Chasing Suspect Three (26 page)

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Authors: Rod Hoisington

Tags: #Cozy Mystery

BOOK: Chasing Suspect Three
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“Oh, bless you. Gerardo Diaz, anything else
about him.”

“He is one of the drivers in the motor pool.
I just recognize him. That is all I know.”

“You are a saint,” Sandy hugged her. “And you
have never heard of a Richie Grant?”

Sandy watched with puzzled eyes as Adela
shook her head. How could it be? Both Margo and Claudia had
identified the dead person as Richie Grant. Why had they lied?
Perhaps to fool the police into giving up the search for the real
Richie? In that case, he was still alive. Was he the one who took
off with the money? At least, now she knew he wasn’t the murderer,
but Richie Grant was still out there, and she didn’t know what that
meant.

It was just too crazy to believe Gerardo Diaz
had somehow been leading a double life in Park Beach and in Miami.
She asked, “Adela, does Diaz work full-time at the consulate?”

“Yes, they keep him busy driving the
officials around the city and couriers to and from the airport.
Likes his job, he once told me. He gets to dress sharp and is home
every night. He must be on some assignment or something, because he
has not been at work this week at all.” Then her eyes widened. “Oh
my God, he’s dead in those photos, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he’s one of those involved in the drug
gang, isn’t he?”

“Yes, you see how they operate. They killed
him for some reason. Do you realize you are holding my life in your
hands?”

“The gang didn’t kill him. He was shot by a
deputy out of town.” She patted Adela’s hand. “And a long lovely
life you’re going to have. You would not have had a happy life with
John. You would have been on the run forever, and never had the
nice home and the things you deserve. You are a beautiful person,
inside and out. Here’s my card. Call if I can help you. One last
thought, start aiming higher. You can do a lot better than the John
Larenas of the world.”

The only way it made sense to Sandy was
Gerardo Diaz went to Park Beach to kill John to keep him from
testifying against Ramirez and to recover the money. There was no
question about it in her mind. Yet, she had to find the .45 caliber
murder weapon or other evidence to definitely link Diaz to the
murder.

After spending another half hour talking,
Adela made her a cup of coffee, and Sandy went out front to her
car. She drove a few blocks away, just to be safe, and phoned Jay
Heppard.

He answered, “Agent Heppard.”

“Sandy Reid, Park Beach.”

“Ah, the girl with the soft sexy knees. What
do you need, Sandy?”

“I discovered the murderer of John
Larena.”

“I’m happy for you and I love hearing your
voice. Who was it, his wife? You know, that’s a local Park Beach
murder. Why are you bothering me with that?”

“Listen up, kiddo. It ties in with your
consulate drug smuggling case here in Miami. The killer is part of
the Salvadoran drug cartel. He was after the drug-buy money John
Larena absconded with.”

“I don’t get it. You said, ‘here in Miami.’
Where are you right now?”

“In Miami. The killer lives around here. Or
did, he doesn’t live anywhere anymore. You
do
know that
Larena was in the middle of a drug buy when you guys came down on
the consulate, don’t you?”

Silence on the phone, and then, “What are you
getting at?”

“Larena wasn’t around when you busted
everybody, was he? He was one of the missing. I’m guessing he came
back up to Park Beach with a diplomatic pouch full of cash. If you
knew about this, what did you think happened to the cash in the
interrupted drug buy?”

“There were several buys. I don’t think we
knew that Larena in particular was left holding cash. You don’t
need to spread that all over town. So, the cash is still out there.
Where is that money now?”

“Geez Louise, do I have to do everything for
you? Okay, okay. I’ll go find the money.”

“Just hold the money part for a minute.
What’s the killer’s name, and who is your source?”

“I can’t reveal my source. We’re dealing with
dangerous people here. I need to make a deal with you, Jay. You
have to keep my name out of it. If you name me as
your
source, you federal types are going to ask me who
my
source
is.”

“You’re damn right we will. I’m asking right
now. Who is your source? Don’t worry, we’ll give your source
protection.”

“Sure you will. The graveyards are full of
government-protected witnesses. I want a deal. You promise not to
name me as your source.” She was aware that people carrying badges
routinely make false promises and barefaced lies to get
information. It’s part of their game. She didn’t like the idea of
relying on him, but regardless she’d never tell him or anyone.

“Bullshit. This is a federal investigation.
You’ll tell me now.”

“Come on, Jay. You’re following up on dozens
of leads. Surely, you can say the killer’s name was just one of the
names that popped up on the street, and you checked it out. If you
do that, you’ll have a big boost in your investigation and another
star on your chart.”

“What? You’re going to let me take all the
credit for a significant break in the case, and your name will
never be mentioned. Is that what you’re saying?”

“That's what I’m saying. I don’t want my name
mentioned. The glory is all yours.”

“Okay, you’ve got your deal. Name the
killer.”

“First, he was a John Doe. Then he was
supposed to be Richie Grant.”

“Richie Grant? We’re looking all over Dade
County for information on that guy.”

“You can stop looking. His real name is
Gerardo Diaz, a driver for the consulate. His body is on a slab in
Park Beach. His address is on the consulate employee list.”

“How do you know all this? Give me your
source. Is it Margo Larena? You can claim attorney-client
privilege, if it is.”

“It’s not Margo. Just trust me enough to go
ahead and search the home of Gerardo Diaz immediately. Time is very
important. Swoop down on his place tonight and start collecting
evidence. You’re looking for a .45 caliber murder weapon. He
wouldn’t have thrown it away, because when he left home the last
time, he didn’t know he was never coming back. Call Detective
Jaworski in Park Beach and see what he needs. DNA, prints, trace
evidence. I’m certain you can connect Diaz to the John Larena
murder.

“I’ll start the ball rolling on his place.
Thanks for the gift of his name. A consulate driver, huh? We didn’t
have any leads on that angle. This will look very good on my
record. I’d like to thank you in person. Where are you now?”

“On Red Road, but I don’t think I’ve time to
meet with you this evening. I must get back to Park Beach.”

“Look, Sandy, I’m in North Miami Beach right
now. My apartment is near you on Ponce de Leon. I can meet you out
front in a half-hour. I’ll stop and get some wine.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not going to
your apartment for wine.”

“You’ll love the place. It’s comfortable,
quiet, and we won’t be disturbed. My roommate is out of town.”

“Your roommate?”

“The government rents it for interim housing,
two agents to an apartment. It is first-class gorgeous. It’s after
dark already. I don’t want you driving through Miami at night. Your
red car is a tempting target even without you sitting inside like a
mouth-watering cherry on an ice cream sundae.”

He was correct about the risks of the drive
home at night. Staying over with Mr. Fabulous Kisser would be an
interesting next step. But she didn’t want a next step with him.
The step she wanted was to get straight with Chip. “I’m not
spending the night with you, Jay.”

“All right. Then just meet me at the
apartment. We’ll have a glass of wine and talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You should do it, Sandy. You’re comfortable
with me. We can pick up where we left off. You’ve been in that
small town too long. This is the big city. This is Miami. We can go
out later, if you want. What’s your problem anyway? Use your GPS.
It’s 8102 Ponce de Leon. I’m dying to kiss you again.”

She had never expected him to be like that,
begging like a teenager. “Jay, it’s a nice offer. I truly
appreciate you bringing your forces down on the Diaz apartment, and
keeping my name out of it. But, I’m not sleeping with you.”

“I get excited thinking about having my hand
under your skirt the other night.”

“Your hand was never under my skirt, and your
excitement is not my problem.”

“You surprised me that evening. I thought we
were going to hook up. You looked as though you were about to
invite me in. I was looking for something special from you.”

“You’re still looking.”

“You’re putting me in an awkward
position.”

“Which position would you like to put me in?
Forget it, buddy, it’s not going to happen.”

The phone was quiet for a moment. Then he
said, “8102 Ponce de Leon. One half hour. Or else.”

“Stop joking. It’s not funny.”

“Hey, you’re the one asking for the favor.
You don’t want me to reveal your name.”

“But it’s not a favor, if you make a trade
out of it. I would never, never, trade like that. That isn’t
me.”

“So, you’ve never in your entire life traded
sex for something you wanted.”

“I’m not having this discussion with you.”
She paused knowing she was about to make an enemy. “I don’t want to
talk with you any longer. Just assure me that your people will move
in on the Gerardo Diaz place.”

“I just looked up his name on the consulate
employee roster while we were negotiating. I’m looking at his
address right now. He lives in Hialeah. Not far. Yeah, we’ll take
care of it.”

“Well, thanks for that much anyway. I’m
hanging up. Goodbye.”

“Then you leave me no choice. I will name you
as
our
source, and all hell is going to come down on you. A
federal judge will issue a summons for you to appear in court.
You’ll be forced to testify and reveal your source, or go to jail
for the criminal charge of withholding evidence. Don’t be surprised
if you also lose your law license. Do you still think protecting
your source will be worth all that? You need to think about how
easy it would be for you to avoid all that.”

“I can’t believe you’d do this.” She was
relieved thinking back to the evening sitting in the car with him
after dinner. She had come close to asking the creep in for a night
together. It was a good lesson for her; one great kiss isn’t enough
to let someone into your life. Her jaws had tensed up to the point
she had difficulty getting the words out. “You are a first-class
sleazebag. Taking advantage of my situation is extortion, a
criminal offense.”

“Isn’t the judge using extortion when he
says, if you don’t give me the name, I’ll send you to jail?”

“I don’t have to screw the judge.”

“Would you, to stay out of jail?”

“It’s insulting to even ask me that. Let me
ask you this. If I agreed right now, would you actually enjoy the
night with me knowing I didn’t want to be with you?”

“You’d probably get into it before the night
was done.”

“Boy, did you pick the wrong girl. How many
distressed women have you screwed using your FBI position to coerce
them?”

“Counting you?”

“Goodbye.”

“Come on, you don’t want to drive back alone
in the dark. We get along. What happens in Miami stays in Miami.
What’s the big deal?”

“If it’s no big deal, why are you making an
ass out of yourself? You are a cheap and lustful gutter dweller.
You’ve made a serious mistake doing this. You just put yourself on
my to-do list.”

“Maybe it’s not my finest hour. Are you going
to run and tell everyone about me?”

“No, because then when something bad happens
to you, everyone will remember I had a motive to get you. And I
will get you and bring you down. It might be later, but it’s not
too early to start looking over your shoulder.”

“That’s nice, but make no mistake. I’m going
to find out who gave you the name, Gerardo Diaz, and you will go to
jail.”

Chapter Twenty-eight

T
ired and still
wound up from her successful excursion to Miami, Sandy finally made
it back to Park Beach shortly after ten that night. The after-dark
drive back was uneventful except for a few laudatory honks from a
car of teenage boys, while speeding down the Don Shula Expressway.
She guessed the bad guys didn’t crawl out until after midnight.

In total, the day had come up roses except
that Jay Heppard was threatening to reveal her as the source of the
killer’s name. Maybe he wouldn’t. He didn’t need to. He could
easily quote an anonymous source, or say the name came up while
questioning some low life. If a summons were issued, she didn’t
know how to avoid naming Adela Sevilla, and she had promised to
never to that. A further recollection of the day brought a smile to
her lips; she had been offered an expense-paid tryst sailing off on
a cushy white yacht into the land of make-believe. That fanciful
thought would stay in the back of her mind for a long time. The
offer was flattering. Nice to know she was one who could be out
there.

She wondered if it was too late to drop in on
Chip. He’d be thrilled to hear about her winning day. She’d need
some excuse for coming by. She could say...her white jeans were
there and she needed them. Fabricating an excuse to see her lover
seemed strange.

She wished all of her fears and suspicions
were behind her. According to her perspective, things still needed
ironing out. She needed to lay it all out there. Now would be a
good time.

She approached his house hoping he was home.
When she turned the corner, she was pleased to see his brown Crown
Vic in the driveway.

Then she noticed the dark green BMW parked at
the curb.

She parked several houses away. By the porch
light, she could now clearly see Claudia with her considerable
blonde hair standing in Chip’s front doorway. She was dressed in a
yellow sleeveless sun dress and wore high cork-heeled platforms.
She was now leaving. Had they just kissed goodbye? Chip was
standing in the doorway watching her sashay down the front sidewalk
to her car. She didn’t look back at him and wave from her car, just
drove off. Fortunately, she went the opposite way from where Sandy
had stopped.

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