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Authors: Giacomo Giammatteo

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BOOK: A Bullet for Carlos
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“Sick? For a week and she didn’t call?”

Cynthia’s back stiffened and her attitude with it. “I don’t know. I just didn’t.” Cynthia looked at her watch. “Will we be much longer, because I have a meeting in—”

“Anything else you can tell us?”

“No. There’s really nothing else I know.” She stood, reached her hand across the table to say goodbye.

Connie stood, too, but Tip stayed seated, even as Cynthia reached to shake hands. “What was your name again? Cynthia, was it?”

“Yes.”

He looked her up and down and shook his head. “I don’t guess you know an Anna Rodriguez do you? I went to school with a girl by that name over at Lamar High School.” He let a pause float in the air, then, “She was a cute girl, too, and she always had a smile on her face. That’s what reminded me of it. You kinda resemble her.”

Cynthia blushed. “I
do
have a cousin named Anna but she lives in El Paso.”

“It’s a small world,” Tip said, “but not that small.” He stood and handed her a card. “Anyway, if you think of anything call me, okay?”

“I will,” she said and started walking them out. As they neared the exit, Cynthia said, “You know Patti did tell me she met a guy jogging one day. She said he invited her to a concert.”

Tip stopped. “You know which one?”

Cynthia shook her head. “I’m not sure, but I think it was at the Pavilion.”

Tip wrote ‘Pavilion’ in his notepad. “She say anything else about the guy, or do you know if she went to the concert?”

“I’m not sure. This happened just before she…got killed.”

“Did she tell you anything else?” he asked.

“I remember we got interrupted when she was telling me the story, then…I don’t know. Maybe she thought she’d tell me the rest later. I still can’t believe she’s gone.” Cynthia thought some more, then seemed to get frustrated. “I can’t remember.”

Tip patted her on the shoulder. “That’s all right. You did good. Sometimes it takes a while for things like this, so if you remember anything else, call me.”

“I will.”

As Tip and Connie exited the building, Connie said, “That was pretty smooth back there.”

“What?”

“The way you turned her around. She wasn’t about to give us anything else. I think I pissed her off.”

“She just needed to relax. A lot of people get nervous around cops.”

“You did a good job. She might even call us if she remembers something.”

“In the meantime we can check out Patti’s address book, and later on, the gym.”

“What have we got in the address book?”

“Not much,” Tip said. “Fernando checked out every male name in there and they all have alibis”

“How can they all have alibis? We don’t even know what day she was killed.”

“Yeah, well, there were only two of them and they were both gone the entire week.”

“Only two guys in her address book?” Connie shook her head. “Not too good for a single girl.”

“Can’t figure that out,” Tip said. “Not like she was ugly. Maybe she didn’t like guys.”

They walked to the car, got in and headed toward the station. “What do you make of that stuff about the concert?” Connie asked. “Think there’s anything to it?”

“Don’t know yet. Right now it’s just another question mark. Maybe we’ll get some leads from the address book or the gym.”

***

We worked the rest
of the day chasing down leads over the phone and talking to people who had no idea why they were even in Patti’s address book, including the two men. Both men said they hadn’t talked to her in more than a year. “This lady didn’t have much of a life,” I said. “Worse than mine.”


Patti
is her name,” Tip reminded me. “Besides, a lot of people live that way. Go through life without anyone even knowing they exist.” He paused, staring at the wall. “Damn shame is what it is.”

By noon we had the report on the Fed-ex package. It was definitely sent
after
she was dead. No prints, and it was dropped off at a Fed-ex drop, no cameras. Fernando called Tip around 4:00 with more information. When Tip got off the phone he filled me in.

“They tracked the serial number from the iPod. It was bought at a Best Buy west of town, and paid for with cash. No cameras on the transaction.”

“When?” I asked.

“Two days after Ben figured Patti died.”

I tapped my pen on the desk, thinking. “Damn.”

“What the hell is going on?” Tip said.

“Gotta be him.” I clicked the pen off and on, off and on. “But why? What’s the significance?”

Tip looked at the clock. “Let’s go, Gianelli. With this traffic, by the time we get to the gym it’ll be 5:30. That’s what time Cynthia said Patti used to workout.”

I packed my stuff. “We need to strike gold at the gym. Gotta break this case.”

“Since she spent so much time there, maybe she talked to people more.” Tip grabbed his notepad. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

The gym was crowded when we got there, and after waiting a few minutes for the manager to finish with a customer, Tip approached him with his badge out. “Tip Denton. This is Detective Gianelli. We need a few minutes of your time.”

The man seemed nervous. “What can I do for you?”

“We’re investigating a homicide and the victim was a member here—Patti Green.”

Recognition lit his face, relief showing. People always got nervous before they knew what a cop wanted. “I remember hearing about that.”

“So you knew her?” I asked.

“I didn’t know her to talk to, but I knew who she was. She came in three or four times a week.”

I tried to keep the accent from my voice, not wanting to alienate people. “Anybody here she was particularly friendly with? Any workout partners?”

He thought, but then shook his head. “Nobody I can think of.” He pointed toward the back. “She mostly used the weights. I think she did her cardio outside the gym.”

Tip handed him a card. “You think of anything else, call me.”

As we headed to the back of the gym, Tip whispered, “You any good at reading people?”

“Not bad, why?”

“Watch them while I talk.”

“You gonna’ talk to them all at once?”

“For now,” Tip said. “If you notice anything, we’ll pull them aside individually. And make sure you get names and numbers.”

There were five guys and three ladies working out on weights. Tip raised his voice. “Listen up. I’m Detective Tip Denton and this is my partner, Detective Gianelli. We’re here to investigate a homicide and we need everyone’s attention for a few minutes.”

The mention of homicide always got people’s attention. Soon the weights were set on the floor or back in the racks. “Patti Green, a member here, was killed a short while ago.” Tip showed a picture of her. “Any of you know her? Take your time. Get a good look.”

I watched closely, mostly the men, but all of them nodded their heads, almost an instant reaction.

“She was here all the time,” one of them said, “but she didn’t talk much. I said hi a few times, that’s it.”

“Same here,” a second guy said.

“I talked to her a few times,” one of the women said, “but I didn’t know her name.”

I focused on her as Tip turned to ask more questions. “What did you talk about?”

“A few conversations about form.”

As Tip wrote in his notepad, the woman eyed him. “What’s going on, Tip? You don’t say hi to old friends?”

He stopped writing and looked up, a puzzled expression on his face. It took him a few seconds but he must have finally placed her. “Good God, Elena, you look great.”

Elena smiled and lowered her head.

“Don’t blame me for not recognizing you,” Tip said. “You look ten years younger.”

“Thanks, Tip, and don’t apologize; it’s been years, and I think about thirty pounds since you last saw me.”

Tip’s gaze dropped from her face to her legs and back. “It looks like you’ve been living at the gym.”

“Thanks.”

I waited for a break in the conversation, then, “Elena, did Patti ever tell you anything about herself outside of the gym?”

Elena shook her head. “We never talked about anything other than workouts.”

“Anybody else here know her?” I asked.

“I never saw her with anyone. She came in, worked out, and left,” Elena said.

Tip handed her a card and winked at her when she took it. “Call me.”

Elena smiled. “You mean if I think of anything else.”

“I guess so,” Tip said.

I rolled my eyes. Didn’t take much to figure out where this was heading.

After talking to a couple of people on cardio machines, we found out Patti jogged at the park on Cypresswood Drive. I made a note to check that out. Before leaving, Tip stopped at the key rack, lingered for a minute, then we left.

“You see how easy that was,” Tip said. “I could have grabbed anybody’s keys.”

I looked back at all the keys hanging on the board, then at the guy manning the desk. “So our guy could grab her keys and make a copy in the parking lot, then put them back.”

“Not saying it happened like that, but it might explain how he got in.”

I conceded the possibility, but hadn’t bought into it completely. “So, you and Elena…”

“I knew her a while back.”

“I could tell. And if I’m any judge of character, she’ll be calling you with something she remembered about Patti.” I opened the car door, and got in. “And if that judgment holds true, she’ll be wanting to discuss it with you at night.”

“I hate to stay up late,” Tip said, “but I’ll do anything to crack this case.”

I laughed. “Anything? Even sleep with a beautiful woman? You’d go that far?”

“Not a chance,” he said, and started the car.

“I’m glad you take the high ground, Tip.”

We ruled out all the male suspects on the way back to my place, and as Tip pulled up to my building, he said, “Guess we wasted a bunch of time there.”

“Not all a waste. You got to see Elena.” I laughed as I got out of the car. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you, Gianelli. You did good today.”

***

On the way home,
all Tip could think about was Elena, and how good she looked. He stopped at the grocery store, picked up a couple of beef tenderloins, some shitake mushrooms, and ingredients for a salad, then made his way to the wine section and grabbed two bottles of Pinot Noir. At the checkout lane he looked at his cell phone, making sure he hadn’t missed a call.

The phone rang twenty minutes later as Tip drove into his driveway. “Baby, what took you so long?” he said.

A little bit of laughter greeted him, then, “This is Connie, not Elena.”

“I’m sorry. What’s up?”

“What time are we getting started tomorrow?”

“I don’t know, how about nine?”

“Tell you what, I’ll meet you at the station. I need to go somewhere first.”

“Okay, see you there.”

“By the way, Tip. Elena won’t call for at least an hour. Maybe a few hours. She’ll want you to think about her first, and then she’ll use the case as the reason to call. And don’t say, ‘baby, what took you so long?’ That’s a shitty line. Act surprised to hear from her.”

There was a long pause, then, “Gianelli, you’re all right. I might even decide to like you.”

“Yeah, me too. See you tomorrow.”

Chapter 29: El Paradiso

Chapter 29

El Paradiso

T
ico sat in a chair at El Paradiso, across the room from Carlos, who was busy meeting with a realtor about some property. He waited until they had concluded their business, then approached.

“We have news from downtown.”

“So soon? I’m pleased.”

Tico handed him a file, which Carlos opened and studied. “And do we know this man? This…Tony?”

“I’ve asked around. None of the men knew he was undercover, but this report shows he is the one who has been causing us so much trouble on the street.”

“We will have to keep our eyes open for him.”

“Si, señor.”

“Where are you going
dressed like that?” Belinda asked.

“Picking up some girls then going to a club.”

“No, really, Tony. Where are you going?”

Tony finished tucking in his shirt, leaving the top few buttons undone. He had a regular wardrobe—the one he was allowed to wear as Tony Ramirez—and he had
this
wardrobe, the one he wore as “Tony,” just Tony, no last name. Ferragamo shoes and shirts, silk socks, and all the bling to go with it. He leaned over and kissed Belinda. “Sorry I have to go, baby, but this is an undercover thing, and it’s not the kind of club for you. Besides, I might have to bust a guy tonight.”

“Who is it?”

“Remember that cop from New York I told you about, the one whose partners got shot? We got a tip I gotta check out.”

She kissed him. “Be careful. And don’t let those girls touch you.”

He smiled and kissed her back. “You know I won’t.” As he grabbed a thin leather coat he headed for the door. “Don’t wait up.”

“Don’t worry about that; I’m ready for bed now.” Belinda smacked him on the butt as he left.

Tony got to Carla’s place a few minutes before nine and parked down the block. A couple of minutes later she came out, walking toward his car with an exaggerated sway. Carla had a powerful, compact body tucked into a short muscular frame, and she had an air of confidence that made her
very
appealing. He rolled the window down as she drew near. “Sugar, you looking for me?”

BOOK: A Bullet for Carlos
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