to sleep?”
“No, but it’s a long story. Another of Bucky’s business deals. Not my problem; I have enough problems without worrying about his. Though you may want to have a chat with Pamela Brown about that business deal she had going with good old Mr. Cox. Like I said, I have enough problems of my own.”
“Don’t we all?” Cortnie commiserated with Skinner.
“So you follow team roping?”
“Rodeo, actually. I have since I was a kid. Salinas is a big rodeo town, as you know. I got hooked at an early age. Junior rodeo, high school rodeo, scholarship at Cal Poly Pomona.”
Skinner’s brows raised, then lowered. “I’m a Cal Poly San Luis Obispo alum myself,” he looked her up and down. “So you aren’t a buckle bunny then?”
Even I knew what a buckle bunny was, and I couldn’t believe he’d asked Cortnie such a derogatory question. For the uninitiated, a buckle bunny is a girl who goes to rodeos to pick up cowboys and have sex with them, or if she’s really lucky (a matter of taste, I suppose), she’d snag him and marry him.
Cortnie giggled like a teenager. “Good one. Nope, just a former cowgirl. I miss it sometimes. Cowboys like you and Bucky were my heroes back in the day. Having you in the office is like having a celebrity here, but I promise not to be a fan girl.”
Under her breath, Jackie said, “Too late.”
“So I think our next move should be to go out to Bucky’s place and pay him a visit.” I stood, indicating the meeting was coming to an end. “Would you like to join us, Skinner?”
“I think you should talk to Pam Brown before you visit with Bucky. She can tell you about her business dealings with him. They just came out of a nasty court battle, and I’d say she was on the losing end.”
“Why don’t you save me the time, and give me the details?”
“I’m not privy to the details, so anything I say would be gossip.” He put his hat back on his head. “I’ve got to get to work. I can’t go out to Bucky’s with you; he’s got a restraining order against me.”
That would have been nice to know up front. I looked at Jackie and Cortnie, who now had thin straight lines for lips.
“Cortnie, want to help me before we leave? It’s almost time.” Jackie dashed toward the kitchen.
Cortnie didn’t even say goodbye as she followed after Jackie.
“Mr. Mathis, full disclosure up front is nice.” I came around the front of my desk. “I’m going to let this one pass, but please, if there is anything else I need to know that is going to affect our ability to investigate, let me know now. Getting blindsided is not one of my favorite activities.”
He assured me there wasn’t, and I walked him out to his pickup at the curb. As we walked down to the sidewalk, I explained how we would go about investigating Bucky Cox, and that we had to be very discreet because of the campaign. Discreet that is, until we had concrete proof, then we could blow the lid off his campaign and muddy his little waters until his campaign was in the toilet.
Skinner reached in his pocket and pulled out another wad of cash. “Look, I know I gave you a retainer, but this should be enough for the entire case. When this runs out, you’ll have to be finished. It’s all I have.”
I didn’t want to count the cash in front of him and look greedy, but the thickness of the stack of bills told me it would be more than enough to cover our expenses for at least several days worth of work, if not more. And if we were efficient, maybe we’d be able to give him back some of the money. I’d count the exact amount when I got back inside. I knew he knew exactly how much he’d given me, especially if it was all he had left.
When I got inside, everyone was waiting for me in the foyer. I dashed by them to my office and put the cash in my safe, then I came back to meet up with the ladies and head out.
Cortnie, all five feet nothing of her, was dwarfed by Jackie’s five-six or so, plus the four inch heels of her Jimmy Choos. She’d pulled out all the stops that morning. We all had on little black dresses, and could probably stock a small store with what we own in our closets. Owning black clothing was a hazard of being a private detective. Fading in on a dark night was a necessity.
“You ready?”
My stomach lurched. “We still have time. Do you think we can drive by Bucky’s ranch before we go?”
“You don’t want to get there early?”
“I don’t want to go at all.” I walked toward my office. “I’m going to grab some flat shoes in case we get out of the car at Bucky’s.”
Walking out to the parking lot, I saw Nick pull up in his Porsche Boxster.
Jackie said, “Cortnie and I will wait in your car.”
I nodded and walked over to the driver’s side of Nick’s car and leaned down as he rolled down the window.
Nick Christianson was my boyfriend. Oh, I love that word, boyfriend. We’d been dating almost since he’d moved back to Salinas to work for the police department. Detective Christianson worked homicide, and we’d become reacquainted when I’d been working for a New York Times bestselling author, as a bodyguard, and that author’s assistant had been murdered.
Nick and I had been in a weird relationship back in college, and I’d hoped to never see him again, but with time passing, we had a better relationship this time around.
Nick had been a looker in college, with wavy black hair always just a little too long, and piercing gray eyes staring out from his dark, brooding face. Now he was even more handsome, with the lines of time adding to his character, and the brooding turned to wisdom. For a man I’d never wanted to see again, I’d fallen pretty hard, very fast.
“Don’t you look snazzy?” I said.
Unlike his normal, simple suit for work, he wore a tailored charcoal gray jacket with a deep purple shirt, and a lavender tie. It was obvious he’d learned a few things from Charles about dressing. I’d bet he was even using Charles’ tailor, because the fit around his torso was snug, and his shirt sleeve showed about the same amount of fabric I’d seen when Charles wore a suit.
“Thanks.” A man of many words.
I looked past him to the passenger seat, and then back. “I thought you had to work today. Are you going to the funeral after all?”
107
Charles
Nick turned away from Mimi and looked at me. Oh, hell no, I wasn’t going to be the one to explain it to her. I sat quietly in the passenger seat and didn’t say a word. I’d been getting good at it. It might be a new characteristic for me. Or not.
He looked back to Mimi. “No, we aren’t going to the funeral. The time for mourning is over. But you don’t have to worry, because you’re always dressed in black, ready for any funeral, any day.”
I’m pretty sure I saw Mimi visibly exhale. The silence ended. I leaned down and asked, “So, traitor, were you planning to go?”
She stuck her head clear in the car, right in front of Nick’s face, her freshly colored caramel hair, with creamy highlights, brushing his nose. “I’ve been dreading it all morning. So has everyone else. But we were going to support you, you jerk. And now you aren’t going?”
I leaned over and got nose to nos
e with her. “It’s dead and buried. It’s a hunk of metal, scrap metal, and I don’t ever want to see it again.”
She blew her TicTac minted breath in my face. “Not the damn car, idiot. Anthony’s funeral.”
I shook my head. “I sent flowers. I’m pretty sure his family doesn’t want me there. They’ve already tried to have me brought up on murder charges.”
Nick and Mimi looked at me, eyes wide.
“They actually tried to have me charged in Anthony’s death. Something about causing him so much grief that I baited him into suicide.” I really felt for his family, and I understood they’d lost their only son, but maybe they should have been there for him more while he was alive, then he’d have had someone to turn to, and not had to endure the loneliness. They’d hated his way of life, but in death, he was now somehow a saint, and I had tainted, or in their eyes, killed him.
“You realize that’s bogus, right?” Nick asked.
I stared at him. Did I look stupid?
Mimi slammed the back of her head on the door as she tried to stand. “Crap.” She backed out of the car, but still had her hands on the window sill, and her face in the window. “I didn’t order flowers. It’s probably too late.”
“It won’t matter. They’ll never even notice. It’s the thought that counts. Are you still going?”
Mimi cocked her head and rubbed the back of it. “Are you?”
I shook my head. “Like I said, not my place. Besides, like Nick said, the time for mourning is over. My baby is gone. Time to move on.”
The hunk of metal was my baby, my Porsche Spyder 550. My precious baby of a car. I’d treated that car better than I treated myself, which is pretty damn good, and within a matter of minutes, it was a pile of rubble on the rocks off of Big Sur. Who drives a car they are unfamiliar with like a bat out of hell, on winding roads they don’t know, in weather that may affect the conditions? Apparently the idiot Anthony was screwing. Well, not anymore, unless they have cars and roads in hell.
Gotcha Detective Agency Mystery Box Set Page 81
