Fly With Fire (16 page)

“Thanks kid. I’ll put a call
in for your brother, as soon as I’m done talking to Ms. Villareal. Don’t touch
anything else for Chrissake.” Zack headed up the stairs and pushed the bell for
three. It buzzed without question, she’s expecting someone, or she had seen him
and was curious maybe. He took two stairs at a time to find the door open
several inches. He knocked. The door opened slowly to reveal a beautiful woman
with large, dark brown eyes and shoulder length raspberry tinged black hair.
She had a wide full mouth and wide cheekbones. She was small, five two, one
fifteen with a curvy stripper’s body. Large breasts barely suppressed by a
bright orange halter top with no bra. A tiny waist gave way to hips a little
large in very low riding shorts. Legs men dreamed would be the last legs they
ever had to see were shown off by platform espadrilles. Her skin was golden
brown and flawless except for a tiny dark mole half an inch south east of her
right eye. She gave him the once over. “You are here about the break in?” She
had a husky voice and a heavy accent. Not Mexican, El Salvador, maybe.

“I’m Zack Burnham.” She would
have heard the name. Her face remained impassive, but he saw her swallow too
hard. “Ray’s partner.”

“Senor, me no, uh, habla de Englais.”
She gave an ‘oh dumb me’ shrug and smiled. “No can help you, I see no thing.
Break in down the stairs.” She started to push the door closed.

“I have something for you.
From Ray.” The door stopped moving. She froze and he could see her calculating.
She opened the door again.

“Come in Zack, I feel like I
know you. Ray always say you are a stand up?...stand up guy. He teach me
English. Ray say the Spanish muy bien, very good.” She led him into the living
room which was painted bright yellow. It opened into a small kitchen with
stainless steel appliances and a granite countertop with flowers on the wall
that looked like they’d been cut from magazines and pasted on. She stopped and
turned toward him.  “What you have for me?” Her eyes went right to the
envelope Zack pulled out of his pocket. Her hand moved toward it. Then she drew
it back when she saw his look. “What do you want?” She pouted her lips and
looked at him through half closed eyes. “Ray tell you all about me?” The
emphasis was on the all.

“He told me about you. And
the condo. He put down a down payment and made the mortgage payments. What I
understand is that’s two mortgages on a detective’s salary. You knew about the
other mortgage, on the house his wife and kids live in? But that’s not really
why I’m here. You know about what Ray was into. My guess is expensive
girlfriend got all the details. Do you know where I can find Curtis Lyons?”

“I don’t know no Lyon. I
don’t know anything about Ray’s business. He don’t talk about his cases. He
love me, he going to marry me. Then he die. That’s all I know.”

“He may have loved you but
his wife is gonna get about half a million in insurance. And you’re looking for
the mortgage. Guess owner financing isn’t the most secure way to go. Long term.
Then again, how else was he gonna set you up? Shoulda just rented. Better yet,
shoulda just paid as he went.” She snorted and glared into his eyes. Then
looked at the envelope as if she might salivate. He could see the wheels
turning and wasn’t surprised when she took a different tack. She closed the
distance between them and put her thumb and forefinger on his lapel, looking up
into his eyes. She gave him a little smile that he knew was one she had relied
on many times to get her way. Was it the moist lipped smile and half closed
bedroom eyes that had sucked Ray in? If Ray had needed sucking in.

“I cry myself to sleep.” Now
she took on a deeply saddened expression. “If I could only find another man as
good as Ray. Ray talk about you always. He say you good cop. He never say how
good looking you are. You younger than Ray. He tell me about your divorce. Say
you need a woman.  We both are sad for Ray. He is gone for two of us. Why
don’t I give you drink. Let’s talk about Ray. How we love Ray. He would be glad
to know we comfort each other.”

“Curtis Lyons, Senorita
Villareal.” He slapped the envelope against his palm. “This is two hundred but
there could be more coming in if you hook me up with Lyons. Or has someone else
already stepped into Ray’s shoes.”

“I see. Business first.” She
shrugged and told him all about Ray. He knew it wasn’t the whole story, but it
was a start.

Mo made faces at herself in
the huge bean shaped sculpture called ‘Cloud Gate’.  She laughed at some
kids who were posturing and posing in the reflection of the big weird mirror
polished chrome sculpture. It was strange to see at first, but if you stood
back and saw how it reflected the city skyline and lake front you started to
appreciate the intention of the artist. She sat on a bench and watched the kids
while waiting for Zack. He was late and she tried not to be irritated that he
hadn’t arrived when he said on their last check in. Being kept waiting was not
something she had a lot of patience with. Her cell phone rang. “Where are you?
I was starting to worry. Zack? Zack?” She looked at the phone. ‘Unavailable.’
Probably someone realized they had a wrong number. Or the call was dropped. It
rang again.

“Hi, I’m two minutes away,
sorry, saw a fender bender and had to stop a fight.” I guess that’s a pretty
good excuse, Mo thought. After all they weren’t meeting for a date. “You have
lunch or are you hungry?”

“I’m starved. I thought I’d
wait so maybe we could have some lunch together.” She smiled at a little girl
who was making faces at ‘The Bean’ as she heard people refer to it.
 Everyone one seemed to make faces or study themselves. “Is there a good
place around here?”

“Ms. Whitman, there’s nothing
but good restaurants in Chicago. We’re on the far side of the lunch hour so
getting a table shouldn’t take too long. I’m pulling up, look toward the
street. I can see you.”

Mo turned on the bench and
saw Zack’s SUV pull to the curb. She grabbed her bag and threw her scarf over
her shoulder. Even on a late August day the wind off the lake had a cool edge
to it. She jogged down the cut stone steps to Zack’s car. He hopped out and
opened the door for her. Something he invariably did. He turned and waved at
someone with a little nod. She looked past him. “Someone you know?”

“Just someone from work.” He
got in the driver’s seat. Ben Ghury had stayed right on her.

She had gotten some sun on
her face. Her long braid was disheveled by the wind. But she had bought a
Chicago White Sox ball cap to tame the elements. “Like my new hat?”

“Lemme guess? Macy’s.”

“Well, close. Chicago
souvenir stand. I like to buy something from city’s I go to. At least this is
practical. It’s usually a coffee cup. I have a lot of coffee cups. Don’t use
them much.”

“Afraid you might break one?”
Zack pulled out into traffic. They headed north on Michigan then he took a left
and headed away from the park.

“Not home that much. It
doesn’t seem to matter that much where I live. We travel all the time.
Montreal’s beautiful, but I don’t see much of it. Just moved there when I began
with the show. Gotta live somewhere.  

Zack found a spot near a
place call Boston Blackie’s.  He opened the door for her before she had a
chance to smooth her hair and collect her bag. Mo thought she detected unease
about her new friend. He took her arm as they walked to the Restaurant. “My
first lunch in Chicago and you take me to Boston Blackie’s?”

“The foods great, thought you
might like it. You want to go somewhere else?” He was serious.

“I was just kidding, Burnham.
Mayor give you a wedgie?” She gave him a sidelong and saw the frown.

“Didn’t see Tyler, left a
report. Two please.” The hostess took them to a booth in the back. They slid in
opposite each other. “They’ve got good sandwiches but what they’re known for
are their steaks.”

“I think a sandwich will do
me, bad morning Detective?”

“Nothing, no big deal.” He
avoided looking in her eyes.

“If it’s anything that’s come
up about Ling’s murder, I’d appreciate it if you’d clue me in. Just water
please; have any bottled water?” The waiter took Zack’s coffee order and left them
looking at each other.

“Nothing new on that. Look, I
don’t want to bend your ear. Everything’s cool.” He tapped his finger on the
menu. “They have a good Reuban. I guess you have to be careful what you eat
when you’re doing a show. Except for pizza maybe.”

“Sometimes. I’m suddenly
feeling like I’m in the way of something you’d rather be doing. We don’t really
have to have lunch. You are working. We don’t have to socialize after all. If
you have things on your mind. Let’s just get going and you can sort them out
while I rehearse. Any second thoughts about this arrangement you just let me
know.” Her wind pinked cheeks burned red. Her dark eyes showed irritation. Her
small mouth had puckered as if she had just sucked a lemon.

“Chill out, Ms. Whitman.
Yeah, I have some things on my mind. Something came up about Ray. I didn’t want
to ruin lunch hashing out something I’m still trying to get my mind around. You
inviting me to quit ‘cause I’m a little distracted? Believe me I can tell you
what everyone in this restaurant is wearing. He slapped the menu shut. “You’re
not happy with me? I’ll be on my way. But I might as well eat first.”

Mo was startled. She’d not
seen him in this kind of a mood before. At least not directed at her. “I’m
sorry, Zack. I get so wrapped up in this whole thing with Ling and I forget
sometimes that you’re grieving for a close friend too. I’m willing to listen.
Here she comes. Let’s order.” She put her hand on his. “Hash it out with a
friend.”

Zack waited until he had
stirred the cream into his coffee. Mo sat and patiently sipped her water. “Ray
was having an affair. Not just a fling. Pretty serious. Serious enough to buy a
condo with owner financing for her. He had set her up, paid the mortgage,
everything. I have it from her he was dealing drugs stolen from dealers to pay
for it. Fucking partners for two years. Known ‘im all my life. Never had an
inkling. Some detective I am. You might want to reconsider after all. Now I
know why they’re looking at me too. Convinced I was in on it. I went to see
her.”

“You went to see the
girlfriend? This morning?” Mo was wide eyed. “What happened?”

“Waved a little money in her
face and she told me everything. About her and Ray. How he boosted the dealers
then turned around and sold the stuff through kids on the street. About the
dude who may have been the shooter and why he had Ray’s gun. Ray was shot when
he chased this guy down an alley. I was in the car. Ray had gotten out to check
him out. Ray said stay put just taking a look-see. The guy took off. Ray stood
there a minute and then went after him. I’d never seen the guy before and
thought it was strange that Ray thought he ought to check him out, he wasn’t
doing anything. I went into the alley but couldn’t see them. Then I heard
shots. They came from behind the old amphitheater. I ran back and there was
Ray, sitting on a trash can as if he was just hanging out, shootin’ the shit.
Except he was dead.”

There was a waiver to his voice.
Mo put her hand on his again with a squeeze. “He gave the guy his gun and had
him threaten kids who owed, or weren’t selling enough. Fast enough. He was
apparently desperate to make money to support this bim…woman. I convinced her I
was interested. In getting in on the action. And her. I mean what are the
dealers going to do? Call the police and report a cop stole their drugs? What a
set up. It’s my guess that the guy that shot Ray with his own gun is a small
timer, this Lyons. I couldn’t pick him out of arrest photos. He’s managed not
to have an arrest record and he had sunglasses on. He’s dropped off the map.
Maybe he wanted to take over the action. Maybe he was hired by the dealers. An
informer said he was scared shitless of Ray. Maybe he solved that problem. But
now he’s a cop killer. The fact that he’s gone underground would seem to
confirm it. But it doesn’t jibe somehow for me.

“What are you going to do?”
Mo waited while Zack looked thoughtful unconsciously rubbing her thumb on his
hand.

“I’m not even supposed to be
touching this. I’m not supposed to be anywhere near it. A cop called Bull, best
not give you his whole name, is the chief investigator on Ray’s shooting. I
hear from the lady he’s looking to fill Ray’s shoes, in more ways than one. All
I can do is turn what info I have into internal affairs, but this Bull is
internal affairs and there’s no proof. Of course IA talked to the lady.
Assholes know I’m clean but are taking their sweet time to clear me and they
seem to have their reasons. Everything right under my nose. What a fool Ray
must have thought I was.”

Their sandwiches came, the
waiter topped off Zack’s coffee. “Enjoy your sandwiches,” she said with a tired
smile.

“You can’t blame yourself for
his dishonesty. He used your trust. Used his position. Lied to his wife. Oh,
gosh, his poor wife.” Neither of them touched their sandwiches.

“I don’t think I could ever
tell Marge about that woman.” Zack kept stirring his coffee lost in thought
until Mo cleared her throat. 

“It’s going to come out isn’t
it? I mean, you have to be cleared. The scam has to be stopped.  Cops
dealing drugs?” She caught herself and lowered her voice. “What kind of drugs?”