BLACK in the Box (30 page)

His phone rang and he tapped his earpiece. Stan’s voice boomed from the miniature speaker.

“Hey. Got your message. You’re back in the land of Botox and liars?”

“Just got in. How’s it going?”

“Good. Not as many bodies this week.”

“How was your Christmas?”

“Santa brought me a bottle of something delicious. Actually, I was especially good this year, so he brought me two. Thanks for that.”

“Nobody deserves it more than you. What happened with Home World?”

“Well, the shoe fit. Brent’s matched the imprint at Mary’s, so we’re calling that case closed.”

“Could be he was in on the theft but not on the murder.”

“True, and there was another set of partials, but not enough to work with.”

“That sucks.”

“Yup, but on the plus side, it’s another file off my desk. Everyone’s happy. No mystery – druggy mixed up in theft and embezzlement gets offed. Nice and tidy.”

“You convinced that’s what really happened?”

“That’s where all the evidence points. We did get a neighbor who thinks she saw a Dodge that matches Brent’s parked halfway down the block. And Nancy said Mary was in on the Iraq gold scheme, so there’s the murder motive. She probably had no idea Brent was planning to kill Alec, and started coming apart when he did. Brent couldn’t risk her talking. She had to know it was him.”

“Sounds like he was your man.”

“That’s my read.”

“Did you find any stolen merchandise at his apartment or in his truck?”

“That’s the only hole in it. No, we didn’t. But he might have had a hiding place for it that we don’t know about.”

“Or somebody else was involved in the theft ring, and Brent wasn’t.”

“Always possible. You do love to spin theories, don’t you? But if that’s the case, why was his shoe print in the garage?”

“Could be she was holding some dope for him. Could be a lot of things.”

“Agreed, but it’s closed. Everyone’s satisfied. Justice has been done.”

“What about the credit cards?”

“Feds took it over. Not our problem anymore.”

“Ah.”

Stan paused. “We still haven’t found the security guy or the janitor.”

“Think they left the country or something?”

“Who knows? Easy as walking across the border and taking the first flight to anywhere. Although…did I tell you we found a big drug shipment in the back of the store?”

“No.”

“Of course I don’t get anything but a birthday card because it’s on McCarthy’s turf.”

“He must be happy. He got a three-fer. Cards, dope, and murder.”

“Yeah, it’s a good way to go out. He’s off the force as of the first.”

“What happened to Nancy? They charge her?”

“Nah. DA doesn’t have the balls. McCarthy wanted to hang her, but the DA said no go. Too much in her story that could be true. Reasonable doubt.”

“I can see that. But what if she killed Alec?”

“Then she got away with it. Although forensics found some fibers from Brent’s work gloves on the axe, so they’re satisfied that he was the perp.”

“Could have also been from him cleaning or fixing something, too.”

Stan grunted. “Why do you have to always try to kill my buzz?”

“Must be automatic. Roxie trained me well. So did my folks.”

“Well, with McCarthy history, the captain happy that the case is solved, and no real evidence to implicate Nancy definitively, she’s off the hook.”

“She was a wrong ’un, buddy. That’s all I’m going to say.”

“I don’t disagree. But we’re living in an imperfect world. Take the wins and move on.”

“I guess. When can I get my gun back?”

“Whenever you want, I’m guessing. Just some paperwork to fill out. A breeze.” Stan paused. “I had a friend of mine who’s in the service check into the Iraq gold story. It’s kind of like selling the Brooklyn Bridge over there, apparently. Pure BS. Every local and his brother knows someone who knows someone who can help find something – for a price, of course. There’s more buried treasure in Iraq than there are camels, to hear them talk.”

“So he was scamming them.”

“Sure sounds that way, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, and he took a peek at our boy Alec’s military record. He wasn’t eligible to re-up. Apparently he had a gambling problem, wound up owing a lot of the wrong people money. Might have been using over there, too. Probably was. So he had a habit of playing fast and loose. Didn’t get a dishonorable discharge, but it’s about as close as you can come and not get the boot.”

“Then what do you think? He was using the story of the gold to get cash to pay his losses down?”

“Could be. Trail kind of goes cold there. But the way it looks to me is a con artist pulled his last stunt.”

“There’s your motive, right? Brent wanted the info Alec had, and figured he could eliminate the middleman, as well as a romantic rival, with one axe blow.”

“That’s how McCarthy wrote it up.”

“Whose prints wound up being on the laptop?”

“Unknown. When the feds take something over, that’s it – it’s their case.”

“Reason I ask is because if Bethany’s are on it, there’s your possible motive for her being the killer.”

“They closed the case. Go drink some eggnog. Hang out with your sweetie. Make babies or pet a puppy or something.”

“All good suggestions from a wise man.”

“About time you recognized it.”

Black terminated the call and smiled at Sylvia. “Stan says hello.”

“I like him. He’s sweet.”

“Like a hooker with a heart of gold.” Black checked the time. “We’re early. They said they’d be doing meditation and yoga until noon.”

“Let’s grab coffee and pretend we’re rich.”

“At this place, it’ll cost more than a root canal.”

“Sign it to their room. I’m sure they won’t mind.”

“I don’t think it works like that.”

She grinned, and her eyes danced in the sunlight as he changed lanes. “Only one way to find out.”

He returned her smile and nodded approvingly. “I like the way you think.”

“I learned from the master.”

<<<<>>>> 

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You’ve just read the fifth book in the BLACK series. The other books in the series are
BLACK
,
BLACK is Back
,
BLACK is The New Black
, and
BLACK to Reality
. I hope you enjoy them all.

Turn the page to read an excerpt from

Ramsey’s Gold

Excerpt from
Ramsey’s Gold

Chapter One

Southwest of Cajamarca, Peru, A.D. 1532

Lightning flashed through the anthracite clouds that roiled over the rainforest as an explosion of thunder shook the earth. A long line of llamas, their matted fur drenched from the constant downpour, shambled along a trail deep in the rainforest. The animals staggered under heavy loads strapped to their backs, hooves slipping in the mud and pulling free with a sucking sound.

Thousands of the unfortunate beasts had been conscripted into duty on the far side of the Andes Mountains, their drovers trudging beside them to see to it that none wandered off with precious cargo. Inkarri, the head of the expedition, had made it clear that this was a sacred mission, with the destiny and survival of the Inca Empire at stake.

Only two months earlier the Spanish conquistadores had betrayed Atahualpa, the Inca emperor, whom they’d captured through trickery. After hundreds of loads of ransom had been delivered to the Spanish leader in the Inca city of Cajamarca, the conquistadores had broken their promise and executed Atahualpa. Word had spread through the Inca world of the treachery, and an edict had gone out: the prosperous Inca nation’s treasure was to be safeguarded, away from the invaders.

Inkarri had traveled for many weeks, first crossing the Andes and then tackling the western jungle’s swollen rivers. He’d braved impossible terrain to put as many natural barriers between his people and the invaders as possible. Now, hundreds of miles from home, the procession was running short of resources. Many of the animals had perished along the way, and every surviving beast now bore an insupportable burden.

Inkarri knew his trek couldn’t continue. The latest attack on his group by the hostile Amazon natives had taken its toll – hundreds of his men had died repelling the assaults. He slowed at the head of the column and cocked his head, his bronze features haggard from the trip’s demands, and listened intently.

From the thick underbrush ahead came Lomu, his second in command, who’d been scouting with a small advance party for possible new routes. Inkarri held his hand over his head to signal a stop.

Lomu wiped rain from his face before leaning in close. “I found a promising site an hour away. It has streams – tributaries to the big river that winds through the area, so there will be plentiful fish,” he said in a quiet voice. “And I saw an auspicious omen. A jaguar, standing in the center of a small clearing. It’s what we’ve been waiting for. As clear as the gods could make it.”

Inkarri looked to the sky. “An hour, you say? Very well. We have another few left before it gets dark. How difficult does it look to defend?”

“If attacked, we would have the high ground. And there’s a small river that runs along the northernmost section, which will serve as a natural barrier.”

Inkarri nodded. “Pass the word down the line. We’re headed to our new home.”

Lomu rushed to share the news with the men. They were close to their journey’s end, and the beginning of a new, secret life in an inhospitable wilderness. Their mission was clear – to establish a new city away from the Spanish, where the wealth of the nation would be safe, a cradle for the fresh start of the civilization. When they had done so, Inkarri would return to the empire with news, leaving a trail of false clues and deceptive directions to confound any would-be pursuers. He’d seen the avarice of the conquistadores, and witnessed their duplicity, and knew their lust for gold and emeralds would never die – that he and his kind would never be safe.

It would take months to create a habitable enclave, but when he’d done so, he would set up small camps along the trail to help new arrivals find the city. Once he was back among his people, he would recruit women and more able-bodied men to colonize the area and build a new capital.

Inkarri watched Lomu disappear down the column of tired llamas, communicating the tidings to men who had been through an ordeal unlike any in their people’s history. The jungles east of the mountains had been the limit of the Inca world, and it was only a compulsion to survive that had driven Inkarri’s group into its reaches.

At last they arrived at the site. The sun broke through the clouds – the first pause in the rain in three days. Inkarri eyed the trees, taking the measure of the area. After several moments of silence, he moved to the center of the clearing and stood, his arms spread, the sun’s dimming rays warming him as he offered a quiet prayer of gratitude for bringing them safely to this spot. When he faced his warrior brethren gathered in a large ring around him, he beamed confidence and conviction.

“Our quest is over. Remove the treasure from the animals and let them rest. Organize patrols to ensure our safety this night, for tomorrow we begin building a new future in this place.” Inkarri paused, taking in the men’s expressions. “Oh, Inti, god of sun and light, and Apocatequil, god of thunder, thank you for leading us to this blessed spot. We shall honor you with a city the likes of which has never been seen. It shall be called Paititi, after the jaguar father you sent as a sign. Its riches shall be legendary – the stuff of which dreams are made.”

Lomu gazed at the hundreds of bags the men were placing on the wet ground, brimming with gold and jewels, and his eyes came to rest on the pride of the Incas: a massive chain crafted from thousands of pounds of gold, its gemstone-crusted serpentine links glowing orange in the waning light, so heavy that it had taken a hundred men to carry it. Even with all the other riches in the clearing, it was breathtaking to behold, and Lomu felt justifiable satisfaction in spiriting it away to safety.

The road ahead would be hard. But they would do it, and survive as a people until the Spanish were driven from the shores. Temples would be built, babies would be born, trade routes established, the empire would flourish, and their deeds would be spoken of in hushed tones of awe and respect.