Read Online Secure Location by Beverly Long - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Beverly Long
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appreciate it.”
* * *
C RUZ DROVE TO the food pantry. He found Oscar unpacking cans of peaches. The man was the right height and weight and he was throwing around the heavy cases of canned fruit with ease.
Good arm strength, Meg had said.
“Mr. Warren,” Cruz said. “I’m Detective Cruz Montoya and I’m investigating a series of incidents that have occurred at or near the BJM Hotel.” He didn’t want to show too much of his hand too soon.
The man shifted his weight from foot to foot. He seemed nervous. Given that he’d recently done time, Cruz realized that just having a cop want to chat might be enough to raise the blood pressure.
“I haven’t worked at the hotel for months,” he said.
“I know that. Where were you last night around nine?”
“Home.”
“Anybody there with you?”
The man shook his head. “I live alone,” he said.
“What about yesterday morning?”
“I was here, working.”
“Anybody verify that?” Cruz asked.
The man pointed to a woman wearing blue jeans and a gray T-shirt. “Tracy runs the place. She was here, too.”
He was working for a woman. Maybe he wasn’t too bent out of shape.
It took Tracy less than five minutes to verify that Oscar had indeed been working the previous day. She showed Cruz a handwritten time sheet. “I got in early yesterday, about six. Oscar came in at his regular time.”
Cruz glanced at the sheet and saw that Oscar started work shortly after eight. Cruz would have much preferred that the time records were from a time clock with an automatic time stamp, rather than handwritten. He could have trusted them more. Still, it was a small place. Tracy probably had a handle on when her employees arrived.
Meg had said that she’d left her condo around seven. That wouldn’t have given him much time to trash the place. Plus somehow between her arrival at work and noon, he’d have had to get over to the hotel, bang up her car and plant the bad fish.
“He was here the whole day?” Cruz asked.
Tracy nodded. “All day. He did have to run out midmorning. We got an unexpected contribution from one of the big grocery stores in town. They had a bunch of canned goods that were coming up on their expiration date. The need in this community is pretty great so we wanted to get it picked up and sorted, then distributed as quickly as possible.”
“Where is the grocery store?”
The woman walked over to a large map that was tacked to a cork bulletin board. “Here,” she said.
Cruz looked at the map, figured out where the hotel was in relation to the grocery store and realized that the two were less than fifteen blocks apart. “How long was he gone?”
Now Tracy was looking at him oddly. “Less than an hour. Is something wrong, Detective?” she asked. “This is a small place, with very few employees. We don’t want any trouble.”
If the guy was telling the truth, Cruz was close to screwing up any hopes of him keeping this particular job. “No. Nothing’s wrong,” he said. “Thank you for your help.”
Cruz nodded at Oscar as he left the building. The man didn’t respond.
Cruz got in his car and started driving toward the grocery store. Once inside, Cruz gave a woman at the service counter his business card and she went off to look for the manager. Cruz waited impatiently.
The manager was a young black man dressed in a white shirt, dark pants and a tie. His head was totally shaved and it reminded Cruz that he should get a haircut. The man shook Cruz’s hand. “Detective Montoya,” he said. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m attempting to verify the time that a pickup was made at your store yesterday. A man came from the food pantry and got some canned goods.”
“We can check. We log that kind of activity.” The young man led him through the store, back to the dock area. There were big trucks and it smelled like diesel fuel. It was hot in comparison to the air-conditioned store.
The manager pulled a clipboard off a hook and
* * *
C RUZ DROVE TO the food pantry. He found Oscar unpacking cans of peaches. The man was the right height and weight and he was throwing around the heavy cases of canned fruit with ease.
Good arm strength, Meg had said.
“Mr. Warren,” Cruz said. “I’m Detective Cruz Montoya and I’m investigating a series of incidents that have occurred at or near the BJM Hotel.” He didn’t want to show too much of his hand too soon.
The man shifted his weight from foot to foot. He seemed nervous. Given that he’d recently done time, Cruz realized that just having a cop want to chat might be enough to raise the blood pressure.
“I haven’t worked at the hotel for months,” he said.
“I know that. Where were you last night around nine?”
“Home.”
“Anybody there with you?”
The man shook his head. “I live alone,” he said.
“What about yesterday morning?”
“I was here, working.”
“Anybody verify that?” Cruz asked.
The man pointed to a woman wearing blue jeans and a gray T-shirt. “Tracy runs the place. She was here, too.”
He was working for a woman. Maybe he wasn’t too bent out of shape.
It took Tracy less than five minutes to verify that Oscar had indeed been working the previous day. She showed Cruz a handwritten time sheet. “I got in early yesterday, about six. Oscar came in at his regular time.”
Cruz glanced at the sheet and saw that Oscar started work shortly after eight. Cruz would have much preferred that the time records were from a time clock with an automatic time stamp, rather than handwritten. He could have trusted them more. Still, it was a small place. Tracy probably had a handle on when her employees arrived.
Meg had said that she’d left her condo around seven. That wouldn’t have given him much time to trash the place. Plus somehow between her arrival at work and noon, he’d have had to get over to the hotel, bang up her car and plant the bad fish.
“He was here the whole day?” Cruz asked.
Tracy nodded. “All day. He did have to run out midmorning. We got an unexpected contribution from one of the big grocery stores in town. They had a bunch of canned goods that were coming up on their expiration date. The need in this community is pretty great so we wanted to get it picked up and sorted, then distributed as quickly as possible.”
“Where is the grocery store?”
The woman walked over to a large map that was tacked to a cork bulletin board. “Here,” she said.
Cruz looked at the map, figured out where the hotel was in relation to the grocery store and realized that the two were less than fifteen blocks apart. “How long was he gone?”
Now Tracy was looking at him oddly. “Less than an hour. Is something wrong, Detective?” she asked. “This is a small place, with very few employees. We don’t want any trouble.”
If the guy was telling the truth, Cruz was close to screwing up any hopes of him keeping this particular job. “No. Nothing’s wrong,” he said. “Thank you for your help.”
Cruz nodded at Oscar as he left the building. The man didn’t respond.
Cruz got in his car and started driving toward the grocery store. Once inside, Cruz gave a woman at the service counter his business card and she went off to look for the manager. Cruz waited impatiently.
The manager was a young black man dressed in a white shirt, dark pants and a tie. His head was totally shaved and it reminded Cruz that he should get a haircut. The man shook Cruz’s hand. “Detective Montoya,” he said. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m attempting to verify the time that a pickup was made at your store yesterday. A man came from the food pantry and got some canned goods.”
“We can check. We log that kind of activity.” The young man led him through the store, back to the dock area. There were big trucks and it smelled like diesel fuel. It was hot in comparison to the air-conditioned store.
The manager pulled a clipboard off a hook and
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