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Bad Vice: Gotcha Detective Agency Mystery #5 (Gotcha Detective Agency Mysteries)

Page 2

by Jamie Lee Scott


  I’d been married to Dominic Capurro, an apparent produce broker, and a couple of years ago he’d died in a plane crash while on business, and his body was never found. He could have been in the family drug business, he could have been a legit produce broker, I’ll never know. As of three months ago, I’m officially a widow. I don’t give a shit what the insurance companies say.

  Nick went his way, and in my meltdown, I tried to go mine. I deleted his phone number from my cell to keep myself from calling him. I’d already made a big enough ass of myself over him. I was done. Since his number was unlisted, I had no way of putting it back in my phone.

  We’d tried to have lunch once, after seeing each other regularly, when I was attending the meetings to set up the decoy operation, but it was a disaster. Since then, we hadn’t seen each other again until now.

  CHAPTER 2

  Charles

  My head almost spun around like the chick in The Exorcist. Was Piper preggo? I can’t believe Mimi hadn’t told me. Just because I hadn’t been a part of the decoy program didn’t mean they should keep the good stuff a secret.

  By the way, let me formally introduce myself. I’m sure you think you know me because of Mimi, but believe me, there is more than meets the eye. Or maybe not, because what meets the eye is pretty damn spectacular. But I digress… I’m Charles Parks, co-owner of Gotcha Detective Agency, and I’m really the nuts (literally, and pun intended) and bolts of the operation. Being the only man on staff at the agency, I deal with my share of gossip and girlie crap, but no one let me in on this one.

  By this one, I mean Piper Mason, who looked like she was about to burst. I started toward Piper.

  As I took a step, my shoulder was wrenched back by Mimi. “Where are you going?”

  I looked at her. “To the bathroom. Is that okay with you, Mom?”

  Mimi looked past me to Piper. “Liar.”

  Caught red handed. “Yep.”

  “You can’t leave me here alone. You’re supposed to be my moral support, just in case.” Mimi’s eyes darted to where Piper and Nick were booking the imbecile they’d brought in.

  I shook my head. “Oh, grow up. You’re moving on, right? Besides, don’t you have a date tonight?”

  She gave me a facetious smile. “It’s not a date.”

  It was a date. The first of many she’d be having. I looked from side to side, as if I was letting the world in on a big secret, and then blurted out, “Mimi has to get going. She has a hot date tonight.”

  If she could, she’d have crawled under the table. Not wanting to look foolish, instead she stomped on my foot with her nice little leopard print ballet flat. Because that didn’t look at all foolish.

  For a first date outfit, she could have done worse. Over the last few months, depression had done a number on Mimi’s appetite, and she’d lost at least twenty pounds. She’d needed to lose about fifteen as it was, so maybe getting dumped by Nick was a good thing.

  Black was still her color of choice, which was fine for a few more years, but when the wrinkles started getting deeper, she’d have to find a new shade. I don’t think women realize how much older black makes them look as they age.

  Mimi wore black, wide legged slacks that fit her ass like a glove, and that ass looked better than it had in years. The running she’d taken up, in lieu of anti-depressants, had done wonders. I’d bet next month’s income that she wore a “wonder bra” and when that man got her in bed, he’d be wondering where the hell those perky boobs disappeared to. But Mimi’s breasts did look like they belonged on a twenty-year-old in that silk blouse. If this wasn’t a date, then how come she dressed like she wanted to get laid?

  “I hate you,” she said as she turned and walked away.

  I noticed she walked toward Nick and Piper, but then detoured about a step before getting close enough to acknowledge them.

  I had no issues with the detectives, so I left Cortnie to her decoys and headed over to where the smart mouth Hispanic kid was giving Piper more grief. I didn’t hear exactly what was said, but from the look on Piper’s face, it was rude.

  Not being a cop, I had no intention of putting up with this kid’s disrespectful crap. I stepped past Piper, grabbed the little gangbanger by the throat and shoved him against the wall. Piper stepped back and turned away.

  “Look, you little pissant, you eat your sister with that mouth?”

  “The fuck you talkin’ about, white boy?” It took him a moment to understand what I’d implied. When he figured it out, he spit in my face and said, “That what she taste like?”

  Game on, bitch! I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of wiping the spit off my face, though his germs were burning my skin like acid. God, I hate other people’s germs.

  I got a much better grip on the boy’s neck, then reached between his legs and grabbed him by the balls. Yeah, I know, tacky, but effective. I squeezed.

  Desperate, the thug looked over to Piper. “Get this crazy bitch off me.”

  Piper ignored us and walked away. Nick glanced over his shoulder, before he turned back to his paperwork.

  “Dude, I’m gonna have you arrested for assault,” the boy rasped. “Then I’m gonna fuck you up.”

  I got close enough to see the yellow in his bloodshot eyes. “You aren’t going to do shit. You treat these hardworking detectives like that, then expect they’re going to come to your rescue?”

  “They got to.” He scowled.

  I loosened my grip, but just a bit. “They ain’t got to do shit. If I was them, I’d walk out of the room, and make sure everyone else did, too. Then I’d let me fuck you up, so no one would ever recognize your ugly mug again. When I came back in the room, I’d say, ‘Damn, boy, what you do to yourself? You takin’ LSD or something? Should we take you to the detox tank?’”

  Smug asshole said, “Shows what you know.” He looked around.

  At that very moment, the vice cops left the building, along with the chief, and Piper and Nick headed toward the reception area. I looked over my shoulder. It was just me and the boy.

  “Really? Wanna try me?” I squeezed hard and jumped out of the way.

  When the boy’s feet touched the floor again, he doubled over and puked. I’d given him a really good squeeze.

  I walked over to the coffee service area and grabbed a roll of paper towels and a spray bottle of Lysol. When I stood in front of him again, I said, “Now clean this shit up. And when the detectives get back in the room, you are going to apologize for being a douche bag, then you are going to cooperate and let them book you. Got it?”

  I had to admit, it was going to be difficult to clean with his hands cuffed behind his back, but what the hell, this was his problem, not mine. The boy slapped the paper towel roll away.

  Some people never learn. I rolled him over and shoved his face in the vomit and said, “Start licking.”

  He struggled hard under my grip, and I was sure he was going to vomit again. I took this moment to wipe off my face. Ah, relief.

  “Vomit again, and there will just be more to lick up.”

  He finally stopped resisting, and I eased up. He sat up and reached for the towels, sat on his butt, and started cleaning up the mess he’d made. It was quite a sight watching him struggle with the cuffs and scooting along the floor on his ass while cleaning up his vomit. But they weren’t about to uncuff the little piece of shit, and it made for some entertainment.

  I looked up, and Mayor Agatha Bosch was staring at me.

  I groaned inwardly. Great time for me to be a badass. Then I looked at her and smiled my thousand watt smile. “Mayor Bosch! What brings such a lovely woman to a place like this on a beautiful Friday night?”

  She looked at me with contempt. “Where is Chief Delgado?”

  From behind me, I heard Nick say, “He’s out on a case. Can I help you?”

  Agatha Bosch, daughter of the wealthiest cattle farmers in Monterey County, had kept her maiden name, even though she’d recently married Reginald Wick. “
Call him in here, now.” She pointed a short, scarlet lacquered, squared off fingernail at Nick.

  Nick stepped around the boy, who’d stopped wiping up his vomit, to better talk to Agatha.

  “Finish up,” I said to the kid, who didn’t hesitate as he grabbed the Lysol and started spraying where he’d wiped.

  I thought she’d pitch a fit about the kid and the vomit, bring up police brutality, but she only rolled her eyes. She’s probably like the rest of us, sick of the gang violence ruining our city’s reputation and could care less how the little thugs were treated at this point. Maybe if they felt disrespected enough, they’d move to the next town instead. Wishful thinking.

  Agatha wore patent leather nude pumps, beige stockings, a nicely tailored A-line skirt in a darker shade of beige, and a silk trench coat in a shade I’d call taupe. Her thick makeup accentuated her crow’s feet, and the berry lipstick, immaculately applied, made her look like Cruella de Vil. If I remembered correctly, she was about sixty, and this monochrome palette made her look every single day of it, plus a decade.

  “He’s in a meeting, but I can try to help you.” Nick’s voice was steady and sincere.

  She worked in the office a few hundred feet away at City Hall. Why hadn’t she approached the chief during business hours?

  She looked around to see who else was within earshot. “I’m sure this is beyond your jurisdiction, but I need to have charges dropped.”

  Nick looked amused. “You’ve been arrested?”

  I could only imagine, drunk driving, jaywalking, running a red light?

  She looked down at the boy, who had finished cleaning and was just eavesdropping. I looked at him, too.

  “Get up.” I helped him by grabbing his elbow tightly and pulling him up.

  “Ouch,” he whined.

  “How you gonna be in a gang if you such a pussy?” I asked.

  Nick leaned in close and whispered, “You know you’re white, right?”

  Where was my gold grill when I needed it? I flashed a gum exposing smile anyway.

  Agatha said, “Such language.”

  Both the mayor and Nick glared at me.

  I started to apologize, then thought, fuck them, this was a police station, not ladies day at the Elks Lodge.

  Piper walked back in the room and took the boy from my grip. “Thanks.” She winked at me.

  The boy went willingly, and I think I heard him say, “Sorry for being a douche.” Naw, my imagination, I’m sure.

  I watched as his cuffed hands fiddled with the red knit beanie in his back pocket.

  I stayed put. Something juicy was about to go down, and I didn’t want to miss it.

  Nick looked over his shoulder. “Charles, is there something you needed?”

  I shook my head, but didn’t move.

  Nick cocked his chin out, as if telling me to get a move on, but I furrowed my brows as if I didn’t understand his silent command.

  “One moment, ma’am,” Nick said, to Agatha. He then grabbed my bicep and led me about ten feet away. “Thanks for putting the kid in his place, but I think I’ve got this one handled.”

  I flexed my bicep. “I’ve been working out. Can you tell?”

  Nick’s hand flew off me like I was on fire. It was all I could do not to roll on the floor and laugh.

  “Go. Now.” There was no trace of patience or friendship in his command.

  Fine, I know when I’ve overstayed my welcome. Or not.

  I said my goodbyes, then stepped around the corner. I hoped Nick wouldn’t take Agatha into the homicide division, because there’d be no way for me to follow without being seen.

  “So sorry, ma’am. Now what is this about charges being dropped?”

  I heard Agatha inhale, and then exhale in a long sigh. “My husband.”

  I grinned. I knew exactly what had happened. Her sleazy husband had been arrested in the decoy sting last weekend. This was the man Cortnie and I had such a problem with, the one who nearly shut down the program. He’d screamed and fought with the cops, warning them that there’d be consequences of his being arrested.

  “Your husband? What was he arrested for?”

  I wished I could see Agatha’s face as she admitted, “Solicitation.”

  I heard Nick’s voice raise an octave. “Oh?”

  Suddenly, Agatha felt the need to be friendly. “You see, hon, it was just a misunderstanding. Apparently, he was trying to see if the lady really was a prostitute, and well, when he went too far with his inquiry, the police arrested him.”

  As if speaking to a child, Nick said, “Mayor Bosch, that’s not how it works. We don’t arrest people for suspicion of solicitation. The john has to go through the steps to prove intent.”

  “John? My husband’s name is Reggie. I would think, as a public servant, you’d know the mayor’s husband’s name.”

  Even slower, Nick said, “A john is what we call the men who solicit prostitutes. So, Reggie was a john that night, and he was apparently arrested when he solicited one of our decoys.”

  Agatha spat her next words at Nick. “Do I look like an idiot to you? Because you’re sure speaking to me as if I am.”

  I didn’t hear Nick’s response.

  Agatha spoke again, “That’s not at all what happened; it was a misunderstanding. Besides, this is entrapment. And I’ll see to it that the program is stopped.”

  “You know what, it’s probably best that you speak to the chief after all. I can’t do anything about this for you.”

  “Fine. When can I speak to him?”

  I could almost hear Nick shrug. “He was in a meeting, and I’m pretty sure I saw him leave. So, Monday or Tuesday…”

  Agatha stomped her nude pump hard on the floor. “No! This needs to be taken care of tonight. I can’t have my husband’s name and face plastered all over the newspapers. This is an election year. I’ll not have this horrendous misunderstanding ruining my chances of reelection.”

  So that was it. There was no misunderstanding. The decoy program was set up to alleviate such problems. She knew her husband’s arrest would be published in the paper, and on the police mug shot website, not to mention Facebook. This was about her, not her husband. It wouldn’t take too long before people put two and two together and got “Don’t Vote for Agatha Bosch” for an answer.

  Satisfied with the information I’d gleaned, I stepped into the other room to talk to Piper.

  Gangbanger was in holding cell A, and Piper sat outside scribbling on papers attached to a clipboard.

  She looked up when I came in. “My hero,” she said as she stood to hug me, her belly pushing into my abs.

  I gently pushed her back. “Something you’ve forgotten to tell me?”

  Piper looked down at the basketball sized lump under her stretched polo shirt. “I’m having a baby?”

  I wanted to pick her up and swirl her around, but that might not be good for the baby. I also wanted to slap her silly. Didn’t she know that children ruin lives? Once they come into your world, you have no more life. It’s all about them.

  “I see that. But how?” I tried to say it with as much couth as I could muster, but there was no nice way to ask this question to a lesbian.

  Piper giggled. “Not the old fashioned way, that’s for sure. Simone would shit a brick.”

  “Looks like you’re going to be the one shitting a brick. Only it’s coming out another hole, and it’ll be crying when it gets out.” I gently punched her in the shoulder.

  “You are just like everyone else. You should see Simone. She’s bigger than I am.” Piper grinned.

  “What? You’re both preggo?” This was too much to bear.

  “Yes. Isn’t it crazy? We couldn’t decide who should have the baby, so we were both inseminated.”

  Piper looked so proud and happy, I didn’t have the heart to tell her how much I pitied her. Two kids. Way worse than just one. “I guess double congratulations are in order.”

  Piper jumped up and down a little, and th
en held her belly as if that may not have been a good idea.

  “I’m not going to ask you all the annoying questions you’ve likely answered for months. Just send me the birth notice, so I can buy you a gift.” I hated all that “when are you due, is it a boy or a girl, do you have a name” crap.

  She shook her head. “Simone and I have taken leave from work. Tonight is my last shift before I take six months off.” She rubbed her belly. “I’m glad I saw you before I left. It’s been months.”

  “Yes, it has. I didn’t even know you were ‘with child’ the last time I saw you.” Now I was getting miffed that I’d been left out of the news.

  “We didn’t tell anyone until we could no longer hide the little bundles.” She reached out and stroked my cheek. “Don’t be mad at me.”

  I hugged her again to let her know there were no hard feelings.

  “This is going to be a cluster fuck.” Nick walked into the room. “What the hell are you still doing here?”

  “Eavesdropping.” I didn’t see any reason to lie.

  CHAPTER 3

  Mimi

  Charles was going to pay for his little shout out. But I couldn’t think about that anymore. I had a date. A real date. A damn blind date.

  Is it really a blind date when you meet on an online dating service? I promised myself I’d never resort to this level to get a date, but apparently Charles had no problem doing it for me.

  I straightened my silk blouse, and buttoned one more button. I didn’t want to give this guy any ideas.

  This is what I already knew about him. Bruno Travers was thirty-five, lived in King City, and raised dairy cows. Never married, because his fiancé died the night before their wedding. He stood six feet tall with an athletic build (even though his photos didn’t look all that athletic), dirty blond hair that was cropped short on the sides, but a bit long on top, and brown eyes. He looked extremely tan, too, almost too tan, like it was a tanning booth tan. Ick. Nothing screams vain like a man who tans in a tanning booth.

 

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