by Chad Zunker
“Get to the other part already,” Larue suggested.
“Yeah, so, we was just talking a bit, see, and then the guy asks me if I’d be interested in making a thousand dollars. I thought he was wanting a trick or something, so I was like, nah, dude, I don’t do that. But he said it wasn’t anything like that. He asked me if I’d heard about the guy who was murdered by the homeless dude in the alley over here. I was, like, yeah, man, I done heard. Everyone knows about it. Then he says he’ll give me a thousand cash if I’ll go to the police, tell them I was in the alley where it all happened the other night, and that I saw that homeless guy straight up shoot the man.”
David felt a shot of adrenaline race up his spine. “What did you tell him?”
“I said I didn’t want no trouble with the police. But he said I wouldn’t get in any trouble. He’d give me everything I’d need. A photo of the shooter, a description. I just had to stick with the script, and I’d get paid. Then he pulled five hundred bucks out of his pocket, said I could have it right there. And I would get the rest of the cash when I followed through with everything.”
“Tell him what happened next, bro,” Larue said, clearly eager to get to it.
“I turned the dude down again. See, I have a warrant out for me for petty theft back in El Paso, so I ain’t looking to mess around with no police. I don’t even want them to know about me being here. This guy gets real pissed, pulls out a gun, and sticks it right in my face. He says to me if I tell anyone about our conversation, he’ll come find me again and put a bullet in my skull. I swear I won’t say nothing, so he finally leaves me alone.”
“What did the guy look like, Skater?” David asked.
Skater shrugged his frail shoulders. “Probably about your age, I dunno, but around the same height as you. He was bald, though, with kind of a scruffy beard.”
“What was he wearing?”
“Like a black jacket, I think, and, like, black combat boots.”
Combat boots? David thought about the man who’d attacked him inside his office the other night. He’d had a beard and wore combat boots. “Anything else?”
Skater pointed to side of his head right above the eyebrow. “Yeah, the dude had a white bandage on his head right about here above his eye.”
David cursed. The same place where he’d swung the beer bottle to get the guy off him. Who was he? “Why did you come tell Larue after this guy threatened you with a gun to keep your mouth shut?”
Skater shrugged again. “Larue’s my boy, see? Simple as that. Larue’s been good to me ever since I got to town a few months back. Always making sure I find something to eat and stay in the right places. Larue has been asking around for help on this deal with the Rebel dude, so I came and told him.”
“You did real good, Skater,” Larue commended him. “We got to look out for each other.”
“I appreciate this info,” David agreed. “Will you let Larue know if you see this guy around again?”
“Sure, man. I ain’t going to forget that face anytime soon.”
THIRTY-FIVE
Back in his office, David researched local bands and tried to find a heavy-metal group who called themselves Dragon Puppets. He had no luck with puppets but did find a band called Dragon Parrots. A crappy website showed them to be three young guys with long grungy hair who dressed in all black. There was some fantasy artwork of a weird dragon-parrot creature on the website’s home page. David found a drummer named Scott Harrison. It had to be the same guy Alicia mentioned Mia had been dating. He clicked on a web page for upcoming shows. The band was scheduled to play in Houston tonight but were back in Austin for a show tomorrow night.
David wondered if Mia could possibly be with the band right now. He quickly typed out a message to a booking email listed on the website, claimed he was a lawyer representing a major music label, and that he needed to speak with a band member ASAP. David then found what looked like the same Scott Harrison listed on Facebook and sent him a similar direct message. Grabbing his phone, he also called the bar where they were scheduled to play tonight in Houston and left a voice mail in the same vein—he needed someone from the band to call him back right away. He was exhausting every possible avenue to locate Mia Martinez.
David turned and looked out the window over a busy Congress Avenue. He again thought about the man who’d tried to bribe Skater into coming forward and directly lie about Rebel being the shooter. Who was he? David figured he was getting close to the truth, and someone was beginning to panic. Who was that someone? And what was that truth? He was juggling so many unknowns.
David spun back toward his desk when his cell phone buzzed. He hoped it might be a return call from one of the many messages he’d just sent out to the band. It wasn’t—but it made him perk up just the same. A direct call from the same anonymous phone number who’d given him the news article about Eduardo Martinez and had sent him on the wild-goose chase to the hotel bar yesterday.
He hurried to answer it. “Hello?”
It was quiet on the other end. But he thought he could hear nervous breathing.
“Hello?” he repeated. “You there?”
A timid woman’s voice. “Did you find out who the two men were in the hotel bar yesterday?”
“Well, I was actually hoping you could tell me.”
“You couldn’t identify either guy?”
“Yes, one so far. The lawyer, Barksdale. You know him?”
“What about the other man?”
David figured that she’d so easily dismissed his revelation about Barksdale because she already knew him. There was a connection there that immediately got his mind spinning. “I’m still working on it. Who are you? How did you know about the meeting yesterday?”
“I’d rather not say. I just . . . I don’t know what to do right now.”
David pondered a possibility. “Mia?”
“Who is Mia?”
David could tell by her flat response that the woman on the other end wasn’t Mia Martinez. “No one. Can I get your name?”
A long pause. “Charlotte.”
David scribbled down the name on his notepad but questioned its authenticity.
“Are you okay, Charlotte? Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“No, I’m not okay.”
“Why?”
“Someone has been following me.”
“Why would someone be following you?”
“I think they suspect I know something more about Luke Murphy.”
David felt his heart start to race. “Do you?”
She sighed but didn’t respond.
“Charlotte, who is they? You said they suspect.”
“I can’t sleep,” she replied, ignoring his question. “I can hardly eat right now; my stomach is turned in so many knots. This is a nightmare.”
“I want to help you, believe me. But I need you to tell me more.”
Again, she didn’t respond. David was getting frustrated.
“Please talk to me,” he begged her. “I can meet you somewhere right now.”
“I’m sorry, David. I don’t think I can do this anymore.”
“Wait . . .”
She abruptly hung up. David cursed. But he immediately yanked his laptop closer to him, pulled up the website for Barksdale’s law firm, Sewell & Merritt. He clicked on a link for Attorneys and typed in a search for the name Charlotte. No one with that first name popped up. David then began scanning individual profiles for each female attorney listed with the firm’s Austin office—thirty-seven of them. He’d nearly scanned the full list without finding anyone of interest when he suddenly paused on the face of a twentysomething woman with dark hair and the most engaging green eyes. The mysterious KP. The same woman from the second security video who was with Murphy at the Dirty Dog—and who had followed him into the alley the night of his death. The same woman who had confronted David on the sidewalk outside the county jail.
He’d finally found her. Or she’d found him.
K
ate Preston.
THIRTY-SIX
The law firm of Sewell & Merritt occupied the top three floors of the historic Littlefield Building at Sixth and Congress. David waited in the modest lobby of the building that afternoon, hoping for an opportunity to privately engage Kate Preston should she at some point walk out of one of the building’s three elevators. He wasn’t sure what else to do at this point. He had to somehow convince Kate to talk to him. But she was clearly scared, so David knew he had to be careful about it. He couldn’t just take the elevator up to the lobby of Sewell & Merritt and request a meeting with her. Not if one of her colleagues was somehow involved in Murphy’s death.
He also couldn’t sit around and do nothing. Kate was a central piece to his figuring out what really happened the night that Rebel was in the alley with Murphy. Hell, his entire case might be tied up in what she knew. So he sat in a leather chair in the corner of the small lobby, a magazine up in his face, casually hiding his identity, while surveying the various people who came in and out of the building all afternoon. So far, no Kate Preston. He knew she was currently in the office. He’d called the firm’s main number earlier, asked for Kate, and hung up when she answered. His quick research on Kate told him she’d gone to Clemson before getting her law degree from the University of Virginia. She’d joined Sewell & Merritt straight out of law school just a year ago—right around the same time David had joined Hunter & Kellerman. Kate’s profile page said she focused on advising clients on general corporate practice, including mergers and acquisitions. Other online searching showed she’d played soccer while at Clemson, where she’d earned Second Team All-Conference her senior year.
David had also run several online searches trying to somehow group Murphy and Kate together but came up with nothing. There was at least no official online record of them doing anything together, workwise or personal. So what was the connection? David again wondered if they could’ve been having some sort of secret affair. Kate was a very attractive woman. Could that have been the reason she became intertwined in this whole thing? He hoped to find that out—if she ever walked out of the elevators.
The Littlefield Building had limited parking, which meant most who worked inside had to park nearby in paid lots or garages. Chances were good that Kate would eventually step out into the lobby. She finally did around five that afternoon. She wore a knee-length black skirt, black heels, and a white blouse covered by a black leather jacket. She seemed to be leaving the building by herself, which was good. David planted his face in his phone, knowing that Kate would recognize him. He didn’t want that to happen yet. Not until he was somewhere safer with her where they could talk privately.
David waited until Kate hit the outside doors, then jumped from the chair and quickly followed. The sidewalks were busy with people as numerous surrounding buildings began emptying out for the evening. That made it easy for David to trail Kate without being spotted. She followed the sidewalk up to Congress and then moved north toward the Texas Capitol building. David followed closely behind, wondering where Kate was going. She had her purse with her but no briefcase or bag, which led him to believe she’d be returning to the office. As he knew all too well, a corporate lawyer rarely goes home at this hour.
A large group of people stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn. David paused five people behind Kate. He watched as her head pivoted left, right, and back left again, as if she were studying those around her. Who was she looking for? Who would be following her? David jerked back out of view when Kate turned to glance all the way behind her. The walk light appeared, and the mass of people began crossing the street. Kate peeled off and entered Royal Blue Grocery, a small store where downtowners could pick up the essentials. David had been in the store often. He paused at the outside window, took a peek inside. Kate grabbed a small basket and made her way to the back of the store. David figured this was his best chance to engage her. He had no idea what was about to happen but knew he had to start taking calculated risks.
Pushing through the main door, he did a quick scan of the store. Several shoppers were at the checkout counter. A few others were roaming about. None of them seemed to be watching Kate. David took a deep breath, maneuvered through the aisles, found Kate off by herself, picking through various cold sandwich options from a refrigerated shelf. He sidled up next to her.
“Roast beef is their best sandwich,” he said, trying to be casual.
She looked over at him.
“Hi, Kate,” he said with a small grin.
Her eyes went wide. “What . . . what are you doing here?”
“We need to talk,” David whispered.
“How did you find me?”
“I connected a few dots. Please don’t freak out.”
“I can’t do this here.”
“Then where?”
Her eyebrows bunched. “I can’t do this at all. I already told you that.”
“You were with Luke Murphy the night he died. I need to know why.”
“How do you know that?”
“I have a security video from one of the bars. It shows you following Murphy into the alley. Right after you were sitting with him at the Dirty Dog.”
Kate covered her mouth with a trembling hand. “Who else has seen that?”
“I don’t know. Let’s just sit down and talk in private.”
“I can’t.”
“Kate, I have a client facing a death sentence here.”
“I know . . . I just . . .” Kate peered over toward the front of the store when the main door opened. A man in a brown jacket entered. “I can’t, David. I’m sorry. They could be watching us right now.”
“Who, Kate? Who is watching us?”
“The same people who killed Luke!”
With that, Kate dropped her basket to the floor, brushed right past David, and hurried toward the front of the store.
“Kate, wait!”
Pulling the main door open, Kate ducked into heavy sidewalk traffic again. David rushed outside behind her, watched in dismay as she darted in and out of the crowd and then completely disappeared.
THIRTY-SEVEN
David huddled with Thomas back at the office that evening.
“She just ran away?” his partner asked him.
“Basically. She refused to talk to me.”
“I thought you were good with the ladies.”
“Not this one.”
Standing at his office window, David watched as the sun set on the city. He’d already tried to call the phone number Kate had used to contact him, but the phone was no longer in service. Kate had apparently shut it down. It was a bad sign if she was now severing all communication with him.
Thomas sat in a guest chair and scanned photos on David’s cell phone of Barksdale and the other man sitting at the hotel bar.
“You still have no idea about this other guy?” Thomas asked.
David turned, shrugged. “No clue. He’s not a lawyer over at Sewell and Merritt. I’ve searched their entire database. And Kate acted like she didn’t know him. She clearly wanted to know who he was, so he must be connected to all of this somehow. I’ve thought about confronting Barksdale directly. But if Kate is truly in some kind of danger, I don’t want to do something stupid.”
“I know a couple of guys over at Sewell and Merritt. Maybe I could show them this photo and see if anything turns up.”
“It’s worth a shot,” David replied. “I’m kind of desperate here.”
“So are others, it seems. You know how I’ve been getting the runaround with the city about gaining access to their camera footage? Well, there’s a reason behind it. They’ve been instructed from the top to stall and redirect.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just got off the phone with a guy who works in the city’s Public Information Office. Our daughters play soccer together. I told him my situation at practice the other day, and he said he’d look into it for me. He called to tell me a buddy of his who works directly
with the cameras privately told him about the stalling. Said although it didn’t come down through any official channels, it was made clear to everyone by their superiors that they were to not play nice with us. We were even addressed by name.”
“Are you serious? Can he find out who was behind these instructions?”
“I’m not going to push. I could tell he wasn’t too comfortable even sharing this info with me. He didn’t want to get himself or anyone else in trouble. What the hell is going on here, David? We’ve got someone breaking into our office in the middle of the night and busting you up real good. And probably the same guy out on the streets, trying to bribe a homeless kid into lying in court. We’ve got Dana telling you the DA is getting pressure from the outside to get rid of this case. And now city employees are being told to hide pertinent information from us?”
“Sounds like you’ve finally jumped into the conspiracy boat with me.”
“Yeah, I’m definitely in the boat now. But I don’t like it one bit.”
“Me, neither. I’ve got to find Mia Martinez.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
David’s phone buzzed by his ear, waking him. The dog was curled up at his feet on the sofa, snoring away. David rolled over, found his phone, stared at the screen with blurry eyes. Two thirty? It was a local number but not anyone in his phone contacts.
He answered with a curt “What?”
There was no response. He pulled the phone away from his ear, looked to see if he had a signal. Everything seemed okay.
“Who is this?” he asked, his eyes barely staying open.
Sandy kicked at him, growing more annoyed by the interruption. David could hear nervous breathing. Someone was there. Could it be . . . ?
