Blown To Pieces (PTO Murder Club Mystery Book 2) (21 page)

I pointed to it. “We’re probably on camera.”

Monica glanced up and then nodded.

She followed me to Big Tommy’s office.

“Why are the signs spelled out in food?” Monica ran her index finger along the letters made of bubble gum.

“No idea. Big Tommy was into recycling, but this is a little much.” I hoped whoever was watching us couldn’t hear us too. It seemed like a bad idea to put microphones in a restaurant that was usually filled with noisy people, but what did I know?

I opened the door.

“Damn and double damn.” Monica’s jaw dropped to the floor. “It’s like living inside a roll of aluminum foil.”

The CDs blinked in the fluorescent light.

“Wow, I thought you were exaggerating about Liberace’s desk, but damn. That’s a big, ugly desk.” She eyed up the doorframe. “How’d they get it in here?”

“That’s what I wondered.” I did a three-sixty. “Seriously, did they take the back wall out?”

“Are all of these CDs Willie Nelson?” Monica squinted at the back wall.

“Yes. Big Tommy was a huge Willie fan.” I pulled out all of the desk drawers. I had no idea what I was looking for...maybe a price tag from the yard sale where Big Tommy had picked this sucker up? Furniture didn’t usually have the name of the previous owner on it, but I was praying for a miracle.

I didn’t find anything. “Why don’t you take a look here? I’ve searched this desk before. Maybe you can find something I missed.”

“Sure.” Monica pulled the drawers out and emptied them on top of the desk.

“Are you going to clean that up?” She was ransacking Big Tommy’s desk.

“Do you think Big Tommy really cares?” Monica smiled as she dumped another drawer out.

“Good point.” There was nothing left for me to do here. “I’m going to check out the kitchen and see if I can find any file cabinets. Maybe there’s a bill of sale from the world’s tackiest furniture shop.”

I pushed through the swinging door labeled “Kitchen.” The word was spelled out in coffee beans. I shook my head. Poor Big Tommy. He’d suffered from artistic autism. The talent was there, but he just couldn’t unlock it.

The kitchen appeared to be a standard commercial kitchen. I ran my index finger along the metal counter that ran the length of the room. It was spotless. I spun around. Everything was spotless. The stove looked brand new and unused. I leaned over and checked behind it. Nothing but clean wall.

The vent hood above the stove didn’t have so much as a speck of dust. It didn’t look like this kitchen had ever been used.

Had Big Tommy really made all of his chili in his front yard? I was pretty sure the Travis County Health Department would have had something to say about that. I opened the huge door to the walk-in freezer. Super-cold air nearly knocked me over.

I scanned the shelves. White-paper-wrapped packages of meat filled every shelf. In the back corner was a metal machine-looking thing that was the size of one of those commercial frozen yogurt makers at FroYo.

“This is a lot of freakin’ meat,” Monica said from behind me.

She cooked, so maybe she knew what that machine was.

“What’s that?” I walked over to the machine. It was clean, but it had been well used.

“It’s a commercial meat grinder.” Monica blew into her hands and then rubbed them together. She picked up one of the white parcels and held it up. “My guess is that he used that to grind all of his own chili meat.”

I hugged myself against the cold. “I guess the question of him using sawdust is answered.”

Monica analyzed the white package. “What kind of meat is this?”

“What do you mean?” How would I know? I could count on one hand the number of times I’d actually handled raw meat. I play to my strengths...my fingers were made for dialing and not cutting. Unless it’s cutting off people who try to cut me off.

There was a huge table-saw-looking thing behind the grinder. Why were these in here? Wouldn’t he have processed the meat in the kitchen? I’d certainly never processed meat, but it was pretty damn cold in here.

“There’s no label. Even if this is venison that he killed himself and had butchered, it would have some sort of label, even if it was handwritten.” She put the package back on the shelf. “I guess he could have processed it himself, but still, I’d think he’d want to label it so he would know what part it was and how old it was...” Monica started pulling in long, drawn-out breaths. “Holy shit.”

“What’s wrong?” I went over to see what was bothering her.

She pointed to a white package as long as my arm. It was thin and cylindrical.

“What’s that?” I certainly didn’t know anything about the meat parts of a cow or deer, but that didn’t look like any part I’d ever seen in a store.

Monica’s hand covered her mouth. “It looks like the full-arm cast I had in high school after I broke my arm.”

“No, no. That’s a deer leg or something.” Only, it was a lot fatter than a deer’s leg, and unless cows had cankles, this wasn’t bovine either. I ran through a list of edible animals in my mind, and I couldn’t come up with one with a leg shaped like this.

“Could it be sausage?” Monica sounded like she really wanted it to be sausage.

“There’s only one way to find out.” I nodded at the package. “Unwrap it.”

I waited for Monica to pick it up and unwrap it.

“You unwrap it.” She took a step back. “I’m vegan, so I’m morally opposed to animal products.”

“Since when? You had two sausage biscuits less than an hour ago.” My blood ran cold, and it wasn’t because we were standing in a freezer.

“It’s acute onset veganism. I just converted.” Monica rubbed her hands together again. “Rock, paper, scissors?”

“Okay.” I threw my fist out there.

“One, two, three, shoot.” Monica chose paper, and I had scissors.

I used my finger scissors to cut her paper.

“Best two out of three?” She grinned.

“Sack up and grab the...” I stopped myself from saying “arm.”

Monica walked out of the cooler and then came back in wearing latex gloves. She picked up the package and brought it out to the stainless-steel counter in the kitchen.

She rolled her eyes heavenward. “Dear God, please let this not be what we think it is.”

She slid her index finger under the masking tape holding the paper closed and carefully unwound the white butcher paper.

I felt my sausage biscuits making a return trip, so I ran to the huge double sinks. I made it there just in time. Monica was hot on my heels. She took the left side and I took the right as our breakfast came up with a vengeance.

The wrapped package contained a human arm severed just below the shoulder. The arm was complete with skin, an elbow, and five long fingers with red-polished nails.

Ten minutes later, we sat in Portia and tried to come to grips with possibly the grossest thing either of us had ever seen. Monica was a lovely shade of grayish green, and I’m sure I was worse, being that I started out a lovely shade of bluish gray.

I started Portia, waited for my phone to pair, and then called Ben’s cell. Things were coming together in my mind, but before I talked to Monica about what I thought was going on, I needed to verify an important detail.

“We need to talk.” Ben didn’t sound happy. “You’re lucky I answered your call. You spent the night with Daman?”

Daman Rodriguez was a very touchy subject with Ben. He thought that Daman was a drug lord. Only Monica and I knew he was DEA.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Daman is out of town. My house was ransacked, and I needed a safe place to stay.”

“I have seven guest bedrooms. You could have had your pick.” Ben’s voice was deep and angry. “Wait, your house was ransacked?”

“Yes, and I couldn’t call you because I’m being watched. If I’d stayed with you, really bad things would have happened. I’m taking a chance calling you now.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. I had a headache of epic proportions. “I don’t have time to tell you everything, so you’re going to have to trust me.”

“Are you in trouble?” Concern outweighed the anger. “Is Max okay?”

If I told him I was in trouble, he’d attach himself to my side and never let me out of his sight.

“He’s fine and doesn’t have any idea what’s going on...thank God.” My pulse drummed behind my eyes. “I need to know if you’ve gotten the DNA back on Big Tommy.”

“Yes, I just spoke to my friend at the lab. They’re running it again because the results were inconclusive.” His voice turned grave. “You’re really scaring me.”

“I’m going to be fine. I’ll be able to tell you all about it this afternoon.” At least, I hoped I’d be alright and alive to tell him what was going on this afternoon. “On the DNA results, you said inconclusive. Let me guess, they found several different people’s DNA?”

“Yes, how did you know?” Ben sounded a little shell-shocked. I had thrown a lot at him in the last minute.

“Was Big Tommy’s DNA in one of the samples?” The pieces were coming together to form one very nasty puzzle.

“We can’t say for sure because Big Tommy’s DNA wasn’t in the system and we weren’t able to find a comparison sample.” Paper rustled on Ben’s side. “Four different DNA samples were present. They belonged to a Jennifer Domel, Roberto Ott, Larry Sharfington, and Harold Lartus. All of whom had been reported missing and then found.”

“Is their DNA in the system because they were reported missing?” All of the facts were coming together. Monica arched an eyebrow. I put my hand over the phone. “I’ll tell you in a second.”

“Yes. They were all reported missing, DNA samples were given, and then several weeks later, they were all found.” Ben read from some report. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“I can’t right now. I can tell you part, but you have to follow my instructions to the letter. If I tell you about something, you can’t raid the building until one o’clock this afternoon. I need your promise, because a lot is riding on you trusting me.” A lot—like Haley’s life.

“I trust you.” He hadn’t even hesitated.

I owed him the same trust. I took a deep breath and voiced what I’d been thinking. “Big Tommy’s secret ingredient in his world-famous chili was human meat. I don’t know if he was the killer, or even if those people were murdered, but Big Tommy was in charge of body disposal.” Saying it out loud made it so much worse.

Monica turned even greener. She put her hand over her mouth, hopped out of the car, and ran to the bushes.

Ben was silent for a full minute. “That’s crazy.”

“There’s a charity called the Lakeside African Relief Fund. Go to their website and click on ‘Meet the Staff.’ You’ll find all of your DNA results on that list.” I knew for sure that Jennifer Domel and Roberto Ott were on that list. I was willing to bet that so were the other two DNA samples. Lyle had said that this charity seemed to exist to hide people. We’d been thinking they were people who were alive and not people who were dead.

I heard Ben typing in the background. “You’re right, all four names are part of the volunteer staff. But what does this have to do with...um...Big Tommy using human meat?” He whispered the last two words.

“At one this afternoon today, you and your law enforcement buddies need to raid Big Tommy’s Chili Parlor and Oddities Emporium. But not before one. The freezer is full of packaged body parts, and there’s an arm thawing on the kitchen counter.” It really did sound crazy.

“I’m sorry. Did you say an arm is thawing on the counter?” Ben was pulling in gulps of air fast and furiously.

“Yes, and calm your breathing or you’ll pass out.” If anyone was going to pass out, it should be me or Monica.

Monica was leaning against the building for support. She didn’t look well.

“What happens at one?” Ben’s breathing was slowing.

“I can’t tell you. I wish I could, but I can’t.” If he raided the Chili Parlor now, Haley was as good as dead.

“Okay. I promise.” His breathing had almost returned to a normal level.

I needed to go check on Monica. “Thank you. Now—”

“So Big Tommy was making chili out of dead people?” Ben began to suck in air double time.

“Calm down.” I didn’t know why I was so calm. Maybe it was because I’d never eaten Big Tommy’s chili. “I know it’s gross, but trust me, the mental image isn’t anywhere near as bad as the actual image.” Apparently, that cup of chili Big Tommy had tried to give me had been made out of Jennifer and Roberto and a couple of their buddies.

“It’s just...” Ben made retching sounds. “I loved Big Tommy’s chili. I ate there at least once a week.”

Now I was getting nauseated again. I don’t normally experience sympathy vomiting, but my body was going to make an exception right now.

“Gotta go.” Ben hung up.

I jumped out of the car and ran to the nearest clump of trees. All I had left in my stomach was a little bit of water and some bile, which was now coating the grass underneath the trees. I went back to Portia, grabbed a bottle of water, swished, and spit on the ground.

I made my way to Monica and patted her on the back.

“I used to eat here all of the time.” Monica heaved again.

“Maybe he didn’t use the body parts in the chili. Maybe that was one random arm.” I wasn’t buying, but if it made Monica feel better, I hoped she would.

“Right, because...what...Big Tommy found a human arm on the side of the road and thought, hey, free arm, so he picked it up, wrapped it in butcher paper, and threw it in the freezer?” Monica was feeling well enough to get her smartass on. That was a good sign.

“Probably not, but if you need to believe that, I’m willing to let you.” I patted her back some more. “I’ve got another bottle of water in the car. I hate to do this, but we need to get going. We’re running out of time.”

Monica glanced at her wristwatch. “We have just under three hours until noon. Which charity do you want to start with first?”

Monica stood, grabbed the side of the building for support, and then walked very slowly to the car.

“Why don’t I take you back to Daman’s house?” I slipped an arm around her waist and helped her to Portia. “You look like you could use a nap.”

“Nope, I’m better. We need to find the gold and save Haley.” Monica grabbed the unopened bottle of water I handed her, unscrewed the cap, and rinsed her mouth. “She’d do the same for us.”