“Valerie, I’m leaving for the rest of the day. I’m going back out to the farmer’s market.”
“Ok, Mr. Stanton. See ya tomorrow morning.” He asked her to call him Jeff, but old habits never die.
He didn’t know what he hoped to find out at the farmer’s market since he had been out there several times since the fire. He had a feeling he was overlooking something obvious.
The drive to the farmers market only took a few minutes. He parked around back and got out of his state vehicle. He looked around the perimeter, focusing on the woods behind the warehouse, and took photos. Putting on his work boots, he entered the shell of the warehouse. Days before, his investigative team sifted through all the debris. Samples of the debris were taken and sent to the forensics lab.
He looked again at the back door where someone apparently forced entry. There were tool marks on the side of the door frame. Forensics took a mold and sent it to the lab. They would determine what type of tool was used and hopefully narrow it down if a suspect was found.
Jeff took another look around and something shiny caught his eye. He reached into his pockets and found his gloves. Reaching into a mound of debris, he pulled out a buckle. Some reflective fabric had melted onto the buckle. He was familiar with this type of buckle. It was normally found on bunker gear of firefighters. The reflective strips were on the jackets they wore. Intrigued, he went back to his truck and pulled out his tool box he carried with him at all times. He went back to the debris pile and took some pictures. Then he went to work sorting through the rubble. He got to the bottom of the pile. What he found next stunned him.
Chapter Nineteen
Santa Rosa Beach, Thursday evening
“He was too weird for words.” Rachel went to dinner with Stacy and filled her in on the details of her meeting with Paul.
La Pas was a Mexican restaurant Michelle, Rachel’s friend, had suggested they try. It was packed with tourists on a perfect, late summer night.
“Weird how?” Stacy asked.
“Well, it was nothing he said. It was more what he didn’t say. He had this nonchalant demeanor.”
The waitress brought over steaming plates of enchiladas for both of them. “Man, this looks good,” Stacy said digging into her food. “Mmm, lobster enchiladas. I think I have died and gone to heaven. Sorry, you were saying?”
“Also, the fact he has shown no interest whatsoever in helping look for Sam. Ken is supposed to be one of his closest friends and he grew up with Sam. I would be doing everything I could to help find her.”
“Yes, you’re right. That is weird.”
“He was quick to think her disappearance had something to do with revenge from the drug cartel.”
“You think he is hiding something?”
“I do. And I intend on finding out what it is.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Do some more digging. He was living with someone recently. Mary Anne Lipscomb, I think. Maybe we should start there.”
“I’m on it.” Stacy said in between huge bites of food. “Man, this is so good.”
Rachel laughed, pointing at Stacy’s almost empty plate. “I can tell. Are you going to lick the plate when you’re done?”
“I’m a little more civilized. I plan on using my finger to get the leftover sauce up.”
After dinner, they returned to the beach house and Stacy retreated to her room to work on submitting a story to the newspaper while Rachel sat outside on the deck and watched the waves roll lazily in. She loved the smell of the beach, the feel of the smooth sand on her feet, and the soothing sounds of the crashing waves. She was momentarily distracted when her cell phone buzzed. She didn’t recognize the number and picked it up. “Rachel Scott.”
“Hi Rachel. It’s Jeff Stanton. Fire Marshal’s Office.”
“Hi Jeff. What’s up?”
“Sorry to call so late. I just got back from a meeting with the police chief and thought I would give you the news before the media gets wind of it.”
“Yes?” That didn’t sound good. She was glad she was sitting down.
“We have officially ruled the warehouse fire as arson.”
“Well, I guess it shouldn’t come as a big surprise. What happened?”
“Test results came back late this afternoon. An accelerant was used, just like we thought.”
“How is the owner’s son doing?”
“He is good and was released from the hospital today.”
“He never saw anyone?”
“Nope. He walked his assistant to the door, said goodnight and returned to his office around five-thirty to do some paperwork before leaving. The fire started a little after six, we believe.”
“Any ideas on why Sam went back into the fire against protocol?”
“Well, I found something else in the rubble that was missed the first time we went through.”
“What?”
“This information hasn’t been released to the public. The chief wants to keep it under wraps,” Jeff said. “Pieces of a mannequin were found.”
“A mannequin?” Rachel asked incredulously.
“Firefighters sometimes use a mannequin in their training. For things like CPR classes and when they do search and rescue drills. We think the mannequin was clothed in a firefighter bunker suit.”
“Why would that be at the warehouse?” Rachel asked. “So Sam would think it was another firefighter in distress?”
“Could be.”
“Who would have access to a training mannequin?”
“Chief Gladstone is talking to the fire chief now. We will find out if any training equipment is missing from their department.”
“Does Mack know?”
“No. I’m sure the police will be talking to everyone again at the fire department. That’s all I got for now.”
“Ok. Thanks for the heads up.” Rachel hung up the phone. She hated she couldn’t share this bit of information with Stacy, but she didn’t want to compromise the investigation. Stacy would run with a juicy tidbit. She went inside the house to get her notebook. Whenever she was working on a case, she would keep a written journal of events that happened during the search. Rachel compared finding a missing person kin to putting together a jigsaw puzzle. She just had to make sure she had all the right pieces. She wrote in her journal -
Possibilities: X starts fire and plants a mannequin to distract Sam. X knew her routine and knew she would break from protocol to rescue someone. Who is X? Pedro Gonzalez and Richard Flores? Would the mafia go through the trouble of setting fires just to kidnap Sam? Ken Collins? He could have set it up to get Sam away from everything. Which means she had to be in on it? Sam had access to fire equipment. So did Mack and Paul.
Rachel looked over her notes and sighed. No matter which possibility was right – all she knew was she had to find Sam. She owed it to Nora and her little girls. She would search every square mile of this beach town if she had to. She needed some help getting information about the Mexican drug cartel, too. She wasn’t ready to rule them out yet. And she knew just who to call.
Chapter Twenty
Santa Rosa Beach, Friday early morning
There was a knock on the door just as Rachel was having her second cup of coffee. Stacy had already left to meet someone for breakfast and she wasn’t expecting anyone. Her heart skipped a beat when she glanced through the front door window.
“Hello, Mike Mancini.” Rachel opened the door. Mike was a former DEA agent she met while working on the Amber Knowles case. He recently retired from the DEA and was working as a private investigator in Jacksonville.
Mike bent down and kissed Rachel on the cheek. She thought he smelled wonderful. Like a mix of mint and something woodsy.
“You look nice,” Mike said, admiring her long, tanned legs.
“Oh, thanks. I just got back from a quick run on the beach.” Rachel wondered if she should go put on some jeans. She felt naked in front him with her tiny running shorts and sports tank top.
/>
“Nice place,” Mike said, looking around the beach house.
“Yes, it is. My friend Michelle was nice enough to let me use her vacation home while I worked on this case. I wasn’t sure how long I would be here.” Rachel opened the sliding glass door which led to the deck. “Want to go outside and have some coffee?” She grabbed the coffee carafe and an extra mug.
He followed her out onto the deck and took a seat. He hadn’t changed much since she had last seen him, which was a few months ago. He still had the “biker” look going on with a snug white t-shirt under a black leather jacket and distressed blue jeans. He looked good, she thought. Real good. She had a hard time keeping her feelings in check around him. It was hard to maintain a professional relationship with a handsome man who obviously liked you as well.
“Well, this is a surprise. I didn’t expect you until later this week,” Rachel said. When she had called him last night, he said he would be glad to help out, but it would be a couple of days before he could leave. It was a four hour drive from Jacksonville so she figured he must have left before the crack of dawn.
“The case I was working on got wrapped up sooner than I thought. So here I am.”
“Well, I’m glad you came.”
“Tell me what you got so far.”
Rachel sat down on the chair next to Mike, curling her legs up under her, and brought him up to speed on the case. She ended with telling him the conversation with the fire marshal. She trusted Mike not to say anything to anyone about the mannequin. “I think Sam may have gotten mixed up in something that was bigger than she could handle.”
“And the Mexican drug cartel may have been responsible for her disappearance?”
“Maybe. The head of the gang, Richard Flores, was pissed Ken and Paul zeroed in on his territory. Not to mention Ken was the person who initially busted one of his guys, Jason Blum. Then turned around and used Jason to run his deals. I think he had something to do with it – whether he kidnapped Sam or she set up this whole thing in order to get away from him. ”
“Flores is a sadistic and unpredictable son of a bitch. The rumors have circulated about him are gut-wrenching, to say the least. He is a legend among the Mexican mafia. You need to be careful.”
“I’ve already been warned. It’s why I wanted to see if you could help me out. I figure if Flores had something to do with Samantha’s disappearance, then the more I know about him, the better chance I have of finding her,” Rachel said. “What can you tell me about Flores?”
“Let’s see. Where do I start?”
“How did he get involved in the drug trade in Florida?”
“Richard, or little Ricky as he was called when he was younger, grew up filthy poor in Mexico City. His mom was a prostitute and his dad was non-existent most of his life. He learned to survive on the streets. When he was just six years old, he worked for Richard Gomez peddling weed to tourists and stealing from the same tourists he sold the weed to.
“When Flores turned sixteen, he was Richard Gomez’s right-hand man. He had proved his loyalty to Gomez by committing many murders of other rival gang members. By this time, Gomez had relocated his mafia family to San Diego.
“Flores has a tattoo of the gang, which is an eagle and a snake – the national symbol of Mexico – over a flaming circle of crossed knives.
“While in San Diego, Gomez increased his family gang members and Flores’ power grew. However, Flores grew tired of being the little guy. He had loftier aspirations. One night, Gomez mysteriously disappeared. No one questioned it because they were scared of Flores. Flores was next in line and took over operations. He decided to move the gang to Florida when California started cracking down hard on drug trafficking. Flores had connections in Miami and knew he could build his empire even higher. He wanted to establish himself as a prominent business man, so he starting buying up real estate and other businesses to funnel his drug money through. He donated money to the appropriate politicians and charitable organizations. Attended the right parties and mingled with the ‘in crowd,’ all the while increasing his business in the drug trade.
“He started expanding operations all through Florida. Santa Rosa Beach was a good place for him because of the location – easily accessible by water, close to five major cities such as Atlanta and Mobile, but also a low key spot for him to distribute his wares.
“Everything was going smoothly until Blum and Gonzalez were arrested. The DEA put the heat on Flores and he disappeared back in Mexico City.”
“Do you think he is out for revenge because Ken Collins arrested one of his guys?” Rachel asked.
“No, I think he is out for revenge because Ken Collins stole money from him by taking over his drug clientele.”
“When did Flores find out about Ken’s operation? He could have been the tipster if he knew.”
“I don’t know how Flores found out, but I am sure it was pretty easy. He has sources,” Mike said.
“If Flores did have something to do with Sam’s disappearance, what would he have done? Hold her somewhere?”
“I think if Flores got Sam, it’s not good. He is not the type to ask for ransom. He has money. This would be strictly revenge.”
Rachel shuddered. That was what she was afraid of. “Let’s hope she ran away then.”
“What can I do to help?” Mike asked.
Rachel smiled. She knew she could count on Mike to jump right in and use any resource to get the job done.
“Check your sources and see if you can find out if Flores knows anything about Sam’s disappearance.” Rachel laughed
“Right. Like it’s that easy.”
“Also, I would like to know if Flores has property around here. It may be a good place to search.”
“Ok. Let me make a phone.” Mike pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. Rachel only had to wait a couple of minutes before Mike had the info he needed.
“Flores owned several rental properties in the area. He funneled a lot of money through them. I have a list getting sent to my email. We can start there,” Mike said. “But don’t hold out too much hope. If Flores had anything to do with Sam’s disappearance, he wouldn’t have dumped her body on any of his properties.”
“Flores is just one theory I am contemplating. Mack Dixon, who was allegedly was having an affair with Sam is another. So is Paul Hart, Ken’s friend and business partner.”
“Ken would be at the top of my list.”
“Why is that?”
“His wife disappears the week she was suppose to testify at his trial? That’s just not sitting right with me. Too much of a coincidence, if you ask me.”
“It’s kind of hard to set a fire and kidnap your wife while in jail,” Rachel argued.
“Just because he is in jail doesn’t mean he couldn’t arrange for it to happen. He is an ex-cop. And alleged drug dealer. I’m sure he has plenty of contacts.”
“I don’t know. When we talked to him, I didn’t get that. He seemed genuinely concerned about his wife and his kids. He said over and over Sam wouldn’t leave the kids.”
“I’ve worked with many deceivers. Plenty of men and women have lied directly to my face. Look at his track record. He was a trusted member of the law and was selling dope right under their noses.”
“Nora, Samantha’s mom, is holding a press conference tomorrow morning. It’s going to be at the warehouse at 10am.”
“Sounds good. Something will shake loose soon,” Mike assured her. “I’ll make some more phone calls and meet you at the conference tomorrow.”
“Do you have a place to stay? We have an extra room.” Rachel hoped she sounded friendly and not too forthcoming.
“Thanks for the offer, but I already got a place down the road.” Mike got up from his chair.
“Well, at least come back over tonight for dinner. Stacy and I are going to the seafood market to get some fresh shrimp for pasta tonight.”
I hope it didn’t sound desperate, she thought, regretting the invitation as soon a
s it came out of her mouth.
Mike paused at the sliding glass door. “Ok. Sounds great.” He smiled. “You had me at pasta.”
Immense relief flooded through her. Rachel felt like she was 16 again and had a schoolgirl crush. “Great. See ya around seven-ish.”
Rachel watched him leave. She had mixed emotions about Mike. When they worked together in the Bahamas, there was definite chemistry between them. Today, he seemed a little detached. She didn’t know what to expect from him, but she was glad he was here to help. Before heading to take a quick shower, she glanced at her phone. She had a missed call and voice mail. She checked her messages and listened as Tammie asked if she would meet her tomorrow before the press conference. Rachel thought back to the day she met Nora. Tammie had said she had something important to tell her about Sam. She wondered if this had something to do with Sam’s affair with Mack.
Chapter Twenty-One
Santa Rosa Beach, Saturday morning
The next morning Rachel woke up with a good feeling. The nasty weather didn’t match her mood. She sat on the deck and watched thunderclouds roll in from the Gulf. A pod of dolphins were frolicking in the waves without a care in the world. When raindrops started falling, she grabbed her coffee cup and headed inside. Stacy was finishing a bagel and looking over her email.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Stacy said as she shoved the last bite in her mouth.
“Not going be sunshiny here today. I feel great, though.”
“Mike Mancini has something to do with that?” Stacy teased.
Rachel laughed. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“You can’t play coy with me, missy. I saw the way he looked at you all through dinner.”
Mike showed up for dinner right at seven and brought flowers. It didn’t take much to tempt him with homemade shrimp scampi and a nice bottle of wine.
Burn Out Page 8
