Scottsdale Heat: a romantic light-hearted murder mystery (Laura Black Mysteries Book 1) (8 page)

“Yeah, him. Well, his name was Dusty and it didn’t last more than a few weeks. Since then, I really haven’t had time to get involved with anyone else.”

OK, so that was a big fat fib. After I found out about Dusty boinking the aerobics instructor, I totally swore off men for a couple of months.
Jeez,
I thought, an aerobics instructor. How 80’s can you get? She probably wore pink leg warmers while he was doing her. Since then, I haven’t found anybody I wanted to be with, at least anybody who wanted to be with me too.

Dominic, the waiter, came by with a basket of bread. The menu hadn’t changed from the last time we were here and we each ordered our favorite lunch. His was still the grilled chicken breast and a side of steamed vegetables. I had the sausage sandwich, an extra side of marinara, fries, and garlic bread.

“You wanted to talk cop business?” Reno asked.

“I’m looking into a guy named Alexander Sternwood,” I said. “He’s from a wealthy Paradise Valley family, although he hasn’t inherited his share yet. All of the sudden he’s come into a lot of money. It’s possible he gets his money by selling things that don’t belong to him. Do you know anything about a fence at a store called Meyer’s Jewelers on 32nd Street over in Phoenix?”

Reno thought about it for a moment. “The guy who runs the jewelry store is Jimmy Meyer. He’s been around for years. He used to be muscle for a crime family out of New York. If our information is right, he still maintains a loose connection with organized crime through the DiCenzo family. Twenty years ago, he was one of Arizona’s biggest fences for high-end merchandise: paintings, sculptures, jewelry, and those sorts of things. Now he’s semi-retired and is only involved in small stuff, at least as far as we know.”

He leaned closer to me. “The part that interests me is how you know about the art gallery at the Tropical Paradise. We just found out about it last month. Since the Tropical Paradise is controlled by the DiCenzo family, we think there is a connection between the family and the fencing operation there.”

The DiCenzos are Scottsdale’s largest crime family. Of course, since we’re talking about Scottsdale, the DiCenzos are pretty much Scottsdale’s only crime family. They have a controlling interest in about a quarter of the Scottsdale resorts including the upscale Scottsdale Blue Palms and the Scottsdale Tropical Paradise.

If you believe what they print in the paper, they also handle illegal aliens coming into the U.S., private gambling, high-end prostitution, and illegal arms traffic -- both in Phoenix and those smuggled over the border into Mexico and Central America. Rumor also had it they were in the process of trying to broaden their influence into narcotics. Maybe it was because of the economic cycle we were in.

The head of the family is Anthony “Tough Tony”
DiCenzo. According to an article I had read, he had relocated to Scottsdale from New York about twenty-five years earlier. Some say the move was voluntary, some say otherwise. In either case, after he had taken over, things had always remained relatively quiet in Scottsdale, at least quiet as far as turf wars were concerned. Stories in the paper about organized crime were rare in Scottsdale. The family’s activities were usually kept well below the public radar. Tony DiCenzo ran crime in the city like a business and everybody got their share.

“I take it you saw Sternwood make a sale at the Tropical Paradise,” Reno said. “When was this?”

“Yesterday, about noon.”

Reno pulled his cop notebook from his back pocket. He flipped a few pages, then looked up at me. His face had an odd expression.

“When your guy was at the Tropical Paradise, who’d he make the sale to?”

“At first there was just a woman there. Then a man showed up. He got there just after Alex arrived.”

The man,” Reno asked. “What did he look like?”

“Umm, he was medium height and thin. Somewhere in the neighborhood of fifty. He looked like he worked out a lot. He had a short blonde hair, a gray beard, and moustache. He was businesslike, but the guy gave me the creeps. He had these small watery eyes and the lids were red, like he had allergies or something.”

Dominic brought the lunches to the table. The wonderful aromas wafting up from the plates reminded me how hungry I was. Neither of us spoke for several minutes, each attending to business.

“The woman who works there is named Ingrid Shanker,” Reno said between bites. “She isn’t so much involved with the high-end fencing, more of a bookkeeper. The man you saw is most likely Albert Reinhart. He’s better known as the Iceman. He spends most of his time in Europe, but is known to come into the U.S. two or three times a year. Usually to Palm Springs or Scottsdale. His specialty is jewelry and fine art, usually acting as a middleman. He has a reputation for being an honest broker for his clients. He can spot a fake within seconds and apparently won’t let a client pay money for something not genuine; at least that’s what we hear.”

“So how do you know so much about this guy?” I asked. “You sound like freakin’ Google.”

“It’s funny you ran into him,” Reno said, ignoring me. “We knew he came into town last week for what was supposed to be a major buy. Word had it he was going to be a middleman on something special. I was on a team monitoring him when the deal seemed to fall apart. Reinhart’s usual MO is to come into town in the morning, conduct business, and then leave that same night. Instead, he just checked into the Scottsdale Princess resort and has spent a week golfing and laying by the pool. It’s possible he just came here for a vacation, but I doubt it. I think something went wrong.”

“But what about my guy?” I asked. “Is it possible Reinhart came into Scottsdale for a buy with Alex?”

“We’ve had people shadowing Reinhardt since he came into town last week. Our guys saw him meeting with an unknown man at the art gallery at the Tropical Paradise yesterday, possibly even making a minor buy. They’re in the process of tracking him down, but I’ll let them know it was your guy Alexander.”

“Why didn’t they stop the buy?”

“It was the detective’s judgment it wasn’t important enough to interfere in or even call for backup. You can tell when something big is going down and our guys didn’t think this was it. It’s doubtful the Iceman flew here for Alexander. He only deals in amounts above a million dollars, usually over ten. Unless your guy had a suitcase full of merchandise, the Iceman didn’t come here for him. We know Reinhardt always leaves the country immediately after his buy goes down. Since he’s still here, we’re assuming it hasn’t happened yet. Perhaps he took on Alex as a spur of the moment thing, or maybe his main deal fell through and he was looking for something to make the trip worthwhile, who knows?”

“If you have people on Reinhart, that still doesn’t explain why didn’t you go after him when he bought from Alex?”

“You know how this works,” Reno said, his tone patient. “You never go after a big fish unless you catch him doing something big. If you picked him up every time he spit on the sidewalk, you’ll never make the big bust.”

I knew this, of course, it just bothered me something like that could take place without anybody making too much of a fuss about it.

“Do you know anything about Arizona Security Enterprises?” I asked. “They’ve been following Alex around since yesterday. They look pretty serious, but more like thugs than anything else.”

“No, but they’re not one of ours. I can ask around.”

As he was talking, I looked at his wrist and saw he was wearing the watch I had given him the year before.

“You’re still wearing the watch?” I asked.

He looked down at it and shrugged. “It’s a good watch.”

“Do you think of me when you put it on?”

“I try not to.”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as Dominic brought over coffee. Reno picked up the small pitcher of cream and poured it into his cup. He stared at it, watching the coffee as the cream blended in.

“So why’d you really call me?” he asked. “Don’t you know any other cops you can pump for information?”

“Let’s just say I’ve had some very positive thoughts about you over the last few days.”

He arched his eyebrow, but to his credit didn’t say anything.

~~~~

After lunch, I drove up Hayden to Gainey Ranch. I doubted Alex was with Danica, but I had to start looking somewhere. I went into Danica’s neighborhood and then did a slow drive-by past her house. Most of the interior shutters had been closed and there wasn’t a sign of life in any of the other windows.

I parked a block away and strolled over to her house. Walking past it didn’t yield any more information than the drive-by. I continued to the end of the block and turned the corner. Danica lived in a newer subdivision where the backyards butted up to each other and there were no alleys. I continued around the block until I was directly behind Danica’s house. Unfortunately, the view from this angle didn’t show anything new. I was debating the merits of hopping the wall and seeing if Danica had left a door or window open when my cell phone rang.

“Hey Laura,” Sophie said. “Lenny says to get your skinny butt down here right away.”

“You can tell Lenny he can kiss my skinny butt.”

“No way, I can’t tell him
that
. He’d spend the afternoon fanaticizing about it. I think he’s going commando today and I don’t want to see him walking around the office all afternoon with a stiffy. You know how that grossed me out the last time.”

“Alright, I’ll be right over. What’s Lenny want?”

“I don’t know, but he asked for Gina too. She’ll be here in about ten minutes.”

“Didn’t Lenny even give a hint?”

“No, but he’s in with a client now. Probably has something to do with him. Speaking of butts, you should see the client. This guy’s got an ass as good as Jon Bon Jovi.”

“Bon Jovi? Have you been watching his old videos again?”

“They had a Bon Jovi special on VH-1 Classic last night. The man might be getting older, but I still want to have his baby.”

“I’ll be there in about twenty minutes, but save butt man for me. My libido’s running in the red zone right now.”

“So, you’re interested in men again? It’s about time.”

“I’ve always been interested in men, just more so today.”

“Really? How bad is it?” Sophie asked.

“Just do me a favor. If I proposition Lenny, throw some cold water on me. Or better yet, shoot me.”

“Sex with Lenny?
Eeeeyuuww
gross!”

“I was kidding!”

~~~~

When I got to the office, Sophie and Gina were having an animated conversation about Shawn Phillips, a guy Sophie had met at a Christmas party a few weeks before. They had been having this exact same conversation ever since Sophie found out Shawn was married. Of course, she had found this out on their second date and she’d dated him several times since.

“Hey Sophie,” I said. “I thought you said you had broken up with that loser?”

“Well I am now, for good this time. I was telling Gina we had a date set up for tonight. He was going to take me to that amazing rotating restaurant at the top of the downtown Hyatt, the
Compass Room
. But he just called ten minutes ago to tell me he couldn’t make it. His wife got tickets to an opera at the Herberger Theatre for tonight and she had forgotten to tell him about it until today. He’s leaving me to sit home alone just so he won’t cause a scene at his house.”

“But you knew he was married,” Gina said, in a motherly tone. “I would imagine this sort of thing is just going to happen from time to time.”

“Well,” Sophie said, waving her finger a Gina. “That does it for me, epic fail. That man is a good-for-nothing lying piece of dog shi…” Sophie’s words trailed off. I looked at her. It’s not like Sophie not to finish her favorite insult.

She was staring at the door to Lenny’s office. Her lips puckered and I heard her give a soft
“Ooooohh.”

I saw Gina glance over, then she give a little moan of pleasure.
“Yummy.”

I turned my head to see what was causing the commotion.

There, in the doorway to Lenny’s office, stood a man. I saw he was looking directly at me through an expensive pair of tinted glasses. I saw his eyes going down to my feet and then slowly back up, stopping to linger over my boobs.

That’s just great, I thought to myself. He’s staring at me like I’m a piece of meat.

Who is this guy?

He was somewhere in his mid-thirties and tall, well over six feet. He looked lean, solid, and strong. I turned towards him, taking him in. His hair was short and dark. His face was angular, his lips were full and sensuous, his expression was serious. His skin was the color of mocha and he was gorgeous. He reminded me of the former pro-wrestler, now actor, Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. He was wearing a closely-tailored gray suit, black shirt, and metallic silver tie. His black shoes looked Italian and soft as butter. My eyes started back up from the shoes and I couldn’t help noticing the sizeable bulge of his package.

Wow.

I felt my face flush with heat.

Get a hold of yourself
.

My eyes lingered a moment longer on the ample bulge. I felt my heart start to pound and my stomach did a flip-flop. I looked back up into the tinted glasses, wanting to see his eyes. I searched his face and then felt his eyes lock onto mine. The air between us seemed electric as he sized me up. He stared for a second longer and cracked a slight smile. He then slowly walked toward me.