Carter Peterson Mystery Series (Volume 1)

by Al Boudreau

  I laughed. “Yeah, it wasn’t like that. I gave him what we have so far. In turn, he offered the department’s support. It’s not a done deal by any stretch, but he’s looking into it.”

  “Something is better than nothing, right?”

  “Definitely. So, I’m calling about that random text you sent a couple hours ago.”

  “Random text?” Richard parroted, sounding confused.

  “Yeah. I think it said no problem. ”

  “I sent that message in response to your text to me, so I’m not sure what you mean by random,” Richard said.

  “I never sent you a text.”

  “What are you talking about? I’m looking right at it. Mrs. Odell will be stopping by with a cashier’s check. Make sure you give her the cash in return. Your name and number right at the top.”

  I pulled off the main road into an empty parking lot. “Please tell me you’re screwing with me right now.” I took a deep breath and heard nothing but silence from Richard. “I’m assuming she came by. And that you gave her the money.”

  “Shortly after I got your text,” Richard said.

  “You got a bogus check,” I said. “I never sent you a text.”

  Our conversation came to a dead stop for an uncomfortable period of time, followed by Richard’s stammering. “I … I don’t understand.”

  “Our phones are compromised,” I said. “I’m hanging up now.”

  I shut my phone down, popped the cover off the back, and pried the battery out. I tossed the pieces onto the seat beside me and nailed the accelerator, darting back out into the flow of traffic.

  I was thoroughly disgusted, with no one to blame but myself.

  I reviewed the afternoon’s events in my mind, half impressed and half pissed-off. It took me less than ten seconds to figure out what had probably happened.

  Our Ellis Odell impersonator had a narrow window of time alone in our suite, while I was at the accident scene, and Richard was busy in the john. Just enough time to find my cell phone in the bedroom and effectively clone the device using a SIM card duplicator. This would give him the ability to make calls, send texts, and access my contact list. Just as if he held my own phone in his hand.

  But there could be an upside to the situation. By sending Terri Odell to scoop up the substantial pile of cash left behind, our imposter may have given us a vital piece of information we couldn’t be sure about until now. If the check she’d handed Richard proved to be a fake, it would prove she was crooked, and in on the scam.

  Looking at the big picture, it was a trade-off that could work in our favor. I wouldn’t miss that pile of money as it was never really ours to begin with. After my chat with the sergeant, it was my understanding he fully expected the bag of cash to become another deposit in the Honolulu City & County Police Department’s evidence room. So, not only did the unexpected swap save me the trouble of having to transport a dangerous amount of currency across the island, but now we likely had hard evidence of fraud in the form of a counterfeit cashier’s check.

  I smiled as I recalled my words to the sergeant less than a half hour prior. Every single time I’ve chosen to do the right thing over the course of my career, the stars have aligned and it’s all worked out in the end.

  Chapter 12

  I awoke to the bedside alarm clock radio blaring more 80s music, the telephone ringing, and my lower back screaming at me thanks to the rock-hard hotel mattress. “Hello,” I said as I managed to turn down Bon Jovi’s Living on a Prayer. “Okay, thank you.”

  6 a.m. First time a desk clerk had ever called at the precise moment I’d asked to be woken up. Which almost made up for my desire to seek out chiropractic services.

  I got myself dressed and out the door in record time, hoping to purchase a burner phone in one of the airport’s duty-free shops before Sarah’s half-brother Andrew arrived from New Hampshire.

  And I needed coffee. Lots. Of. Coffee.

  A quick transaction at the front desk and I was on my way to arrivals at Honolulu International Airport. It was only a five-minute drive from where I’d spent the night, but it would take time to find a parking spot and get myself over to the proper terminal.

  As usual, I marveled at the sheer volume of people who traveled in the early hours as I approached the entrance to the parking garage. The airport was effectively mobbed.

  Which got me thinking about the drive back to Ko Ahiku and the traffic we’d have to deal with. Smack-dab in the thick of the morning rush. At least we were outside of the city, planning to head west. That fact alone might just knock a full hour off the 17-mile drive.

  I hoofed it across the busy access road leading to the various arrival pick-up points, almost losing a hip to a taxi driver who apparently wasn’t up on his pedestrian-in-the-crosswalk laws.

  I entered the building and fought to get upstairs against a tide of cranky travelers towing luggage behind them. It was entertaining to see the varied clothing choices each person had made, obvious tells as to where they’d flown in from. Sweaters and jackets from colder locales. Shorts and tees from the south.

  Trudging against the flow with more effort than it should have taken, I finally found a shop that sold cell phones. I scanned the shelves, but all I saw were expensive fad phones. I got in line to ask a clerk about where they hid the affordable devices.

  “Next, please,” I heard one of the kids behind the counter call out. I took a step toward the twenty-something employee when an elderly man with a walker cut the line, jockeying his rig around to effectively block my advance. I laughed and shook my head as the clerk glanced my way and shrugged. I wasn’t about to pitch a fit and challenge the old dude as I’d seen so many classless bullies do in similar situations in the past. As it turned out he was simply trying to pay for a newspaper.

  “What can I help you with, sir?” the clerk asked me after taking the man’s money.

  “I need a pre-paid cell phone. I didn’t see any on display.”

  “We just have one option,” he said as he bent down to grab a package from behind the counter. “Fifty-three dollars and forty-eight cents.”

  I gave the kid a look like he was crazy. “Seriously? The last one I bought was less than ten bucks. Same exact phone.”

  “Uh, sorry, sir,” he said with a shrug. “I just run the register. Still want it?”

  “Yeah, I really don’t have a choice,” I replied, knowing it would eat up too much time and energy to go somewhere else. I begrudgingly handed over three 20s. “I’ll need the sales receipt, please.”

  “Next,” he said as he passed the spoils of the store’s legal robbery over the counter to me.

  The digital clock on the wall read 6:28, so I stuffed the receipt and my change in the bag and headed down to the baggage claim area to find Andrew.

  I had no problem picking him out of the crowd, his features strikingly similar to Sarah’s. Brown hair, blue eyes, and a warm smile—though Andrew had a space between his two front teeth. I walked up behind him and put my hands on his shoulders. “I doubt you’ll be needing this sweater on Oahu.”

  “Hey. Carter. You’re here right on time, just like Sarah said you’d be.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t have many positive traits to brag about, but punctuality makes the list. How was the flight?” I asked.

  “Longest trip I’ve ever taken. Can’t say I enjoyed it much, though I caught a little shut-eye. Of course, I got stuck with the middle seat.”

  “Oh, brutal. Sorry to hear that. At least you were able to nap. I never sleep a wink on those big jets.”

  “It was tough, plus I think the airlines cut the leg room in coach by half since the last time I was on a plane. I may not leave the island now that I’m here.”

  “Yeah, lots of folks feel that way about Hawaii. Even the ones who have the luxury of flying first class.”

  “You know, if I make enough working for you, maybe I’ll buy a first-class ticket for the flight home,” Andrew said, looking excited.

&n
bsp; I felt a knot in the pit of my stomach; the conversation about money and our case came up sooner than I expected. “Let’s get your bags and get on the road. Then we can talk about all of that.”

  “Sounds great,” he said.

  “Sorry for not knowing this about you, but are you a coffee drinker?” I asked.

  “Big-time,” he replied. “I just cut back to six cups a day.”

  “Good,” I said. “I hope we can find a drive-through on our way out of here. I’m in dire need.”

  “Likewise. I made the mistake of saying yes to coffee on the flight. Still got that muddy aftertaste in my mouth. I need some good stuff to chase it down.”

  I paid the parking garage attendant and we headed out of the airport. “Think I’ll take a chance on the local roads to find a coffee shop, then get on the highway.”

  Andrew pulled out his phone. “Let me see what I can find.” Within a matter of seconds he said, “Take your second left up here on Keanu Street, then your third right onto Shimbakuro Ave. There should be a place called Haleiwa Joe two blocks down on the right. Says here they’ve got a handy drive-through.”

  “Nice work,” I said. “You’re pretty quick with your search skills on that phone.”

  “Lots of practice,” he replied. “Job hunting tends to sharpen your internet skills.”

  He’d managed to circle back to the work topic again, and I didn’t know him well enough to determine if it was intentional, or if he was simply making conversation. I had to give him the bad news about the dynamics of the case eventually, but I wasn’t going to bite. Not now. Not before charging my system with a heavy dose of caffeine.

  I wheeled into the line for the drive-through. “What’ll you have? I’m buying,” I said.

  “Thanks. A large black would be great.”

  Coffee in hand, I headed for Ko Ahiku.

  “Sarah tells me you’re pushing for her to take it easy for a while,” Andrew said.

  “That’s true,” I replied, wondering if he was for it or against it.

  “I haven’t had a chance to learn much about Sarah, being that we only discovered one another a short time ago. But she seems very independent,” Andrew said.

  “Yep. Sarah’s a capable woman.”

  “I think it was hard for her to send me off to Hawaii while she stayed behind. I look at Sarah and I see an adrenaline junkie behind those eyes.”

  “I’m not sure I’d go that far, but she’s definitely brave and full of fire.”

  Andrew nodded. “I don’t think I’d be quite as gung-ho about chasing bad guys after taking a bullet as she seems to be. Then again, I’ve had the misfortune of spending time around some real hard-core thugs.”

  I shook my head, unable to imagine being falsely accused and convicted of killing your own girlfriend, and having to serve jail time as an innocent man like Andrew had.

  “You’ll find, after getting to know her better, that Sarah’s not the kind of person who embraces taking steps backward. She’s a go-getter and has developed a taste for adventure with this investigator gig. That’s why assuming an office role now is tough for her. I think she views it as a demotion.”

  “I get that,” Andrew said. “Guess I’m that way, too. Onward and upward, you know?”

  “I do. And I’d never dictate any course of action to her. But, the less active she is right now, the more mobility she’ll have when she heals.”

  “Yeah, and I get the impression she understands all of that. But if she’s anything like me, there’s a stubborn streak working right below the surface.”

  I laughed and nodded. “Yeah, a little.”

  Just as I’d expected, traffic was a slow-moving mess as we made our way toward Ko Ahiku, a constant exercise of speeding up to about 20 miles an hour, only to brake back to a crawl. Fortunately, the coffee we’d picked up was hot, strong, and doing the trick. “I’d like to talk to you about what’s been happening here,” I said after having been on the road about fifteen minutes.

  “Great,” Andrew replied.

  “Unfortunately, we’ve had a major setback. The guy we thought was our client pulled a fast one on us. We now have reason to believe he’s an imposter. That being said, the case we’re here for has left me with a lot of questions, and no answers. We’re still going to look for the missing girl, but our compensation is gone.

  “Oh. Wow.”

  “Yeah. Wow is right,” I said. “We’ll be lucky to scrape together enough money to cover expenses. My point being, you have a decision to make. Unless circumstances change dramatically—and I’m talking a small miracle—all I can offer you is lodging and meals in exchange for your assistance.”

  “I’m in. I’ll take it.”

  I was stunned at how quickly and enthusiastically he’d responded. “Mind me asking why you’re not upset?”

  “Simple. I look at working with you as an opportunity to learn. Sarah already warned me the pay would be slim. I didn’t come here with the illusion of making a boatload of money.”

  “What about that comment you made earlier about buying a first-class ticket for your flight home?” I asked.

  “Oh, that’s just my odd sense of humor,” Andrew said. “I wasn’t serious. But I am serious about helping you in any way I can.”

  “OK,” I said, pleasantly surprised by how well he’d taken the news. “Then let me share a few more details with you about the case. We’re working with the Honolulu Police now, being that a man is dead. We think the victim may be the individual our imposter is impersonating. We also suspect the dead man’s wife might be involved. The imposter and the wife both asked us to look for this missing girl, Amber. And neither of them wanted us to go to the police. Now, we’re left with trying to work out how all of these angles relate.”

  “That’s pretty crazy. Are most of the cases you take this unpredictable?” Andrew inquired.

  “No, thankfully, they’re not. But not knowing what to expect is the nature of our business.”

  Andrew took his sweater off and tossed it onto the back seat. “Thank you, Carter.”

  “For what?” I asked.

  “I know you agreed to include me in this case as a favor to Sarah, but I want you to know how much I respect both of you, and what you do for a living. I know this is dangerous work. And I know I’m probably going to be in the way more often than I’ll be useful. So I want you to know how much I appreciate this opportunity. Not everyone gets the chance to work with a pro. Your experience and street smarts aren’t available in the curriculum I’d get signing up for a criminal justice program at some community college. I really value the hands-on aspect of this gig.”

  “Sarah tell you to say all that?” I asked with a smile.

  “Not exactly. Why do you ask?”

  “C’mon, Andrew. You sound just like her. You sure she didn’t coach you?”

  “Okay, maybe a little,” Andrew admitted. “We did talk about it. But my appreciation is from the heart. I don’t take any of this lightly.”

  “Good. Because that’ll get you killed faster than anything. The work we do is no joke. The convicts you had to deal with when you were incarcerated … they ended up there, in large part, because of the work investigators do. Not every case has an element of danger, but most do.”

  “Yeah, I get that. Sarah is living proof.”

  “That she is. All I ask is that you pay full attention while we do what we do. I need to know you have my back. And you can count on me to have yours. It might make all the difference at some point.”

  “I understand,” Andrew said.

  I looked over at Andrew. “Okay, well, here’s your first lesson,” I said as I turned the radio off. “Investigations are boring most of the time. Stakeouts, research, tips that don’t pan out, dealing with people who tell you nothing but lies. Those experiences can suck the life right out of you. But those are the pieces of the puzzle that eventually get results. Chasing people around with guns like they do on TV and in the movies is nothing but pu
re fantasy. Having someone point a gun at you is just plain scary.” I took a sip of my coffee, recalling a few situations I’d like to forget.

  “No one wants to admit they had to empty their britches out at the end of a run-in with some lunatic waving around a loaded weapon. But it’s way more accurate than the roles some of these so-called heroes play. Anyone who is looking for that kind of experience should go to school for acting, because they’re not going to get it being a private detective. Or a cop. Nothing exciting or romantic about what we do.”

  Andrew gave me a serious look. “I appreciate what you’re getting at—so please don’t take what I’m about to say the wrong way—but I have a specific reason for wanting to follow this career path.” Andrew paused and stared out the passenger-side window for a few seconds. “When I thought I’d lost my girlfriend to some psychopath, I hit a low deeper than I’d ever experienced. Then, as you well know, I got sent to prison for her murder. And though I was inside for a short period of time, it was hell on earth. Carter, I believe, with all my heart, I’d still be in there if it wasn’t for your detective work. You and Sarah came through for me. And though I’ve done my best to show my appreciation for you two helping to prove my innocence, it never feels like it’s enough.”

  I looked over at Andrew after hearing his voice crack. He was staring out the side window again. I couldn’t tell whether or not his emotions had gotten the better of him, so I kept my mouth shut until he was ready to continue.

  “I know it takes time to heal from betrayal, but … I feel anger every day. If I pursue a career that gives me the opportunity to help someone the way you and Sarah helped me, maybe I can start healing. You know, give me a sense of purpose.”

  I was at a loss for words, pretty much blown away by his honesty and the fact he’d really worked out the why in his head and heart. “Uh, wow. That’s … a good reason.”

  “I need to keep busy, Carter. It’s the only way I’m going to get past this nightmare and get myself right. So, again, thanks for taking a chance on me. I’m ready to give it my all.”

  I reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “I believe you. And I believe you’re going to be a natural, just like Sarah.”