Totally Fishy (A Miller Sisters Mystery) (28 page)

Read Totally Fishy (A Miller Sisters Mystery) Online

Authors: Gale Borger

Tags: #Mystery

Fred narrowed her eyes and leaned closer to Armand. "No," she said slowly. "I think I want to talk about Armand now."

I thought I had better say something to my big mouthed sister. "Uh, just drop it, Fred. Maybe he's shy."

Evo gave me a grateful look and said, "Uh, yes. Let's talk about our plans once we get downtown."

Fred moved even closer to Armand. "Are you really shy, Armand? Or do you just not want to be the one who tells us you are a cop?"

"A cop," Sam squeaked.

I sighed and agreed. "A cop. A Fed, I'd bet. CIA?"

Armand winced and then sighed. "ATF," and then, "Damn."

Fred's eyes widened and quickly narrowed. "What is Alcohol Tobacco and Firearms doing down here? And why are you driving us around in a Limo?"

I butted in. "If he told us he'd have to kill us.
Right,
Armand?"

"Uh, yeah. Right."

Fred persisted. She inched toward Armand and he began to squirm in earnest. I reached through the divider and grabbed Fred by the hair. I gave it a good yank and was rewarded with a loud screech and her full attention being diverted to the back seat.

I got in her face and said through clenched teeth, "Shut
up
, Fred, and leave him alone. Evo and Armand will tell us what is going on in good time." She opened her mouth and I held up a hand. "
Eh
." She stopped. "If you want to stay in this limo, if you want to continue on with the grownups, you will cease and desist right now. Do you understand?"

She lowered her head, but I could still see the green smoke coming out of her ears. "Okay," she mumbled, and flopped back on her side of the car. I saw Armand wipe sweat off his forehead and chuckled to myself.
Poor Armand
,
little Fred is a lethal weapon when she turns on the charm and starts pumping for information.

Armand drove up to the main entrance of Evo's building and wove his way around the police and emergency vehicles. He stopped as close as he could to the front doors and let us out. The security guard on the door recognized Evo and with some pretty slick fast talk, we headed up to his office.

We exited the elevator and had to step around a garbage can. An officer rushed up and Evo had to do the song-and-dance-routine once again to get us down the hall. The door to Evo's office hung by one hinge, and the hallway was littered with papers and bits of wood and plastic. Evo stepped up to a man taking photos and introduced himself. A South American version of
Colombo
, complete with wrinkled trench coat and cigar (sans the Peter Faulk squint), stepped in front of him.

Running short on sleep and even shorter on temper, Evo barked, "What is it now?" as he tried to see around the cop.

The policeman raised a brow and slowly took the cigar from his mouth. In English he said, "You, Dr. Castillo?"

"Yes. Please, I need to get to my office."

"One moment, Dr. Castillo." He eyed us around the cigar smoke, and held up a badge. I am Inspector Vargas. "Were you aware of anyone in the building earlier this evening, maintenance workers, office personnel, anyone?"

"No, I just flew in from the States. You can check with the airport."

"Yes, I already did. I take it these are your traveling companions."

"Yes. What is this about? Was someone hurt or something?"

"As a matter of fact, two people were killed in a blast in which your office was virtually destroyed. Step over here with me please."

Evo moved to follow the policeman and we all took a step forward. Vargas halted and held up a hand. "Dr. Castillo only, if you please." We all backed up as one and stood against the wall.

"Someone died I'll bet," Fred whispered.

"Duh," I said.

Just then Evo's voice choked out, "Sam, It's Elena." Sam shoved her way past the many bodies blocking her way and hurried to Evo's side.

She grabbed his arm and he turned to gather her close. We followed in Sam's wake, and moved like a battering ram to where the two of them stood gazing down at a gurney. Peeking around Evo, I could see a sheet drawn back and the mutilated body of a dark haired woman lying beneath.

At Fred's indrawn breath, I shoved her behind me and said, "If you're going to be sick, get the hell out of here."

I could hear her swallow several times. "No, no, I'm okay. Sam may need me. It's just a shock, that's all. This body doesn't look as bad as Carol Graff did when we pulled her out from under Mom's house a couple of months ago, and I promise not to trip and fall on top of this one, okay?"

I almost smiled when I remembered how Fred and Al fell on top of a dead body in Mom's back yard, making everyone including the dogs gag.

Turning my attention back to the present, I asked Evo, "Who is Elena?"

Sam answered, "Evo's secretary. I know her mother. Nice woman."

Stepping closer, I asked the cop, "Does it look like she died in the blast, or has any determination of that nature been established?"

Vargas sent me a shrewd glance and asked, "Law enforcement?"

"Retired."

"Step over here, I would like to show you something."

We walked to where the door hung off the hinges. "The evidence has been collected and the pictures taken, but if you would like to walk through with me, I would consider it a favor."

"Of course," I said.
Duh. Like I'm going to pass an opportunity like this up?

I looked around and tagged the EMS worker for some plastic gloves. I pulled out my camera phone to take some general pictures we could look at later. I immediately saw the origin of the blast, and as I suspected, Evo's safe had been blasted. The lingering odor and the way the door was blown off the safe had me asking, "C-4, remote detonator?"

"You're good."

"Pretty obvious. That was a big blast for such a small safe. They either wanted to make sure destruction of the office was complete, or they weren't as professional as we first thought." I moved to the desk. The overturned chair lay off to the right. I looked at the bottom and examined the armrests. I went to pick it up and asked Vargas, "May I?"

"Of course, we are through here."

I turned the chair over and pulled the leather seat away from the armrest. "Inspector?"

Vargas leaned over my back.

"Do you see here where the armrest meets the seat? It seems there are fibers here that have no connection to the leather or the metal. I think they're rope fibers. Your medical examiner can tell us if Elena had rope burns on her wrists or not." I knew damn well the fibers were rope. They'd be finding a murder victim instead of an accidental death in Elena.

Vargas stared at the remnants of the burned rope. Still bent over, he calmly spoke into his radio. In a matter of seconds, a tech showed up with tweezers and a glass vial. He plucked the fibers from the chair and deposited them into the vial. Vargas stepped forward and whispered in his ear. The tech was shaking in his boots by the time Vargas finished reading him the riot act. He glanced up at me on his way out of the room and said something I didn't understand. As he passed through the office door, he ran into a brick wall. I watched as his feet lifted off the floor and he floated backward into the room on the end of Evo's arm; his scrawny neck stuck in Evo's large hand.

"I think you have something to say to the lady."

The tech choked. "I say nothing. He spit on the floor. "Vargas, call him off!"

Vargas lifted an eyebrow. He sucked on his stogie and let the smoke out slowly. As he contemplated the burning end of his cigar, he said quietly, "I think perhaps not. One, you owe this esteemed lady an apology for degrading her because she knows your job better than you do, and you owe her a thank you for maybe saving this investigation. Two, I haven't decided whether to let Dr. Castillo choke you before I fire you, or vice-versa."

The tech gasped, and his eyes bugged out of his head. Vargas rolled the cigar between his fingers and tapped the ash into an empty garbage can. The tech wheezed and began to turn blue, and I thought I'd better say something quick before we had another body. "Hey, Evo, you'd better put him down because he doesn't look too good. Besides, where are we going to hide the body if you kill him?"

At that, both Evo and Vargas laughed and Evo dropped the tech and watched as he collapsed in a heap. The tech gasped, choked, and did the tuna flop on the floor. His arms flew out to the side, and Evo stood on his palm so he couldn't slither out of reach.

The tech made a sorry sight and swallowed hard. "I sorry, American lady, so sorry. I did not know you a police woman and I am
stupido
."

"That's alright, young man, thank you," I said before anyone did him more bodily harm. "Let him up, Evo. We have bigger fish to fry. Inspector Vargas, thank you so much for allowing us into your crime scene." I all but yanked Evo out of the room and back into the hall.

I hustled him past Sam and Fred and began to pull off the latex gloves. "Let's get out of here, I've seen enough–oh, crap." I suddenly put on the brakes. Fred and Sam ran into me. I stumbled forward and because my head was down, I ran into a wall. Feeling a little woozy, I backed away and searched for what stopped me.
Ah, there it is
. With the gloved hand I picked up what appeared to be a severed finger. Turning the glove inside-out when I took it off, I tucked it into the tech's hand whispering, "The other person in the room. Elena had all her fingers. This one probably belonged to the bomber."

I turned back toward my sister and friends and said, "Let's get out of here."

We turned tail and bolted.

 

23

 

 

After leaving Evo's office, Armand took us straight to the airport. Our bags were already loaded and we took off for Venezuela. A Land Rover awaited us at the other end, and we loaded our gear. There were several places to stay, and I registered as a vacationer in Cumanná at a large chain hotel. We'd caught about two hours of sleep before my phone rang for a wake-up call. Evo was already up and had bags full of food-like substances when I dragged my jet-lagged butt down the stairs.

Fred laughed when she saw me. "How can you be jet-lagged when we went from Lima to Venezuela?"

"Shut up, Fred. Give me coffee."

Fred snickered and said in a stage whisper, "Rule Number One, never try to converse with Buzz before morning coffee." After Sam and Evo gave her an odd look, Fred said behind her hand, "She has a drinking problem and an addiction."

Okay, I admit it; I might have been a little cranky from lack of sleep, food deprivation, lack of caffeine, and respect at this point, but I was not about to take crap from Suzie Snowflake over there. She stood between me and my first cup of coffee, and I wanted to say,
"Feel lucky, punk?"
before I shot her.

I bulldozed my way right through Fred's smirking countenance, looking like Mike Singletary going for the opposing quarterback unabated. I grabbed a cup of thick steaming coffee out of Evo's hand and plopped down in a lounger to savor the moment. "Ahh, Heaven," I said and sighed. The aroma alone would have knocked your socks off.

When I came up for air, I stared at the group who stared at me. With my nose arrogantly pointed skyward, I held up my cup. "My drinking habit is coffee, and my drug of choice is caffeine."

The looks on Evo and Sam's faces were priceless as they sagged in relief, and Fred grabbed her middle and laughed like a fool. "Bozo," I said into my cup as I sucked down more life-blood.

Funny how I needed only one cup to feel human again, but back home I'd have already been through a half-a-pot. I stood and refilled my cup. Turning to my two
amigos
(plus Bozo the Sister), I cleared my throat. "Is the tour bus ready?"

Armand joined us wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a Red Sox ball cap, flowered shorts, and Roman sandals. "Jungle tour, this way." He pointed to the Land Rover parked outside the entrance, sporting an
Armand's Jungle Tours
magnetic sign on the door.

I patted my cargo pocket to make sure I still had my bug spray and climbed in beside Armand. He looked a little disappointed and I patted his arm. "We decided that Fred has to sit in the back this time. We don't want you to drive off a mountain or anything."

"Oh yeah," he said. "Uh, probably a good idea." Turning a deep shade of red, Armand kicked the SUV into gear and it gave us all whiplash as he tore away from the curb.

We decided we would begin at Site 151, and work our way up the mountain. The gates were locked, but Evo's master key got us in. There was a filthy Jeep parked by Ron Hansen's office, and Armand pulled quietly up to the other side of the building. We all got out and I eyeballed Sam and Fred. "You stay."

"No way!"

"I'm coming, too!"

"Shut up, both of you, and listen. Fred, you get behind the wheel in case we have to get out of here fast. Sam, you face backward so you can watch her back. I have a feeling this might not go as smoothly as we had hoped."

"Oh, oh, I get it. You have one of your feelings, Buzz. I am not moving a muscle, and neither are you, Sam."

Evo raised a brow. "That went better than expected."

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