“Yes doctor, I do.”
“Why?”
“Because I have ten thousand more reasons to find him then they do.”
Next, I paid a visit to Goldman, Harper, Rogers & Dent. They were the law firm that was representing Vincent Caine. I had little hope of getting anyone to talk to me, but in my business, you took things as they came. Talking to Caine’s attorney could only shed light on where he might have gone, and so I tried to get a few words in with the man.
To my great shock, I was ushered into Gary Dent’s office in less than a minute. Gary Dent was younger than I expected, and a hunk. He was six-feet tall and slim, with wavy dark hair and a cleft chin.
As his assistant escorted me into the office, I watched as Dent’s eyes took me in from tip to tail. Normally, I wore jeans when working, but lazy girl that I am, I hadn’t gotten around to doing the laundry for a while and all my jeans were dirty. So today, I was wearing a black silk skirt with a white blouse and a pair of turquoise boots that rode up to mid-calf. As I sat and crossed my legs, Dent’s eyes widened in interest.
He held up my business card.
“A Private Investigator? I thought you were a Bail Enforcement Agent, a Bounty Hunter.”
“I’m all three actually; I was a P.I. and later became a Bounty Hunter, but it's the law in Texas that bounty hunters must also have a P.I. license, as I’m sure you know.”
He shook his head. “Actually, no, I didn’t know that; but now I’ll never forget it.” Then, he smiled, and I felt my heart go aflutter. I am such a sucker for a great smile, and also humility. A lawyer admitting that he didn’t know everything was a first for me.
“The reason I’m here, Mr. Dent—”
“Gary, call me Gary, and you’re Blue. Is that really your name, Blue Steele?”
“Yes, my father was expecting a boy.”
“Thank God he was disappointed,” Gary said, and then he smiled again.
“Thank you for the compliment, Gary, but I’m here to talk about Vincent Caine.”
At the mention of Caine, Gary Dent grimaced.
“You don’t like Mr. Caine?” I asked.
“Vinnie? Yeah, I like him, no; I just made that face because I’m so pissed at Vinnie for running off. He had zero chance of going to prison for his wife’s murder.”
I uncrossed my legs and leaned forward.
“Why do you say that?”
“He didn’t do it and we could prove it. The timeline was all wrong. Vinnie is a smoker, cigars, at the time his wife was being murdered, he was at a store buying some. We have three witnesses that can place him there, plus the store’s security camera.”
“He was at the store at the exact time his wife was killed?”
“Well, not the exact time, but it was only twenty minutes after the neighbor swears he heard the gunshot that killed Lucinda, and the cigar shop is a forty-five-minute drive away, so, unless Vinnie learned to fly, he’s innocent.”
“He could have hired someone to kill his wife.”
“Yes, but if he had done that, wouldn’t he have given himself more leeway on the alibi?”
“All right, then why would he run at all?”
Gary smiled at me again. If he kept doing that, I was going to leap over the desk and molest him.
“I’m not at liberty to say, Blue; attorney-client privilege, you know?”
I thought for a moment, and the answer came to me.
“Money, he was hiding money from the IRS, and when he got indicted for murder, all of his financial dealings came to light.” I grinned. “He could actually receive a longer sentence for tax evasion than for murder; that would be a reason to run.”
Gary squinted at me. “You’re a smart one, Blue; I’ll have to remember that.”
“Vincent Caine was planning on divorcing his wife and leaving her with nothing, so he told anyone who would listen that she was gambling him into bankruptcy. Then, after the divorce was final, he would suddenly make a financial recovery.”
“Let’s say that hypothetically that was the truth, does that sound like a man planning to kill his wife?”
"No, it sounds like a man planning to cheat her, not kill her.”
“Exactly.”
“So then, who killed Lucinda Caine?”
“My guess? It was dear old Mom.”
“Bobbi Reed?”
“I’m not just Vinnie’s lawyer. We’ve been friends since college, I was there when he married Lucinda. Bobbi Reed was nowhere in sight. Vinnie met Lucinda while he was dating Bobbi, and then they broke up. A few years later, Vinnie marries Lucinda out of the blue. A suspicious man, or woman, might believe that Vinnie and Lucinda had never lost contact.”
“Even though she was just a child?”
“He swore to me at the time that he had never touched her and that she was a virgin on their wedding night.”
“Did you believe him?”
“I thought I did, but when he contacted me after being charged with murder, I realized that I hadn’t kept in touch with him since the wedding, so, maybe not.”
“But why would Bobbi Reed kill her own daughter?”
“Jealousy, Vinnie told me that Bobbi and Lucinda barely spoke for years, even though Lucinda’s little sister stayed with her from time to time. Vinnie said that Bobbi used them as free babysitters, but other than that, she wanted nothing to do with them. Then, six months ago, Bobbi offered an olive branch and she and Lucinda became best friends. You know what they say: Keep your friends close, and your enemies even closer.”
“Still, her own daughter?”
“Or rival, I guess it depends on how you look at it.”
“So, your theory is that Bobbi Reed killed her own daughter in order to frame Vincent Caine? I don’t know; let’s say it’s true, why now?”
“I take it you’ve met Bobbi Reed?”
“Yes, this morning.”
“Not exactly the picture of health, is she?”
“What are you saying?”
“Bobbi Reed has terminal liver cancer. According to what my investigator found out, she’s got maybe six months to live. If she wanted to get back at Vinnie and Lucinda, now was the only time she had.”
When I was leaving, Gary escorted me to the elevator.
“How old are you, Blue?”
“I’m twenty-eight, why?”
“I’m forty, too old?”
I had several thoughts then. One was serious, one was evasive, and three were just plain wiseass, but in the end, I simply answered, “No.”
“Good, so I’ll call you soon?”
“Yes.”
He gave me his best smile yet, and then the elevator arrived, and we said goodbye.
Chapter 4
I was in my office, which is also my truck, a Ford F150 that had more miles on it than I cared to think about. My truck was black with a tan interior and I had owned it since the day I got my driver’s license. It was a birthday gift from my father.
I was invited to have dinner with Becca and her family. As I pulled into their driveway, my phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Ron, owner of the AAAAAAAAAA Bail Bonds Company. He used the ten A’s so to be sure he was listed first in the yellow pages, but most people just referred to his company as Ten A, which was funny, because Ron’s last name was Tenney.
“Hi Ron, what’s up?”
“Blue, baby, how’s my favorite bloodhound?”
“Good, how about you?”
“I’m good, kid, but listen; I got an easy one for you, and it pays three grand.”
I straightened in my seat as Becca and Richie came out to greet me, behind them poured out their brood, three girls and two boys, ages two to nine. I held up an index finger and Becca stopped in her tracks, as Richie told the kids to hush.
“What is it, Ron?”
“A guy by the name of Felix Porta, he skipped a few weeks ago on multiple B&E charges. I got a reliable tip that he’s working under the table at the Easy Wax Car Wash, yo
u know, the one on May Street? Come see me and pick up the paper, then go grab Felix, the whole thing should only take a few hours.”
“And you say he’s worth three grand?” I said, and watched as Becca’s face fell. I had blown off the last two invitations to dinner because of work and it looked like I was going to do it again.
“Yeah, three bills, so how soon can you get here?”
I climbed out of my truck and sent Becca a smile.
“Thanks for thinking of me first, Ron, but I’ll have to pass; I’m having dinner with my family.”
I left Becca’s that night feeling good and a little wistful that I didn’t have a family of my own yet. Maybe someday.
On the ride home, an idea came to me in a flash and I pulled over to make a call.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mrs. Reed, this is Miss Steele, do you remember me?”
“Of course, you’re that bounty hunter.”
“Right, could I ask you a few more questions, ma’am?”
“Yes, but be quick about it; I’m just about to leave for work.”
I was quick, and she answered all my questions. After an hour of searching through county records on my laptop, I thought I knew where Vincent Caine was hiding.
The fifteen-year-old neighbor girl that Lucinda suspected her husband of molesting was now a nineteen-year-old adult. Her name was Sarah Miller.
Sarah lived in a tiny first-floor apartment on Lafayette Street in Dallas. I arrived there just after ten o’clock. It was a humid night, and as soon as I left the air-conditioned comfort of my truck, a slick of perspiration began to appear on my forehead.
At the curb, I spotted the SUV registered in Sarah Miller’s name. I peeked in a side window and saw that the back seat was loaded with cardboard boxes. It looked like Sarah was planning on moving, likely out of state, and possibly with a fugitive boyfriend in tow.
I headed up the walkway, and that’s when I heard the shots, one shot, then a pause, and then five more, six in all.
It sounded like a thirty-eight revolver. I whipped my own gun out and ran toward the front door. It was locked. Just then, a neighbor stuck his head out a second story window.
“Call the police,” I said. “Tell them that shots have been fired and that there may be a fugitive on the premises.”
The man nodded, and I heard a woman’s voice, although I couldn’t make out the words.
The man yelled down to me.
“My wife says that someone dressed in black just ran out the back door.”
I walked around the building with my gun held level with both hands and my eyes scanning left to right. I had to fight the urge to rush to the back yard as quick as I could. Often, moving fast is no good, it’s better to go slow and be careful. As I made the turn at the back, I spotted a shaft of light beaming into the back yard; it was coming from an open doorway.
I approached cautiously, as I kept one eye on the doorway while scanning the shadows to my right. The neighbor saw someone run out the back door, but that didn’t have to mean that they ran away. They could just as easily be hiding.
I peeked into the apartment and saw a kitchen. There was water running in the sink and a small stack of dirty dishes beside it. I let the water run and went farther into the apartment. I didn’t have to go very far; they were in the next room.
Vincent Caine and Sarah Miller were both lying dead on the living room floor. Scattered around them were more cardboard boxes, some were full and taped shut, while others were empty.
Sarah had been shot in the forehead once, while Vincent had four distinct wounds in his bare chest. A fifth wound was in a different location. If the bloodstain spreading across his boxers was any indication, Caine had died a falsetto.
Chapter 5
A patrol car responded and I told them my story. As I waited for the homicide detectives to show, my phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Blue, hi, it’s Gary Dent. I hope I’m not calling at too late an hour?”
“No, Gary, it’s just… listen, I’ve got some bad news. Vincent Caine is dead, murdered.”
“Oh my God, Vinnie… Blue, who killed him?”
“I don’t know. I only heard the shots.”
“You were there when it happened?”
“Yes, I tracked him down at his girlfriend’s apartment, but I got here too late.”
“Too late? Any earlier and you might have been murdered too. Tell me where you are and I’ll be right there.”
“Right, sorry, I should have told you already, after all, Caine was your client.”
“Screw Vinnie; I’m coming there to be with you.”
And with a smile on my face, I told him the address.
Gary arrived just as the cops were finishing with me. He walked over and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
“Thank God you’re all right.”
“I’m fine, and I’m sorry about Caine, I know that at one time he was a good friend of yours.”
He nodded. “Yeah, thanks, so tell me, who was the girlfriend?”
“Her name was Sarah Miller; it looks like they were about to run off together. She lived next door to Caine when she was fifteen, apparently, they, eh, kept in touch.”
“Jesus, Blue, another teenybopper? Oh Vinnie, you sick bastard.”
I took his hand and looked into his eyes.
“I have something to tell you; I think this might all be my fault.”
“What do you mean?”
“Earlier tonight, I recalled the story Bobbi Reed told me about Caine’s rumored affair with a teenage neighbor. I then wondered if maybe he had kept in touch with the girl, and, if he did, she might even know where he was hiding.”
Gary lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it.
“You’re very clever, Blue; I may have to put you on retainer as an investigator. The guy I had looking for Vinnie would have never thought to look here.”
“It was a hunch, but I didn’t know the girl’s name or even which house the girl had lived in, and so I called—”
“Bobbi Reed, you called Bobbi Reed and she put two and two together and came here and killed Vinnie.”
“Possibly, I don’t know, but I told the police about her and they’re going to talk to her.”
Gary cupped my face in his hands.
“Nothing here is your fault. Bobbi, or whoever killed Vinnie, is to blame; you got that?”
I smiled. “I got it.”
“Good, now let’s get out of here.”
We drove to a diner and had coffee. In between sips, we talked a little about ourselves.
I learned that Gary had married just after college, but that the marriage hadn’t even lasted a year.
“So, you’ve never been married, Blue?”
“No.”
“Ever come close?”
“Once, but… it doesn’t matter.”
“Hmm, it sounds like there’s a story there, but I won’t pry. So tell me, what gets you going other than catching bad guys?”
I smiled. “Horses.”
“Horses? What kind?”
“Quarter horses.”
“Oh, you like the quarter milers, the fast ones, eh?”
“Yes, but I love any kind of horse; by the way, do you ride?”
“Not only do I ride, but I own a ranch.”
I blinked. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“I said I own a cattle ranch, the triple Q, in Bandera.”
“You own a ranch? Wait, Bandera is about three hundred miles away. You must not get there too often.”
“No, I fly there about every other weekend, in my Cessna.”
“You own a ranch and an airplane?”
“Yes.”
“Jesus, Gary are you rich?”
“I inherited the ranch from my grandfather. I actually own it with my brother and sister, who both live there, and the plane, well, that’s my toy.”
“You’re a rich rancher; that’s who I want to be when I grow up.”
He glanced down at my breasts.
“You look fully grown to me.”
“Only on the outside, on the inside I’m a kid who wants to spend her life around horses.”
“So, why don’t you?”
“I want them to be my horses, on my ranch.”
“Is that your dream?”
“Yeah, what’s yours?”
He stared into my eyes. “I want to meet the right woman.”
We were outside in the diner parking lot, saying goodbye as we stood beside our vehicles.
Gary had an F-150 too, although his was red and much newer than mine.
“Goodnight, Blue, I guess we could call this a first date maybe?”
I shook my head. “Dinner is a date, not just coffee.”
“Well then, dinner it is, are you busy Saturday night?”
“No, and I look forward to it.”
A moment later and we were kissing. When our lips parted, we both smiled.
As I drove home, my phone rang. It was Gary.
“Missed me already?”
“As a matter of fact, yes, but I have something to tell you. Dr. Harold Weidman, Lucinda’s lover? The police just arrested him for Vinnie’s murder.”
I swung my truck into a tight U-turn and headed downtown. It looked like it was going to be a long night.
Chapter 6
The detectives that were handling Lucinda’s murder were also working the Vincent Caine and Sarah Miller murders, since the assumption was that they were connected.
They located Bobbi Reed at Parkland Memorial, where she said she had been since her shift started. When they told her about Caine’s death, she smiled. They left the hospital, unconvinced of her innocence, but also unable to prove her involvement. They hoped to clear things up once they had a chance to study the hospital’s surveillance video.
Next, they went to see Dr. Weidman, the dead man’s rival in love. When they pulled up to the curb outside Weidman’s home, the house was dark. As one of the detectives rang the doorbell to rouse the doctor, the other decided to look around the property. When he opened the lid on the garbage can at the curb, he saw a yellow plastic shopping bag lying on top. After putting on gloves, he lifted the bag and a .38 revolver fell out.
Blue Steele Box Set Page 2
