“Not good at all,” Ribs said, and got in the car. He waited for Cruz to get in, and then said, “Carlos was the one who had Tony killed, and he tried killing Tip’s partner Connie.”
“No shit?”
“No shit,” Ribs said, and then he started the car. At the first break in traffic, he pulled onto Westheimer, then took a left and went down to Richmond and then took another left onto Fondren. A couple of hundred feet farther, he turned into an almost-vacant strip mall and parked in the back, where a guy was selling tacos and burritos from a trailer. Rolando had been operating there and at a few other places for the past couple of years.
“You hungry?” Cruz asked.
“Not me,” Ribs said. “And I don’t recommend eating here.”
“Then why are we stopping?”
“I see you’re not up on the street scene, partner. Rolando, known as ‘Ro’ to his friends, always has information.”
“For a price, I presume?”
“A price. Or the right kind of threat.”
Ribs and Cruz got out of the car and walked toward the trailer. Rolando poked his head out the window. “Hector, it’s good to see you.”
“How’s it going, Ro?”
“If I could sell more tacos, I’d be happy.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” Ribs said, “But we’re not hungry, and besides, I don’t eat goats.”
“That’s all right, I’m almost out of tacos anyway. What else can I sell you?”
“You can tell me what you know about who’s moving a shitload of ice in town. And while you’re at it, throw in some information on the fake inspection stickers.”
Rolando looked at Cruz, and then back to Ribs. “Ice? That’s dangerous shit, amigo. I might have to hide for a while if I told you about that. And hiding takes money.”
Ribs laughed and slapped the side of the trailer with his palm. “Ro, you’re a funny guy. But I know about hiding. For example, I’d bet if I were to come inside that trailer and check the spices you have, I might find illegal substances hiding in a lot of places.”
Rolando lost his happy face. “You got a search warrant? Because if you don’t—”
“I don’t need one,” Ribs said. “Not when I can smell drugs.”
“Smell drugs? You can’t smell no drugs. Get the fuck outta here before I call a real cop.” Rolando reached below the counter.
Ribs pulled his gun and pointed it at Ro. “Stay still. It wouldn’t be good if you moved. Detective Cruz is coming inside to search the place.”
Cruz moved for the door to the trailer. He opened it and stepped inside.
“Hey partner,” Ribs said, “take a look under the counter and see what my man Ro was reaching for.”
It only took Cruz a few seconds to spot a .38 stuffed inside a half-empty box of taco shells. Cruz slipped his finger inside the trigger guard and lifted it. “Take a look at this. I think old Rolando here was planning on shooting you.”
“Okay,” Ro said. “Fuck man, can’t you take a joke?”
Ribs took hold of Ro’s shirt and pulled him closer. “I don’t joke when it comes to drugs, amigo. And I don’t ever joke when it comes to guns.”
“Got something else,” Cruz said.
Ro’s eyes opened wide. “Okay listen. Forget you found that and forget about the gun, and maybe I got something for you.”
“Found what?” Ribs said, which brought a smile to Ro’s face.
Ro poked his head out the window and looked around the parking lot. “All I know is that there’s a new player, and he’s selling ice for twenty percent of street value.”
“How much is he moving?” Cruz asked.
“As much as you want. And he’s cutting the dealers in for seventy-five percent.”
“I can’t imagine the old guard is taking this lying down,” Ribs said.
Ro shook his head. “They fought back at first, but after a few of them disappeared, the others fell in line. This new guy’s got protection.”
Cruz perked up. “What kind of protection?”
“The kind only you can offer,” Ro said. “Midnight blue protection.”
“You’re saying that cops are giving this meth dealer free rein?”
Ro nodded. “That’s what I hear.”
“Do you know a guy named Martin, or Martinez?” Ribs asked. “He was selling ice and stickers both.”
“I used to know him, but I heard he lost his sight.”
“You hear a lot from way down here in this pissy trailer,” Ribs said.
Ro shrugged.
“Who did Martin piss off?”
“From what I hear, he got the idea to sell the ice for more than the twenty percent. He got greedy.”
“What about the stickers?” Cruz asked.
Ro shook his head. “I don’t know nothin’ about stickers. I already told you that.”
“Who did the job on Martin?” Ribs asked.
“I don’t know.”
Ribs grabbed his shirt again.
“Do what you want, but I still don’t know.”
“All right, Ro. But you better call when you hear something. Don’t make me come back here.” Ribs handed him a card before leaving.
“You just make sure you forget you were here,” Ro said. “I don’t want to end up like Martin.”
They went back to the car, and Ribs pulled out of the lot and onto Fondren, heading north. “What do you think?”
Cruz shook his head. “It’s hard to say, but if you pressed me, I’d say the guy was telling the truth.”
“Or at least the truth as he knows it,” Ribs said. “And how about that cop shit he spit out?”
“I don’t like thinking about it, but let’s face it—if somebody’s moving that much ice and we haven’t heard about it, they’ve got protection. And remember what Tip told us about Bobby Stenson?”
“It fits,” Ribs said. “Goddamnit, it fits.”
As he turned left onto Westheimer his phone rang. It was Rosalee. “I’m sorry, Rosalee,” he said, answering it. “I can’t come home to make love to you.”
“I think I’m being followed,” Rosalee said. There was panic in her voice.
Chapter 27
A Few More Bodies
Tip and I were at our desks when Julie came by. “Was somebody looking for Andrea Marsh?”
“If Andrea Marsh is Tiffany, then yes, we’re looking for her.” Tip leaned toward Julie. “Do you have two purple stripes in your hair now?”
“I’m trying to decide which side I like it better on. What do you think?”
Tip shook his head. “I don’t think you want to know what I think. But let’s get back to this Marsh lady.”
“Back in the decade that mattered, they would have called Andrea Marsh a free spirit. I believe you tagged her as a prostitute.”
I sat up straight. “You found Tiffany?”
Julie smiled. “Print match just came in. But don’t get too excited. She’s dead.”
“Dead?” Tip reached for the report Julie had in her hand. “What happened?”
“She was found in a trucker’s cab north of Victoria. She and the trucker were both shot in the head. She was naked. He had his pants down.”
“Shot in the head as in murdered?” I asked.
“The initial report lists it as possibly a murder/suicide,” Julie said.
“Bullshit,” Tip said. “Plain bullshit.”
“Where’s Victoria?” I asked.
“It’s a few hours south of here,” Julie said. “Down 59 toward Corpus Christi.”
“What the hell was she doing down there?” I said.
“And with a trucker,” Tip said. “A trucker isn’t exactly the kind of client she’s been with lately.”
“The trucker was from Houston. Maybe there’s a connection,” Julie said.
“Did I hear you say you got more bodies?” That came from Herb, who had stopped by with an armful of folders. “By the way, Julie, these are for you. Coop’s got a note as to what she wants done.”
>
Just what Julie needs, I thought. More work. “We don’t have the bodies, Herb.” I said, “but at least one of them ties to our case—the prostitute we’ve been looking for.”
“So you found Tiffany?” Charlie asked as he walked up with a cup of steaming coffee. “Fresh pot made, if anyone’s interested.”
I started to get up, but Julie stopped me. “I’ll get it, Connie.”
“Thanks, Jules.”
“How about you, Tip? Want some coffee?”
“I think I will, darlin’. Thanks.” Tip turned to Charlie. “This happened close to El Campo. Why don’t you call down there and see if Buck Murdock is still sheriff? If he is, get me his phone number.”
“I’ll get it done,” Charlie said, and headed off.
I wrote Buck Murdock’s name in my notepad for reference and then looked over to Tip. “Are we going down there?”
“I don’t think we need to go down, but I’d like to get the skinny from Buck. He’s pretty sharp.”
“Good. In the meantime, let’s see what we can find out about the guy who was in the truck with her.” Julie was just returning with coffee. “Jules, if you can, see what you can do on that.”
“I’m all over it,” she said.
“And don’t forget about Tiffany, or Andrea. Now that we know who she is, maybe we’ll get something.”
“I’ll find out what I can,” Julie said.
I took a big sip of coffee. I hated to admit it, but my blood raced when we got a lead, even if the lead was dead bodies. I downed the rest of the cup and headed out for more. I passed Charlie in the hall, and he gave me the number for the sheriff.
“Tip’s wondering what took you so long,” I said.
“Herb and I went to catch a smoke. I hate going outside, but it’s gotten to be where you can’t smoke anywhere else.”
When I returned, I gave Tip the number and he called his friend.
“Buck, it’s Tip Denton. I’m gonna put you on speaker so my partner can hear.”
“I’m guessing you’re calling about the trucker,” Buck said.
“The woman’s prints came up regarding a case we’re working. What the hell’s going on down there?”
“I know it wasn’t suicide,” Buck said. “Even though somebody tried to make it look like one.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Because I know Joel Ford. He’s been running that route from the Valley up to Houston for twenty years. He usually stops in Victoria or El Campo for breakfast, day or night. We’ve gotten to know him. He’s not the kind of man who would kill himself or anyone else, and he’s not the kind who’d be in his truck with another woman.”
Tip jotted a note on the paper in front of him. Talk to wife.
“You’re sure about that?”
“I’m sure, Tip. But there’s a lot more. I talked to Barbara Jean, the waitress at the diner in Victoria. Joel ate there just before this happened, and there wasn’t no woman with him.”
“So you’re saying he picked up this woman somewhere between Victoria and El Campo?”
“That’s what I’m saying. And as you know, there’s not a damn thing out there except a few dead armadillos.”
“Did you find any cars on the road, anything like that?”
“No, but I’ll tell you what we did find. I’ve been saving this for last. A car outside El Campo in a deserted stretch of grassland. Somebody set that car on fire and burned it up. Whoever did it poured accelerants all over it. And there was a body inside. Male.”
“How far was it from where the truck was found?”
“Not more than seven or eight miles. And here’s the best part: the car was registered to the dead girl. We found a suitcase stuffed with women’s clothes in the trunk.”
“Okay, Buck, you sold me. This has been helpful. Can I get you to send the file up here so we can take a look?”
“Be up there tomorrow. I’ll call you with anything new I get.”
“Anybody notify the wife yet?”
“Harris County did.”
“Thanks, Buck. I’ll call over there and tell them we plan on talking to the widow. And tell Jean I said hi.” Tip hung up and looked at me. “Well, there you have it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying he wasn’t with Tiffany because Buck said so?”
Tip laughed. “Hell no. It was what he said about the girl not being with him at the diner that convinced me. And of course the bit about the other car.”
“Tell me what makes you so sure,” I said.
“You’d have to know the area. Buck said he makes runs to the Valley. That’s on the border with Mexico, which means he’s driving 300 miles or so on a road with not much besides other eighteen wheelers. And you got the King Ranch in between, which is bigger than the state of Delaware. They even have a sign when you approach that says ‘Entering the King Ranch. No gas for fifty-three miles.’”
“So you’re saying there wasn’t any place to pick her up?”
“I’m saying if she wasn’t with him at the diner, there’s not a damn place between there and El Campo where he could have picked Tiffany up.”
I thought about what he said, and what we had. “Besides all that,” I said, “what was Tiffany doing that far out of Houston, and with a trucker?”
“And how did she get there?” Tip said. “And what’s that shit about her car being found seven or eight miles away, burned up, and with a body in it?”
Tip scribbled some notes on his pad. “One week ago she was with a high-priced lawyer at a fancy hotel.”
“And he ends up dead,” I said.
“A few days after that, she was with a wealthy banker.”
“And he ends up dead.”
“And now she’s with a trucker down by Victoria?” Tip said.
I nodded. “The only thing in common is that he ended up dead too.”
Tip didn’t say anything for a moment, and his eyes were all scrunched up like he did whenever he was thinking hard. “Something else is bothering me, Connie. Don’t you think it’s an awful big coincidence that Tiffany ends up dead the day after we found out about her car?”
“I was already thinking the same thing,” I said. “They knew we were onto them. That’s why they burned the car. And I’m guessing it’s why they killed Tiffany.”
Tip tapped the pencil on the desk. “Somebody planned these murders and used Tiffany to do them. I’m guessing either they’re done killing or they’re done needing her. Either way, we have to find out who was behind this.”
“If we’re going to do that much thinking, Tip, I need a few beers.”
“Maybe we should talk to the wife first.”
Chapter 28
An Awkward Conversation
We got the address for Joel Ford. He lived on the west side, near Bear Creek, about half an hour’s drive. I asked Julie to get us as much information as she could on him.
“Text it to us,” I said. “We’re going to talk to his wife.”
Dunnethead Road sat in a big neighborhood off Highway 6. Ford’s house was a small, indistinguishable ranch house in the middle of a block full of them. Tip parked on the street; we walked up to the door and knocked. A middle-aged woman answered the door. Her brown hair was peppered with gray, and she looked…worn out.
Tip showed his badge. “Ma’am, I’m Detective Tip Denton, and this is my partner, Detective Connie Gianelli.”
She nodded and opened the door wider, stepping back to let us enter. “I guess you’re here about Joel.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tip said. “We’re very sorry about your loss.”
We followed her into a small living room. Tip and I sat on the sofa; she took a seat in a chair next to us.
“I know this is a terrible time,” Tip said. “But it’s important for us to get as much information as we can.”
“I understand,” she said. “I’ve barely been able to function since they told me. I just…” She reached for a box of tissues sitting on
the table. “I still can’t believe it.”
“Did your husband make this same run all the time? Has there been anything different in the past few weeks or months?”
“Nothing different,” she said. “He’s been running the Valley route for twenty years, and he was normally home before midnight unless weather slowed him down.”
I waited for Tip to write his notes, and then I addressed her. “Mrs. Ford, can you think of anyone who would want to hurt your husband? Did he have financial troubles? Was he involved with gambling or drugs?”
She seemed surprised by the question. “Hurt Joel? Good Lord no. Who would want to hurt him?” She squinted, and her forehead wrinkled. “Why would you ask a question like that?” Anger tainted those words.
I’m sure my expression registered surprise now. I looked to Tip, but when he didn’t say anything, I answered. “Mrs. Ford, didn’t the deputy tell you? Your husband was murdered.”
She bolted up out of the chair. “Murdered! Joel?”
I got a sick, nasty feeling in my gut. I wasn’t used to dealing with grieving family members. “Mrs. Ford, I’m sorry. I thought they had told you.” I stood and held her hand. “Are you all right? Would you like me to get you something? Tea or coffee? Or a glass of water?”
“How could he be murdered? What happened?” She pulled away from me and covered her face with her hands. And she cried. “The other officer told me they found him dead in the cab of his truck, but he didn’t say anything about murder.”
Tip leaned forward and took her hand. “Mrs. Ford, I know this is going to be a shock, so you might want to sit.” He led her to the sofa, and once she got seated he said, “Ma’am, they did find your husband in the cab, but that’s not all. There was a woman with him. And—”
“A woman?” She sat straight, her back as stiff as a board. “Detective, that’s impossible. My husband would never be with another woman.”
I tapped Tip’s arm. “Do you think you can make a few cups of tea?”
He took the hint and went to the kitchen.
Mrs. Ford looked at me after he left. Tears were in her eyes. “You’re a woman. I’m sure you understand. I’ve been married to Joel for twenty-six years, ever since we were nineteen. We have…” She stopped, closed her eyes for a second, and then continued. “We had a good marriage.” She wiped her eyes and leaned forward. “I would have known if Joel was fooling around. A woman knows these things.” She shook her head. “Out of all the nonsense you told me tonight, there is one thing I’m positive of—Joel wasn’t with that woman, whoever she was.” She pointed her finger at Tip, who was just returning, and then at me. “I don’t know why somebody would kill Joel, but it wasn’t about any woman.”
Bullet From Dominic Page 15
