The Knife Before Christmas

by Jamie Lee Scott

  Gabe shook his head. “I gotta see a man about a horse.” He got up and went to the bathroom.

  “I haven’t seen the evidence, but if they made an arrest, you can be sure the evidence is good,” Nick said.

  “But maybe there’s more. Maybe Hector was set up. Did you recover the knife?” I didn’t know if the knife was left at the scene or not. I hadn’t seen any of the evidence so far, and here I was trying to say our client was innocent.

  “As a matter of fact, they did. It was in the front yard, near a planter. Hector’s footprints were found in the dirt. So, there’s nothing to worry about. We have the right guy.”

  I squeezed a lemon wedge and dunked it in my glass of water. “If it was you and Gabe, I’d say you did your job, but I don’t know these guys.”

  Nick stood as Gabe returned to the table. “I’ll be right back.”

  I didn’t say anything else until he returned to the table. I didn’t want to have to repeat myself, and Gabe probably wouldn’t be much help. He’d had a lot to drink. He’d be paying for it in the morning.

  “So why the interest? You planning on joining the Norteño?” Nick asked when he returned to the table.

  “They don’t allow gringos,” Gabe said.

  “I was asked to investigate further,” I admitted.

  “By who? Hector Varga?” Gabe laughed. “If he’s not guilty of this murder, then it’s okay because his hands definitely aren’t clean.”

  Nick waved Gabe off. “Ignore him, he’s had too much to drink.”

  “Hector requested to see us through his attorney, Guillermo Ibara.”

  Gabe slammed his beer bottle onto the table. “Memo? That slimeball?”

  Nick grimaced. “We?”

  “The agency,” I said.

  “Mimi is a part of this? You told Memo no, right?”

  I grinned. It was a guilty grin. “We didn’t say no.”

  “Ah shit, Charles, this isn’t good,” Nick ran his fingers through his hair.

  “I don’t know, there might be nothing to it. We’re going to snoop around and ask some questions.” I had no idea why I was defending my decision. “Maybe see about getting a better look at the evidence.”

  “I’ll talk to Mimi about this in the morning,” Nick said.

  “And you think that’s going to go well?”

  Nick’s face screwed up. “You’re probably right, but I need to look out for her.”

  Now I felt the need to defend Mimi, too. “I’m pretty sure she can take care of herself.”

  “She’s my responsibility, too,” Nick snapped.

  I ignored his pissy attitude, got off my stool, and walked to the bar.

  The place had mostly cleared out, so I thought it would be a good time to talk to the bartender. Especially since the noise level had fallen enough that I could hear myself think.

  “What can I get you?” he asked, wiping the bar with a damp towel.

  “I’ll take another round.”

  When he came back to me with two waters and a beer, I started asking my questions. “Were you working the other night when the Norteño gang was in here?”

  He raised his brows. “Damn, I thought that’s who they were. All that blue and the tattoos. I just kept my head down and prayed there wasn’t a brawl. I seriously worried someone wearing red might walk in. That would have been the end of my business. Cops couldn’t get here fast enough even if they’d been next door.”

  I turned around and stretched my hand out to Nick. He walked over and grabbed the beer and his glass. I put up my finger to let him know I’d be right back.

  “So, everything was cool? No arguments?”

  “It was a bunch of drunk guys, so there were a few tense moments and some swearing, but it was mostly good.” He spoke as he cleaned up the bar next to me where three people had just gotten up and left.

  “Did you, by any chance, hear conversations that made your Spidey senses go off?”

  He stopped working. “You’re talking about that stabbing, aren’t you?”

  “What stabbing?” I could even hear how lame I sounded.

  “That girl. The one who was killed by the gang leader. The guy was in here that night. He was so drunk they had to practically carry him out. I swear if the kid who looked like him didn’t insist they help him, they’d have left him here. Then what was I going to do? Call the cops on a gang leader? Not that I knew who he was at the time.”

  “Yep, that girl. I’m looking a little closer at the investigation.”

  “The cops already came by. I ain’t got nothing, man. I didn’t hear anything. And everyone was respectful. Only thing that stood out was how their head guy was so plastered he had his head down on the table in the corner.” He pointed to the table by the pinball machines.

  “And you say they were going to just leave him?” I thought this a curious way to treat their main guy.

  “It seemed that way. The one guy, he had to threaten a couple of guys to get them to help him out. Then three of them got the drunken fool off the seat and out the door. I’d bet his head hurt in the morning. But apparently, he’s a violent drunk when he comes to if he killed that girl.”

  “Allegedly,” I said.

  “Not according to the news. They said it’s ironclad evidence.” He stretched the hose and added more water to my glass. “I heard they found him in the room with her, blood all over him, too drunk to even leave the scene of the crime.”

  “Don’t always believe what the media tells you these days,” I said.

  He laughed at that. “Amen, brother.”

  “We’re still giving it a closer look,” I handed him a Gotcha business card. “If you think of anything, please let me know.”

  He put the card in the breast pocket of his shirt. “I doubt I’ll have any revelations.”

  “Were there any girls with them?” I asked.

  “Nope, it was all guys. There were a few girls in here for a little while, but they hadn’t come in with the guys. And they didn’t stay long because a few of the boys were a little too forward. I was about to say something, then the girls left.”

  “What about any regulars? Would they have been in here or heard anything?”

  He frowned as if he was considering it. “It’s been a few days, so if they had, they’d probably have said something. These kinds of guys like to think they’re in the know. Gossipy type, you know?”

  I knew. I pushed my water glass toward him. “I’ll close out our tab.”

  When I walked back to the table, Gabe wanted another beer.

  “Not if you’re riding in my car,” Nick said.

  They stood and we headed out. Nick steered Gabe to the front door because he was headed to the bar. I held the door so Nick could get the drunkard out of the place. Gabe was usually so prim and proper, it was funny to see him let loose.

  On the way home, I sat in the passenger seat and looked out the window, deep in my own thoughts about the Varga case. Gabe snored so loudly from the back seat that Nick cranked the music to drown it out.

  Back at Mimi’s house, I had to go inside to get my keys. Earlier, Nick wouldn’t leave for the bar until he had both mine and Gabe’s keys.

  “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” Nick led Gabe down the hallway, stopping to grab a small garbage bag and a towel along the way.

  I’d almost fallen asleep on the couch by the time Nick came back.

  “Sorry, that took longer than I thought. I’m going to kill him if he pukes on the floor or the bed. I’ll call Cortnie and make her clean up after her husband.”

  “Yeah, that’s going to happen. She’s been feeling a bit queasy herself. If she gets me sick, I’ll never forgive her.” I sat up, leaning forward as if I was ready to leave.

  Nick sat on the couch across from me. “I’m worried about this client you’ve taken. Not just because I think he’s guilty, but because once you’re involved in gang business, you never get out. They’ll keep coming back. Look at Memo; he’s in their bac
k pocket.”

  I rolled my head around, stretching the kinks out of my neck. “We’re in, Nick. I already told Memo we’d take his client.”

  Nick blew out a breath. “I’m going to look at the murder book when I get time. Maybe I can find something that will make you change your mind.”

  “And what good is that going to do? We already said yes. Backing out now will really make for hard feelings.”

  “I’m going to look at the file anyway. What are you planning to do next?”

  “The bartender wasn’t any help. He made it sound like the Norteño were model citizens, at least while they were in the bar, other than hitting a little hard on some girls.”

  Nick’s lips moved in distaste. “They don’t have any respect for women for the most part, other than their mothers, and sometimes not even then.”

  “You know anything about Hector Varga and his family you can share?” I may as well get what I could out of Nick if he was willing to share.

  Nick looked down the hall. “Don’t let Gabe know if I actually do share anything. We’re good partners, so I don’t want him pissed if I shared something that maybe I shouldn’t.”

  “You’ve been at this long enough to know what you should and shouldn’t share,” I said.

  “This is the way it’s got to be. Say nothing to Gabe. Deal?”

  “Deal,” I said.

  “Hector is clean. In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s instrumental in some of his guys being arrested and convicted. Somehow, evidence shows up that mysteriously solidifies a case. Evidence that wasn’t initially available. I know it’s not because of Memo. With him, evidence mysteriously disappears. He has some deep pockets to pay off people. The Norteño pay him well.”

  “But aren’t those pockets also Hector’s pockets?”

  Nick laughed, then realized he needed to be quiet. “Memo’s payment comes from someone way higher in the food chain than Hector, who’s only in his position because his douchebag father was murdered. And he’s just a local leader.”

  “I know. I’d planned to look into that, too,” I said.

  “No need. He was shot in the back while trying to get into his house. From what I heard, his wife was pissed off at him and changed the locks while he was at work. He was shot because he couldn’t get into the house.”

  “Any witnesses? Any arrests?”

  “No witnesses. We never found the gun, but it was a thirty-eight. He died on the front porch of his house. What a way to go,” Nick said.

  “Then Hector took his place? I didn’t think he was all that influential. He’s too young.”

  Nick shook his head. “He’s not that young. He’s in his twenties. Most of these gangbangers are either dead or no longer in gangs by the time they’re thirty. He’s easily at the end of his viable gang life. There are guys as old as fifty who are still going strong, but they are some of the top dogs. They got that way because they’re still alive.”

  “I don’t know anything about gang life or hierarchy—hoped I’d never need to know. And even with this, I still don’t need to know.” Though, truth be told, I was more curious than I wanted to be.

  “Watch out for the women. They are notorious for starting shit. And since Hector’s family is connected, they’re even more dangerous. I think Hector’s sister is married to a Norteño member, but I can’t say for sure.”

  “Mimi and I plan to have a chat with the ladies, at least Hector’s mom and sister. I think there’s a good chance someone knows something, and they might accidentally give it up.” I looked at my watch. “I’ve got an early morning. But I wanted to ask, do you know if Mario is seeing anyone? If he has a main squeeze? Hector thinks he’s responsible for the murder.”

  “That I can’t tell you. It’s been a few months since I’ve had a run in with those guys. No drive-by murders in six months, which tells me shit is going to hit the fan soon, so be careful.” Nick stood and walked me to the door.

  “We’ll keep our heads down as much as possible. No need to make waves. The family will want Hector exonerated if he’s not guilty, right? We just won’t mention that we are looking at Mario for the killing.”

  “What are you going to say to Mario when you talk to him then? He needs to know he’s a suspect.”

  Nick was right. “I guess saying something to him directly won’t hurt. We just need to keep it in the family and not telegraph it to the gang.”

  “Good idea,” Nick said. “I’ll see what I can do to help since you’re working for his attorney. To be honest, I’d like to see this guy behind bars no matter what.”

  “Even if he really never did anything wrong? He says he never killed anyone, or asked anyone to kill.”

  Nick choked back a laugh. “And you believed him? Look at his tattoos. Those assholes are stupid enough to put the proverbial notch on their belts. I’d bet he’s got numbers or symbols of some sort tattooed on his torso.”

  “You know how much I hate to see a man’s torso, so I’ll get a good look as soon as I have the chance.”

  “I’m not going to break any laws to help you, but any and all evidence has to be given to the defense before the case goes to trial. It’s not unheard of for a private detective to come in after the scene has been released to see if they can find any new evidence. Heck, we cleared a guy when I was in San Francisco based on evidence a P.I. found. I do know this: the autopsy was done today.” He looked at his watch. “Actually, I guess it would be yesterday now.”

  “Hopefully we can clear our client and find the real killer, too,” I said.

  “It would be nice, but don’t count on it. Gomer and Putty are better cops than their nicknames give them credit for. And remember, all the evidence isn’t in yet. They still have to look at the coroner’s report.”

  As I walked to my car, I wondered why Nick was being so agreeable.

  Eight

  MIMI

  I did not want to get up when the alarm went off. The noise of Nick and the boys coming home woke me up, but Gabe getting up to puke kept me awake. I knew I had an early morning, so of course my mind went into overdrive thinking everything it could come up with to keep me stressed and awake.

  I did get out of bed though, because I had a client who needed me to tail a guy for insurance fraud. When I looked next to me, I saw Nick was already out of bed. I wondered if he’d left yet or was just awake. Turns out, he was gone, and I needed to be gone soon, too.

  Sometimes tailing a person meant following them around all morning while they ran their errands, not just sitting in a car looking at them through binoculars. That’s what I had been doing since eight o’clock. One of the insurance companies we worked for asked us to keep an eye on a claimant for an auto accident. The person was rear-ended by the customer of the insurance company and, according to their customer, the “victim” had seemed fine and even said he was fine at the scene of the accident. A couple of hours later, he claimed to have whiplash and had hurt his back so badly he could barely walk. The “victim” was suing for lost wages and conscious pain and suffering, along with his injuries. All of this occurred two days earlier.

  Speaking from experience, a person doesn’t heal from whiplash or wrenched back in forty-eight hours. When I first started following the gentleman in his gold Volkswagen Beetle, I was suspicious. He left his house without wearing a neck collar and got into his car without seeming to have any pain issues. Click, click, click, I took pictures. There was always the chance he was driving under the influence of a narcotic he was using as a painkiller. Even with that, a person with an injured back moves differently, protecting the injury.

  I followed him from his house to the drive-thru at Starbucks, grocery shopping, where he had no trouble loading his groceries, then to a big box electronics store. I didn’t follow him into the electronics store. I just waited for him to come back out. And when he did, he was carrying a huge box that turned out to be a computer printer. Click, click. Behind him, a store employee had wheeled a large box with a flat scre
en television in it. It was a fifty-two inch flat screen TV, and it didn’t look light. The man I was following proceeded to bend at the waist and lift the TV off the cart. Somehow, he was able to shove it into the backseat of his Volkswagen. I switched to video mode on my camera and made a movie of his heroic feats. Amazing what you can do with a bad back when you want to.

  The photos at the electronics store would seal the dismissal of the case. The twisting and turning he did while loading his groceries into the car should have been enough for the insurance company to deny the claim, but when they saw him wrestling that TV and printer into the backseat of his Volkswagen Beetle, he was done for. I didn’t see the insurance company paying any of his nonexistent medical bills or suffering claim.

  By the time I arrived at the office, business was in full swing. Lydia was in her office, writing up reports and scanning through what looked like a phone log. Uta was on the phone answering calls, and Cortnie was in her office hunkered over her desk.

  “How are you feeling this morning?” I asked as I stepped inside her office.

  She looked up from what she was working on and smiled. “I’m feeling better, but that’s because I’ve been munching on saltine crackers all morning. At least now I know why I feel so crappy.”

  I sat down next to her desk. “What did Gabe have to say?”

  Cortnie rolled her eyes. “I didn’t even tell him. That big baby was so hungover, I spent the morning taking care of him. When I found out I was pregnant, I didn’t realize I was going to have two babies in the house.”

  “Yeah, Nick said it got pretty out of hand last night. We talked a bit when he came to bed. They weren’t quiet when they arrived home, so I knew someone had too much to drink. And when Charles stopped drinking early, Gabe went on to drink enough for both of them. I was surprised Gabe was already gone this morning when I got up.”

  Cortnie turned in her chair. “Gabe was in such bad shape I didn’t even ask him about last night. To be honest, I didn’t want to know. I was just glad he didn’t get out of bed and dry heave because that would’ve made me dry heave, and I’ve had enough of that.”