The Front Range Butcher Page 5

  “Glad to see you living up to your motto of Protect and Serve,” I said with a laugh.

  “We don’t have enough manpower now to catch the bad guys. Having to waste fifteen minutes with her every week doesn’t make the job any easier. And she’s not the only one calling wanting something we don’t have time to deal with.”

  Bill rocked forward, taking a minute to notate the call in his log. Every minute of their day needed to be tracked. Those wasted minutes and the paperwork took up most of a cop’s time. Something I was glad I didn’t have to deal with.

  “How did it go with Captain Jones?” asked Bill, again leaning back in his chair.

  “Swell. He did talk to me, though begrudgingly. Seems to have a fair amount of respect for you.”

  “Probably the last favor I’ll get from him. He was a grump when I asked, but that is normal. I told him you were helping catch a killer and a ruthless one at that. It was worth twenty minutes of his valuable time.”

  “He didn’t give me much that I didn’t already have. Still he said he didn’t care if I stuck my nose in the case. The possibility of it screwing up my head seemed to please him. The man definitely doesn’t like me for some reason.”

  “There is a small list of people he likes. I’m sure I’m no longer on it, but it won’t hurt my feelings.” Bill’s phone rang, but he ignored it. “So why else are you here?”

  “Do you know this guy? Name is Vicente Duarte.” I pulled out my phone and showed him the picture.

  “I’ve heard the name before, though I don’t know the face. Believe it or not, I don’t know every criminal in the city. Why are you looking for him?”

  I slipped the phone back into my pocket. “Another case I’m working on. Trying to locate information for my client. He should be in the system and I’m hoping to get an address or maybe where he works.”

  “What does he do?”

  “Illegal guns and drugs I’m told. Might be involved with a mobile chop shop as well.”

  “The first two would fall under the Vice division. It’s difficult to talk with those guys as they’re always on the streets, normally doing surveillance and working undercover. The chop shop would fall under detectives. Though they don’t have a lot of time to deal with those crimes and only chase them down when they have solid leads. But they may know him. Your best bet is to talk with Mallard.”

  “Is he here?”

  “I saw him walk in a few minutes before you. His shift is probably coming to an end. I’m sure he’d love to see you!” Bill started laughing, for he knew that wasn’t true.

  I stood up and walked back, his laughter still coming from behind me, one of the longer moments of jocularity I’d ever heard him have. I found Mallard’s office and knocked on his door, opening it slowly anyway in case he decided not to respond. He was a long tenured Detective with the Denver PD, our paths crossing on a couple of cases. He was on the list of my reluctant allies.

  “Oh joy!” he said when he saw me, pen in hand dealing with a large stack of papers on his desk. “I’m late for dinner with my wife, so this better be quick.”

  “I’m sure she is used to it after all these years on the force.”

  “Not anymore. I’m trying to be a better husband at her insistence. Even had me read a book on the subject.”

  “What did you learn?”

  “Not to waste my time with pain in the ass PI’s. What do you want?” He grunted while flipping his pen to the desktop.

  I showed him the picture on my phone.

  “Vicente Duarte, it would appear,” said Mallard. “What are you wanting him for?”

  “Case I’m working on. Trying to track him down.”

  “Spends most of his time in Aurora these days. Not sure where. Best you go talk with them. April’s brothers can probably help since they work at Aurora PD. I’m sure both have run across him while on the job.”

  “Good to know. I’m meeting April after her shift. Anything else I should know about him?”

  “Scum of the Earth. He will do anything for the almighty dollar. Likes fast cars and loose women. Just the type of dirt bag you always seem to be looking for.”

  “Excellent.” My sarcasm filled the air.

  “Now can I finish this up so I can leave?” he groaned, while picking up the pen again.

  “Do I need to write you a note, excusing your lateness,” I said with a smirk.

  Mallard held up his middle finger, which was my cue to leave. I walked back out to the main area and found a seat. Typing out a text message, I hit send and within a minute April responded. She was getting dressed and would be out soon. I texted her back, asking if she needed help getting undressed and got a stern “no” back. It was about ten minutes when she walked out looking good in her blue jeans, red t-shirt and black boots. I mouthed, “hubba hubba” and she smiled weakly. She looked tired.

  “I need a good bath and a massage,” she declared as we walked outside.

  “I think we can manage that. Your place or mine?”

  “Yours is closer. And I expect the massage to be top notch. Otherwise I’m calling an expert with big muscles and tattoos.”

  I laughed.

  “I’ll do my best. Of course, I expect sex afterwards.”

  “I expect sex too. But only if you rub me the right way. Otherwise I’m making the call to Beefcake Massage.”

  I grabbed her and spun her around, giving her a big kiss and hug. Even if she was tired I could feel her body react as she cherished the attention.

  “Sorry buddy that was nice, but I still need the massage first. You aren’t getting car sex tonight and certainly not in this parking lot.”

  “I need a favor,” I said, still facing her, looking deep into her hazel eyes.

  “Beyond the sex?”

  “Yes. I need to talk with Clay or Neil, if he isn’t working undercover right now.”

  “I’m sure we can arrange something. Why?”

  “Another case I’m working on. Need to track down this guy. It’s for Rocky.”

  She knew the jobs I’d done with Rocky and the line of work he was in and she frowned.

  “I’m guessing this person is not a model citizen.”

  “Not in the least bit. Appears to be something personal to Rocky, so I want to help. Plus, he pays well.”

  “I’ll call Clay tomorrow, since Neil is so damn hard to get a hold of and see what he says. But that massage time you’ll need to put in was just upped by two-fold. Otherwise I’m going for the two-for-one special at Beefcake Massage and you’ll have to watch!”

  I laughed out loud this time and began limbering up my fingers for the task at hand.

  Chapter 10

  The next morning, I crawled out of bed trying not to wake April. She was sleeping in since she didn’t need to work until the afternoon shift, her naked body lying twisted in the sheets. I was thirsty, so I slipped into some boxers and a t-shirt, then headed for the kitchen. I found a bottle of water and looked over what was available for breakfast. I had eggs, hash browns, bacon, sausages and whole wheat bread for toast. Protein was needed to replenish my stamina after a night of tireless massages, followed by vigorous lovemaking. April’s sexual appetite was intense. I had to keep my physical game sharp and attentive. There was a strong affection there, but never a proclamation of love between us. We were committed when together, spending one or two nights each week jointly, but that was as far as it went. So far though, she was all I could handle, and temptation hadn’t raised its head at me in our year long relationship. It felt good when we were alone, and I was satisfied on where our love affair was at.

  While deciding on what to cook first, there was a knock on my door. I had upgraded recently—since I’d had a run of people breaking in too easily—with a heavier door, stronger locks and wider angled peephole to see who was outside. I peeked through seeing an unfamiliar man standing there. He looked Asian, and large in size. I wasn’t expecting anyone.

  “What can I do for you?” I ask
ed, hollering through the door.

  “I’m looking to hire a detective to find someone,” he stated.

  I rested my head against the door, when it rained it poured. I really didn’t need any other cases right now.

  “I’m sorry. But I’m booked solid and have no time.” I made my voice sound direct and to the point.

  “I really need your help.” He pleaded, desperation in his timbre.

  I sighed, “Could you come back in a couple of hours? I’m just waking up and need to shower and eat.”

  There was a hesitation before he answered. “It’s a matter of life and death. I’ll pay double your normal rate.”

  Money was hard to turn down, especially double. I thought it over and grabbed a pair of sweats which were sitting on the sofa. I unbolted the door and wished I hadn’t as the man, followed by another, came crashing through and knocked me to the ground.

  “What the fuck!” I yelled, as both men stood over me.

  The first man, who I’d seen through the peephole was NFL safety in size and had arms and legs that had spent many hours at the gym. He was wearing a flowered shirt and tan shorts and didn’t appear to be armed, but looked strong enough not to need a weapon. The man who followed in after him, was a little shorter and not as muscular, dressed in beige slacks and a purple dress shirt with the top two buttons open. He too, didn’t appear to be armed, unless he was keeping it in an ankle holster. I stood up slowly as to not threaten them and glared at them warily, waiting for their move.

  “We did not lie,” said the second man, also of Asian descent. “We are wanting your help in finding someone. It could be worth your while financially.”

  “Name?” I asked, still not letting my guard down.

  “Aleksi Platov.”

  I knew of Aleksi from last year, where he had gone from opponent to savior on the computer hacking case. Still I played dumb about knowing him and kept my face blank.

  “Never heard of him. What are you wanting him for?”

  He shook his head and smiled a menacing smile at me. “We believe you do know him. He even assisted you when being questioned by one of our agents.”

  I started doing the math. It would seem these two worked for the Chinese government, wanting Aleksi for the death of Cong and Lok who were killed in a power struggle. Lok’s death I’d witnessed, while I assumed Cong was killed after Aleksi had wrung as much information out of him as he could. Sometimes it is best not to know too much.

  “Gentlemen, as far as I know Aleksi is back in Mother Russia living the good life. We are not pen pals.”

  “You do know him…” the little one sneered as the large man stepped over to me and, too fast for me to put up a defense, punched me in the side of the head. My knees buckled from the force, even though I saw it coming. He moved in and grabbed me by the t-shirt, lifting me back up. It took a minute for the ringing in my head to stop.

  “That is for lying the first time,” said the second man, who seemed to be in charge. “As mentioned, it is a matter of life or death. Yours! You will help us find him, or Shen will use you as a punching bag.”

  Shen appeared capable of doing just that. I studied my options when a door opened, and April stepped out in one of my t-shirts and pink panties, with her work gun held firmly and calmly in both hands. She was tough, resourceful and knew how to handle a gun. I was always confident when she had my back in these types of situations.

  “Let him go,” she said strongly. “I won’t ask a second time.”

  There was a grin on his face, but Shen released my shirt and stepped back. I smiled at my fortune and then put everything I had into a left hook and punched him square in the jaw. His knees didn’t buckle, but he felt it by his reaction and the telling sign of a small line of blood trickling down his mouth, which he spat on the floor.

  “Now we are even,” I said, flexing my hand, though I don’t think my knuckles would agree. I went over to grab my cell phone.

  “This changes nothing,” hissed the second man. “In time we will find a way to get you to help us find Aleksi.”

  “Right now, you’re going to be arrested,” I said, while dialing 911.

  “We are diplomats.” He shrugged, unaffected by my threat.

  “I don’t care. You storm into my place and threaten me. At the very least you get time in jail until your lawyers show.”

  I gave the dispatcher the details. She knew me and didn’t need much information before she said she’d send a car over.

  “Since you didn’t play nice, I called the cops,” I said. “It didn’t have to be that way.”

  Both remained silent.

  “Even if I wanted to help you, I have no connection to him or anyone he works for.”

  “We believe that isn’t true.”

  “The last time I saw him was over a year ago,” I said, my eyes darting back and forth between the two. “I have no need for him, nor does he have any need for me. If you work for the Chinese Government, then you have resources to find him I could not possibly fathom.”

  He started to reach for his pocket.

  “Easy,” said April, her gun still pointed. “I’d hate to put a hole in you and get blood on that nice shirt of yours. It looks expensive.”

  Carefully he pulled out his cell phone. I grabbed it from him.

  “No calls. You get it back after the police arrive.”

  “We have a right to call.”

  I was standing tall, knowing they were in no position to dictate. “Not now you don’t. The only right you have is to remain silent.”

  “We’ll continue our quest no matter what. He killed two of our agents.”

  “In the US you always say allegedly killed two of your agents, until proven otherwise,” I tutted.

  “Nothing alleged about it. We know it’s true. And we believe you know the truth,” he said, calmly.

  I did, but certainly wasn’t going to admit to them.

  “You, gentlemen, are barking up the wrong tree. And for your trouble you will spend a few hours in jail and have to explain to your consulate why you were roughing up a true blue American patriot in his own home.”

  Within a few minutes two squad cars arrived. After April and I explained what had happened, the two men were cuffed and taken away. They gave me a lot of cold stares and I figured I’d not seen the last of them.

  “So much for a quiet morning having breakfast together,” I said to April with a wry grin, my head still pounding from the hit I had taken.

  “Now we have to get dressed, go down and give statements,” she said practically.

  I didn’t really want to go anywhere, but I knew she was right. I sighed, so much for breakfast.

  “I guess we’ll have to shower together to save time.” I shrugged, giving her a wicked smile.

  “My thoughts exactly.” She stepped forward to give me a kiss. “True Blue American?” she inquired.

  “As blue as they come,” I replied. “Why, don’t you agree?”

  “The only blue I recall is your balls, and I took care of that last night.”

  “Indeed, you did. And let’s make sure in the shower we ward off the blue a little longer!”

  Chapter 11

  After a refreshing and satisfying shower, we went down to police headquarters to give our statements and press charges. This was a waste of time, as the two men weren’t held for long, their diplomatic credentials freeing them. Still to me it was worth annoying them for busting into my place. April had to work, and I needed to be somewhere, this ending our day together, and effectively wasting our entire morning.

  Jonas had provided the address of Simon’s old house, so I could pay it a visit. It was up near Evergreen—a beautiful city surrounded by pines and aspen trees, with mountain parks and miles of trails—a foothills town west of Denver. It sits at over seven thousand feet in elevation, with just over nine thousand residents, a few being celebrities, though not as many as you’d find in Aspen and Vail. It had a mountain town feel, while still b
eing close to Denver.

  The weather was warm, the scenery marvelous to view, it was perfect weather for riding. The drive took me on I70, to Evergreen Parkway through Evergreen Central on my Harley. Once past the main part of town, the road forked at Evergreen Lake, taking a turn at Upper Bear Creek Road. My pace slowed on the winding pavement, needing to watch for a turn two miles in. Some of the homes sat just off the road, but Simon’s old place didn’t, instead it sat back in the trees, isolated for an owner hoping to be anonymous from the world around them.

  Even though I was watching closely, I still missed the turn, as it wasn’t easy to see on the winding road. I had to veer off to the side and then turn around once the cars behind me had cleared. Once on the road, or likely a long driveway, an incline took me a quarter mile before I could see the house. Coming upon a security gate, I stopped, turned off the bike and pressed the button on the intercom. There was a camera on top of the stone pillar, so I removed my helmet, so whoever sat behind the camera could see my friendly, unthreatening face.

  “What can I help you with?” asked the male voice on the other side.

  “I’m here investigating several murders,” I replied. “I’m a detective and would like to talk with you about the previous owner, Simon Lions.”

  “Can you hold up your ID, so the camera can see it?” The man ordered.

  I pulled out my wallet and opened it to my PI license, holding it in the air. The camera lens moved to zoom in. Soon the gate opened.

  “Pull on up and park in front of the first garage door,” I was instructed.

  With my helmet back on, I drove up, amazed at the view—the rolling hills, green grass, colorful wild flowers and pine trees stretching out as far as I could see. The quietness of the area; silence, other than the wind song blowing across the landscape. As I reached the first garage door, of which there were four, the overall size of the house blew me away. The front was a mixture of stone, white siding and glass windows, stretching out in a slight curve and straight up to a tall two stories. I walked up the slate steps, through a stone archway and rang the doorbell. It was promptly answered by a thirty-something man wearing a golf shirt and slacks. I resisted asking him if I could play through, referencing a common golfing expression.