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Authors: Sonnjea Blackwell

Tags: #murder, #california, #small town, #baseball, #romantic mystery, #humorous mystery, #gravel yard

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“And if I confess, Danny and Kevin are off
the hook for the body shop? You’ll let it alone?”

“Yes.”

“And Alex?”

“Alex is a loose cannon. I wish she would’ve
stayed in southern California. She’s always been the favorite, the
baby of the family, and my parents let her ruin me.” What, was he
six now? And besides, anyone could see that he was their favorite.
Brian sighed audibly. “Alex still needs to go. But if you confess,
I promise it’ll be quick. It’ll look like a suicide. Everyone will
assume she was distraught about her lover going to prison.”

“No deal.”
Whump
.

Dammit, Mikey, I thought.

“Look, I’m not an evil person.” What the hell
was his definition? “I’m not excited about having Bruno hurt my
sister, one way or the other. But you’re not in a position to
negotiate. You have two choices. Alex can die quickly, painlessly,
or Alex can die a slow, agonizing death. Either way, Alex dies.
Your call.”

“Fine, I’ll confess. What do you want me to
do?” His voice was sounding strained, and I picked up the cell
phone. I guessed we had a lot for Jimmy C to throw at Brian, even
though he hadn’t specifically copped to the body shop murder. “Wait
a second,” Mikey said, and I was pretty sure he was talking to me.
I set the cell phone back on the desk.

“What?”
Whump
.

“As long as I’m going to get a lethal
injection for something I didn’t do, you mind telling me what this
whole thing was about?”

He’ll never tell him, I thought. Brian
laughed a sick laugh. “Why not? That little jerk Chambers was
blackmailing me. I was an occasional customer, and when I decided
to run for office, Chambers threatened to show his little black
book to the press. He demanded five thousand dollars, and I paid
it. I was pretty sure he didn’t have a little black book, he was
too stoned and stupid to keep records, but you can never be too
careful in politics. You have to be above reproach. Anyway, he came
back and wanted another ten, and then another. I could see it was
never going to stop, so I stopped it.”

“With a forty-five?”

“Right between the eyes.” He sounded proud of
that.

Whump
. “And the fires? Who’d you get
to do the arsons?”

“What, I can’t set a lousy fire? I’m an
insurance broker. I’ve seen dozens of fire reports. They’re like a
tutorial. I made the body shop look professional, figuring the cops
would think it was your mob buddies. Then Frick and Frack showed
up. Too bad about Kevin, but that’s what happens when you’re not
careful about who you associate with. So anyhow, if it wasn’t the
mob, it was the fire captain. Either way, it wasn’t me. The fire at
Henderson’s place was even easier, the wires were already bad. I
just introduced a couple of them to each other. Idiot fire
inspectors never even suspected arson.”

That was everything. I hit
call
on the
cell phone and waited an eternity for Jimmy C to pick up. Come on,
come on.

“Jimmy C.” I’d never heard him introduce
himself before, and I thought about calling myself Alex J. It
didn’t sound right, so I forgot about it.

“Hey, it’s Alex. Listen, I have my brother
Brian on tape, confessing to the body shop thing. He and a giant
Samoan called Bruno are holding Junior Salazar at gunpoint inside
the gravel yard office. I’m at the body shop. The giant Samoan’s
Bronco is parked out front, and the driver’s still in it, so I
can’t leave the office without being seen.”

Jimmy C let out a long breath. “Okay, time
for the cavalry. Don’t move. Do you have any way of contacting
Junior so he knows we’re coming?”

“I can call him on his cell, but I don’t know
if Brian will let him answer it.”

“Try it. Tell him to stay away from the
windows if he can, and to be ready to cover his face. We may have
to use tear gas. What’s your number?”

I gave him my number and dialed Mikey’s cell
phone. I’d missed the last bit on the recording, and I didn’t know
what they were talking about, but when Mikey’s phone rang, I heard
Brian say, “See who it is.”

“Salazar.”

“The cops are on the way. Stay away from the
window, and be ready for tear gas.”

“Yeah, corned beef sounds great, Ma.
Thanks.”

The next few minutes felt like weeks. Bruno
seemed to be taking a break while Mikey wrote out a confession that
Brian dictated. The blinds in the office were closed, but I didn’t
see how the cops were going to be able to get in without being seen
by the guy in the Bronco.

Just then a bright red VW pulled into the
lot. Pauline. Holy shit, I thought, what’s she doing here? I pushed
the speed dial number for her cell phone. Pauline jumped out of the
Bug and stalked across the lot, towards the door. I saw her pause
and reach in her purse. I stood up, switched the cell phone to my
left hand and wrapped my right hand around the Glock. Both front
doors of the Bronco opened and two men in suits stepped out. They
looked like insurance salesmen.

“Kevin?”

“Dammit, Pauline. See the suits? Go flirt
with them.” The men were walking towards her, reaching into their
jackets. She looked at the men approaching her. “Trust me, it’ll
help Kevin. The cops are on their way. Distract them.” She dropped
the cell phone back in her purse and turned towards the goons, a
blinding smile on her face. I hadn’t noticed any movement inside
Mikey’s office, so I guessed Brian hadn’t heard anything.

Pauline walked towards the goons, extending
her hand. Goon Number One took it and held on to it too long.
Pauline smiled up at him and I thought I might hurl again. Goon
Number Two was antsy for his turn, and she turned and beamed at
him.

I opened the door and crouched, crab walking
as fast as I could across the lot. The goons were fixated on
Pauline. I saw a police cruiser about a quarter of a mile up the
road, followed by three unmarked cars, coming fast. The goons
hadn’t spotted them yet, and I sprinted the last twenty-five yards
to the Bronco. I took cover behind the front of the car, and waited
for the cruiser to close in. Goon Number One spotted it just as it
started to turn into the lot. He reached inside his jacket, and
Goon Number Two followed suit. I stood up and raised the Glock over
the hood of the car.

“Pauline, move! Drop the guns!” Pauline dove
towards the Beetle, and the goons swung towards me. The patrol car
fishtailed to a stop, spewing cops, and the goons were on the
ground before they’d ever gotten their hands out of their jackets.
The unmarked cars sped in, and Jimmy C, Abigail Morrissey and
several other detectives raced towards the door, guns drawn, just
as Bruno stuck his head out to see what the commotion was. Abigail,
dressed in a very fashionable pantsuit that suggested banker more
than cop, slammed Bruno back against the door and pushed past him
into the office. Jimmy C cuffed Bruno, and then Abbie brought Brian
out in cuffs. Mikey followed, hunched forward and holding his ribs.
Not a single shot was fired.

Jimmy C turned his attention to the Bronco.
He drew his weapon and opened the back passenger-side door. I
couldn’t see what he saw, but apparently it wasn’t threatening,
because he holstered his gun. He reached into the car and pulled my
brother out. His hands were bound behind him, and he had duct tape
across his mouth. Jimmy C motioned to another detective, who came
around to my side of the car and opened the door, pulling Danny
out. He was similarly bound. He stared at me, wide eyed, and shook
his head. He didn’t look happy.

Everyone, Brian, Bruno, Mikey, Goons Number
One and Two, and Danny and Kevin, were loaded into separate police
cars that seemed to be arriving now in a never-ending stream, and
carted off to the station. Jimmy C found me and pulled me
aside.

“You’re a mess,” he said.

“What?” I looked down and saw my hands were
covered with soot and ash from Jenkins’ office. “Oh.”

“It’s all over your back, too. I’ll need the
gun, Alex.”

I’d forgotten I was still holding it. I
flipped it around and handed it to him butt-first. “I didn’t shoot
anybody.”

He nodded. “Terrific. Should we go get that
tape?”

We walked back to the body shop. I shut off
the recording and started to pop the tape out, but Jimmy C stopped
me. “I’ll just take the whole machine, if you don’t mind.”

I shrugged. “It cost a hundred bucks, so can
I get it back when you’re done with it? I want to return it.”

“You’ll get it back. I know I shouldn’t ask,
but how did you get in here?”

“The door was unlocked?” I asked.

“Of course it was, what was I thinking?” He
looked over at the parade of police cars now leaving from the
gravel yard. “You and Pauline can drive yourselves to the station,
but don’t take too long about it, okay?”

Jimmy C left and I gathered up my Sears bag
and the box the phone machine had come in. I set the vomit-laden
trashcan outside, locking the door behind me. I went around the
back and got into my Honda, grateful again for the
industrial-strength stain repellent built into the seats, and drove
across the lots to Pauline’s ladybug-mobile. She was sitting on the
back bumper, picking gravel out of her palm. I got out and stood in
front of her.

“I know there’s a logical explanation for all
of this,” she snapped, throwing little rocks at my feet. “I know my
boyfriend, your brother, did not kill anybody, set any fires, or do
whatever it was that brought out the entire goddamn police force
just now. And I know you are damn well going to tell me the entire
story, right fucking now.”

“Jimmy C wants me at the police station,
right fucking now,” I answered, “so come with me, and I’ll tell
you.”

“Fine.”

She got her purse and locked the Bug, and we
got in the Element. I drove. Pauline glared.

“It was sort of looking like Brian might have
been the one who shot Lonnie Chambers and set the fire,” I started.
“I didn’t know why. So Mikey and I staged a little fake make-out
session at Bri’s fundraiser last night...”

“You sure it was fake?”

“...which pushed him over the edge. He had
those goons pick up Danny and Kev sometime today. He was going to
stage my rather unpleasant, and I might add, extremely untimely,
demise, making it look like Mikey killed me. Then he was going to
kill Mikey, making it look like Danny and Kevin killed him. They
would go to jail forever, no one would be around to prove Brian did
the body shop thing, and the police would stop looking because they
always believed it was the Salazars and Kevin anyway.”

“And you know this how?”

“Brian set up a meeting with Mikey. We taped
the whole thing. He confessed to the body shop, the fires, hiring
someone to kill me, fucking global warming, practically. Course,
the Samoan wonder-thug beat the shit out of Mikey in the process,
but I guess it was worth it to him.”

“That’s why you wanted me to get Kevin to
turn himself in? So Brian couldn’t pick him up?”

I shook my head. “I had no idea, I was just
having a really bad feeling and I figured a jail cell was at least
safe.”

She nodded, catching up.

“What the hell were you doing there?” I
asked. I still hadn’t figured that out. I turned off Highway 59
onto Olive and got stuck behind a tractor.

“Should’ve gone down Sixteenth, it’s faster.
When Kevin didn’t return my calls all day, I called the police
department. They said he hadn’t been arrested, so I knew something
had happened. Since no one told their best friend anything about
what was going on, I didn’t know Junior was one of the good guys.
He was the only suspect other than Kev and Danny, so I was coming
over to get some goddamn answers. Good thing, too. ’Cause, no
offense, but you look like shit, and there’s not a chance in hell
you would have distracted those guys looking like that.” She was
being mean because she was annoyed with me, but I thought I maybe
could have distracted them a little, if I hadn’t gotten too
close.

“Not even the earrings?”

She peered at my ears. “Those are nice,” she
agreed. “Junior give ’em to you?”

Big sigh. “By the way, today would have been
an excellent opportunity to use your stun gun.”

“Crap, I forgot I had it! You should have
reminded me instead of telling me to flirt with them.” She looked
out the side window and tapped her fingernails on the armrest.
“Look, I’m your best friend. You’re supposed to tell me everything.
Those are the rules, and you aren’t playing right. I didn’t hold
the Danny thing against you because the statute of limitations had
run out. But you’re not getting any more free passes. Spill, or the
crazy cat lady is going to be your only friend. Where’d you get the
earrings?”

“I promise you, I’m not involved with Mikey.
I bought the earrings myself.”

“Why should I believe you?”

I turned onto McKinley Street, finally rid of
the tractor. “Well, I slept with Danny yesterday, for
starters.”

Apparently, those were the magic words, the
juicy bit of best-friend gossip that would erase all my previous
omissions. Her face changed in a nanosecond, eyes shiny, eyebrows
elevated, a smile instead of the annoyed frown. She leaned so far
forward, I had visions of the airbag deploying in an accident and
sending her hurtling through the back window.

“And?”

I pictured his face when he got out of the
Bronco. “And now I’m pretty sure he’s not talking to me.”

“You were that bad? Did you forget how, being
married to Max for so long?” Jeez, why did everyone jump to the
conclusion that I was lousy in bed?

“He’s not talking to me because he told me to
stay out of this mess, and instead I surveilled Brian and went
traipsing around with a gun. It’s not because I forgot how to do
anything. I remember fine, thank you very much.”

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