Jason Deas - Cameron Caldwell 01 - Private Eye (3 page)

“You don’t believe me?”

“I do believe you,” Daphne said. “I want to know if what you come up with is what I have in mind.”

“Write it down and we’ll do it.”

Daphne popped up and ran behind the counter. She grabbed a pen and an order pad. She jotted down one sentence and folded the paper twice. She walked back to the booth and dropped the folded piece of paper on the center of the table. She sat back down.

“I think I want to change my mind,” Cam said. “I like you and I’m hopefully going to be working next to you for years to come. I don’t want to know.”

“So, I can count on you being drunk every day for the next few years?”

“No. I just won’t look you in the eyes.”

“Sounds like a wonderful friendship,” Daphne said, raising her voice.

“I don’t have friends for this reason,” Cam answered, raising his own.

Daphne grabbed his hands. “Look at me. You need at least one.”

Cam froze with her touch. He raised his eyes and looked into hers. It didn’t happen immediately because of the alcohol. He looked deeply. He stared. And finally, it flashed. His head jerked to the side and back again. In her eyes he saw her darkness. In the vision Daphne was ten years old. He saw Claude as well. Claude was with a dog and images flashed that showed the dog chewing on things in Daphne’s room and peeing on a rug beside her bed. The images flashed again and Daphne was letting the dog out of the house in the middle of the night. The visual faded as the dog wandered off into a shadow.

“I got it,” Cam said.

Daphne picked up the paper from the center of the table.

“Do you think it’s the same as this?” she asked holding the paper up.

“Probably. It’s not bad.” Cam drank. “You let Claude’s dog go. It chewed on your stuff and peed in your room. I don’t blame you.”

Although Daphne said she believed him, the power of the situation hit her at the same time as the words. She began to cry.

“You really didn’t believe me?”

“I thought I did. I guess I didn’t. I don’t know.”

“Do you think I’m a freak?”

“No. I think it’s really cool. I can see why you’re a private investigator. You should be a cop.”

“I was, for fifteen years. The Chief in my old town was sort of like a father figure to me. I had a hard time dealing with my parents after I could see into them. The Chief was a good man and gave me hope for humanity. Unfortunately, he changed. Corrupted by power, I guess. Every time I looked at him it was something new. I couldn’t take it. I started drinking vodka on the job thinking nobody could smell it. I’m pretty sure people knew, but they put up with it because I could solve just about any case. I was known as a master interrogator. If they did it, I knew. I provided details and got confessions. If I saw something worse in their eyes that they’d done, I made them believe we had evidence. I told them if they fessed up to the crime at hand, I would forget about the other more serious crimes. They almost always did.”

Cam paused.

“And let me guess the ending.”

Cam nodded.

“You reached your breaking point and flipped.”

“I did. One day I was too hung over to drink and came to work sober. I looked at the Chief and saw a murder cover up in his eyes. As I looked around I saw it in his brother’s eyes as well. We had a dirty station.”

“So what’d you do?”

“What I always do when trouble strikes. I got drunk. Piss drunk in my patrol car. I’m probably on a very short list of people who have gotten a DUI while driving a police car. When I got out, or fell out of the car, one of the dirty officers was there. I punched him in the face and when he dropped to the ground I ripped my shirt off and pounded my chest. It was pretty ugly.”

Daphne laughed. “I’m sorry,” she said covering her mouth as if she could take it back. “It’s quite a visual.”

“Long story short, they told me if I disappeared they would drop all the charges. If I stayed, they promised to collaborate and pin the murder charges on me. The murder they were responsible for!”

“So you told them what you knew?”

“Yeah. It didn’t work.”

“Damn.”

“Damn is right. I packed up my stuff and left town.”

“Do you plan on ever going back to make things right?”

“Yeah, one day, but right now I gotta disappear and make them think I’ve forgotten about it. If I go back right now, it’s not going to bring anybody back from the dead.”

“But, they’re corrupt.”

“Daphne, half the world is corrupt. It’s sad but true.”

“I don’t want to believe that.”

“Then don’t. I don’t want to believe it either.”

Chapter Four

The following morning, Cam sat at his office desk nursing a screwdriver. He watched a black Crown Vic park in front of his building. The door opened and a striking Latina woman emerged from the vehicle wearing black slacks and a white blouse. Her jet black hair was tied back in a tight ponytail and Cam scooted forward in his chair to get a better glimpse. Her face looked dead serious, hard as nails and angelic all at once. Cam flushed with her beauty and the alcohol running through his veins.

She pushed open the door like she owned the place and asked, “Cameron Caldwell?”

“You found him,” Cam smiled.

“Don’t feel special. I hear you’re a drunk. But I also hear you’re pretty talented at investigating and especially interrogating, and I’m at my wits’ end.”

She walked over to the desk and Cam got a good look at her face. He swallowed hard as she was even more intriguing up close. Her eyes blazed with an almost golden tint. Her lips almost sent him to his knees. The buzz in his brain told his hand to reach out and touch her skin, but somehow he resisted.

“Blanca Gomez,” she said, introducing herself and reaching her hand across the desk.

Cam stood. “Cameron Caldwell.” She squeezed his hand tightly and he liked it. Cam didn’t want her to let go.

“Turner said you had a crappy office, but this is even worse than I imagined.”

“I’m working on it.”

“Mind if I sit?”

“If you don’t mind sitting on an old crappy folding chair.” Cam grinned but Blanca ignored his attempt to be charming.

“I do, but I’m tired and it’ll have to do. I was up all night. It’s a long story, but I’ve got a lady in lock-up who I know is hiding her daughter from her ex-husband. It’s a nasty custody battle.”

“What are you holding her on?”

“Terroristic threats against the ex.”

“And you’re sure she knows where the kid is?”

“Positive.”

“How can I help?”

“Turner delivered some pizzas and subs to the station yesterday and was talking you up. Asking if we needed your help with any cases. This morning I decided to do a web search with your name.”

Cam dipped his head and blushed.

Blanca smiled for the first time. “Yeah, I saw the DUI arrest video. Do you know it has over 120,000 hits on YouTube?”

“That’s 120,000 more than I’d like.”

“After I watched it a couple times I read all the stories I could find about you solving cold cases. Seems like you have a gift.”

With the word gift, Cam reached for his beverage and shrunk into his chair. Blanca noticed.

“Let me rephrase that—you have a knack for it. I didn’t mean that you’re a psychic or anything. I don’t believe in that stuff.” Blanca shifted in the chair and it creaked and moaned under her. “All the articles point out how you’re able to make major jumps in cases. Good detectives can do that.”

Again Cam asked, “So how can I help?”

“I want you to interrogate her.”

“Did Turner tell you how much I charge?”

“Yeah,” Blanca said, reaching into her pocket. She tossed three, one hundred dollar bills onto his desk.

“We seem to be missing a couple of things here,” Cam picked up the cash.

“I’ll throw in all the coffee you can drink.”

“Deal,” Cam said, cracking a smile.

This time Blanca smiled back.

The Miner’s Bluff police station blended in with the town. From a distance, it looked like any other vacation cottage with its pitched roof, brown paint, and seemingly endless amount of windows. Up close one could tell the building was fortified with its brown brick sides and cameras. Everywhere he looked, Cam saw cameras.

Finishing his first cup of coffee, Cam said, “Oh, I forgot one thing.”

“Why do I feel like I’m not going to like this?”

“That would be because you’re not.”

“What is it?”

“No cameras, no audio recordings, no looking through two way glass, no listening or watching of any kind.”

“You gonna waterboard her or something?” Blanca took a step toward Cam. “Are you going to get physical in any way?”

“No. I swear I won’t touch her.”

“You promise?”

Cam nodded his head.

“If she tells me you did, this will be the last time I ever use you. I might even find a reason to keep you in lock-up for a day or two.”

“Fine. And how can I be sure the cameras in the interrogation room won’t be turned on?”

“You have my word. What’s the big deal with cameras?”

“I don’t want to be on YouTube again.”

Blanca shifted her eyes at him and held in a smile.

Cam entered the interrogation room. He guessed the woman sitting at the table was in her late thirties. He surmised she either had money or lived like she did. Her fingernails were manicured, her face was perfect even after a night in jail, and she looked very uncomfortable and out of place in an orange jumpsuit. She held herself like people with money oftentimes do behind bars. Cam had seen the type before. She was unbelieving of her misfortune, without her freedom—and still in a bit of shock.

“Jail sucks, doesn’t it?” Cam tried sitting down at the table with his fresh cup of coffee. He handed her one as well. “It’s black, but pretty good for station coffee I must say.”

“And who are you?” the lady said, looking at the cup of coffee.

“A private investigator.”

“I already told Señorita Cranky that I didn’t know anything.”

“I just met her, but she does seem wound a bit tight. I’m glad it’s not just me.”

The lady smiled into the coffee as she took a drink.

“Then how did they find you if you really just met her?”

“I just moved to town a few days ago. I’m in the midst of setting up a private practice and Officer Gomez, aka Señorita Cranky, wanted a fresh set of eyes on this case. Let me ask you a question.”

“I don’t know where she is.”

“No. I’m still on Officer Gomez. Is she always so intense?”

“I’m afraid so. I met her once before this all happened and I thought she was going to pull her gun and shoot me. She was royally pissed.”

The lady continued to look down into the coffee.

“What did you do to make her so angry?”

“Speeding in a school zone.”

“You devil!” Cam said.

The lady looked up and laughed. Cam caught her eyes but the effects of his vodka and orange juice breakfast were still wearing off and he needed longer.

“I didn’t catch your name,” Cam said.

“It’s Alice. Alice Prescott.” This time she looked into his eyes for recognition. Cam’s eyes didn’t show any. “You really must have just moved here if that name doesn’t ring a bell.”

“I only know a few people. I can get to work and back home, and that’s about it. I don’t even know where the Wal-Mart is.”

“We don’t have one.”

“No wonder I can’t find it.”

“Who do you know?”

“Well, I only know them by their first names, but I’ve met a Daphne, Claude, Turner, and a nice guy at a gas station. I can’t remember his name, but he sure was nice.”

“That’s Hank. He is nice. We call him the world’s nicest guy.”

“I’m buying what you’re selling.”

“Let me give you a thirty second town history.”

Alice looked Cam in the eyes for a second before hers turned upward to think of where to start.

“The Prescotts were some of the first people in this town, and a Prescott has always been mayor. My ex-husband, Billy Prescott is mayor now. He owns just about everything worth owning in town. And he also thinks he should own our daughter, but we can get back to that later. As of late, there seems to be a division in town. It involves two of the people you happen to know. The Newmans.”

Cam shrugged.

“Daphne and Claude are Newmans.” Cam nodded. “Daphne and Claude’s family has been here nearly as long as the Prescotts. The two families own a pivotal piece of land involved in heated discussions with an outside party who wants to develop it into a ski slope.”

“Skiing? In Georgia?”

“Hey, we’re only a few miles away from North Carolina. Believe me, the company wanting to buy it has done a lot of research into the climate, and they think they have a good idea of how many probable days they would be open for business each year. They even have plans for the off-season. People can ride the lift up for the view, and stuff like that. Problem is, the land is divided almost perfectly in half—Prescott land on one side and Newman land on the other.”

“Let me guess. Your ex wants to sell and the Newmans don’t?”

“Correct.”

“Now,” Cam said, touching her hand across the table. “Let’s get back to your daughter.”

“He’s taking his anger for me out on her.”

“How long have the two of you been divorced?”

“Just a year. In my heart I’ve been divorced for ten years. If he hasn’t slept with every woman in town, just give him time.”

“That kind, huh?”

“Yeah. Power and money sometimes make men think they can have anything they want. I looked the other way at first, but it got so blatant that I couldn’t do it anymore. The final straw was when my daughter saw him with another woman at the drive-in.”

“Wait,” Cam said. “I don’t mean to get off topic, but this town has a drive-in?”

“Yeah. My daughter was there with a friend and her mom. My husband pulled in a few cars over. She said they didn’t watch any of the movie.”

“How old is your daughter?”

“Fourteen.” 

“And then what happened?”

“She was confused and incredibly upset.”

Cam tried to catch her eye, but her eyes constantly shifted with her animation. She spoke with her hands and looked around the room as she talked.