Grave Consequences

by Aimée Thurlo

  “Damn straight,” Charlie said, suppressing a smile. He looked over at Detective DuPree, who’d just ended his call. “To be continued,” Charlie added softly.

  “Your brother hasn’t called in, which suggests he might still be with someone in that crew. He never made it to his apartment either,” DuPree explained. “They have a location for him, though. He’s currently at an apartment not far from that steakhouse.”

  “How is the undercover unit keeping track of him?” Charlie asked. “Following him closely enough to know exactly where he is can be risky unless they have a big team.”

  “The team leader didn’t say, but I’m guessing there’s a GPS on him or they’re tracking his cell phone,” DuPree said. “As long as they let him keep it, we’ll know where he is.”

  “More precisely, his cell phone,” Gordon corrected.

  DuPree shrugged.

  “Any way we can get a read on his GPS?” Charlie asked.

  “Afraid not, at least not from APD,” DuPree replied, looking at Charlie. “Well, unless you can think of anything you can add to what you’ve already stated tonight—this morning—I’m done here.”

  “What does Charlie do now?” Gordon asked.

  “Wait until everyone leaves, then go back to bed. That’s if they don’t consider the interior of your home a crime scene,” DuPree added.

  “Welcome to sleep on my couch,” Gordon offered.

  Charlie looked around the yard and into the street. The crime scene team were taking down the lights and putting away their gear, and the few sleepy, curious neighbors had already gone home. “Thanks, Gordon, but I’ll be sticking around. Forget about me going to work earlier, like I planned. The auto glass people will be here at eight, and I want to get back on the road in my own car.”

  “Okay. I’m outta here. Give me a call when you’re on your way to work, Charlie, or if another body shows up,” Gordon said, giving DuPree a glance.

  DuPree walked away, shaking his head slowly.

  “Talk to you later, bud,” Gordon said. “And keep some firepower handy.”

  “You too,” Charlie answered, watching until his friend drove away in his big pickup, then went back inside. He walked through every room, locked the back door, then checked the garage. Grateful that only the windshield had been shattered, he locked the garage door as well and stepped back out onto the front porch. The body had been taken away and blood samples collected. All he’d need to do would be to wash off what remained. The crime scene team was still putting away their gear, so he might as well do what he could before going inside a final time.

  A big flower pot was over against the house wall, containing nothing but dirt and the stub of a long-dead plant. Digging into the potting soil, he brought out two large handfuls of dirt, then sprinkled it into the blood, effectively covering it up. Later he could sweep up whatever soaked into the dry soil, then hose down the porch.

  Kevin, the same lab tech that DuPree had spoken to earlier, came up, left his card, then walked back to the large mobile unit. Charlie was inside, washing his hands, when he heard the vehicle leave. Five minutes later he was in bed, asleep.

  Chapter Nine

  “Jake, Ruth, if either of you feel uncomfortable sticking around here today, just say the word,” Charlie announced once they’d all gathered in the office. He’d made it to the pawnshop only a half hour after opening, and when he arrived it appeared to be business as usual. At the moment the shop was empty of customers so he’d called them in for coffee and a quick meeting.

  “Just how dangerous do you think this place is, guys?” Jake asked, looking from Charlie to Gordon. “I’m not one to run the other way, but this involves all of us and we have family members to consider.”

  “As long as we’re careful and stick to our safety procedures, I don’t think we face any real risk, at least not you or Ruth,” Charlie added. “Gordon and I have just really gotten somebody ticked off.”

  “So, does that mean you and Gordon are going to back away and let the police handle the murder investigation and find the missing witness?” Ruth asked, her eyes narrowing.

  “For the record, we’re saying yes to the question,” Charlie answered, not looking at Gordon. They’d already settled on a plan. “But we may be gone from time to time during the working day, and officially, we’re out conducting business.”

  “So if the police ask us what you two are up to…” Ruth said. “We don’t really know.”

  “Well, whatever you two won’t be doing, good luck, and stay safe,” Jake replied, looking through the Plexiglas office panel as a man in his fifties entered the pawnshop carrying a cardboard box. “We’ve got a customer, so I guess this never-happened meeting is over.” He stepped out into the shop area and walked up to greet the man.

  “And you, Ruth?” Charlie asked.

  She touched him on the arm briefly. “Stay safe. Renée would miss you terribly if something happened. And you too, Gordon.” She grabbed her coffee and walked back into the storeroom, where she’d been checking inventory.

  Gordon looked over at Charlie. “Ruth would miss you more.”

  Charlie laughed, grabbed his own mug, and stepped out into the hall as the bell went off at the front entrance. Two college-aged kids walked in carrying a game console and a clear plastic box containing a big stack of games.

  His cell phone chimed. He stopped, set down his coffee, and read the text message. “It’s Al. He wants to meet me at the Subway inside the Cottonwood Walmart at one PM.”

  “That could work. It’s public, and the bad guys won’t want to be caught on surveillance, which is everywhere in those stores,” Gordon replied. “While you’re talking I can pick up some groceries and watch for hostiles.”

  “I like that,” Charlie said, answering the text with a single letter—k. “I wonder what Al’s got on his mind. You’d think his team would prefer that he avoid me.”

  “He might be doing this without their knowledge. Maybe Al has trust issues,” Gordon said.

  “Only one way to find out. Let me tell Ruth and Jake about our lunch plans so they can take their breaks early,” Charlie said, putting away his cell phone.

  * * *

  Al was already at a small table in the back of the Walmart Subway section, alone and eating when Charlie arrived, taking his place in the line waiting to order a sandwich.

  The tables were almost full. Charlie turned and casually surveyed the grocery customers, paying close attention to a young, slender, dark-haired woman in road-crew orange short shorts and a tight sleeveless crop top with a half-full cart. She was leaning over, sorting through the juice section. He wanted to seem like an ordinary guy eyeing the ladies while on lunch break—something that required little effort at the moment.

  “Can I help you?” the woman behind the counter said, interrupting his ogling with a sarcastic tone.

  He turned around and grinned at the bleached blonde, closer to his age, pleasant enough looking and with meat on her bones, probably more his speed. “Caught me. Umm, I’ll have a foot-long turkey on Italian, double mozzarella, not roasted.”

  She grinned back. “Sure, honey. Anything else?”

  “One can only hope, but, no, just a large Coke.”

  This time she laughed.

  Two minutes later, Charlie put his wallet back in his pocket, looked around at the mostly occupied chairs, then over at Al. “Got room, buddy?”

  Al nodded. “Sure.”

  Charlie came over and sat, brought the sandwich out of the bag, took a bite, then a sip of Coke. “I’m Dave,” he announced loud enough to be heard from the next table if anyone cared.

  “Justin,” Al replied. “Like the boots.”

  Charlie kept chewing for a while, giving Al a chance to talk.

  “You and Gordon caused a stir last night. That guy Steve recognized you as soon as he came into the restaurant.”

  “Yeah, after what happened later, we kind of figured that out. We were hoping his quick glance around
the room had passed over us,” Charlie replied. “What did he say?”

  “He held back at first, not knowing who I was when he came to the table,” Al answered, then took a bite of his sandwich before continuing. “After I was introduced as a new ‘employee,’ he announced that you two were the pawnshop shooters.”

  “Okay.”

  “Then Steve added that his brother Jerry had taken a bullet and was feeling a lot of pain. He wanted payback—to take you guys out.”

  “Almost did, Al. What about the guy in the black suit? The boss? How did he react to this news?”

  “That’s Clarence, the owner of the place. He was pissed. Clarence told Steve he was a dumb-ass for showing his face in public and putting them all in the spotlight. He needed to get the hell out of there and take care of the problem. He was told not to come back until the job was done—and this time, done right.”

  “That’s when Steve took off?” Charlie asked, taking another bite of sandwich.

  Al nodded.

  “How did his mother, Sheila Ben, react to all this?” Charlie asked.

  “No reaction at all, from what I could tell, but by then I was focusing on Clarence, trying to cinch my acceptance into the group. Once I’d heard them discussing the pawnshop screwup, I knew I was either going to be ranked in or killed.” Al looked down one of the grocery aisles, then focused back on Charlie. “See you brought protection.”

  “Don’t say it quite like that.”

  Al smiled. “Okay. Yeah, once Steve left, Clarence told two of the others, Ronnie and some other guy whose name I never heard, to go with Steve and make sure he didn’t screw this up too.”

  “When did you find out what went down later?”

  “I returned to the steakhouse after you left, then, just before the place closed, the two guys came back alone. Ronnie whispered something to Clarence I couldn’t hear, then Clarence whispered something back,” Al said. “I didn’t know if you were alive or what until I was able to leave Ronnie’s place this morning. Said I needed some sack time and a change of clothes. Once I was clear, I sent the text. When you answered I knew you were okay. Later I heard on the news about a body turning up in your neighborhood. Was that Steve?”

  Charlie nodded. “Shot twice, dumped on my front porch. Some kind of warning, I guess.”

  “Well, at least you and Gordon are okay.”

  “How much of what happened does your team know?” Charlie asked.

  “Everything Detective DuPree told them after talking to you this morning,” Al replied, sipping on the last of his soft drink.

  “So, you think the Night Crew is going to find out we’re related?” Charlie asked.

  “Hope not. I thought of that, but it’s worth the risk if I can track down whoever killed the silversmith. I don’t know any of these people. I don’t know who I can trust, not yet. Which brings up the obvious. You and Gordon are taking these attempts on your lives personally, aren’t you?” Al asked. “Obviously he’s backing you up right now.”

  “We don’t want to do anything that’ll threaten your safety, Al,” Charlie said, glancing around. Everyone was busy eating and talking, and nobody had even looked their way.

  “That sounds more like a yes than a no, so let’s try not to get into each other’s way. What do you have in mind?”

  “Okay, Al, but keep as much of this to yourself as you can without getting into trouble.” Charlie had kept his voice low, but now it was even lower. “We’re going to do our best to disrupt these people’s operations and basically screw with their lives in every way we can. Once we thin out the Night Crew they’ll need someone like you to fill in. Hopefully, you’ll be able to get in a position to hear or see something that’ll lead you to identifying whoever killed Buck.”

  “What if you hassle someone who’s not part of the crew?”

  “We’ll be careful. Just count on us pissing them off,” Charlie added. “If all you can do is discover who’s trying to find Lola Tso, and where she got the squash blossom necklace, that might be enough to make the case.”

  “Sounds interesting, but I have to follow the law and procedures,” Al said. “Don’t do anything that’ll hurt our case, suppress evidence, or get you arrested, bro.”

  “Do your best to have your team look the other way.”

  Al sighed. “And here I am, working with crazies, trying to salvage my career.”

  Charlie suspected it was more than that, but what could he say about Al’s loss of pride, of his reputation, that would help right now? “You’ll do just fine, brother. We’re both on the same team, we’re just running different plays.”

  “I’m leaving now,” Al said, putting his wrappers inside his empty drink cup. “Contact me through DuPree if the need arises.”

  Charlie nodded. “Have a good one,” he said in a normal voice as Al stood.

  “You too,” Al said, then walked away, throwing his wrapper in a trash can as he left the table area.

  Charlie finished his sandwich, then left the Walmart and walked over to a building materials warehouse on the same block. He went into the store, waited a few minutes looking at some paint chips, then exited out into the parking lot. Gordon pulled up and Charlie jumped inside the pickup.

  “Didn’t pick up on any surveillance, Charlie. How’d it go with Al?”

  “He didn’t know for sure who’d died until this morning, though he knew Steve was in a tight spot. Clarence Fasthorse had told Steve to take care of us. Al also saw Steve’s companions after the attack on us—without Steve. They traded secrets with Clarence, so it confirms that Mr. Fasthorse is connected with the Night Crew,” Charlie concluded as he drove them east across the Corrales Bridge.

  “You tell him what we plan to do?”

  “Yeah, he doesn’t like the idea, but didn’t offer any alternatives. He’s worried we’ll hurt the undercover operation.”

  Gordon shrugged. “Your brother’s a cop, so I wouldn’t expect DuPree or even Nancy to look at it any other way either. Closing these people down and catching a killer puts us on the same path as the cops, but we have to make sure we don’t do anything that’ll endanger any of the undercover people. We want it to look like a blend of personal and business rivalries. The one thing we don’t want to do is show any knowledge or interest in the Buck murder.”

  “Exactly. Let’s get back to work now and think about our first move.”

  * * *

  It was easy finding Clarence Fasthorse’s address through an Internet search. Next, they had to find out if he really lived there. The structure was a large, modern, flat-roofed two-story stucco and brick building that appeared to be the newest house on the block. It blended in well with the high-end homes in this old, affluent, near-downtown neighborhood.

  A dark blue SUV was parked along the curb and a red Mustang in the narrow driveway, visible just inside a metal remote-operated power gate. All this Charlie noted and photographed with a small digital camera as they passed by in Gordon’s pickup.

  “Okay, we’ve already got photos and vehicle tags for all the vehicles in the restaurant parking lot—which should include the employees currently at work. And we have these vehicles as well, now,” Charlie added. “Once we find out which vehicle Clarence drives and he leaves for the restaurant, we can check out his home more closely.”

  Gordon stopped at a red light and looked over. “That sexy little Mustang looked more like a chick car to me.”

  “Could be a girlfriend. If she’s living with him it might present a problem,” Charlie said. “We’ll have to find a time when nobody’s home. What if he has a housekeeper?”

  “All part of a good recon, Charlie. We may have to take a few days before the time is right—except for the GPS on his car. I’m betting he doesn’t travel alone, either, not with a crew at his disposal. He’ll have a bodyguard, maybe?”

  “Someone to help keep his people in line,” Charlie suggested. “Once we see him leave, we’ll look for the best time to place the tracker.”
>
  “Now we stake out the place and watch for activity. Where to park?” Gordon asked.

  “How about the home with the For Sale sign on the lawn? If anyone comes out, we’ll be interested, if not, we’ll stick around like we’re waiting for a Realtor.”

  “Yeah, and we can look up the place on a cell phone to get the right names and details.”

  They’d been there less than ten minutes when a man and a leggy, buxom, black-haired woman came out the front entrance, stopping by the gate for a quick kiss. The woman walked over to the Mustang, climbed in, and backed out as soon as the automatic gate opened. The man, dressed in slacks and a dress shirt, went back inside.

  “That was Clarence?” Gordon asked.

  “Yeah,” Charlie replied, lowering the small telescope, then collapsing it to the size of a pen before placing it into his pocket. “The woman looked to be a few years older than Fasthorse, but is good-looking and probably not the housekeeper.”

  “Maybe she’s a married girlfriend? It would explain the afternoon weekday visit,” Gordon suggested.

  “We’ll have a friend of ours look up the license plate and get us a name. If Mustang Sally doesn’t live here, we’ll have more opportunities to get inside.”

  “Once we get past his surveillance cameras,” Gordon pointed out.

  “One step at a time, Gordo. Here comes Clarence and his backup, bodyguard, or whatever,” Charlie said, glancing up into the passenger-side mirror of the pickup. He brought out his pocket telescope again and turned around for a look.

  “Tall, athletic black guy about thirty, short hair, shades, with the build of a basketball player, or end,” Charlie described. “Light sports jacket, probably to conceal a sidearm. Yeah, caught a glimpse of a holster.”

  “What’s Clarence carrying? A laptop?”

  “More like a tablet. Probably uses it at work, assuming he actually does run the restaurant,” Charlie added.

  “Let’s leave before he does. Based on the time of day and the suit jacket, he’s probably going to work the evening shift,” Gordon suggested, starting the engine. He had to wait a second for a passing vehicle before pulling out into the street.