The Drop Dead Blonde

by Bill Craig

  “Okay. Sure, but I get the exclusive once you break it?” Lisa asked.

  “That goes without saying,” Harker told her.

  “Good to know. So, spill. I’ll see what I can do to help you, but I need to know what you know.”

  “Emma Cain was a temp through Thrivas Staffing. I need to talk to them and find out who she was working for. According to her boyfriend, Emma was very concerned about something going on at the company that she was working for, but she didn’t tell him what it was,” Harker explained.

  “What do you think she found?”

  “I have no way to know,” Harker shrugged.

  “Can you speculate?” Lisa asked him, arching an eyebrow at him.

  “I could, but I won’t.” Harker snuffed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the nightstand on his side of the bed.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I still don’t know enough about Emma Cain and why she wanted to see me. I don’t want any pre-conceived notions to cloud the evidence that I uncover. That way I can follow the evidence to a successful conclusion,” Harker replied, sitting up.

  “Don’t get mad at me, AJ, I was just asking,” Lisa leaned across him to crush out her own cigarette, her bare breasts rubbing against his chest. She looked up into his eyes.

  “You like that, don’t you?”

  “Do you hear me complaining?”

  “Not at all,” Lisa smiled. She started kissing his chest and worked her way down lower. Harker moaned in ecstasy as her mouth found him and took him in.

  Umberto had watched the woman arrive at Harker’s place. He had written down her license plate number, so he could call it into the boss. It looked like Harker was in for the night, and that suited Umberto just fine. He was tired and hungry and wanted nothing more than to go to bed. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the boss to report. He explained that he was sure that Harker was in for the night and gave his boss the license plate number.

  “Go home, I’ll put someone else on for the night. You just be back by dawn!” He ordered.

  “Will do, boss,” Umberto replied, starting his car and heading home. Before long, another car took his place, watching Harker’s apartment.

  The storm of the night before had blown away, leaving the streets wet when the sun rose to break the dawn. The humidity was awful as the sun continued to rise. Harker was awake before Lisa, and had gone to the kitchen. He had cooked bacon and then fried eggs in the grease. When Lisa appeared, he had had bacon, eggs and toast ready and waiting, as well as a pot of coffee. She added sugar and milk to hers, but Harker took his black with two sugars.

  “I feel like a queen,” Lisa noted, as she began to sample the meal laid out before her.

  “That was the idea,” Harker smiled at her.

  “So, what’s up?” Lisa said, as she looked at him over her coffee cup.

  “You said you would help. This is my thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Lisa told him.

  “Thanks.”

  “So, what are you going to do today?” she asked.

  “First, I’m heading over to Thrivas to see if they will tell me about Emma Cain and where she was working at the time of her death,” Harker explained.

  “Do you want some company?” Lisa asked, her voice hopeful.

  “Not yet. I’ll let you know when I do,” Harker told her.

  “What about the cops?”

  “I’ll call Manny when I am sure I have something,” Harker told her.

  “Promise?” Lisa asked him, her voice concerned.

  “I promise,” Harker reassured her with a long and passionate kiss.

  An hour later, Harker was showered, shaved, dressed and on his way to Thrivas Staffing at 4511 N. Himes Ave. He was wearing a blue blazer and khaki Dockers over brown New Balance walking shoes. He was prepared if he had to run anybody down. He wore a white sleeveless t-shirt underneath it. His Ruger rode his hip in its holster. He had two 14 round magazines in his jacket pockets. Not that he expected to need it, but better safe than sorry.

  He was greeted inside by a pretty Hispanic receptionist named Lola. Harker explained that he needed to speak to her boss about one of their workers. She had him take a seat in an overstuffed leather chair while she made a call. Five minutes later, a stunning blonde with waist length hair walked through a door behind the desk.

  “Mr. Harker? I’m Valerie Queen. I’ll be happy to talk to you about Miss Cain,” she told him.

  “Thanks,” Harker replied, as he followed her through the door and down a long hallway. Miss Queen had Nordic features and her hips were pure poetry in motion. Harker had already decided that he would be happy to follow her anywhere. Finally, she turned into a doorway at the end of the hall. Harker assumed that it was her office. She took a seat behind the desk, and he took one in front of it.

  “Now, how can I help you, Mr. Harker?” she asked.

  “I don’t know if you have heard the news yet, but Emma Cain is dead,” Harker said.

  “What? How?” Valerie gasped, her hand going to her mouth.

  “She was shot on my doorstep. I am trying to find out why,” Harker explained.

  “Oh my God! That’s horrible!”

  “Can you tell me what company that she had been assigned to?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Harker, but that is confidential.”

  “Okay. I can call the detective working the case and have him here in under twenty minutes and he can haul your perfect ass downtown and ask you in an interrogation room. Either way, I find out what I want to know,” Harker shrugged his shoulders, as he shook out a cigarette and fired it up.

  “You can’t smoke in here,” Valerie told him.

  “So, call the cops. Or you can answer my question and I’ll leave and you’ll never have to see me again.”

  “That’s blackmail!”

  “Yes, it is. Your call,” he smiled at her.

  “Fine! Let me check,” Valerie snapped, as she began typing on her keyboard. A few minutes later, she leaned back in her chair and told him, “She was employed as a temp at Costanza Industries.”

  “Who was her immediate supervisor?” Harker asked.

  “I don’t have that information,” Val shook her head.

  “Give me their address.” She gave it to him and then Harker was up and walking out of her office. He sighed, as he walked down the long hallway to the exit. He liked Valerie Queen. But something’s just weren’t to be.

  Lisa Castela had finished her rounds of the police beat and wrote her stories for the street edition of the Herald. Now, she was busy digging into Thrivas Staffing. They were to all appearances, a legitimate staffing service. They specialized in IT and legal services. Her gut was telling her that the IT services had more to do with what Harker was looking for than anything else that they were into. Lisa sipped at her coffee as she read through the old news clippings. She knew that AJ was onto something, the question was what?

  Raoul Cervantes frowned as he read through the reports that he had been sent overnight. Harker was getting close and he didn’t even know it. He had to find a way to stop him. What would be the best way? It was an interesting speculation, one that he planned to spend a fair amount of time in making it happen. What would be the best way to do it? That was the question. Cervantes sighed.

  “Manny, have you got anything new on Emma Cain’s murder?” Harker asked.

  “Not yet, Amigo. You got anything that might help us?” Manny asked.

  “I don’t know anything for sure yet, but I’m working on it.”

  “I don’t find that at all reassuring, AJ.”

  “You never do, Manny. You need to trust me on this one.”

  “Every time you say that, all hell breaks loose.”

  “It’s not always my fault, Manny.”

  “Sure, AJ, keep telling yourself that,” Mendez groaned.

  “You ever hear of a company called Costanza Industries?” Harker asked.

  “Not that I can remember
off the top of my head, no.”

  “Emma Cain was working as a temp for them through Thrivas Staffing. You might want to look into that and see what the connection is.”

  “That actually sounds like a lead, my friend.”

  “I told you, Manny, I’m trying to help.”

  “Then where are you?”

  “I’m on my way to Costanza Industries,” Harker said, before hanging up.

  He grinned as he shook out a cigarette and lit it. He exhaled a cloud of smoke out the open window of his Jeep. The wind whipped it away as he drove. Harker parked in front of the address that he had been given for Costanza Industries. It was a steel and glass building that rose fifteen stories up into the air. Was this the place where Emma Cain had worked? The place that she had uncovered something that had gotten her killed? There was only one way to find out. He climbed out of his Jeep, using the key fob to lock it as he headed for the front door.

  Lisa Castela frowned as she looked at her computer screen. Costanza Industries was a shell corporation. That was bad news. It would be even worse news for Harker. If he went there, he was putting a target on his back, as if there wasn’t one there already.

  Lucas Costanza had once been a politician of some renown in Little Havana before he had been exposed for corruption when a Scorpion Cay attorney was murdered in his home while working on a merger for the company. A private eye down in the keys had exposed the whole thing and Costanza had barely managed to recover. She picked up the telephone and dialed Harker’s cell number.

  “What have you got?” AJ asked her.

  “You need to stay far away from Costanza Industries, AJ, she told him.

  “I’m already on my way in,” Harker told her.

  “Be careful, AJ. Costanza is dangerous.”

  Chapter Six

  AJ Harker spotted the tail as he was leaving the offices of Costanza Industries. The guy was good, but Harker was better and that was why he had spotted him. The guy was not as experienced as Harker, but he was still good. Harker got on I-95 and headed for the Fashion District. It would be a simple matter to lose the tail there and get behind him. Turn the roles around and let the hunter become the hunted. Except Harker was more aware of the rules than the guy that was tailing him.

  Harker got off on northwest 29th street. He turned left on NW 22nd Street and cut into an alley and pulled in between two buildings. The car that had been tailing drove past and Harker backed up and pulled into traffic behind him. The tail was driving a white Ford Focus two door. White was a common color in the Sunshine State. It reflected the sun and heat away instead of absorbing sunlight and heat like dark colored cars did. So, the guy was local. Which meant he was working for somebody local. Costanza? Or whoever was behind them? It was an interesting thought. One that Harker meant to find an answer for. His vehicle announced that he had a call coming in. Harker answered it.

  “What have you got for me Tina?” He asked.

  “Costanza Industries grew out of a merger between Contras Enterprises and Delacorte Imports a few years back. Jerry Contras was murdered as was his attorney Russell Cosgrove, a resident of a small island called Scorpion Cay,” Tina informed him.

  “So, what exactly is Costanza Industries?” Harker asked.

  “They are an import export firm.”

  “What do they import and export?”

  “Apparently, weapons.”

  “What kind of weapons?”

  “You name it, they handle it. Handguns, assault rifles, some weapons of mass destruction,” Tina told him.

  “Sounds pretty heavy,” Harker replied.

  “It is. I have a lead on the CEO of Costanza Industries.”

  “Which is?”

  “Raoul Cervantes.”

  “Wow. Why didn’t you just lead with that?”

  “Because I know your history, AJ,” Tina replied, popping her chewing gum.

  “You know what I’ve told you,” Harker said.

  “I know more than that. You forget that Manny is my big brother,” Tina told him.

  “I could never forget that, Tina.”

  “So you keep telling me.”

  “Where can I find Cervantes?” Harker asked.

  “That is a question that the Feds can’t even answer,” Tina popped her gum.

  “Which means that I need to find a way to draw him out into the open,” Harker said, frowning.

  “AJ, don’t go doing anything stupid.”

  “I never do, Tina.”

  “Bull shit! Maybe you should drop this case.”

  “I can’t, Tina. Emma Cain was literally murdered on my doorstep. Finding her killer is more than a matter of pride. She needs justice to be done in her name.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ve heard it before, boss.”

  “And you’ll hear it again. See what you can dig up on Cervantes and send it to my phone,” Harker broke the connection.

  Raoul Cervantes, Harker thought. That was a name that called up dark and dangerous images. Cervantes had been a former local drug kingpin. But he had ambition, so he had moved upward in the criminal underworld by branching out, letting his underlings take the fall for the drug business.

  Cervantes had become a ghost in underworld circles, running his operations behind a cloud of misdirection and secrecy that had led the cops on a merry chase of their own tails. Cervantes had literally become a man with no face that could be identified. Harker had almost nailed the son of a bitch back when he was a cop. But the guy had gotten away. He vowed that it wouldn’t happen a second time.

  So, if Cervantes was involved in black market arms dealing, it meant that he might slip up. And one slip-up was all that Harker needed. If he could make Cervantes make one mistake, he would be able to find him. And when he did, he would put a bullet in his head and end him once and for all.

  Raoul Cervantes steepled his fingers as he leaned back in his chair. He wondered exactly how much information that the dead girl had managed to copy and steal. Stella should have known better than to have sent him a goody two-shoes. Stella would have to pay for that. He frowned as he considered her fate. Cervantes picked up the telephone and dialed a specific number.

  “Raoul, how good to hear from you,” the man said.

  “I have bad news,” Raoul told him.

  “Give it to me.”

  “AJ Harker is on the case. One of my men used poor judgment and killed the girl on his sidewalk,” Raoul explained.

  “That is a problem. Did you take care of the shooter?”

  “I did,” the man on the other end said.

  Manny and Harker were having a meeting in Harker Investigations office with Tina just in the other room. Manny had gotten a call from his sister who was worried, so he came to talk.

  “So, what will you do now?” Manny asked AJ.

  “I don’t know,” AJ answered.

  “Life has many unexpected curves,” Manny Mendez announced.

  “I know that as well as you do, my friend,” Harker told him.

  “True enough,” Mendez nodded.

  “Is that why you are here?”

  “Not entirely.”

  “Then why?”

  “Tina called me. She said you were about to do something very foolish,” Manny shrugged.

  “Which would be, what?” Harker lit a cigarette.

  “She mentioned Raoul Cervantes.”

  “You know him?” Harker exhaled smoke.

  “I know of him, AJ, and he is a bad man to mess with.”

  “So am I. He started this pissing match by killing Emma Cain on my doorstep.”

  “And you just can’t let it go.” It wasn’t a question.

  “No, I can’t let it go,” Harker replied.

  “I figured that. I’ll help you any way I can, pal, but I can only do so much,” Manny told him.

  “I know that Manny. I’ll let you know when I need you.”

  “Make sure you do, otherwise my sister will kick my ass.”

  Lisa Castela put
up a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. It seemed particularly bright today. The temperature was soaring well up into the upper nineties. She was working on a follow-up on the death of Emma Cain. She had an appointment to speak to the young woman’s older sister and her mother. For some reason, she was having trouble tracking down a work address for Costanza Industries. That was strange. As near as she could find out, Costanza was a shell corporation. But she couldn’t locate where it was based, or where any of the multitude other shell corporations of which it was a part. That was bad news. She tucked her ink pen behind her ear as she regarded her computer. Lisa got up and headed for the editor’s office. She hoped that she could garner his interest in this story. She had a feeling that it would sell a hell of a lot of newspapers.

  AJ Harker was parked on Miami Beach, looking out over the water. It was nearly sunset. The day had been a long one. He wished he had a beer. A beer would be nice. Bourbon would be even nicer. Raoul Cervantes. Cervantes was a fucking ghost. But somehow, he would find him. One way or another. Harker started his car and put it in drive, heading for one of the causeway bridges that would take him back to Miami proper. Since he was technically in South Beach, he chose the MacArthur Causeway to get him back to the mainland.

  He was just passing the exit for Palm Island when he noticed two white Cadillac Escalades coming up fast behind him. Harker got a funny tickle at the center of his back like somebody was pointing a gun at him. He stomped on the gas and the passing gear kicked in and his speedometer needle jumped from 55 to 75 in just a couple of heartbeats. He glanced in the rearview mirror. The Escalades were gaining.

  Harker pulled his gun from its holster and jammed the muzzle between the seat and the seat back, so it wouldn’t fly around if things went wrong. He heard a loud boom and the rear window shattered. He glanced back. A guy was hanging out of a window and lining up his shotgun for a second shot. The Escalades were pulling even with him. Harker stomped on the brakes, fighting the wheel as he fishtailed to a stop. The two cars shot past him and the shotgun boomed again, but this time it missed. Harker snatched up his gun, thumbing off the safety and switched it to his left hand as he stomped on the gas.