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Authors: Ann Roberts
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no schoolin’ going on there anymore. Just lots of buys.”
Her anger surfaced as she pictured a giant wrecking ball crashing into the structure. Nothing good would ever come of that place again.
“Is that where you deal?”
He laughed. “Detective, I am a law-abiding citizen.”
“So you don’t know anything about this little girl’s murder?” Andre asked impatiently.
He tapped his fingers against his workpants, ignoring the question. It was clear he wasn’t afraid of their badges in the least. He propped his feet up on a nearby chair and stretched back. “I’m not saying anything to you. You know nothing about what goes on down here.”
“So educate us. Tell us why anyone would want to kill a ten-year-old girl in cold blood?”
He snorted and shook his head. “It happens all the time, lady.”
She leaned closer. “Well, you obviously knew about her murder or you did it yourself.”
He scowled and sat up in the chair. “Why do cops always assume that Latino men are responsible for crime if it occurs in the barrio?”
“Because they usually are,” she shot back.
He stood and headed for the door. “Maria Perez was a troublemaker, and I’m not surprised she got popped.”
“So can I assume Raul didn’t like her?” she called.
He let out a sound of disapproval. “Detective, if I were you, I’d stay away from Raul.” His voice was cold and soft and she felt a shiver down her back.
“Are you threatening me?”
He grinned slightly. “Of course not, Detective. Like I said, I’m a law-abiding citizen.”
He walked out of the room, his relaxed saunter mocking her.
Chapter Nine
It was late afternoon by the time Ari returned to her office after previewing several houses in North Scottsdale for Stan Wertz. She immediately headed for the refrigerator, hoping to find two of Lorraine’s famous tamales for lunch. Dinner with her father and Sol wasn’t scheduled until eight, and she imagined her stomach would be growling fiercely.
She wolfed down the tamales and powered up her computer, attempting to learn more about her new client. She downloaded several articles from a Google search and learned Wertz had spent his entire life in the grocery business. He’d risen from the bottom of the ladder, beginning as a bag boy at the first Hometown Grocery. When he finally broke into management and purchased the small company, he saw the possibility of expansion and bought land for a second store. A second led to a third and eventually there were Hometown Groceries all over Phoenix.
She scrolled through a story detailing how he’d forced a family restaurant out of the location it had enjoyed for twenty years to acquire the land for one of his stores. Despite the pleas of the communi, and even some nasty editorials in The Arizona Republic, he’d had the sheriff’s office escort the patriarch off the property, drawing negative publicity and picketers on the sidewalks outside the other stores.
His mettle continued to be tested by the presence of FoodCo, the mega-conglomerate that gobbled up all of the other grocery chains. There were now only two food companies in Phoenix: FoodCo, whose storefronts bore many names, and Hometown Grocery. He refused to sell to FoodCo despite numerous offers.
The final article was only three days old and announced an opening of another Hometown Grocery in Gilbert. She scrolled through the particulars but found no connection to Warren Edgington. In the article Wertz boasted that he had every intention of keeping his foothold in the Phoenix grocery competition and his bigger plans included a store that could rival any big box store.
She leaned back in her chair and tented her fingers under her chin, thinking about what she had learned about him. He was obviously powerful and ruthless, not afraid to achieve his goals at the expense of others. She wasn’t surprised that he’d confronted Edgington in public. But what were they talking about?
She typed in
Her anger surfaced as she pictured a giant wrecking ball crashing into the structure. Nothing good would ever come of that place again.
“Is that where you deal?”
He laughed. “Detective, I am a law-abiding citizen.”
“So you don’t know anything about this little girl’s murder?” Andre asked impatiently.
He tapped his fingers against his workpants, ignoring the question. It was clear he wasn’t afraid of their badges in the least. He propped his feet up on a nearby chair and stretched back. “I’m not saying anything to you. You know nothing about what goes on down here.”
“So educate us. Tell us why anyone would want to kill a ten-year-old girl in cold blood?”
He snorted and shook his head. “It happens all the time, lady.”
She leaned closer. “Well, you obviously knew about her murder or you did it yourself.”
He scowled and sat up in the chair. “Why do cops always assume that Latino men are responsible for crime if it occurs in the barrio?”
“Because they usually are,” she shot back.
He stood and headed for the door. “Maria Perez was a troublemaker, and I’m not surprised she got popped.”
“So can I assume Raul didn’t like her?” she called.
He let out a sound of disapproval. “Detective, if I were you, I’d stay away from Raul.” His voice was cold and soft and she felt a shiver down her back.
“Are you threatening me?”
He grinned slightly. “Of course not, Detective. Like I said, I’m a law-abiding citizen.”
He walked out of the room, his relaxed saunter mocking her.
Chapter Nine
It was late afternoon by the time Ari returned to her office after previewing several houses in North Scottsdale for Stan Wertz. She immediately headed for the refrigerator, hoping to find two of Lorraine’s famous tamales for lunch. Dinner with her father and Sol wasn’t scheduled until eight, and she imagined her stomach would be growling fiercely.
She wolfed down the tamales and powered up her computer, attempting to learn more about her new client. She downloaded several articles from a Google search and learned Wertz had spent his entire life in the grocery business. He’d risen from the bottom of the ladder, beginning as a bag boy at the first Hometown Grocery. When he finally broke into management and purchased the small company, he saw the possibility of expansion and bought land for a second store. A second led to a third and eventually there were Hometown Groceries all over Phoenix.
She scrolled through a story detailing how he’d forced a family restaurant out of the location it had enjoyed for twenty years to acquire the land for one of his stores. Despite the pleas of the communi, and even some nasty editorials in The Arizona Republic, he’d had the sheriff’s office escort the patriarch off the property, drawing negative publicity and picketers on the sidewalks outside the other stores.
His mettle continued to be tested by the presence of FoodCo, the mega-conglomerate that gobbled up all of the other grocery chains. There were now only two food companies in Phoenix: FoodCo, whose storefronts bore many names, and Hometown Grocery. He refused to sell to FoodCo despite numerous offers.
The final article was only three days old and announced an opening of another Hometown Grocery in Gilbert. She scrolled through the particulars but found no connection to Warren Edgington. In the article Wertz boasted that he had every intention of keeping his foothold in the Phoenix grocery competition and his bigger plans included a store that could rival any big box store.
She leaned back in her chair and tented her fingers under her chin, thinking about what she had learned about him. He was obviously powerful and ruthless, not afraid to achieve his goals at the expense of others. She wasn’t surprised that he’d confronted Edgington in public. But what were they talking about?
She typed in
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