Michael was becoming increasingly annoyed by Geller’s remarks. “Yes, Kimberly was with me. We didn’t take the day off. We were in the middle of the desert working on a story. I would have called in and let you know what we were doing, but the battery on my cell phone died and there wasn’t another phone within miles of where we were.”
“I didn’t know there were any restaurants for you to review in the middle of the desert,” Geller chided snidely.
“We weren’t reviewing a restaurant, E.J. You said you wanted me to get more involved in general reporting. When I received a hot tip I decided to check it out myself. I thought you’d appreciate my initiative.”
Geller waved his unlit stogie as if it was a baton and he was leading a symphony orchestra. “Oh, I do, Michael, I do. Still, you could have phoned me before you left on your excursion to let me know where you would be. I was worried about both of you. It’s a good thing you’re writers for a newspaper and not drivers for an armored car company. I might have suspected you’d absconded with our gold bullion. That seems to be the big crime in Las Vegas these days.”
Michael gasped. Could Geller know about the gold ingots they’d found in the mine? No, he decided. That wasn’t possible. “What do you mean by that remark?” he questioned sharply.
Geller flicked an imaginary ash into his ashtray; his cigar had never been lit. “Nothing, nothing. It was meant to be a little joke, that’s all. Whatever you did yesterday must have been very tiring. Is that why both of you overslept this morning? Well, I suppose I shouldn’t complain too much. At least you made it in to work today in time to go to lunch.” Geller wouldn’t let go.
“It was very tiring, E.J., and we didn’t oversleep,” Michael educated him. “Before we came to work we had to return a Jeep and some other equipment we rented—you’ll get the bills—and Kimberly had to come with me. I couldn’t drive. As you can see, I sprained my ankle. On company time, thank you.”
“Nu, did you bring back a meaty story?”
“It’s meaty, all right,” Michael acknowledged. “But we don’t have all the facts yet. Not enough to go to print. Not even enough to take up your valuable time discussing. When we do, you’ll be the first to know.”
Despite his gruff facade, Geller was extremely pleased Michael was spreading his wings. He decided not to ride him further. Not at the moment, anyway. “Oh—by the way. A woman kept calling for you all day yesterday, Michael. Soozie something-or-other. The messages are piled on your desk. She seemed extremely anxious to talk with you. So I’ve been told, so I’ve been told.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve already spoken with the woman,” Michael explained. “Her name’s Soozie Snyder. She’s the person who gave me the lead Kim and I are following up on. And you’re right, E.J.—Kimberly and I will be going to lunch shortly. I have another meeting scheduled with the Snyder woman and Kim will have to schlep me to the restaurant. As I said before, I won’t be able to drive for a while.
“Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re going to check our desks to see what’s piled up and make a few phone calls before it’s time to leave for my luncheon appointment.”
Once in their office, Kimberly started phoning the people whose names and phone numbers were debossed into the ID tags Michael removed from the dog carcasses. Michael sorted out his messages. The majority were from Soozie and went directly into the wastebasket. The remainder appeared to be of scant importance, and he set them aside to call back later. Only one message—from Mark Caruso—seemed urgent enough for Michael to return immediately. He picked up his phone and punched in the numbers for Mark’s private line.
The police officer was at his desk and picked up the phone on the first ring. “Homicide Department—Detective Caruso.”
“Hello, Mark. This is Michael. I got your message. What’s up?”
“Hi, Michael. That’s what I was going to ask you. Did the Times get any response to your story about the Blue Goodness?”
“No. Not to my knowledge. I was out of the office all day yesterday working on a story, but I just spoke with Geller and I’m sure he would have told me if anyone had called or turned the poison in here.”
“We’re running into a dead end at Metro, too. We’ve put word out on the street that there’s a big reward for information leading to the return of the Blue Goodness—no questions asked. So far, none of our regular stoolies has been able to tell us anything about who might have committed the break-in at Royal’s clinic. Whoever did the job is either outside our channel of communications with the drug world or is keeping a very low profile.
“What were you doing out of the office all day yesterday, Michael? Is there a food fair or restaurant convention in town?” Caruso was one of the few people outside of the Times who knew Michael was the newspaper’s Anonymous Gourmet.
Michael laughed. “No. What I was working on didn’t have anything to do with my Anonymous Gourmet column. Geller’s been pressing me to take on more reporting duties. So, when I got what seemed like a hot tip about some bodies being dumped down a mine shaft, Kimberly and I drove out to the mine to check out the lead.”
“That could have been dangerous. You should have called me, Michael, and let someone from my department do the investigating.”
“There were cogent reasons why I couldn’t. Besides, my source wasn’t very credible and I didn’t want Metro to spend tax dollars on a wild goose chase.”
“I take it you didn’t find any cadavers—else you would have told me by now.”
“Oh, we found dead bodies, all right. Not human, though. Animals. Dogs and cats. When I get everything figured out I may come up with a story of sorts—I don’t have enough information yet to know if it’ll be worth printing—but, if so, it certainly won’t involve your department.”
“I’m glad to hear that. We don’t need a serial killer or mass murderer running around on the loose in Vegas. We have enough problems just trying to keep up with the domestic violence and drive-by shootings that result in homicides.”
“While I have you on the phone, Mark, I want to ask you for a small favor—”
“Sure, Michael. Anything. As long as you don’t want me to fix a traffic ticket and you don’t want to borrow money.”
Michael laughed. “No, nothing like that. I’d just like you to check your computer and tell me if you have any priors on a woman named Soozie Snyder. She spells her first name S-O-O-Z-I-E and her last name S-N-Y-D-E-R. She’s a real estate agent.”
“No problem. I’ll check the name in my computer right now.” Michael could hear Mark typing. “Let’s see. Snyder’s had three parking tickets and one speeding ticket in the last three years—nothing major. Oh, oh, what’s this?”
Michael’s ears perked up. “What is it, Mark? What did you find?”
“Your real estate agent must be a working girl on the side. She’s been arrested at least a dozen times for solicitation, prostitution, even trick-rolling. But this is strange. The DA never pressed charges on any of the counts and Snyder never spent as much as one night in jail. She must have a damn good lawyer. Someone who has a helluva lotta juice with both the DA’s office and the judges.”
“That doesn’t speak well for our judicial system, does it?”
“No. It really doesn’t.” Mark was uncomfortable with Michael’s observation, but knew he was right. “Well, thanks for returning my call, Michael. Let me know if you get any response to your article about the Blue Goodness. If we get any information at Metro I’ll let you know. I’ve gotta go now.”
“Me, too. I have an important luncheon appointment and can’t be late.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
Kimberly stood over Michael with her arms folded and an expectant look on her face. She was dying with curiosity. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense any longer. What did Mark have to say about Soozie?”
Michael’s lips turned upward in a curious smile. His nut brown eyes gleamed. He grabbed Kimberly and gave her a large bearhug. “She’s a
hooker.”
Kimberly’s jaw dropped wide open. She involuntarily raised a hand to cover her mouth. “Honest-to-God? You’re not kidding me, are you Michael?”
“That’s the emmes, Kim. The absolute truth. Now I know your plan is going to work.”
“No doubt about it. We’ll have Miss Soozie by the short hair.”
“While I was talking with Mark, what did you find out from the dogs’ owners?”
Kimberly sat down in the chair next to Michael’s desk and crossed her legs. “I didn’t want to tell any of them what we found. They would have been traumatized. So, I posed as a clerk at the Clark County Department of Animal Control and asked why they hadn’t renewed their pet’s license. Naturally, everyone said they didn’t buy a new tag because their dog was dead. After that was established, I followed up with other questions.
“There doesn’t seem to be anything sinister about how the dogs died. All of them passed away from old age or other natural causes, or of complications following surgery. Now, listen to this. Each of the owners paid from four to six hundred dollars to have their animal buried. Some of them paid as much as five hundred dollars more for a marker for the pet’s grave.”
“Did they say where the animals are supposedly interred?”
“Yes. They all believe their pets are buried at Fairlawn Pet Cemetery.”
“That’ll be our first stop after we finish with Soozie.”
Sixteen
AS HE HAD PLANNED, Michael arrived at the Gold Crest’s Ponce de Leon room early. He toked the maitre d’ ten dollars to seat him in a booth at the extreme rear of the restaurant. It would not do for Myra to catch him having lunch with Soozie. Not at all. He leaned his crutches against a wall and eased onto the red vinyl seat. The busboy rushed up to fill his glass with ice water, and Michael ordered a cup of coffee. He had just emptied two packets of sugar into the steaming brew and was adding a dash of cream to cool it down when Soozie pranced up, escorted by the maitre d’. She was wearing a simple peach blouse and a very short brown skirt.
A big smile crossed Michael’s face. “Soozie, you’re right on time. You’re really looking great. You’re even more beautiful than I remembered. You’ve been on my mind constantly ever since we met.” He patted the seat next to him. “Come, sit down next to me. Close. Please don’t consider me rude if I don’t stand up. I have a bad ankle. Those are my crutches over there.” He pointed toward the wall.
Soozie’s brow wrinkled questioningly. “What’s the matter with your ankle, sweetheart? You were okay the other day.”
Michael lowered his head shamefacedly. “I’d rather not talk about it,” he told her. “It’s kind of … well, it’s embarrassing.” He looked back up and his eyes locked onto hers. She noticed the sparkle in his irises and the sly smile on his lips. “I’m fine everywhere else,” he said seductively. “The lame ankle won’t put a damper on anything you want to do this afternoon.”
Soozie had wondered how Michael’s mood would be. After all, she had literally forced him to have sex with her and demanded he meet her for lunch. The passionate kiss he gave her the moment she sat down put her at ease. She thought to herself she hadn’t lost her touch—one good screw, no matter what the circumstances, and a man was hers forever. Apparently, the bondage had turned Michael on. She wished she had brought some rope or a pair of handcuffs in her purse. Next time, she’d remember.
Michael’s hand, concealed by the tablecloth, caressed the inside of Soozie’s naked thighs. As his fingers edged closer to her love flesh, tremors of excitement welled up inside. She leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Damn, Michael, that feels good, but you’d better stop. If you don’t, I’m going to have an orgasm right here in this restaurant, and you know how loud I am when I come.”
“Sorry,” Michael apologized, pulling his hand out from beneath Soozie’s skirt. He had a mischievous grin. “I didn’t mean to get carried away. It’s just that you make me very horny, Soozie. I’ll try to control myself. Until after lunch, that’s all. Then, when we get into the hotel room, anything goes.
“I’ve gotta apologize to you for yesterday. I didn’t realize you wanted to get together—else I would have sat by the phone all day waiting for your call. I thought you wanted me to start on the dead bodies story as soon as possible, so that’s what I did. I spent the entire day in the desert and even went down in the mine shaft. I saw the bodies. They were there, right where you said they would be.”
“I’m glad you took me seriously, but I wish I’d known that’s what you were going to do yesterday, sweetheart. I would have taken the day off and gone with you.”
“I would have liked that. We could have had a lot of fun together—maybe even stopped at a motel on the way back.” Michael paused to take a sip of his coffee. “One thing is puzzling me, though. I was expecting to find human corpses, not the remains of cats and dogs.”
Soozie was obviously taken aback. “Human corpses? Why on earth would you think that, sweetheart? I never said the bodies were human, did I?”
The waiter came and took their order. Michael selected the ham and cheese on rye; Soozie chose the chef’s salad. After the waiter stepped away Michael continued the conversation. “No, you didn’t. I just assumed they were. I guess I’m not too bright, but I don’t understand how I can build a grabbing story around a bunch of dead animals.”
“It’s a scam, don’t you see?” Soozie explained earnestly. “People paid a lot of money to have their pets buried properly, but, instead, the animals were dumped down the mine shaft. When people read the Times and learn what happened to their dogs and cats they’re going to be outraged.”
“Do you know who’s responsible for this infamy?” Michael realized Soozie was truly upset. Perhaps, he thought, she was a charter member of the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals group.
She put a finger to his lips. “Of course I do, sweetheart, but it’ll be better if you find out for yourself. If your investigation gets bogged down, I’ll give you more hints. Like Deep Throat did with Bernstein—or, was it Woodward?”
The waiter brought their lunch, and Soozie changed the subject to real estate. “What about that house you looked at, sweetheart? Are you ready to make an offer?”
Michael turned his head away. “There’s … there’s a problem that’s come up. Myra—my wife—got really mad at me last night. I don’t think she’s going to want to buy a house right now. She’s gotta cool off first.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Soozie intoned. “Why don’t you buy the house anyway and let me live in it? You can come visit me whenever you want.”
“I wish I could, but I don’t make that much money at the Times. Without Myra’s savings for the down payment and her help on making the notes each month, I can’t afford to buy the house.”
Soozie shrugged her shoulders. “C’est la vie,” she remarked casually. She’d made the suggestion, what more could she do? She hated to lose the commission on the sale, but what she had planned for Michael was much more important. She could always earn money. She was, as she liked to say, sitting on a gold mine.
When they finished their lunch, Michael leaned over and gave Soozie another long, passionate kiss. “Do you want some dessert?” he asked. “Or, will I do?”
“I’m ready whenever you are,” she told him. “Did you get us a room yet?”
He reached in his pocket and pulled out a key attached to a plastic tag. He waved it back and forth in front of her temptingly. “Of course,” he replied with a lecherous chuckle. “I checked in before lunch, to save time now.”
Michael’s eyes widened and his face looked like he had just seen a ghost. “OHMYGOD!” he exclaimed in a stage whisper. He slouched low in the seat. “It’s my wife! The woman wearing a white pantsuit outfit who just came in the door! I think she sees us, Soozie. She’s coming this way. What are we going to do?”
Soozie took a cigarette from her purse and lit it calmly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, there’s nothing to
worry about. We’ll tell her we’ve been out looking at houses together and broke for lunch. I’ll give her one of my business cards, and that will be that.”
“No. You don’t understand. Myra’s extremely jealous—and she has a very short fuse. When I went home last night she was furious because you’d called my house looking for me. That’s what happened to my ankle—she threw an iron at me. Thank God her aim was bad. She was trying to hit me higher up.”
The woman Michael had pointed out stopped in front of their table. “Well, well, Michael, fancy meeting you here. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your lady friend?” She sat down next to Soozie, effectively blocking her exit.
“Uh, yeah. Myra, I’d like you to meet Miss Soozie Snyder. Soozie’s in the real estate business. Miss Snyder, this is my wife, Myra.”
Soozie tentatively proffered her hand, but Kimberly ignored the gesture. “Now, what is it you want with my husband, Soozie? I take it you’re the same Soozie who called my house repeatedly yesterday afternoon looking for him.”
Blue Goodness (Michael Kaplan Mysteries) Page 13
