CHAPTER SEVEN
Business was terrible, Bud thought depressed. And if the heat continued, which inevitably it must in July and August, it would get even worse. Sales had been so slow that several of his girls, always unstable employees in good times, had failed to show up, leaving many usually lucrative corners uncovered. Hitchhikers tended to avoid Phoenix in the summer and recruitment of new flower girls was problematic this time of year. His stable from the spring normally stayed on, or enough did anyway, to carry him until fall. Bud was not a saver and any sharp decline in cash flow was always an issue.
It had now been forty-eight hours since he left Tracy on the street corner. Since then he had heard not a word from her or about her. The more he considered it, the more convinced he became that Tracy had run off.
She had lost all of her possessions the day they met and had not had the time to buy more. All she had were the clothes on her back. Admittedly she would probably have taken off with her own clothes rather than in the shorts and halter he had loaned her but then who knew? She was pretty flaky or else she never would have run away from home or gone to bed with him to begin with, he reflected.
He pulled into a self-serve and filled the van up, then balked at the price. My God, he thought, that's incredible. I used to fill up for eight bucks. Maybe it's time to jack the price of the flowers up again, he mused, then realized that with sales down for the summer that would not be a very good idea.
Back on the streets he headed for his first pick-up of the day. He hoped that her sales had been better than the previous day’s. On sudden impulse he turned down Washington and headed passed the bus terminal. No sign of Tracy but that was stupid. The bitch was long gone. If she was the girl they found in the desert there would have been some word over the radio and there had been none.
He saw the young girl on the corner with that lost look and pale complexion new arrivals always possessed. She was flat chest and skinny and clean looking. Two black dudes were approaching her from foot the opposite direction so Bud sped up to reach her first.
"Need a lift," he called out, smiling his most becoming smile.
"Uh, no thanks," she called back turning away towards the black dudes who were nearly to her.
"Come on, get in," he called loud enough for her to hear. She looked up and saw the men approaching, one smiling and making straight at her with some street hustle. Come on cunt, Bud thought, get in the friggin’ van before they take you in tow.
"O.K." she mumbled and jumped in the van. Bud pulled off smartly almost before the door was closed. One of the brothers shouted at the girl and grinned. He and his partner cracked up exchanging complicated hand slaps.
Bud went into his usual routine and overcame her initial resistance. Later he bought the new girl a coke and cheeseburger. He ate with her because his excuse for stopping and keeping her with him a while had been hunger even though he had already eaten. I better watch myself, he thought, got to stay lean and mean.
Bud always tried to buy his new girls food because experience had taught him that it ingratiated them to him. This one was a little younger than most he picked up, about fifteen he estimated, but he told himself he was desperate, shorthanded and all in the summer. Besides, younger ones were easier to control.
Those were the reasons he gave himself but they were not the truth. In fact Tracy had whetted his appetite for younger girls, perhaps even another virgin. He was getting greedy not for money, a greed he had always possessed, but a new one for young tender flesh, the innocent and untouched. He had reached an age where he needed them; his own personal fountain of youth. Bud did not know it yet but this was the day he stopped being young.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sergeant Steven Bustamante had been Graff’s supervisor for just six months, having inherited him from the sergeant who had first brought the aging cop into homicide. Sergeant Bustamante didn't like Graff and for that reason was inclined to give him the benefit of a doubt. He considered the detective to be a racist, inept, lazy, belligerent and arrogant. The situation had already been taken to the lieutenant who had bucked it to the captain who in turn informed the lieutenant that it was his decision just so he kept it within the limits of departmental procedure.
The lieutenant, taking a lesson from his senior had just the day before informed Bustamante that he was to devise an acceptable solution and present it to him for approval before implementation. Sergeant Bustamante thought he had the answer. It was now just a matter of presenting it to the lieutenant and then waiting for the proper timing.
"Lawrence, when you have a minute I'd like to talk to you," he called to the detective.
"Sure thing Steve. I'll be right in." Graff had long since given up worrying when his superior called him in for a conference. He was not up for any promotions having given up such ambitions when he divorced the first time and he was at the top of his possible pay scale, so nothing that transpired could affect him in the pocket book and at this stage in his career that remained his sole professional concern. Graff swaggered into Bustamante’s office, closing the door behind him as he did.
"There's no need for that Lawrence. I just want an update on the status of your active cases."
"Well, things are kinda slow right now for a summer, I mean. I got that Mexican shooting outside the bar on east Buckeye but we picked up his buddy in Tempe the next morning at the body shop. I don't see nothing left to do on it. The County Attorney got the indictment and seems happy with the Departmental Report as it stands.
"Then I got that child abuse thing but Child Protective Services did most of the leg work on it. All I been doin' is reinterviewing everybody for the D.R. and gettin' it ready for the prosecutor. I should have that wrapped up by the end of the week."
"What about the girl? The one found out in the desert all cut up. Anything on her yet?"
"Naw, and there won't be unless some stupid jerk gets an attack of the guilts or somebody snitches. The guy just picked her up somewhere, raped her and chopped her up. I checked all the missing persons and runaways locally and came up with nothing, nobody even close. Nobody's called in on it. The girl had a filling or two but without knowin' which charts to check they don't do any good. No witnesses and no physical evidence. I'm goin' through the motions but my guess is it'll just end up another unsolved desert homicide."
Sergeant Bustamante knew Graff was probably right. Without a break the case would remain unsolved, one of a dozen slayings that would end up the same way that year. Often without a break there wasn't enough to solve them. Well, it wasn't a high profile case. The paper had not run another article on it since the first and no one had come forward to press for a successful conclusion. Graff was probably right.
"O.K., well get all three of them wrapped up. I've got a special assignment for you coming up the end of next week I want you free to handle. If you have any loose ends on any of your cases turn the files over to me and I'll farm it out to someone." The sergeant gave no indication as to what the special assignment might be.
"What's up, Steve?" Graff asked.
"Nothing big Lawrence but I need to run it past the lieutenant before going any further. I just want you ready by the end of the week." With that the interview ended.
Detective Graff wondered what the change was to be and could not imagine. Sergeant Bustamante leaned back in his chair smiling slightly, mildly relieved. Lawrence, he thought, is not going to enjoy
processing bicycle theft reports. If I have my way that son of a bitch will never leave this department again in an official capacity.
~
Tony Espinoza had no idea how it had happened to him – so bad, so fast. Killian had been around a few days before talking. Tony had been clean then, determined to stay straight and if anything had been amused at the detective's interest. He figured that he may as well be amused because there wasn't one damn thing he could do to get Killian off his back.
Maria was busting her ass working as a practical nurse leaving Tony home d
ay after day with her three kids. That had been O.K. At first but after a week or two it got to be a drag.
It had all come undone Saturday night, two days before, the day following Killian's visit. Chado, an old street friend, had come by with a fine looking honey of his asking if Tony wanted to go out for a bit. Tony hadn't been with a woman in four weeks and had been so hard up he was thinking about a hooker when Chado came by in his three year old electric-blue low rider.
Esperanza had been a sweet one alright. Tony figured she was maybe nineteen and only just a little plump, the way he like ‘em. When Chado and he went in for some beer he had asked what the story was with her and Chado had made it clear that she was just an easy piece he screwed around with. Tony was welcome to all he could get out of her.
After that Tony had laid it on thick and she had gone for it. Once they finished the first six pack he had his left arm around her, his hand cupping her soft breast. He had caught Chado’s eye when she was digging in her purse for something and the two of them just grinned.
They picked up her older sister when she got off work at a hamburger stand and the four of them cruised back and forth throughout south Phoenix, honking at old faces Tony hadn't seen in months and just generally fucking around. By mutual agreement Tony was paired off with Esperanza, though Chado had made it clear when they went in for more beer that her sister, Rosalina, was available to him to if he could talk her into it. Rosalina was a better looking version of her younger sister, full breasted and obvious.
Chado didn't give a shit about her. Easy going, the women meant nothing to him. He had never had any trouble getting them and anyway his old lady was the best lay he'd ever had. That night was just for the hell of it.
The four of them ended up in a drive-in against the foothills of the South Mountains which bordered Phoenix, watching some stupid Spanish movie imported from Mexico but it had lots of naked women running around in it and Tony got really worked up. During the intermission he talked Rosalina and Chado into going for a walk. The moment they left he pulled the willing Esperanza's loose skirt up to her hips, slipped her out of her wet panties and fucked her. He lasted about one minute before losing all control and lunging deeply into her, draining himself like he hadn't since high school days before he started using heroin.
"Hey!" she exclaimed, "not so fast. Give me a chance." Tony tried to move a little but it was no use. Breathing heavily he sat back up. "Shit! What about me? You big studs are all alike," she said with disgust.
"Hey, I'm good for more than one tonight. I'll make it all up to you later."
Esperanza was placated somewhat but remained temperamental. "Sure you will."
"Just give me a chance," Tony cooed, stroking her breast. "You'll see." She didn't say yes but she didn't say no either. He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, passing it to her as he had seen in the movies.
"Shit, I feel so good we outta get your sister to join in. Man I can take care of the two of you, no problem."
Esperanza eyed him skeptically. "You're really a dreamer, ain't you?"
~
About twelve-thirty, half way through the second feature Chado wanted to split and everyone agreed. They’d run out of beer. Esperanza had decided to forgive Tony and laid her hand on his crotch at every opportunity.
The four of them cruised after a third stop for brew. Tony was thoroughly ripped by then when Esperanza suggested they score some grass. Everyone thought that a great suggestion until the men realized they were broke. They didn't admit it in front of the women but from the looks they exchanged each knew it to be true. Chado said he needed to see a man and maybe the guy would have a lid or two for them.
He parked the car under a top heavy tree in the darkness of a residential neighborhood and motioned for Tony to accompany him. Tony made it out of the car with some difficulty and followed his friend unsteadily around the corner and then up an alley.
"Hey man, where the fuck does this friend of yours live?" he whispered loudly intimidated by the late hour and darkness.
"Shut up. I'll find the guy I want in a minute." True to his word he nodded in satisfaction at a tall fence and telling Tony to wait because he was “too fucked up”, climbed alone over the fence. Tony heard the sharp sound of breaking glass shortly thereafter but remained where he was. He had finally figured out what was coming down.
Chado whispered through the fence for Tony and then handed a television set over. A minute later he came back with a stereo receiver.
"Shit man, what you gonna tell the women? Your friend gave you all his shit?" Tony demanded in disgust.
"I just hate to leave it, that's all," came the reply.
"You got anything else, something small?"
"Shit yeah, I got some bread from the bedroom," Chado said.
"Well don't be stupid. Leave the shit. Let's go." Chado cleared the fence and started to reach for the television when Tony stopped him and pushed him down the alley towards the waiting car.
"Well? Did your man have it?" Rosalina asked as they climbed back in the car and drove off.
"Nah," Chado replied, "but he told me where I can get it."
A few minutes later they pulled up in front of a dilapidated wood framed house. Tony stayed put while Chado went in to score. Fifteen minutes later the four of them were at Rosalina's house toking and listening to loud music.
Esperanza was the first to disappear while Chado was out of the living room. Tony was pretty well gone by then but had enough composure to move in on Rosalina while they were alone. He had never had two sisters in one night and considered a challenge within reach.
Chado came back with Esperanza and immediately Tony knew what was happening. The two of them had just shot up. Tony sobered at once and started to sweat.
"What else you get from that friend?" he heard himself ask.
"Hey man. I got good, first class, high grade shit," Chado replied, Esperanza nodding her head.
Tony licked his lips.
"You want some, man?" Chado said. "I would have said something sooner but I thought you was staying clean."
Rosalina moved anxiously moved anxiously under Tony's limp arm. "How can you guys do that? I mean put it in your arm and all. Jeeze, it makes me sick to think about it."
Tony was immobile, his mind racing but thinking nothing.
"I'm glad you don't do that stuff, Tony," Rosalina continued almost to herself. Chado and Esperanza were off in their own world already apart and away from everyone else.
Tony said nothing.
Rosalina squirmed and slid her hand inside his pants. "It looks like they're going to be doing their thing for a while. Why don't we go into my room? I got a stereo there and we could take the grass and have a little party." She tugged at his arm standing up, already heading for the bedroom, her ripe body his for the taking.
"Later baby," he said crossing over to Chado. "Hey man, where you put the shit?"
~
Killian worked vice almost for the hell of it the following Monday, five days after talking to Espinoza. Detective Paul Hudson had gone to the academy with Killian and had worked vice for the last two years. Killian ran into him at lunch and as a lark went out to east Van Buren with him.
The department’s efforts at prostitution enforcement were intended to reduce visibility and rid the hookers of the robbers among them. Otherwise business flourished.
Hudson and Killian drove about rapping with various street urchins and assessing the more serious street traffic. Nothing requiring police attention was going down so Killian concentrated on street talk.
Two years before he had busted Bennie for sales of heroin. Bennie had done twenty-one months of a four year sentence and was currently out on parole. To his misfortune the two detectives discovered him in association with another parolee and a convicted hooker, two violations of his parole. Killian pulled Bennie over to the side and under threat of the cop calling the excon's parole officer the scared, bird-like man spilt his guts.
Mo
st of what he had said was useless. Only one bit of information had immediately interested Killian. It concerned a sale the man had witnessed the previous Saturday and who had bought the heroin. Bennie said he had looked out the window after the sale and had seen Chado drive off with two women and another man he knew from the streets – Tony.
Killian thought it over and early the next day placed Espinoza's house under surveillance. He decided to invest an hour or two and see what showed up. At eleven Chado arrived and was joined by Espinoza. The two had probably been regular companions since the score last Saturday, Killian thought. He didn't bother to follow them.
It took two days to arrange the operation. Killian wanted to do it right.
He managed to get the manpower and resources assigned to Espinoza for four hours. Now that Espinoza was back into the life it should be enough time. Junkies lived a very hand to mouth existence rarely more than one day ahead of the next fix, if that. Each day was solely concerned with scoring, shooting and hustling.
The Flower Girl Page 5
