“Then you may want to find out why Nadir Beladi and his muscle-for-brains sidekick Sal Pinzolo pulled a knife on me outside Dirty Monty’s. Apparently, me asking questions about Desiree got Beladi’s tidy-whites in a bunch. And the guy seemed to know about the murder before it hit the paper.” Jess pulled two driver’s licenses from her pocket and tossed them on the table. “Pinzolo let his blade do the talkin’ for Beladi. And he wasn’t above using it on a defenseless woman.”
“You, defenseless? You’re friggin’ Rambo with ovaries.” Sam fought a smile as she got a closer look at the licenses. “And I’m not gonna ask how you got these. Tell me what happened.”
Jess started talking, leaving out the minor detail of the stun grenade and finishing with her car chase in the boonies.
“You’ve been busy.” Sam leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Any idea who was in the sedan?”
“No, it was too dark, but the guy flew solo, and he definitely had a gun. Plus he’s now got a pretty big scrape on the driver’s side of his vehicle. Kissing an embankment tends to do that.”
“I’ll look into these two boneheads and let you know what I find out.” While the waitress refilled their coffee, Sam palmed the licenses in her hand until the woman left. Once they had their privacy, Jessie had something more on her mind.
“Okay, I gotta ask. What’s this about Ray Garza getting involved? Isn’t he the detective who tried to pin Baker’s murder on me a few months back? He works out of Harrison Station like you, not Pullman. What’s his interest?”
Sam smiled, a familiar expression Jess had come to recognize lately.
“Oh yeah, there it is.” Jess pointed a finger and chuckled. “That goofy grin you get whenever you talk about Mr. Macho.”
“Let’s just say that I’ve got a bet going with Ray on who’ll figure this out first. Harper can use the extra help, and if I play my cards right, I may get noticed by the brass. Homicide is where I’d like to be.”
“I know you’ve been wanting out of Vice, but it probably doesn’t hurt that a gorgeous Hispanic hunk works Homicide.” Jess sipped her coffee. “But just remember, when your best friend makes a believable murder suspect, lesser men might hold it against you.” She smirked. “So what about this bet? Spill it.”
“Oh no, that’s between him and me. Let’s just say he’s a good resource I can use.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet. Real good.” Jess winked over the rim of her cup. “Does he know you’re stacking the deck against him? Hell, you’ve got him and me both workin’ the case with you having the inside track and poised to make the collar. Has he figured that out yet?”
“Nope.”
“Oh Sammie, you make me proud, girl.” Jess crooked a lip. “Hey, one more thing. Harper told me about Mandy having a boyfriend. Some guy named Jason. Did he mention that little detail to the cops?”
“Yeah, he did. We found out the guy’s name is Jason Burke. And Burke’s got a record of using his fists on a woman.”
“That’s great.” Her quick grin shifted to a grimace. “I mean, not great like…great great.”
“I know what you mean, but don’t get your hopes up. Burke’s got an alibi. He was out in Lombard at a bar. And his I-PASS confirms he wasn’t anywhere near downtown when the medical examiner fixed time of death.”
Sam gave her the rundown on Jason Burke. The guy was the same age as Mandy and worked hourly as a journeyman subcontractor doing on-site construction and repair wherever he was assigned. He’d been arrested once, two years ago, on charges of domestic abuse against his live-in girlfriend at the time. There had been more beatings, but the girlfriend never pressed charges.
“Are there any witnesses to corroborate his alibi? ’Cause I-PASS is only an electronic toll system. It proves his car was in the burbs, not that he was in it.”
“I know, Jess. We’re checking his story, but his toll pass trumps Harper’s ‘I forgot’ defense.”
She sighed, knowing Sam was right.
“You said Burke has an arrest record. Can you send it to me via e-mail?” Jess’s e-mail was set to forward to her cell phone. Normally, that service allowed her to keep moving and not be tied to an office, but reading an arrest record would require a download to print. Once she got the word Sam had sent the document, she’d retrieve it from home.
“Yeah, I can. What are you thinking?”
“Jealousy. Harper said the guy got bent about him seeing his girl. Seth tried to clean her up, maybe that didn’t sit well with Romeo. He could be the guy who drugged our boy and took him off the premises. If the bartender at Dirty Monty’s can ID Burke from his booking photo and place him at the bar that night, we’ll know he lied about Lombard, and his alibi is for shit.”
“Yeah, that’d be worth a shot. I’m jammed with my caseload, but I’ll send his booking record as soon as I get back to the station.”
“And if that report had his work and home address listed, that would be great. I might need to talk to him, too,” she added, looking a little sheepish. “…to see if he’s got tattoos.”
Sam cocked her head and stared at her for a moment before opening her mouth.
“Talk to him? I know you, Jessie. You have no intention of just talking. And so you know? Checking him for tattoos doesn’t require a full body-cavity search.” Sam winced. “God, this better not come back to bite me in the ass. And if CPD gets wind of this, you wouldn’t be doing Harper any favors either.”
Jess tried to act insulted. “Hey, I can be discreet.”
“Yeah, you and Paris Hilton.” Sam shook her head. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll keep you in the loop from my end. You do the same.”
Her friend left her with a lot to think about—and the tab.
South Chicago
Off Cicero Avenue
True to her word, Sam sent the arrest record for Mandy’s boyfriend, Jason Burke, in short order. By the time Jess made it back to her apartment and pulled into a parking spot, her cell phone signaled that she’d received the e-mail.
“Good girl.” She muttered under her breath, shoving the phone back into her pocket. “Now let’s see who you are, Burke.”
Once inside her apartment, she booted up her computer to download and print the document. With the printer working, she made a few more calls to cab companies. On the third number, she got a hit.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” She grinned and grabbed a pen and paper near her phone. “Can you give me the location where you picked him up?”
Harper had been a responsible drinker and used a cab to cart his cute tush to Dirty Monty’s that night. Part of his evening had an explanation, but more importantly, Jess felt a step closer to knowing where Harper was living these days—and whom he might be protecting.
“Yeah, I got it. Thanks.” She hung up the phone and gazed at the address she’d jotted on a notepad.
She recognized it as being in downtown Chicago off Michigan Avenue. Posh real estate, but oddly enough, by now she’d come to expect that from Harper. She’d accepted his idiosyncrasies and the mysteries that surrounded the quirky kid, but that hadn’t always been the case.
She’d first met him months ago after she hired him as a summer intern, her ploy to score cheap labor for computer research and skip tracing. Other than her immediate connection to him on a personal level, nothing about the guy raised a red flag. Her first impression had been that Harper was cute, smart, and in need of a job—not a bad combination. He’d been the only applicant for the position she advertised in a free ad and had been the original owner of the blue whale, the beat-up old van she now drove after he’d loaned it to her. The kid wore an unending assortment of Jerry Springer wear with worn jeans and sneaks. Yet in no time, the mysteries had begun to surface, compelling her to rethink her initial opinion of Seth Harper.