Hunters, Page 4

  “Cute little dyke. Taller than me. Fit. A few years younger than us. Very alert. She’s a patrolman, not a detective. But I bet she has ambitions. And I’m pretty sure she’s the type that will have total recall of our conversation. That’s part of the reason I wanted to talk to you before I talk to her again. I made a mistake when I didn’t pay attention to where I parked. I don’t want to compound that by saying the wrong thing to a cop.”

  Nora stopped. “She’s not coming back out here, is she?”

  “No, I’m supposed to call to let her know if I remember something.”

  “Good,” Nora nodded, “call her from San Antonio. The fact that they sent a patrolman and not a detective means they’ve probably already written you off as a potential witness. But just in case… See if you can get her to meet you somewhere. You and I can think of something for you to pretend to remember from that night. Maybe if you tell her what you supposedly know, she will reciprocate, and tell you something about the case. It wouldn’t hurt to flirt. You know how we dykes like attention.” Nora smiled and resumed walking toward the house.

  7

  Martinez didn’t recognize the number that popped up on her phone and almost sent the caller to voice mail. At the last second, she chose to answer it instead. “Martinez.”

  “Officer Martinez?”

  “Speaking.”

  “Hey, hi. It’s Olivia Carrasco. We met at my sister in laws’ house a few days ago… about the parking ticket.”

  “Yes,” Martinez stopped walking, “Ms. Carrasco, I remember. How are you?”

  “I’m doing a little better now that I’ve had time to process what you told me. And I did remember something, although it might not be anything important.”

  Martinez felt her heart rate accelerate. She took a deep breath. “You never know. It might be nothing, and it might be the break in the case that the detectives need.” She knew she had to play this role very carefully.

  “I’m scared. I don’t want it to be anything important. I don’t want to be a witness to a crime like that. I almost didn’t call you back.”

  “I’m glad you did. It was the right thing to do. And I will do everything I can to keep your name out of this.” Monica knew that it would also be in her own best interest to keep Olivia’s name out of the investigation. Monica knew that she had let her curiosity get the better of her and had crossed a line. Now she was running scenarios in her head about how to convince Glade that any potentially useful information, had come from an anonymous tip. “Would you like me to take a drive back down to Atascosa to talk to you in person?”

  “Oh, no, my sister in law is home from her trip. I’m not house sitting anymore. I’m back at my apartment in town. Is it… possible…” Livi exhaled audibly and finished her sentence, “could we meet somewhere for dinner? Maybe?”

  Martinez was momentarily speechless. She was uncertain if Olivia was just a nervous witness, or if this had turned into something else. Was Olivia, for some reason, fearful of having a cop show up at her home? Was Olivia asking her out? It had never occurred to her that Olivia might be gay. In fact, Olivia had mentioned her deceased husband. She wondered if maybe Olivia was just a blue groupie and gender wasn’t a factor. Martinez realized that she had let the silence stretch on a little longer than was comfortable. And in the same instant, she also realized that meeting Olivia as a civilian would be much better than appearing at her door in uniform. “That would be fine,” she said in what she hoped was a friendly tone. “I have some time this evening.” After making dinner arrangements with Olivia, Martinez disconnected and immediately called her friend, Judy.

  “Hey, twice in one week?” Judy answered.

  “I must need a favor.”

  “Anything for you, Monica. Is this about the case we talked about?”

  Martinez sighed. “Yeah. I am all kinds of confused. Now I have dinner plans with,” she looked around, not wanting to say Olivia’s name out loud in the wrong company, “that person we talked about.”

  “Carrasco?”

  “Yep.”

  “Like a date?”

  “I really, really don’t know.”

  Judy laughed. “You need to get back out there. It’s obviously been too long.”

  “I am well aware. Anyway this is a professional favor, not personal. Well, kind of personal, but…”

  “You need a PI?”

  “Yes. I don’t want to get info through any official channels.”

  “It’s going to cost you.”

  Martinez laughed. “Will this be an hourly rate, or a semi expensive meal?”

  “Another meal with a good friend. Drinks on you, and you’re my double D when dinner is over.” Judy told her.

  “Sold.”

  ***

  Sherry sat down on the sofa next to her husband. She put her hand on his knee and squeezed it.

  He looked down at her hand and then back up at her. “That feels like trouble. I just can’t tell if it’s the good kind or the bad kind.”

  “I want to ask you something about Sara.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “My niece?”

  “Our niece,” she corrected him. “I think I’d like to arrange…”

  He cut her off. “I know where you’re going with this.”

  “And?”

  “And. Since when did you start a lesbian matchmaking service?”

  Sherry shook her head. “I think Sara’s ready to get back out in the dating world.”

  “And because Martinez is the only other lesbian that you know, you thought you’d introduce them?”

  “No. It’s because I love Sara, and I really like Monica. Why don’t you?”

  “You know I love Sara. I cried tears of joy the day she was born.”

  “You know full well I was talking about Monica.”

  “Sherry,” he said more softly, “it’s not that I don’t like the kid. I just think she’s headed for trouble. And I don’t have the time or the energy to spend my days making sure that she doesn’t get herself killed.”

  “What kind of trouble? She’s smart. She’s kind. She’s obviously patient. She has a good sense of humor…”

  “She’s curious. She’s ambitious. She’s driven,” he countered.

  “Ben, I’m not seeing the downside.”

  He grunted. “When I look at her, I can see that those wheels in her head are constantly turning. And I’m afraid that one of these days, her curiosity could lead her somewhere that she isn’t ready to go.”

  Sherry rubbed his back. “Doesn’t this describe all of the good cops out there?”

  “It also describes a lot of the dead cops out there. You think it’s not gonna break Sara’s heart again if you introduce her to some great girl and then that great girl goes and gets herself killed?”

  “You just said Monica was a great girl.”

  He glared at his wife. “That’s not the point. I don’t want Martinez all up in my family. It’s bad enough she figures a way into every crime scene whether she’s on duty or not. I can’t imagine her at every family dinner…”

  “What if I wanted to introduce Doug to Sharon?”

  “That would be different,” he said immediately.

  “Why,” she sounded incensed, “because Doug’s male? Because he’s a detective?”

  “No,” he shrugged, “because I don’t like Sharon as much as I like Sara.”

  She smacked him on the arm. “You are an ass,” she couldn’t keep herself from laughing. “Come on, Ben, I have a good feeling about Monica.”

  His tone turned somber. “And I have a bad one, Sherry.”

  ***

  “Hey, Boss, you been watching the news?”

  Mac laughed. “Who is this?” He asked the anonymous caller.

  “It’ll come to you.” He paused and blew the smoke out of his lungs. “I wish you could see my work up close, and in person. It’s a thing o
f beauty. Turn on the news.”

  “Fine, buddy, whatever.” Mac grabbed the remote and changed the channel to the local news. The first story that he saw was an apartment building on fire. “Did you set something on fire? That’s not cool, man. You should turn yourself in.”

  “That ain’t my style, Boss. You’ll know my work when you see it. We’ll talk about it later.” He disconnected.

  Mac looked at his cell phone and shook his head. He left his easy chair and went to the kitchen. As he returned with his bag of chips, he caught the end of a story about the mutilated body of an unidentified female that had been found in a city park. He dropped the chips and grabbed for the remote to rewind the story.

  ***

  Martinez stood with her back to the wall just inside the door of Rosario’s. She was hungry, and the tantalizing scent of the food was pulling at her. She decided that if Olivia didn’t show up, she was getting some fajitas to go. She glanced at her cell phone to check the time, and when she looked back up, Olivia was swinging the door open.

  Olivia grasped the lapels of her tan trench coat and shook a few drops of rain water from a rare summer shower, off of her shoulders. She spotted Martinez as she was unknotting the belt around her waist. “I had to park more than a block away.” She stepped closer. “Everything near the building was a no parking zone. And I have learned my lesson.” She smiled.

  “I am glad to hear that you are reformed.” Martinez extended her hand. “Thanks for meeting me.”

  “Of course,” Olivia shook her hand and held on just a little too long.

  Martinez tried to put the gesture aside for further processing at a later time. “Shall we?” She used her extricated hand to motion toward the hostess.

  “I haven’t eaten here in years.” Olivia’s gaze roamed the changes in décor that had occurred since her last visit. “I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed this place.”

  “I ate here two days ago,” Martinez confessed.

  Olivia placed her fingertips on Martinez’ shoulder and stopped her walking toward the waiting hostess. “You should have said something. We can go somewhere else.”

  Martinez shook her head. “I chose, remember. I had a hard time making up my mind last time I was here. This was a good excuse to eat the item I didn’t order last time.”

  Once seated, Olivia ordered a frozen margarita, and then turned to Martinez. “Just one, I promise. Even though I may park illegally once in a while, I do not ever drive drunk.”

  “I’ll have water and a cup of black coffee,” Martinez said to the waiter. She slid her menu aside, already knowing what she intended to eat for dinner. “Would you like to talk about what you remembered before, after, or during the meal?”

  “Which would be better?”

  “That’s up to you Olivia. I just want you to be comfortable talking about it.”

  She nodded. “Feel free to call me Livi. And I think I will wait until the margarita serves its purpose and relaxes me a little. I’m still nervous about the whole thing.”

  “That’s fine. Try not to be nervous. What, or who, you saw probably has nothing to do with the case. We just need to check out every possible lead. After we clear this information, and you stop parking illegally, you probably won’t ever to need to see another cop at your door again.”

  Livi held her gaze. “Seeing you at the door wasn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  To Martinez, the statement sounded like a come on. But it was just vague enough to leave her wondering. And on top of it all, even combined with the lingering handshake, she still didn’t get a lesbian vibe from Olivia Carrasco. She hoped that her face was displaying a neutral smile while she pondered everything. Fortunately, the waiter arrived in time for a change of subject.

  Before the food arrived, and halfway through her frozen cocktail, Livi took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “Okay,” she looked around and leaned toward Martinez, “I had gone to the ice house to get some beer and wine. My best guess is that it was around eight. It could’ve been nine. I can’t swear to the time. When I got back to my friend’s house, I saw what I am pretty sure was a man hurrying around the corner. He wasn’t running, so I just assumed he was jogging. He got into a smaller, older pickup truck, and drove away.”

  “Did you notice the make and model?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not good with car types. It was dark metallic blue, though. I had seen the color in my headlights when I pulled up to the curb. I guess he was parked illegally, too.”

  “Was he white, black, tall, short?”

  Livi shrugged. He wasn’t that close to me. I couldn’t pick him out of a line up, or anything like that. He was wearing a hoodie, maybe grey or dark green, with the hood up. I didn’t give it any thought at the time, but I guess it was a little strange that he jogged to a truck and then drove away so quickly. I probably wouldn’t have remembered him at all if I hadn’t admired the color of the truck a few minutes earlier.”

  Martinez nodded, not wanting to interrupt Livi’s train of thought.

  “He might live there. I started to call and ask the friend whose house we were at, whether or not she knows the guy. But I thought you might rather I tell you what I remembered before I talked to anyone else about it.”

  “You were right.”

  Livi clasped her hands together. “I really hope he’s not the killer.”

  “It most likely has nothing to do with the case. I promise to let you know the minute we identify him. In the meantime, try not to worry.”

  Martinez was relieved as the conversation turned away from the homicide and ventured into more generic topics: The Spurs, the weather, the food. Halfway through her fajitas, her phone rang. Judy’s picture popped up. “I’m sorry,” she said to Livi, “I have to take this call.”

  “Never off duty,” Livi smiled as Martinez rose from the table.

  She nodded at her dinner companion as she headed back toward the front door. “Martinez,” she said in her most professional voice, just in case she was still within earshot of Olivia.

  “Are you still at dinner?” Judy asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How is it? Have you figured anything out yet?”

  “She’s an enigma to me,” Monica sighed.

  “I may be able to shed some light on her for you,” Judy told her. “Are you sitting next to her?”

  “No, I got up from the table when you called. Illuminate me.”

  “She killed her husband.”

  A chill ran up the back of Monica’s neck and then crept through her entire body.

  8

  When Judy opened the door to her townhouse, Monica thrust a to go box forward. “As long as Olivia didn’t poison her husband, these fajitas should be safe for you to eat.”

  Judy smiled. “I’ll risk it.” She took the proffered leftovers. “I take it you left in the middle of dinner.”

  “I was a little too freaked out to stay after your news. I told her that I had to help a stranded friend.” Monica made her way to the couch and dropped onto it somewhat shakily. “As we parted ways, she said she hoped she wasn’t being too forward and suggested that I might give her a rain check.”

  “What did you say?” Judy limped over to the couch, set the box of food on the coffee table and started assembling a taco.

  “I smiled nervously and left it at that.”

  “Smooth move, Martinez.”

  “Should I have said yes and started dating a killer that I’m not even convinced is gay?”

  “Everybody’s gotta start somewhere.” Judy smiled and had a big bite of her taco. “Seriously, though,” she said with her mouth full, “what better way to keep an eye on her. Maybe you could pick up a little more information if you saw her again socially.”

  Monica furrowed her brow and considered the possibilities. “I don’t know. No matter how meek and well-mannered she appears, there’s some
thing cold in her eyes. She makes me edgy. Shit, I make me edgy. I should never have gotten myself into this mess. You know that thing about curiosity and how it ends for the cat?”

  Judy slid a file folder across the table. “It’s not straight up murder. Husband used to beat the crap out of her on a regular basis. It was self-defense.”

  Monica opened the folder and scanned the headlines of the articles that Judy had printed out for her. “How did she kill him?”

  Having just had another bite of her taco, Judy held up her hand in the shape of a gun. She pulled the imaginary trigger, swallowed, and said, “two in center mass.”

  It all fell into place. Monica fell back on the couch and let out a heavy breath. If she was right, there was no way for her not to tell Glade and Sherman what she had done, and what she may have uncovered. Her career in law enforcement might be over, but weighed against taking a vigilante serial killer off the streets… “Oh crap. I think I’m in way too deep here, Judy. And you may be right, the only way to find out for sure is to see Olivia again.”

  “If you really think she’s taking people out, you have to be extremely cautious. Never go anywhere with her unless I, or someone else, knows about it.”

  “I’d like to say that I’m not an idiot, but I think my actions have already proved me wrong.” Monica shook her head. “I hate to say this out loud, but if she really is killing off abusive scumbags, there’s one guy I kind of wish she’d take out before we take her down.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Malcolm Cole.”

  ***

  Malcolm Cole muted the television and answered his phone. He was hoping for a call from his lawyer who was seeking a continuance on his behalf.

  “Hey, Boss.”

  “Well, well, well,” Mac settled back into his recliner, “I was wondering how long it would take you to call me back.”

  “So, you approve?”

  “What did that girl ever do to you?”

  The caller laughed. “What didn’t she do? What they all do. You know what I’m talkin’ about, man. Look what yours did to you. Breaking your heart wasn’t bad enough. She took a dump on your entire life.”

  “She sure as fuck did,” Mac said.

  “You didn’t answer me, though. Were you impressed?”