Peppermint Soul (Liza McNairy Mysteries Book 1)

by Dan Glover

  "I understand you see things, Mr. Forthright."

  "Please call me Danners, Ms. McNairy. I see all sorts of things, sure."

  "Why don’t you call me Liza, Danners? And you know what I mean."

  "Liza? With a Z? As in Liza Minnelli?"

  "Yeah... my parents had a sense of humor."

  "Apparently. What can I do for you, Liza with a Z? Are you a reporter?"

  "I'm a private detective. I've been hired to work the case you were tried and convicted on, Danners. I could use some assistance."

  "The last time I tried to help, I was arrested. Do you know I came within six hours of being executed, Liza?"

  "I know. I studied your case, Danners. I also know the police never followed up on the leads you provided. They thought they had their man. You. Let's prove them wrong."

  That's been an easy one. The suspect was still alive and living not two blocks from where he'd kidnapped the boy. The body had never been found, at least not until the two of them had cracked the case wide open. Of course in those days Liza worked alone with him staying in the background. He wanted it like that. Too many bad memories of what happened to people who knew things they couldn’t possibly know.

  The boy had ridden the bus to school, got off the same place he always did, but never made it home. The police had interviewed hundreds of witnesses but it wasn’t until Danners Forthright came forward with a dream he had that they finally made an arrest. Him. It seemed that the real perp had been reading all about Danners and enjoying the mess he'd landed himself in, so much so that the man kept an active scrapbook on the court proceedings.

  It was that compunction to keep tabs on him which led Danners straight to the suspect. The man actually had the gall to take pictures of Danners walking down the street. Thinking the man might be a nosey reporter Danners approached him and touched him on the shoulder. And he knew. Funny how things like that worked. He never understood the gift and in fact looked upon it as a curse, especially after the predicament the ability he carried landed him in. Liza changed all that. She taught him that the true measure of a human being did not reside in their accomplishments but instead in the aid rendered to others.

  They'd become a team. Inseparable. Like brother and sister only closer. They called them McNairy and wife, the mean ones, and even his friends. And of course he laughed along even when he knew the derogatory term was not meant in jest. He couldn’t help what and who he was no more than anyone else. He lived with it every day.

  Was he infatuated with Liza McNairy? No... the feelings went far deeper than that. He was in love with her. Unrequited. What's more he knew his feelings were reciprocated. Liza loved him as well. She told him so many times. Yet he also knew that the love she felt and the love in his own heart were as different as queer and straight could be.

  He was the father she'd lost as a teenager... the man who cherished her above all others. He was the twin sister who died in that fire. What's more, he accepted that role. These things he saw... they existed in some timeless realm beyond the space he inhabited and yet they were as much part of him as the flesh encasing his bones. It scared him at times to be privy to such secrets that only old witches and Gypsy women saw yet there it was.

  He helped Liza solve cold cases. They gave hope to the disenfranchised of the world. The forgotten ones, the misplaced miscreants languishing in hells not of their own making. That they charged a fee for those services seemed to rankle certain people. The fact that they were being paid well to do similar jobs meant nothing to their critics, though. There were those who were being paid and yet gave up when the going got tough. Men like Hank Lupo, taking advantage of the love given to him by those who should know better.

  Goddamn it... if those twins were alive, he'd find them or his name wasn’t Danners Forthright.

  Chapter 45—The Captain

  (And Dreams of Liza)

  He had to pull himself together. Ever since those days he'd spent with Paula Picany she was all he thought about. Christ, the woman was a good five years older than him... what did he see in her?

  The Captain seemed miffed over something. Though they'd never been coffee klatch buddies at least Presti would nod his way when they passed each other. Raise his eyebrows in salute. But for the last week whenever Hank walked by the man's office he was busy. As if he was purposely ignoring him. Captain Presti had always been a bit of an odd bird for California—a Sicilian who had no accent—and the two of them had never hit off even though they went way back, well before Hank joined the Sheriff's Department.

  Sure, he'd disappeared for a few days but that shit had happened before without any repercussions. What had changed? Obviously, a lot. Was someone talking to the Captain? Was the investigation that Hank had always feared finally coming down on him? He wanted to get away but at the same instance sensed now might not be the best occasion even though he had a good deal of vacation time saved.

  "Liza! I'm glad you called. Could we meet? I have some additional information you might be interested in hearing."

  It was strange how the Picany case had come to life in recent days. Old leads seemingly dead had resurfaced as potential possibilities. Supposedly a man in custody down in Laredo had confessed to kidnapping the twins that long ago day but his story was suspect from the start. Still, the confession had opened up heretofore blind alleys that might well be worth exploring. Since he hadn’t the manpower to check them all out, Hank figured he'd make use of the free labor provided by Liza McNairy and her girlfriend Danners.

  Yeah, he tried to scare them away at first. But now, he regretted listening to the Captain. The man had his own agenda. Christ. There was more to life than money, and Liza McNairy had a tendency of reminding him of that from time to time.

  All right. So he loved the girl. May as well admit it. Well, maybe love was too strong a word. Had he ever loved anyone? His kids, sure. But that was different. He had to love them. Didn’t he? Meeting Liza had changed his entire attitude about life and the world in general and for the better. A rare and precious thing now that he considered it.

  "Sure... we can meet, Hank. Maybe you can help us out... we're leaning to the conclusion that the Picany twins might still be alive. We need to get into the federal database but neither of us can gain access."

  Liza McNairy was smart. She knew just how to play him... always had. Hell, he probably shouldn’t be trotting around after the girl but damn she looked good. He'd had more women than he could count—his position afforded him opportunities that the normal swinging dick never got—but Liza had always been the one in his dreams. He could imagine everything about her, but Christ it'd be nice to know for sure.

  "I'll bring my laptop, Liza. We can access it when we meet."

  He still remembered the first day he laid eyes on Liza McNairy. Boot camp for pigs, or so he thought of it. Mostly green-gilled kids hoping to hustle a job where they'd be able to wear a big gun and push people around. He hated them all... except for the girl who stood off in the back as if not sure she fit in... like she might be ready to turn and bolt before she became too ensnared.

  He hadn’t been such a horndog in those days, or so he liked to think. Sure, he enjoyed the women, but he'd yet to perfect the detective thing... the swagger, the flash of the badge... all aimed at exciting the lust in the females and the envy in men. Power—it was the ultimate aphrodisiac. He befriended the girl. Kept her from quitting. She in turn encouraged him over the rough spots. Later, when they both made the grade, he found himself working side by side with Liza and loving each minute.

  She hadn’t wanted that kid Conover as a partner. By that time he'd made detective while Liza was still a foot soldier. Hank liked to think it was on account of his superior ability but in truth he knew it was because he had a dick and she didn’t. Plus the Captain had pulled some strings for old time's sake. Liza had come to him for help and he refused. Told her to deal with it. He'd been having a rough time of it what with the Captain riding his ass about solving at leas
t one of those goddamned cold cases, like all of a sudden he could snap his fingers and make it happen. Fucking asshole.

  So he hadn’t given Liza any support. He'd let her flounder all the time knowing a word from him would save her the hassle of working with some new kid who still needed his ass wiped each time he shat. The next thing he knew they were holding a closed-casket funeral for Conover, and Liza McNairy—one of the best officers he ever had the pleasure of working with—was gone. Quit the force. Retired.

  Did he feel guilty? Only every minute or so... unless he happened to be inebriated... which while it didn’t eliminate the memories all together at least the drinking quelled them to a level where he could deal.

  Though he teased Danners Forthright relentlessly, he was actually fond of the man. Danners kept Liza from total self-destruction, or so he sensed. When he first heard that Liza had taken up with an ex-con who'd done time for murder, Hank didn’t know what to think. Had she finally gone over the edge? Should he look into having her committed? But then he met Danners and realized all his fears were unfounded. Danners was all right even if he was a goddamned queer.

  The twins might still be alive? Is that what Liza had said?

  Chapter 46—Drinks

  (With Tom Collins)

  So now she was fucking the detective. He supposed he couldn’t blame her. And who was this guy in his living room? Reilly Cooper? McNairy and Forthright had asked for extra money to procure a tail. Cooper must be the man. Here he was, sitting in front of him with his feet up and saying how he'd been hired by the pair to surveil Paula Picany and did Allen know she was spending time with Hank Lupo, the detective in charge of the cold case unit? How the hell could he know that with any certainty?

  Why would McNairy and Forthright want Paula watched? Wait a second... now he remembered. Damn the alcohol. McNairy had asked him about hiring a man to follow a suspect in the case. Was the suspect his own wife? If so, he could see why he wasn’t told. Still, if he was paying for the tail, he had a right to know.

  He didn’t get it. What was this Cooper's angle? Money? No... there was more going on here. It had to do with the prestige of solving the case himself, perhaps, or else the man had a gripe against McNairy and Forthright. What did he really know about those two, anyway? The fact they were on the television each time he looked only meant lots of other people were taken in by their masquerade. Who did they think they were fooling?

  "I'm sorry to be bringing you this news, Mr. Picany, but if she was my wife, I'd want to know."

  "Yes, thank you, Mr. Cooper. But Hank Lupo is the lead detective on our case. Couldn’t they simply be going over some of the details?"

  "Absolutely... that's doubtlessly what they're doing, Mr. Picany. I'm sorry to have bothered you."

  "Could I offer you a drink, Mr. Cooper?"

  "It's a tad early... and please, call me Reilly. I always feel like my dad when someone calls me Mr. Cooper."

  "It's nearly five o'clock in the afternoon, Reilly."

  "Really! Time does fly, doesn’t it, Mr. Picany."

  "Call me Allen. I'm going to fix myself another Tom Collins... sure you wouldn’t care for one, Reilly?"

  "You know what? Why not. One won't hurt anything."

  Was this guy queer too? He had that look about him but lots of people wore pink shirts these days. Not that you'd ever catch him in one. Titty pink, that's what you’d call it. Cooper looked rugged, like he worked out, or else had been a cowpoke in a former life. Handsome too, though his nose looked like it might've been broken once or twice. A boxer, maybe? Mixed martial arts?

  Allen hated drinking alone. Over the years, however, all his old friends had pulled away. It started when the twins vanished. No one knew what to say. The uncomfortable silence lingered so long that when it finally ended, so had most of his friendships. He supposed it didn’t really matter all that much. No one liked to drink like he did anyway.

  Paula never was much of a boozer. She took her relaxation in pill form... Xanax morning, noon, and nightie, night, night. Years ago she bitched about his drinking like he razzed her about her pill popping but as time wore on they must have called a truce. He couldn’t actually remember doing so but neither of them seemed to much care what the other did these days, and that included in the bedroom.

  He'd long ago acclimated himself to Paula's infidelities. Hell, he'd be out fucking half the countryside too if they'd have him. His wife was still a fine looking woman even now that she was hitting her mid fifties. His problem had more to do with lack of want to, he supposed, or else hitting sixty. Seemed like nothing aroused him much these days. He'd heard they had pills for that problem but what was the sense of taking them when he wasn’t fucking anyone anyhow?

  "McNairy and Forthright only authorized me to follow your wife's movements for two weeks, Allen. Would you like me to continue?"

  Ah... there it was. He knew Cooper had something up his sleeve. He was in it for the money. Of course he was. Everyone was doing whatever they could to enrich themselves. Why should this guy be any different?

  "Tell me, Reilly... what do we hope to learn?"

  "Ultimately, our goal is and has always been to find your daughters, Allen."

  "And we'll accomplish that by putting a tail on my wife?"

  "She may or may not have information pertaining to your daughters' disappearance, Allen. It's a long shot, granted."

  "Hell, do it, Reilly. Keep following the bitch. But do me a favor."

  "You're the one paying for the biscuits, Allen."

  "Let me know what you find out first."

  Chapter 47—Going to Compton

  (A Thousand Kisses Deep)

  "Do we really want to risk it, Danners?"

  "We need to shake things up, Liza. Let's use Reilly to get to Paula Picany. She's pretty much closed herself off to us. And to Allen, from the way he tells it."

  "Yeah... but I'm not sure I like involving Hank that way, Danners."

  "Hank's already involved himself, Liza. You know that."

  "I know his wife Sally."

  "But you aren’t his wife, Liza. Let's see what happens after Reilly talks to Picany. We've finally gotten some air under us but we're in danger of stalling out. If we don’t get out of this malaise, we'll crash and burn and no one will get what they want."

  "What do we want?"

  "We've been hired to find those twins, Liza."

  "You know what I mean. Don't play stupid with me, Danners. I know you too well."

  Christ, there it was. Finally. The ultimatum. The thing she'd wanted to say to Danners for months now... years, even. She hated putting the man on the spot like that but hell... neither of them were getting any younger. If this partnership was going to grow, they'd have to take a chance at...

  What? Love? Is that what she wanted? If so, she could have it with any one of a hundred fully heterosexual males she came into contact with each day including Hank Lupo. The man nearly drooled each time they were together. What was this fascination with a sixty something year old faggot who'd never met a woman he didn’t loathe, at least sexually? Did Danners even suspect her latent feelings for him? Probably not. The man wasn’t attuned to such novelties.

  "I'm not sure what you're asking me, Liza."

  "Forget it, Danners. I'm just in one of my moods. Take me down to Compton later?"

  "I really hate going down there, Liza. That place reminds me too much of Detroit."

  "But you'll do it."

  "I'll do anything for you, sweetie. You know that."

  Will you marry me, Danners? Will you allow me to have your babies? Let's make one right now. I'll quit using and you'll start. I'll be your drug of choice. You'll never be able to get enough of me and you know it. I see the way you look at me. I'm a woman. I feel it when a man wants me. I've been trained to do so from an early age.

  It'd been Danners' idea to send Reilly Cooper to talk to Allen Picany... to fill the man in on Paula's nocturnal activities with Hank Lupo. Yes, it was a
calculated risk, he said. Picany might well go berserk, shoot both his wife and her lover, and then turn the gun on himself. But probably not. Paula Picany had a long history of affairs going back to right after the twins' disappearance. Allen had doubtlessly made peace with her proclivities.

  Why not try shaking the tree a little? Perhaps some fruit might fall... especially something ripe and ready. That's what they'd been hired to do. Dammit. What was she doing by laying a guilt trip on Danners? He had to be as frightened by rejection as she was. What if she made a move on the man and he turned her down outright? What if he laughed at her? Could she stand it?

  What had he said? The twins were alive. If so, why hadn’t anyone seen either of them for the past twenty years? Oh, but there'd been sightings all along to hear Hank tell it. None of them panned out. But then again people were still reporting seeing Elvis Presley and Jim Morrison too. But just how much police work actually went into tracking those sightings? Liza knew the system. After so long, doubts crept in. It wasn’t that the officers didn’t care... they did. They cared too much. They became inured to disappointment and frustration. Perhaps they even relished it.

  What made her think she could crack the case when everyone else tried and failed? And now here they were turning the dogs loose to tear the truth from whatever reality it'd been hiding in for the last two decades. Of course ordinary policemen couldn’t do those types of things. They'd taken oaths. That was their advantage, her and Danners... that and his gift or curse or whatever you'd want to call it.

  She had something on all of them. She'd been part of the masterpiece. They hadn’t. None of them. Sure, Danners could see things. But could he go a thousand kisses deep? Would he consent to be wrecked? No. That was her gift to keep. I love you, Lissi. Sometimes when the night is slow...