Bulldog (Dev Haskell - Private Investigator Book 9) (12 page)

“I’m at University and Western, in front of some big old empty building.”

I knew exactly where she was, it was an old bakery building from the 1930’s. There was a Green Line stop there, our attempt at light rail. Not the best corner for a woman to be on foot after dark unless she was working the street.

“I’m going to come and get you, I’m about ten minutes away.”

“God, Dev, what else can go wrong? My life is just shit,” she sobbed.

“You just hang on, Casey. I’m coming.”

I dashed out the door, climbed in my car and took off. I probably made it in six minutes, only because the cops didn’t nail me for speeding. I saw her standing on the corner looking very distraught. Her arms were folded across her chest and she was obviously crying. The car ahead of me slowed down like they were going to stop then sped up once they got a closer look at her. I pulled to the curb and got out.

She saw it was me, but remained where she was and started shaking her head from side to side. First her shoulders started shuddering and then her entire body followed suit. I hurried over to her.

“Dev,” was all she said and then she just broke down and sobbed uncontrollably. All I could do was wrap my arms around her and hold her as she released a flood of emotion. After all she’d been through, all she’d lost, Dermot, their house, what she knew as her life, this was where she finally cracked, on the corner of University and Western, late at night with the light rail clanging its bell as it passed through the intersection and I was the guy holding her in the rain. Life ain’t fair.

After a bit she regained control and pushed herself back. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. Look at me, I’m just a mess. God, how can you stand me? How can anyone?”

“You’re okay, Casey, that’s the important thing. You’re not hurt, are you?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m okay, well except that I’m royally fucked. God,” she said then looked to be on the verge of breaking down again. I wrapped my arms around her and said, “You’re what’s important, you can always get another car.” Some jerk driving past leaned on his horn and let it blare for another half-a-block.

“Come on let’s get you in my car before all these guys driving by start hitting on you.”

“You kidding, I look like shit,” she said and sniffled.

“I think you’re beautiful,” I said.

“That just proves you’re not in your right mind.”

I held the door open for her and she slid into the passenger seat.

“Buckle up now, you’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

“You think it would make any difference at this point?” she said then pulled the seat belt across her. I ignored her comment and waited until I heard the buckle click then closed her door and hurried over to the driver’s side. I started the car then pushed the button to lock our doors.

“Where to, Madam?”

“Can you take me to Tommy’s, Dev? Jesus, I must really look like shit. Sorry for that back there, I just sort of snapped.”

“I think under the circumstances you may be entitled. Hey, if you open that glove compartment I think there’s some Kleenex in there.”

She opened the glove compartment and the box of Kleenex sort of slid halfway out. Two wrapped condoms lay next to it.

“Oh, back to dating high school girls are we?”

“Oh, sorry about that,” I said.

She just shook her head and smiled.

I drove around the block and headed back in the general direction of Casey’s house although I didn’t think that would be a very good idea. “You want me to take you to Tommy’s?”

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know what else I can do. I just can’t think right now. That guy had to have seen me, and he just plowed into me, didn’t even slow down. What a complete and utter…”

“Don’t worry about any of that right now. We’ll get it sorted out, let the police deal with it. Where does Tommy live?”

“Hunh? Oh yeah, I guess that would help, wouldn’t it?” she said then gave me his address.

We pulled up in front of her brother’s house fifteen minutes later. It was a nice looking Cape Cod-style two-story house with a brick front and a trimmed hedge running across the front. An attached two-stall garage was on the right hand side. There was a light post halfway up the curved front sidewalk with the light on and a plaque with the address numbers. Other than an outside light over the front door the rest of the house was dark.

“God, I hate when they go out and don’t leave any lights on. They went to a concert or something tonight.”

I nodded then got out and walked her to the door.

“I guess I can make it from here,” she said reaching a tentative arm inside and flicking on the light. There were actually three light switches and she turned on all three. One went on just inside the front door, another lit up an area at the base of the staircase running up to the second floor and the third light was inside the front hall closet. Casey didn’t look all that thrilled.

“How ‘bout if I walk through the place just to make sure you’re okay?”

“Oh God, would you mind?”

“Not a problem, I’d be happy to, in fact, I insist.”

“Do you have a gun?”

“I think I can manage,” I said and stepped in past her. She followed behind me.

I turned on lights as we walked from the front entry, through the dining room and into the kitchen. At the back door I turned on the exterior lights and illuminated the well-kept back yard. “Let me check the basement, Casey. I’ll be back up in a moment.”

She nodded and looked relieved. The basement was a refinished den with a giant flat screen on the wall over a wood burning fireplace. What looked like high school graduation pictures of two girls were framed and sitting on the fireplace mantel. Off that room was a laundry area and workbench next to the furnace. I came back upstairs just as Casey was opening one of the kitchen cabinets. I noticed she’d turned on two additional lamps in the living room, the lights in a china cabinet in the dining room and the light in the small bathroom that was just off the kitchen.

“Could I talk you into a glass of wine?” she asked, there was just the hint of a plea in her voice.

“I’d like that, let me just walk through the upstairs and I’ll be right down.”

“God, I feel like such a dope making you do all this, Dev.”

“Forget it, you’ve had a pretty busy night, you just take care of that wine and I’ll be right back down.”

I open and closed the doors on the second floor so it sounded like I was being thorough, but I wasn’t going to go into the bedrooms looking in closets and under the beds. I came down the stairs and walked back to the kitchen. Casey had the foil around the neck of the wine bottle partially torn off and lying on the Formica counter. She had the arms on the cork screw lifted up and was attempting to uncork the bottle, it wasn’t working.

“God I hate these things. Why don’t they just buy the damn bottles with the screw off caps?  It’s so much easier.”

“Can I give you a hand?” I said and took the corkscrew from her, lowered the arms then turned the handle making the arms raise.

“Why wouldn’t it work for me?”

“You just had the arms already up and it doesn’t work that way.” The cork rose three-quarters of the way out of the bottle then I pulled it out the rest of the way. It made a satisfied popping sound. “Should we let it breathe for a moment?”

“No,” Casey said with some authority then grabbed the wine bottle from me. She filled her glass then mine, picked up the bottle along with her glass and marched into the living room.

I followed.

There were two small couches facing each other on either side of the living room, a glass topped coffee table was positioned between them. Casey set the wine bottle on the coffee table and curled up in the corner of a couch. I sat down opposite her. She took about three healthy gulps from her glass then closed her eyes and twisted her head from side to side.

“What a day, Jesus wept,” she said then drank a little more wine although this time it was more of a demure sip.

“You feel like talking about the accident?”

“What’s to tell? Some stupid idiot guy came around the corner and plowed into me.”

“You think he was drunk or asleep, any idea?”

“Not the faintest. Who the hell knows? To tell you the truth I was sort of nervous, I thought some creep was following me, but he turned off into that restaurant parking lot just as I stopped for the red light. A half minute later some car comes around the corner and plows right into me. I think I panicked or something and tried to get out of the way. I must have because my car jumped forward and then he smashed into me. The idiot hit me at about my back tire, the air bag went off and knocked me down onto the seat. He pushed my car up over the curb and into a phone pole. Then he took off, he had to be drunk or high on something. I’m sure my car’s totaled. Shit,” she said then took another healthy swallow of wine and shook her head.

“What did the cops say?”

“What could they say? They got the tow truck there, told me my car was probably totaled and that based on the damage, I was really lucky. God, if they only knew,” she said and drained her glass.

“You got any idea what the car looked like that hit you, or maybe the driver?”

Casey shook her head and reached for the bottle. “More wine?”

“No thanks, I still got this glass going.”

She refilled her glass then set the bottle back on the coffee table. “The cops asked me the same thing. To tell you the truth, it all happened so fast I have no idea. I can’t tell you if it was a man or a woman driving. I don’t know if there was anyone else in the car. It was just a pair of headlights and then boom.”

She raised her head for a moment like she was thinking then closed her eyes. “Oh God, you’ll just freak at this. I think it was a black car. God, do you believe it? What the hell is it with me and black cars?” she said then took a couple of healthy swallows.

“You mean like the car you thought was casing your house?” I laughed, but I was thinking it might not be that far fetched. Someone could have taken Fat Freddy’s car, God knew he wasn’t going to be using it for a while.

“Yeah sort of, I mean, look I honestly don’t know, everything happened so damn fast. I just don’t know what the hell I’m going to do for a car now.”

“Well, you know you’ve got Dermot’s car just sitting in the garage over at your place. It’s pretty late tonight, but I could bring you over there tomorrow and you could get it.”

“Do you think he’d mind?”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that and waited for her to catch herself, but she just looked at me with questioning eyes.

“I think he’d want you to, Casey. Dermot would have been the first one to tell you to use it.”

She nodded and took another sip of wine.

I changed the subject. “How’s the work going on the house? I gotta tell you they’re in there bright and early everyday, bunch of guys working.”

“It’s coming along. I hope it’s not too messy over there for you, Dev.”

“I most likely wouldn’t notice.”

Casey nodded like that was probably an accepted fact. “You know, I’m going to hate to leave the place. I didn’t think I would ever want to go back in there, but now I don’t know. It was what we were doing, kind of our statement and I just don’t know.”

“Do you want to move back in?”

“No, I’m not ready for that, yet. Besides, like you said, the guys working and everything over there. No, I’m settled here for right now and I’m over there everyday, anyway. It’s just, God, I wish I had the money, you know.”

“Yeah, believe me I know how that works.”

A pair of headlights drove up the driveway and a moment later we heard the garage door opening.

“Oh, here’s Tommy and Carol home,” Casey said, but she made no effort to get up. A door in the kitchen opened a minute later and we could hear them coming in from the garage.

“All the lights,” a female voice said.

“We’re in the living room,” Casey called before anything else was said.

They walked into the living room and Tommy introduced me to his wife who I recognized from Dermot’s funeral, but had never officially met. Casey gave them the quick version of the accident and Carol went out to the kitchen to grab two glasses and another bottle of wine. I declined any more wine and waited a requisite ten minutes before I made my good-byes. I told Casey I’d call her in the morning before I picked her up. Thanks were exchanged all around and I beat a hasty retreat back to Casey’s house. Now it was my turn to feel nervous and I went through all the rooms, but this time I carried my .38.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Oh sorry, didn’t know
anyone was in here,” a guy in white pants and a white T-shirt said. He wore a baseball cap on his head with ‘Abbott Paint’ written across the crown. He was carrying a five-gallon bucket and a couple of trowels. I heard two other guys chuckle as he stepped back into the hallway. It was almost seven-thirty in the morning.

I put the coffee on, looked at myself in the mirror and decided whatever needed to be done could wait. I started to come alive after the third cup and phoned Aaron LaZelle in homicide. I had to leave a message. I showered, had another cup of coffee, and was driving to the office when my cell rang.

“Haskell Investigations.”

“Were you planning to show up with caramel rolls again?” Aaron asked.

“No, one is all you get.”

“Pity. Anyway, you called.”

“Yeah, it may be nothing, but I know how we both feel about coincidences.”

“Some woman you dated has turned up pregnant?”

“No, thank God. Casey Gallagher.”

“Yes,” Aaron drew out the word and I was willing to bet that he had just sat up straight in his office chair, maybe picked up a pen and slid a pad in front of him so he could take some notes.

“She was involved in a hit and run last night at the corner of University and Western.”

“She okay?”

“Yeah, seems to be, other than the idiot totaled her car. I picked her up and brought her to her brother’s where she’s been staying, he lives over in the Como area. Anyway, here’s the deal, bear with me. She thought she was being followed, she would have been heading north on Western. Then, as the light on University turns red and she stops, the car behind her turns into the parking lot behind a restaurant.”

“It’s a Vietnamese restaurant, right?”

“You got it. Less than a minute later, some car comes charging around the corner and broadsides her, slams her car into a phone pole and then takes off. That parking lot, it’s L- shaped so someone could have turned in there, gone around the restaurant building, back onto University then blasted around the corner and hit her.”

“Yeah, and it also could have been some idiot who was drinking or lost control or was underage who hit her. We’ll check into it, but it could really just be unfortunate timing.”

“There might be more.”

“Such as?”

“Fat Freddy.”

“What about him?” Aaron sounded cautious.

“He was assaulted coming out of Nasty’s the other day by someone or a number of someone’s, they put him in the hospital.”

“Yeah, we’re aware of that.”

“I went to see him.”

“You did what? Didn’t we have a little chat about this sort of thing? You not screwing up an ongoing investigation, you not getting involved and making things even more difficult than they already are.”

“There’s a possibility it may have been his car that broadsided Casey last night.”

“I believe he’s still in Regions and pretty well banged up. He’ll probably be there for at least another day or maybe two.”

“Yeah, but his car isn’t. It was parked at Nasty’s, in their parking lot. I’ve a hunch if you got his license number and did a check you wouldn’t find it parked there. It’s a black Camaro, Z-18 or something. Casey made an offhanded comment that she thought it was a black car that hit her.”

“Anything else?” I could tell by his tone he was writing and not very pleased.

“Not right now. I hear anything else you’ll be the first person I call.”

“I appreciate that, Dev, and thanks for passing on this information. Oh, and now lets get back to you not getting involved, please.”

“You know me.”

“Yeah, that’s why I would appreciate you not screwing things up any further,” he said and hung up.

Louie wasn’t in the office when I got there. But, he had apparently been there earlier because the coffee pot was empty and still turned on. I smelled that electric burning smell the moment I walked in the door. I turned the pot off and checked the time, barely nine-thirty. I scanned the building across the street for the next half hour to no avail then called Casey and left a message.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Fat Freddy told me
it was Bulldog and the bouncers that beat him up. Aaron might have been playing coy, but I was willing to bet the police didn’t have that bit of information. I thought it might be a good idea to bring Freddy some flowers, on my way I drove through Nasty’s parking lot.

Even at this hour of the morning, there were patrons cars parked in the lot and the neon red ‘open’ sign was flashing next to the door. One could only hope the guys in there had been working third shift and stopped for just one on their way home. I drove through the lot twice, including taking a peek back by the dumpsters and the entrance to Jackie Van Dorn’s office. The one thing I didn’t see anywhere in the lot was Freddy’s sinister looking black Camaro.

I checked at the hospital information desk just to make sure Freddy was still in the same room, he was. I picked up the cheapest flowers they had in the hospital gift shop, they were still overpriced. I eventually found my way to Freddy’s room up on the third floor.

He was sitting up in bed working his way through three pancakes and watching the flat screen mounted up on the wall, it was tuned to Sesame Street.

He still looked pretty rough, but it was an improvement from the other day. The swelling had gone down, the bruises on his arms had lost their purple cast and were now a dull black. He still had the splint covering his nose, but I thought there might have been a little less gauze and tape. His eyes were still purple, but the swelling had gone down by half. His lips were bruised, but moving as he chewed. He still had that ugly ear.

“What the hell do you want?”

“Is that any way to treat someone who’s bringing you flowers?”

“Those are for me?” he said sounding genuinely surprised.

“No, I saw them in the shop and just couldn’t live without them. Yeah, they’re for you, mind if I set them on the window sill?”

“Yeah, just don’t ruin my view of the freeway,” he said. I was afraid he wasn’t kidding.

“So, how are you doing?”

“Okay, I guess. Cops were back yesterday, asking more questions.”

“And?”

“And what? You think I’d live out the day if I gave ‘em any names? God, I’m just lucky those guys didn’t kill me.”

“Maybe you should think about another line of work, Freddy.”

“Ahhh, not this bullshit again. I already told you I’m a criminal and I’m pretty good at it.”

“Really? Gee, could have fooled me.”

“Come on, Haskell, like I said before, you and me we’re in the same industry, just working different sides of the street. You know?”

“Not really. Listen, I think I might have some bad news for you.”

“What? They aren’t gonna arrest me are they? For getting the shit kicked out of me? Come on, what the hell is the damn charge?”

“No one’s arresting you, Freddy or anyone else for that matter, at least as far as I know.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Your car?”

“My car? Stay away from that, I busted my ass to get that thing, it’s my brand, it’s who I am. It makes a statement, God damn it.”

“Yeah, and I think it’s been stolen.”

“What? Stolen? How the hell do you know that?”

“Did you park it at Nasty’s?”

“Yeah, right where I always do, back by the dumpsters.”

“Well, you may have parked it there, but it’s not sitting there now. I just checked.”

“Oh Jesus, they, they took my car? What the hell for? Hey, do me a favor, open that closet door, my jeans are hanging on the hook, check the pockets for me.”

I pushed the white sliding door to the side and exposed some laminated shelves and four white plastic clothes hangers. There was a white plastic hook attached to the wall that Freddy’s jeans and T-shirt hung on. Both looked to be the victims of an assault and in a way I guess they were. They were heavily bloodstained, the jeans especially, since the T-shirt was black, it hid most of the blood that had splashed on it. Both knees were ripped in the jeans.

“See if my keys are in the pocket,” Freddy said.

I checked the pockets, one of the back pockets had been ripped open and was barely hanging on. “No, nothing, Freddy.”

“God damn it, are you kidding me? Is my wallet in there?”

I shook my head. “No, there’s nothing, they’re all empty, one of your back pockets is almost torn off.”

“Those bastards, wait till I get my car back, I’ll kill ‘em.”

“Well, that’s another thing.”

“What?” He had a look on his battered face that seemed to ask ‘what else could go wrong?’

“Remember how we met, you checking out that house?”

“That place I was checking for Bulldog, where we had the beers?”

“Yeah, that’s the place. See, the woman who lived there, the gal who owns the place, she was sitting at a stoplight last night and someone came around the corner, broadsided her and then took off.”

“So?”

“Well, she’s thought it might have been a black car. I’m thinking Bulldog was driving your car and tried to kill her. For all I know he might be thinking he succeeded.”

“God, not my car,” Freddy whined completely missing the point that someone, quite possibly Bulldog, had attempted to use the vehicle as a murder weapon.

“I’m just saying it looks that way, Freddy. Can’t prove anything yet, but I’m thinking, yeah probably.”

“When I get out of here they’re gonna pay. Every damn one of them, you hear me, Haskell. I don’t care what they did to me, but if they fucked with black beauty they are dead meat.”

I didn’t doubt him.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Casey returned my call
while I was walking back to my car in the hospital ramp. “Sorry I missed your call, Dev. I left my phone downstairs.”

“You sleep okay?”

“Yeah, two bottles of wine will do that.”

“I can be over there in about fifteen minutes and drive you back to your place to get the car if that works.”

“Can you make it a half-hour, I should jump in the shower first.”

“I’ll give you forty-five minutes.”

I picked her up and we drove over to her house. I walked in with her and headed for the kitchen while she talked with the contractors for a few minutes then came out in the kitchen where I was sitting.