Scottsdale Squeeze: a romantic light-hearted murder mystery (Laura Black Mysteries Book 2)

by B A Trimmer

  I needed Jackie to be found, quickly. I called up my shyster friend Lenny Shapiro. I knew he had people who could find her and get her back without involving the police. I didn’t think it would be hard to track her down since she always uses credit cards for everything. I didn’t think she’d be smart enough to live off of cash for a week.”

  “If I hadn’t talked to her friends,” I said, “it would have been impossible for anyone to find her until she decided to come back.”

  “Well, I heard you had found her in Mexico and she’d come back into Arizona. Carlos was again able to track Jackie’s car, first to her house, and then to her friend Pam’s house. They then kidnapped Jackie when you dropped her off at Pam’s on Friday afternoon.”

  Howard hung his head and spoke in almost a whisper, “I believe after Carlos gets what he wants from Jackie, he’ll probably kill her. I’m sure I’m on that list too. I know too much.”

  He stopped and drained the rest of his beer.

  “There it is. I’ve been hiding up here since right after the kidnapping. I thought I’d be pretty safe up here. I didn’t think anyone knew about this place. Plus, I figured even if someone remembered my family once had a cabin in the woods, I didn’t think anyone would actually be able to find it. You must be pretty good to track me down in only three days.”

  “You’ve got to go down to Scottsdale and tell the detectives what you know,” I said. “They’re not even convinced this is a real kidnapping. They think Jackie murdered her husband and then ran. We are going to need the police’s help if we want to get her back.”

  “I know,” he said. “But when I do, I’ll become a sitting duck for Carlos and his men. I’m sure they’re already looking for me. If the police arrest me, there’s no way they can protect me in jail. Carlos’s boss is the leader of the Black Death and he has a strong relationship with the Mexican prison gangs.”

  Howard sighed and drained the rest of his beer.

  “Anyway, I’ll go down and talk to the police. But the reason I’ll do it is because Jackie was always nice to me. Besides, it’s partially because of me her husband is dead and she was kidnapped. I screwed up big time but maybe this way I can get back some of my honor. Maybe it isn’t so important anymore, but it is to me.

  “It’s too late to drive down to Scottsdale tonight,” I said. “I’ll make some phone calls and we’ll go down first thing in the morning.”

  ~~~~

  My first call was to Lenny to let him know what I’d found out.

  “OK, that’s good,” he said after I gave him the summary. “Get Howard down to the district station as soon as you can, before he changes his mind. Make sure he is open and candid with the detectives. With his statement, the DA will be less likely to charge anyone with obstruction when Jackie doesn’t show up for her interview tomorrow.”

  “And then maybe the police will work harder to find Jackie and get her back?” I asked.

  “Yeah, that too. We need to get our client back.”

  I then called Reno to have him let everyone in the department know what was going on.

  “Reno, I’ve found Howard Spencer.”

  “What? How did you find Howard Spencer?”

  “Long story. Call the lead detective and let him know Howard is coming into the Foothills district station first thing in the morning to make a statement. Jackie didn’t murder her husband, it was a Mexican national named Carlos, AKA Carlos the Butcher.”

  “What? How do you know Carlos the Butcher killed Roger Wade?”

  “Like I said, it’s a long story. I also know for sure Jackie was kidnapped and is being held by Carlos.”

  “What? How do you know Jackie was kidnapped by Carlos?”

  “Are you going to question everything I say or are you going to get things moving?”

  “Fine, I don’t know how you always end up in the middle of these things. I sometimes wonder why Scottsdale even has a police department since you’re out there doing everything for them.”

  “Hey, it’s not my fault. I’m just doing my job.”

  “Alright, I know. But speaking of jobs, when are we going to get together? You still owe me big time and I’m starting to throb.”

  “Soon.”

  “You always say soon. I’ve had the entire weekend off and you’ve spent the entire time working.”

  “I know, it’s been kinda busy. Maybe I should have come over and taken care of you this morning rather than us going out to breakfast.”

  “Really? That was an option? Sure, now you tell me.”

  “I’ll make up for it. I promise.”

  “When?”

  “Soon.”

  ~~~~

  We all woke up early and I made everyone a quick breakfast from the things Howard had brought up to the cabin. Fortunately, he had brought up coffee and I found a working coffee pot. It was one of the old percolator types. It was slow, but it worked well enough. When I drank the boiled coffee, I got a flashback to my grandparent’s house in Phoenix and the way their coffee tasted when they let me sip it as a kid.

  Terry agreed to ride down with his dad to the police station in Scottsdale and also to be there when Howard gave his statement. I said I would follow behind them and help out if I could.

  We arrived at the district police station about nine-thirty. Howard, Terry, and I were each interviewed by a separate detective for about an hour. We were then asked to wait while the detectives met to discuss what they had heard. Our stories must have matched up OK, because Terry and I were told we were free to leave. They wanted to interview Howard again to see what else they could learn, but the detective in charge thought he would probably be done later in the afternoon. Terry said he’d come back and pick up his dad.

  ~~~~

  I drove back to the office. Sophie finished running all the quick checks on Carlos the Butcher. As expected, all that came back was a grainy photograph and a single paragraph saying Carlos, also known as Carlos the Butcher, was a prominent leader in the Muerte Negra, or Black Death syndicate. They listed his last name as unknown, his age as unknown, his residence as unknown, his birthplace as unknown, his relations as unknown, his education as unknown, and the only known associate of Carlos was the head of the Muerte Negra, a vicious looking man named Escobar Salazar.

  “This isn’t what we need,” I said. “Can we use the magic software on him?”

  “Well, OK. But it’s starting to give me the creeps whenever I use it. I keep expecting the men-in-black to bust through the door whenever I run it. You know, I sometimes want to type my own name into it, just to see what the government knows about my family and me. So far, I haven’t gotten up the nerve.”

  “I don’t blame you,” I said. “It would make me sick to find out a close relative was a wanted felon. On the bright side, maybe a relative is actually a rich criminal mastermind and you could hit them up for a loan.”

  “So far I’ve been OK with not knowing. If times get tough, maybe I’ll change my mind.”

  My cell phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and it was a call from a phone with a Phoenix area code. I wasn’t expecting a call and I didn’t recognize the number. My heart sped up as hope sprang into my chest. Could this be Jackie? Maybe she had escaped. I answered and tried to ask three questions at once.

  “Jackie is that you? Where are you? Are you alright?”

  “No,” a man’s voice slowly answered back. With one word, I got a horrible feeling in my stomach and I felt like I was going to throw up. I told myself to breathe and tried to keep myself together.

  “Who is this?” I asked. I had a bad feeling I already knew the answer.

  “You may call me Carlos.” He spoke slowly and distinctly with a heavy Spanish accent.

  “Where’s Jackie. I need to speak with her.”

  “Jackie is with me. She is safe, for the moment.”

  “I need to talk with her.”

  Suddenly the voice on the phone became livid.

  “What you need to do
is shut up!” the man screamed. “If you ever want to see your friend alive again you will do exactly as I say! Tell me you understand!”

  His fury was so strong I could envision his face turning red and his body shaking with anger.

  “OK, OK, I understand,” I said, trying to calm him down.

  There was a pause for almost thirty seconds. I heard him breathing hard and trying to calm himself.

  “First of all,” the voice said, now in a more normal tone. “If you go to the police, your friend will die. Even if you do everything else I tell you to do. If there is even the hint of police involvement, I will kill her first and look for explanations later. Tell me. Do you know I’m telling the truth on this?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I know you’re telling the truth.”

  “She says you are clever. So by now, you must be fully aware who I am and what I am looking for. I want a paper Jackie has signed. You know the one I mean, yes?”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “Ah, so you are clever. That is good. Now listen carefully. She lied when she told Howard’s son she kept her papers in her bedroom. She had only the unimportant ones there. The paper I need is located in a safety deposit box at her bank. The key to the box is still at her house. The house has a police guard on it. I need you to get the key from her house. I need you to go to the bank and get the paper. Then I need you to bring the paper to me. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” I said. I was trembling all over. “But, where is the key? You searched the entire house.”

  “Yes!” he started screaming again. “But we were not looking for a key! We were told the paper was in the house! We walked right past the key, many times!”

  There was another pause and I could hear him breathing heavily and again trying to compose himself.

  “The key is in plain sight in the kitchen,” he finally said, with the normal tone. “There is a wall hanging with many keys on it. The key you need has a Scottsdale National Trust Bank key ring on it. The key ring is blue and you will know it’s the right key because it looks unusual. You will need to sign papers at the bank to get to the safety deposit box and the signatures must match exactly. You are a clever girl so I know you can do it, no?”

  “I can do it. When I get the paper, where do you want me to take it?”

  “I have people watching the bank. I will call you when I know you have it.”

  The phone went dead, but I spent almost a minute with it still held up to me ear. I needed more information and my mind was desperately thinking what to do.

  My first thought was to call Reno and ask for advice. He would know police procedure and the best way to get the key without a fuss. But Reno wouldn’t let it stop there. He would need to know why I needed it. He would also want to make it official business and we’d have yet another argument about letting the police do the police business. But I had heard Carlos’ voice. Carlos the Butcher. I knew that if I screwed this up Jackie would be hurt or killed and it would be my fault.

  I made a decision and called Gina.

  “Hey, I need your help.” I then downloaded her on my conversation with Carlos.

  “This is the part of the job I always have a problem with,” she said. “We’re obligated to go to the police with anything like this. They are better equipped to handle this type of situation and legally it’s the only thing to do. On the other hand, morally, our first duty is to our client. I don’t doubt what Carlos says, and at the first sign of a cop anywhere near where he is holding Jackie, I believe that he will kill her.”

  “What I can’t understand is why there is a police guard on the house,” I said. “Getting into a crime scene has never been a problem before.”

  “New procedure,” Gina said. “Anytime there’s a major crime at a home of someone who is considered a celebrity, it’s guarded. Otherwise, people break in and steal souvenirs to sell on eBay.”

  “OK, so how are we going to do it?”

  Gina thought for a moment.

  “As an investigator for the law firm representing Jackie, you could make a case for entering the murder scene. Homicide and forensics have already gone through the house and so they probably won’t object. Chances are there is only one officer on the scene and he’ll regard it as a low value assignment. If two people go in the house, I imagine that you could distract the officer and pilfer anything that you wanted.”

  “OK, that could work. I’ll get Sophie to help.”

  “Yes, but it’s only step one.”

  “OK, what’s step two?”

  “You need to get into the safety deposit box.”

  “I’ll have the key.”

  “Yes, but you also need to sign to get it. If the signatures don’t match, they won’t let you have it or it will raise a red flag at the very least.”

  “OK, I’ll work on that. Is there a step three?”

  “Step three will be finding out where Jackie is. You said Carlos would call you back. He’ll probably use the same phone again. It’s likely he’ll be somewhere close by Jackie when he does. Let’s set it up with the cell carrier to get a location on the phone when he calls back. Maybe they can even give us a general idea where the first call was made from. It will give us a starting point on where to look. You work on getting the key and going to the bank. I’ll make the calls and set up the location trace with the cell phone company. When he calls back, we’ll have an address.”

  I walked back up to reception and collapsed into one of the red leather wing chairs next to Sophie’s desk.

  “What happened? She asked. “I hate to tell you, but you sorta look like shit again.”

  “I’m going to need some help,” I said. I then told her about my conversation with Carlos and with Gina.

  “Damn,” she said. “Why do the crazy ones always call you? Oh well, what can I do to help?”

  “My first step is to get the key. Gina is right, the police probably won’t object if we say we just need to take some pictures of the murder scene.”

  “I’ll grab the camera,” she said. “And since we’re trying to distract the cop guarding the house, let me take my car separately I’ll stop by my apartment first. I’ll put on something that will help distract him.”

  Sophie took off in her car and I took off in mine. My first phone call was to the lead detective in charge of the murder investigation. We had chatted a few hours earlier and he had given me his card. He still wasn’t happy I had shed doubt on his lead suspect, but I could tell his mind was occupied elsewhere. He was probably thinking about Carlos the Butcher and what it could mean to his murder investigation. Going after a pretty Scottsdale cougar was one thing. Going after an international drug smuggler and known killer was something completely different.

  After talking for about five minutes, he gave permission for me to enter the scene and take pictures, with the understanding I would be escorted by the officer, and I wouldn’t touch anything. I mentally crossed my fingers when I said I wouldn’t. He then said he would radio the officer on scene and give permission for me to enter.

  My next call was to Pam. I said I had to go to Jackie’s bank and get some things from her safety deposit box. I asked her if anyone in the group knew what her signature looked like.

  “Oh, sure,” she said. “I can do Jackie’s signature. We sign each other’s credit card receipts all the time. “But you know they need more than a signature. I have a box at the same bank and they also compare photos.”

  Photos? Shit.

  My heart sank.

  “Damn, how were we going to get the papers now?”

  “I think I know a way,” Pam said. “I have an old wig I can wear. The color is close to Jackie’s. The length is too short, but it should be close enough. Jackie and I both wear the same size so it should work.”

  “Are you sure you want to go into a bank and impersonate Jackie? I’m not sure doing this is exactly legal.”

  “Do you think it will help get her back?”

  “I can’t make any
promises, but it might.”

  “Then, of course. Why are you even asking? I’d do anything for her.”

  “OK, perfect. I’ll give you a call before I come over, but it shouldn’t be too long.”

  ELEVEN

  I pulled up in front of Jackie’s house and parked behind the patrol car parked directly in front of the driveway. I got out and told the officer who I was. Fortunately, the detective had already called and I was expected.

  About five minutes later Sophie pulled in behind my car. She got out holding the big digital camera from the office. She hadn’t been kidding about dressing to distract. She had put on a low-cut red knit top and a wonder-bra where her boobs were all but falling out. As she walked up to the officer, I saw he had taken notice and was indeed being distracted.

  The officer had us both put on a pair of blue plastic booties then led us through the garage and into the kitchen. I saw the rack with the keys hanging on the wall, just as Carlos had said.

  “Why don’t you two go up and take the pictures,” I said. “We all don’t need to go up and there’ll be less chance of disturbing the scene.”

  The officer took another look at Sophie’s distractions and eagerly agreed. They disappeared into the living room and I heard them climb the stairs. I went to the rack and found he key. It was as Carlos had said. It was an unusual round shafted key on a blue Scottsdale National Trust Bank key ring. I took the key off the rack and slipped it into my pocket.

  In less than ten minutes, Sophie and the officer came back into the kitchen. They were chatting like old friends. Sophie thanked the officer and he said it was his pleasure. He then pulled out a card and handed it to her. She dug one of hers out of her purse and handed it to him. Sophie extracted a promise for the officer, whose name turned out to be Michael, to call her. He promised he would.

  As we got to our cars, I started laughing.

  “You were supposed to distract him, not set up a date with him.”

  “Well, why not. He’s cute, actually single, and besides you’re dating a cop. I was thinking maybe I should start dating one too.”