by Jenna Baker
I awoke to the sound of knocking at my door. “Sharpe, it’s Reid. You awake?”
I gasped and ran over to the mirror. I had been dreaming about Reid stopping by, and now he really was. My hair was a disaster and my breath was in serious need of refreshment. “Um, just a minute,” I said. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and quickly brushed my teeth. I pinched my cheeks to give them that natural pink glow and wiped the sleep out of my eyes. I was wearing my two-piece pink cotton pajamas. The top was a loose-fitting, button-down short sleeved shirt and the bottom was shorts. I gave my legs a quick check. I had shaved them maybe two days ago and they weren’t in great shape, but there was nothing I could do about it now. I cursed myself for not being more prepared.
“Sharpe, what’s going on in there?” Reid asked through the door.
“Coming!” I said. I glanced at the clock as I ran over to the door. It was eleven thirty. I had gone upstairs around ten, so Reid must have been trying to work up the nerve for quite a while. I smoothed out my clothes and opened my door, leaning seductively against the door jamb. I smiled. “Hi.”
Reid glanced at me up and down. “Kitt’s dead.”
My face dropped. “What?”
“PD just called it in – bullet to the face. I want to get down there right away.”
I was in total shock. Here I was expecting a booty call, and instead, I was finding out the guy I had once thought was pretty sexy was dead.
“Why don’t I help you pack up your stuff – we need to get out of here,” Reid said.
I stood still, paralyzed, still processing everything. On the one hand, this was huge for the story. This proved that we were right and that Chaser wasn’t just run down randomly. On the other hand, I couldn’t be happy that someone else was killed, and I couldn’t help but wonder if someone else was next. Reid placed a hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, yeah,” I said, snapping out of it.
Reid walked past me and threw my suitcase on the bed. He started opening the drawers of my dresser and dumping the contents into the bag. I sat down on the edge of the bed and watched him in silence.
Reid opened the top dresser drawer and grabbed my bra and panties. I knew he was trying to be nice and not to invade my privacy, but I saw the smirk on his face when he saw the cotton days-of-the-week underpants I got at the dollar store. He dumped them into the suitcase and then went into the bathroom to get my toiletries.
I think it was the panties that drew me back into reality, and I realized I was just sitting on the bed doing nothing when I should have been getting dressed. I grabbed my jeans and a t-shirt out of the suitcase and walked into the bathroom. Reid was throwing all my stuff in a bag.
“I can do that. I’ll meet you downstairs in a few, okay?” I said.
“You sure you’re okay? You seem a little out of it.”
“I was just surprised and I’m tired, that’s all.”
Reid walked past me and out of the room. I walked into the bathroom and quickly changed. I realized I was still wearing my Saturday panties. Thank goodness Reid hadn’t come for a booty call – I would have humiliated myself!
When I got down to the lobby, all of the guys were down there already. Foxy had a big grin on his face, and his wife Sherry was standing next to him.
“You must be Sherry,” I said to her, walking over to shake her hand. “I’m Vicky.”
“You’re Sharpe?” Sherry said, not smiling.
“Yes, Victoria Sharpe.”
Sherry gave me a good, long once-over. I suddenly felt like I was naked. She shook her head when she spoke. “I usually call Reid the other woman in Foxy’s life. Now it looks like I have a real live one to worry about.”
I wasn’t sure if she was joking or being serious, but she seemed agitated. Maybe sex did that to her. “Ah, I wouldn’t worry too much,” I said, smiling.
“Why not? Don’t you find my husband attractive?”
Foxy placed a hand on Sherry’s shoulder. “Sherry, come on. She’s in love with Reid.”
“I am not!” I corrected.
“I asked you a question,” Sherry said, glaring at me.
Foxy was such a funny guy, I figured she had to be putting me on. “You’re Sherry Pie, right? I mean, with a name like that, I thought you’d be a little nicer.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sherry said, moving her head back and forth like a bobble-head doll. “I should thank you for calling my husband a fat disgusting troll, right?”
“Um, I’m pretty sure I didn’t say that.”
“Yeah, but you thought it.”
“No, I didn’t!”
“Lima bean!” Foxy called out.
I guessed that was their code word for “you’re acting crazy,” because Sherry instantly softened. It was almost like she was hypnotized and “lima bean” was the only phrase that could free her.
“Oh, excuse me. Sorry about that.” She cleared her throat. “I understand you are responsible for these deluxe accommodations.”
“Oh, yeah. It’s not really me, it’s the production,” I said.
“Well, we enjoyed ourselves, didn’t we, sugar?” Sherry said to Foxy sweetly. He nuzzled her neck and whispered something that made her laugh. This was a Jekyll and Hyde moment if ever I saw one.
Sherry looked at me and then turned and kissed Foxy full on the mouth, tongue and everything. It was like she was bragging to me that he belonged to her. It was nice that she thought her husband was that desirable, but I was definitely not interested. I actually found their display kind of disgusting.
“I’m gonna ride down there with Sher, okay, Reid?” Foxy said.
Reid picked up his bag and headed towards the door. Before he got outside, he stopped and turned. “Sharpe, you riding with me?”
My heart skipped a beat, and I knew the damage Mac had done wasn’t too bad. “Yes, coming,” I said, running after him. “I’ll meet you guys down there,” I called back to a tired-looking Mac and Manny.
I threw my bag in the trunk of Reid’s car and jumped in the front seat. Reid sat in the driver’s seat and turned on the car.
“That was weird, huh?” I said to Reid.
“What, Sherry? Yeah, she’s a little psycho sometimes. She gets jealous of me too.”
“Are you okay to drive?” I asked. “You must be exhausted.”
“Yeah, I’m okay, but I need someone to talk to me to keep me alert. I figured I could count on your big mouth to entertain me.”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” I asked.
Reid shrugged. “We gotta find Rose.” He picked up his cell phone and made a call. “Yeah, I need to put a BOLO out for Rosario Ortez. R-O-S-A-R-I-O O-R-T-E-Z.” Reid nodded and hung up.
“What’s a BOLO?” I asked.
“It’s a be-on-the-lookout – we need to haul her in, she knows something.”
“Do they have any suspects for Kitt?”
“I don’t know – I don’t have a lot of information.”
“Where did it happen?”
“Outside the track – in the parking lot.”
“Well, someone must have seen something,” I said.
“That’s what I’m banking on.”
Reid pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He waved the pack at me, but I declined.
“I forgot you smoked,” I said.
“It’s just to stay awake.” Reid rolled down the window and lit up. We didn’t speak for the next twenty minutes. I knew I wasn’t helping matters with my silence, but I had too many thoughts running through my mind. Had Rose done this? Maybe someone knew that we knew about the Mexican operation and wanted to take Kitt’s place. Maybe Kitt knew who Chaser’s killer was and the killer wanted to take out everyone involved. Rose could be the killer or the next victim. There were so many ifs, and I needed hard facts for my story. I debated calling Lenny but decided to wait until I had more information. Besides, it was late, and I’d already gotten him back for waking me
up in the middle of the night. I didn’t need to do it to him again.
I glanced over at Reid and saw that his eyes were droopy and that his head kept dropping down over his chest. “Do you want me to drive?” I asked.
Reid shook his head, trying to fight off the sleep. “No, I’m okay. We’ll stop for coffee in a little while.”
I knew I had to keep him awake or both of us would end up lying in a ditch off the road somewhere. “Did I ever tell you about the time I posed in a line-up?”
Reid smiled. “Posed? It’s not a modeling gig, Sharpe.”
“Posed, participated, whatever. Anyway, I was in college and the cops paid me twenty bucks to stand in a line-up for them.”
“Who were they looking for?”
I paused. “A hooker.”
Reid laughed out loud. “You’re lucky the victim didn’t finger you.”
“I know, I was shaking in my boots the whole time. My mother had cut my allowance and I needed beer money for the week. Actually, it was wine money – I was kinda classy in those days.”
“So you pretended to be a hooker to maintain your highbrow lifestyle?”
“Exactly,” I said. “Did you go to college?”
“Yeah, for like two years. I knew I wanted to be a cop, but my mother wouldn’t hear of having an uneducated son.”
“Did you go to USC or UCLA?”
“UCLA. You’re USC, right?” Reid asked.
I nodded. UCLA was more of a school for jocks, and USC had all the film geeks. “Did you go to private school when you were growing up?”
“Does anyone in LA go to public school?” Reid asked.
“I think some people do.”
“Not if they have parents like we do. Did you know that my mother held auditions for my first date? I was in seventh grade and we had a dance at a hotel in Beverly Hills. I was too chicken to ask any of the girls out that I liked, so my mother hired an actress and paid her scale for the night.”
I laughed. “Oh, that’s funny. Was she hot?”
“Yeah, she was hot. She was also like eighteen and I was thirteen. I felt like I was on a date with an escort.”
“Well, you were.”
“All the guys in my class were so jealous – I never told them who she really was. And then after the dance I told them that I dumped her. That made me a hero and I was Mister Popular after that.”
“You don’t seem like someone who would like all that attention.”
“I’m not, but it beat the alternative. Plus I finally got up the nerve to ask out the girl I wanted to.”
“And did she say yes?”
“Of course, Sharpe, come on.”
“Oh, excuse me.”
“But she dumped me a week later and then she became the popular one.”
“That’s how it goes, right? I used to beg my mom to take me to work with her when she was interviewing a new teen heartthrob I had a crush on. It was the same every time – she would introduce him to me, I would turn brick red and lock up. I was lucky if I could get out the word ‘hello.’”
“You? Shy? I don’t buy it.”
“I’m not shy but I definitely get starstruck. You’d think that I would get used to meeting celebrities in this town, but I never did.”
“I took the easy way out and told my parents I didn’t care about meeting celebrities; I was too cool. Do you remember that show Hot Girl? My mom tried to introduce me to the star – the actual Hot Girl – and I refused to meet her. Can you believe that?”
“Yeah, but weren’t a lot of your neighbors celebrities? I mean, they had kids right?”
“Not really,” Reid said. “At that time in Hollywood, pregnancy was career suicide.”
“I know. My mother hit it big after my sister and I were born, but even so, she’d never let on to anyone that she had kids. She finally started talking about us when we were like ten and twelve and weren’t regarded as people who would compromise her career.”
“Is your job like that too?” Reid asked.
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “I mean, there are no set hours – I can’t exactly be like, ‘I’m sorry, victims, can you get murdered between the hours of nine and five so I can get my baby from daycare?’ You know?”
“Yeah, my job is like that too.”
“I guess we both need to marry rich so we don’t have to work. How big is your trust fund?” I asked.
Reid looked at me and smiled. “It’s decent. So I’ll stay home and you can continue to work.”
“You’ll stay home with the baby?”
“And the nanny.”
“Okay, that’s fair, just as long as the nanny is some sixty-year-old grandmother.”
“Oh man, I was thinking more like an eighteen-year-old import from Brazil.”
I shook my head and smiled. “Since we’re planning to marry, I think there is something we need to get out in the open.”
Reid placed an arm behind the headrest on my seat and looked at me. “What’s that?”
“I know you saw my days-of-the-week underwear.”
Reid burst out laughing. “I was caught a little off guard.”
“I had to pick something up in a hurry after I got the spray tan because my old underpants turned orange, and you can’t just buy one day, you have to buy the whole week. Plus they ended up being really comfortable.”
Reid patted my back. “It’s okay, Sharpe. I hadn’t seen those in a while – I thought they were cute.”
“Uh-huh, well, I just wanted you to know that I don’t normally wear those.”
“Oh yeah, what type do you usually wear?” Reid asked, smiling.
I felt my whole face turn red, and I shook my head. “Never mind.”
We pressed on for another hour or so and reached the race track at two in the morning. We were tired, but the conversation definitely helped keep us going. We pulled into the parking lot of the race track to see several cop cars and the ME team truck. There was a lot of caution tape hung around, and a high-powered spotlight was shinning down on Kitt who was laying face-up on the ground. We got out of the car and I followed Reid to the scene.
“Wait, wait!” I called to Reid. “I’m sorry, can we just wait for the film crew before you go in?”
Reid sighed deeply and I felt terrible. I knew how tired we both were and how badly he wanted to just get this over with, but I had to do my job. Reid threw his hands up in the air. Luckily Mac and Manny pulled in five minutes later with Foxy right behind them. Manny mic’d the cops quickly and before I knew it, they were charging onto the scene with the crew and me chasing behind them.
Reid lifted the caution tape and walked over to the body. The medical examiner was crouched down over the victim. I looked down at Kitt’s mangled face. It looked like a pepperoni pizza, only the pepperonis were holes from bullets. There were at least two that I could see. I could feel myself getting lightheaded and before I knew it, I was dry heaving. I felt Reid’s arm around me. He turned me around and passed me off to Manny.
“Take care of her, okay?” Reid said.
“Sharpe, go wait in the car,” Manny said.
“No, I’m fine,” I told him.
“Then keep your back to the stiff, okay, chica? You can lean against me if you want.”
That sounded like a good idea to me. I turned around, took a few deep breaths, and listened to the audio through Manny’s extra set of headphones.
“I’m Detective Bradley Reid and this is Detective Dustin Flanagan,” Reid announced to the ME.
“John Wainwright,” the ME said.
“Do we have a time of death?” Reid asked.
“I’m guessing around eleven o’clock, but there are some witnesses over there that the uniforms rounded up, you can ask them.”
“Can you give us the make of the weapon?” Foxy asked.
“Yeah, these are thirty-eights. The weapon was a Ruger handgun fired at close range. There are two in his face, but we found casings for four bullets total. I’d say the shooter was
maybe ten feet away. This poor soul never had a chance.”
As the ME described what happened to Kitt, I could visualize every detail. I wondered if he knew the killer and whether he saw it coming. Could Rose have done this? She was tough, but I didn’t know if she was tough enough to shoot a man in the face at close range.
Manny tapped me. “We’re moving,” he said.
I turned and followed the crew as they followed Reid and Foxy over to some uniformed cops sipping coffee outside of their vehicle. The back door was open, and two men were seated inside. One of them looked familiar to me, and I figured I must have seen him at the track. He was dressed in black tight jeans and a red and black flannel shirt. He had black spiky hair and looked like he belonged in a rock band. The other guy had long wavy hair and was wearing a pair of oversized blue jeans and a large t-shirt. He had more of the skater look, and he had an “x” tattooed on his hand. I knew from my youth that this meant he was drug free, alcohol free, and I couldn’t remember the third thing – either sex or cigarettes. I knew I wouldn’t be getting an “x” tattooed on my hand any time soon. I could do without the drugs and the cigarettes and probably even the sex, but the alcohol was a must.
The two cops standing outside the car looked like they just wanted to be done with this investigation.
“Are you the responding officers?” Foxy asked one of the cops.
The cop he addressed had a short military style crew-cut, while the other cop had more of a scruffy look. They were actually an odd duo – one seemed like he was probably in the Marines and took neatness and order seriously, while the shaggy one looked like he slept in a different bed each night. Looking at the contrast, I felt strangely disappointed that I hadn’t been assigned to this pair. Then again, I had developed quite a liking for Foxy and Reid.
“Yes sir,” The neat cop began. “Dispatch received a call at twenty-three hundred hours from a witness reporting a gang-like execution. They reported that the victim was walking off the race track when a vehicle sped around the corner and fired several shots at the victim.”
“And these are your witnesses?” Foxy asked, pointing in the car.
“Yes sir. You can get their accounts if you’d like. I’ve already interviewed them and I can provide you with my notes if needed,” the neat cop said.
“Thank you – um…”
“Officer Mike Wallace,” he said.
“Thank you, Officer Wallace, that won’t be necessary. If I have any questions I will contact you.”
“Does that mean we can go? We ain’t getting any younger here,” the scruffy cop said.
“Yeah, just get the witnesses out of your back seat,” Foxy said.
“Are we on television?” Mike Wallace asked.
Foxy snapped his fingers in the air and signaled me. “Sharpe, get these guys released, okay?”
I pulled some releases out of my purse and gave my spiel to the cops. I was impressed with Foxy – he was learning the television rules and wasn’t messing around. He said the words with such authority the cops thought they had to sign. I got them released and they went on their merry way.
Reid told me that he needed to separate the witnesses in order to get proper testimony, so I ran back to the car to grab the PD-150. Reid pulled aside the skateboarder, whom I learned was named Plex, while Foxy, Mac, and Manny covered the rocker, who was named Georgie.
“Listen I know it’s late, and I’ll try to get you out of here shortly. Just tell me what you saw tonight,” Reid began.
“Kitt just finished up a race. It was the last one of the night so we stuck around for a while to shoot the shit.”
“Who was there – you and who else?” Reid asked.
“Just me, Kitt and Georgie. We were drinking beers and then around eleven we came out to the parking lot. That’s when I saw it – a blur of yellow and black coming towards us.”
I glanced at Reid at the mention of the black and yellow car, but he didn’t let on that he knew anything.
“Did you recognize the car?” Reid asked.
“Recognize it? It was a freaking taxi cab.”
“A what?” Reid asked.
“A cab, dude, a checkered cab.”
Reid looked back at me. We were shocked, and I knew we were both trying to mentally replay what that first ME had told us about the yellow and black paint chips. Had he said it was a race car or had we just assumed it was?
“All right, keep going,” Reid said.
“So the cab comes blazing in with the window on the passenger’s side down. Next thing I know a gun comes out of the window and they start firing. I dove right, but they didn’t follow me – they wanted Kitt. They got him twice in the face and then screamed out something in Spanish. Then they took off.”
“Could you get a plate or a medallion number or anything?” Reid asked.
“No, dude, I was too busy cradling my balls – you know what I’m saying? I didn’t know what the hell happened or even that Kitt was down until after they left.”
“Would you be able to describe the shooter?”
“Dude was Spanish, I know that much. But he had like a bandana over his nose and mouth. He looked like a gang-banger, but I’ve never heard of no gang-bangers riding around in taxis.”
“How about the driver?”
“He was covered too. But they were Spanish, dude, definitely Spanish. One of them had long hair – kind of like Georgie’s hair, but more curly.”
“Are you sure they were men? Could either one have been a woman?”
Plex considered that for a while. Finally he shrugged. “Maybe, dude, but I don’t think so. Looked like a guy to me.”
“Did Kitt say anything to you that made you think he was in danger?” Reid asked.
“Like ‘I think some crazy Mexican cabbies are gonna kill me’? No, dude.”
“Did he tell you about anything he was into that was illegal?”
Plex shot Reid a crazy look. “You’re a cop, right? I’m not stupid here.”
Reid’s face tightened. “Look, I don’t give a shit about you or what you might be doing. I am trying to solve a murder here, dude, so if you know something, tell me. Even the simplest thing could lead us to a clue.”
“Maybe he did some blow or whatever but he wasn’t a dealer if that’s what you’re asking.”
“What were you guys talking about before you left?” Reid asked.
“I don’t know – guy shit. He was banging that chick Rose – I think he was going to meet her after.”
“Where – at her apartment?”
“I guess so.”
Reid nodded. “Okay, if you think of anything else, give me a call.” Reid handed Plex a business card and Plex took off.
Foxy was almost finished interviewing Georgie when we headed over there. When Foxy finished, Mac and Manny followed him with the camera as he walked up to Reid. Foxy had a small notebook open, and he was flipping through the pages.
“A damn taxi,” Foxy said. “I’ve been checking my notes – the old lady never said it was a race car. I think that ME had a hunch and it was wrong.”
Reid shook his head. “Do you think the driver could have been a woman?”
“My guy didn’t think so, but with the masks it’s hard to tell,” Foxy said.
“My guy had two people in the taxi – the passenger was the shooter.”
“Yeah, my guy said that too.”
“Okay, we can compare notes in the car, but first we’ve got to notify the next of kin,” Reid said.
“His mother lives in Albuquerque – I can call her. What about Rose – anything from PD on her?” Foxy asked.
“No. I called in a BOLO but I still think we should cruise by her house. Plex said he thought Kitt was meeting her tonight after the race.”
“Maybe she met him first.”
“Even if she did, she wasn’t alone.” Reid shook his head. “I’m too tired to think anymore. I need some sleep.”
“We all do, dude. I’ll call the mo
ther in the morning, okay?” Foxy said. “The captain will give us hell but I don’t give a shit. I can’t think straight. We can drive by Rose’s house and if she’s not there, we’ll pick this up in the morning.”
We all agreed to that plan. I was exhausted and I had my sister’s rehearsal dinner tomorrow night. I was hoping we could get this all wrapped up tonight at the border, but now we just had more questions.
We took two cars to Rose’s house. The cops knocked on the door and looked in the windows, but she wasn’t there. None of us expected her to be and none of us particularly wanted her to be, either. Foxy signaled that she wasn’t home and Mac drove Manny and me home.
I had gotten into the routine of falling asleep before my head hit the pillow, and tonight was no exception. I was out like a light.
Chapter 12.
