Bouncer (6 page)

“Ah, sensitive are we? Well, tell me about it. My nickname in college was ‘Clomper’, dubbed such by my adoring roommate because of my limp. Not very conducive to promoting the comforting image of high-speed chases and TV show romances on our training course Bible,
Law and Order
. Those women are part Tomb Raider and Marie Curie all tied up in one. Brains and brawn. At least I have the brains, not like those waxen babes you’re coupled with.”

“Waxen babes.” The image was so apt that Nick laughed. She was clearly as wounded as he. “Look, Ms. Fox. Let’s quit the verbal sparring for now. I concede you’re likely an expert on the Peebles case. I’ve been assigned to the Mayor’s murder case, whether you like it or not, and all I know is that it bears a remarkable similarity to the Peebles murder. So, I’m asking you the only way I know how… can you help me out?”

“Are you getting a fee?” she asked abruptly.

“What? A fee?

“Is the Monroe Police Department paying you a fee for your services?”

“Well, yes, of course.”

“Then I want half.”

“Half?”

“That’s right. You’ve taken at least fifty percent of my business in the region for over the past eighteen months, so I want some back. It’s clear to me that you’re in with the boys, and even though my father and brother had a great reputation with the MCPD, I need a chance to prove to the police department—and everyone else, for that matter—that I’m a competent investigator. If I help you, you have to help me. I need your endorsement and their business. If I work with you on this case while Roger is laid up, it could be beneficial for both of us.” She paused significantly and eyed him disconcertingly. “I may even surprise you if you can get over your prejudices regarding my physical handicaps and womanly deficiencies.”

Nick stared in amazement. Never in his life had he met a woman so blunt or seemingly callous about her own shortcomings. He suspected there was a lot more to Lea Fox then her superficial unattractiveness suggested. Suddenly, the great trait that made him one of the best detectives around surfaced as his curiosity overwhelmed him. He’d always suffered the acute need to
know
even as a child, and it was that one fatal flaw that had subsequently ruined his ordered and sequential life. He wanted to figure out this petite woman who stood so defiantly before him and determine just why she half-fascinated, half-repelled him. He rose from the creaky wooden chair and stuck out his hand while falling back on his old standby: the appropriate or inappropriate quote.

“
The only sure basis of an alliance is for each party to be equally afraid of the other
.”

“Okay,” said Lea evenly. “You’ve stumped me. Who said it?”

“Thucydides, over 2000 years ago.”

“I like the mutual fear part. It’s probably the best way to start our alliance on this case because believe me, your charm is wasted on me.”

Nick frowned. He’d have to keep a clear head around this woman. “Okay, Lea Fox. I’ll agree to your terms, but you’re not to forget I lead on this and answer directly to Roger Chung and Chief Rollins. You’re to stay in the background.”

They shook, Nick amazed by her strong grip.

“In the background,” she agreed demurely between clenched teeth, her left hand hidden behind her back, the small fingers crossed. Nick Thayne had no idea what he was in for
.
If Nick Thayne  thought she was simply going to hand him the folder and allow him to walk out to work on it that evening at Louise’s Boarding House over a few cups of too-strong coffee and some leftover pizza, he was way off base. He wasn’t getting one glance at the sacred files without Lea Fox right at his shoulder. Nick said nothing as he ran across the first set of photos, which were gruesome in their simplicity.

“They didn’t locate her finger at first,” stated Lea matter-of-factly.

“How’d they find the body?”

“A migrant worker suggested the girl had moved in with Luke or Deke. Upon searching their vehicle, they found blood in Deke’s car. Both men swore they were innocent, though it was clear Ashley was involved with one or both of them. They later found a mass of blood all over the bathroom of the room the men shared—type AB. Deke’s was O, and Luke’s was A. Rather damning, I’d say.”

A sudden frown crossed her face, and she moved to the filing cabinet again as he perused the file. “I’m certain I have photos of Deke and Luke somewhere. Anyway, the body was found purely by chance some two days later near the river, covered haphazardly by a thin layer of autumn leaves. The girl had been strangled and stabbed but not raped, but the coroner found an amazing detail. Ashley Peebles had given birth less than a week before her murder.”

“Was the baby’s body ever found?”

“Nope,” said Lea, “but Richard Rollins—the inspector at the time—was certain he’d captured the culprits. The blood in Luke and Deke’s bathroom matched Ashley’s, so he figured they had to be the killers. Ah, here they are.” She tossed two black-and-white photos upon the lovely desk.

Nick pushed aside the graphic photo of Ashley Peebles’ scantily clad and bloodied body, concentrating instead on the young men’s images. One was a handsome, dark-haired man by the name of Luke Cambridge, and the other a surly greasy-haired redneck named Deke Rhodes. No doubt about it—Jeremy Fox had been particularly meticulous about collecting every detail regarding the case. There were old newspaper cutouts and photographs, extensive coverage of the trial, and numerous photographs of the body. Both men had been convicted, and before Deke Rhodes had even come up for parole, he was killed in a laundry-room brawl.

“So, Luke Cambridge is still serving time?”

“Hasn’t ever been granted parole, though he’s has another hearing coming soon.” 

“No sexual assault?”

“No. While his fingerprints were found on bloody scissors in his bathroom, and Luke admitted to having been with the girl weeks before the murder, no assault was indicated. That’s what bothered my father, since the court presented a love triangle as the reason for her murder. The deciding evidence was a pair of pantyhose found in the dash of Deke’s car. It was ascertained the nylons were the murder weapon; that and the scissors. There was no doubt Luke knew the girl, and while he adamantly stated he hadn’t killed her, there was powerful evidence he and Deke had murdered her and perhaps even the baby. The baby had most likely been born in their small flat, but no infant was ever found. No matter what their innocence or guilt, a jury found them guilty. Everyone accepted the verdict until my father received this over two years ago.”

She handed him a tattered white envelope, and Nick pulled out the well-read letter, scanning it briefly. In it, Luke Cambridge begged Jeremy Fox to reconsider the evidence in the Ashley Peebles case. He swore that he was entirely innocent, and now that Jeremy Fox was a well-known private investigator, he urged him to reopen his case.

“So, did your father take on the case?”

“Of course he did. Both Lane and my father had a profound sense of justice, and my dad later told me that he’d always suspected Deke and Luke hadn’t killed the girl.”

“Your dad was police chief at the time of the murder, wasn’t he?”

She nodded. “The chief investigator was Richard Rollins, who presently serves as police chief. Even to me, the evidence seemed a bit too pat. The two men were drifters who worked at the nearby Agrit-Empire harvesting potatoes, onions, and spinach. Apparently, Deke thought he was destined to be some sort of magnificent rodeo rider. The DA suggested they were short of cash and morals, and Ashley Peebles was a young girl looking for something to lift her out of her restrictive fundamentalist lifestyle. The case against Deke and Luke was weak on all counts. The defense lawyer proved that, while Ashley had delivered her baby in their bathroom, there was no indication she had met her end there. Luke testified that the pantyhose were indeed hers, but when she went into labor and they’d removed them to help facilitate the birth process. They stated she went into labor in their car.”

“If the evidence was so flimsy, how were they convicted?” Nick watched Lea carefully. While it appeared she’d just pulled the file from the cabinet after his arrival, Lea had obviously familiarized herself with the case recently or simply had an incredible memory. He’d place his bets on the former.

“A fact arose that turned the tables on the two men. The DA insisted Ashley’s murder was a crime of passion. Luke had mistakenly believed he was the father of Ashley’s child and later discovered someone else had fathered her newborn baby. Luke was addicted to speed, and when arrested, was higher than a kite. No one could get a straight answer out of him, and Deke… Well, Deke was just plain vile. My father said he had never met a more foul-mouthed, hideously mannered man in his entire life. He admitted to sleeping with Ashley weeks before the murder, and Luke went berserk, nearly killing him right there before the jury. His inopportune fit of rage sealed his fate, and because of it, Luke has served about twenty-five years now for the crime I’m sure he didn’t commit.”

“How much more does he have to go?”

“He’s serving twenty-five to life, though I believe there might be a good chance for him to get out on parole within the next couple of years. However, the Peebles campaign against that every time his parole hearings come up and have thwarted any chance he’s had, though Luke’s been a model prisoner. The family refers to him as the devil leading the innocent astray and all.”

“The Peebles are still in town?”

“No, they moved out of the area shortly after her murder. Tyson Peebles worked for Anthony Montanari and the Agrit-Empire and felt he just couldn’t stay in the area after the murder, so they took their son, Johnny, with them and left. I think Tyson owns some sort of cattle ranch east of Sacramento, but every time he hears about the hearing, the entire family trots down to Modesto and makes sure that Luke doesn’t have a chance this side of hell of getting out.”

“He wields that sort of power?”

“But of course,” said Lea. “His uncle was State Controller for years, and his grandfather was a district judge. Tyson Peebles is a good ole boy, and all good ole boys look after one another.” She nearly spat the words at him.

“You really have it in for the good old boy network, don’t you?”

“I’ve seen it work its magic, and no woman, no matter how good she is, will ever break in. That’s why you were hired when Roger went down, not me. And that’s also why you could prove beneficial for my situation. You’re already one of the good ole boys in spite of your ethnic peculiarities, and you’re going to grant me access into the inner circles of the Monroe City Police Department.”

“Ethnic peculiarities—now, that’s an interesting term. So, why is it so crucial you infiltrate the inner circles?” asked Nick, half-amused.

Lea studied Nick Thayne’s handsome visage. He was even better looking in person; the dailies didn’t remotely do him justice. His lips, sensual and full, rested below eyes only slightly slanted and imbued with rich warm brown earth tones guaranteed to drive most women wild. His hair, cut in layers, allowed the thick black mane to surround his lean face dramatically. At 6’2”, his well-toned body seemed uncomfortable in the overly stiff chair.

Lea was reminded of the exotic heritages of Keanu Reeves and Lou Diamond Phillips, though he was far better looking than either. His deep voice brilliantly managed to be soothing and sensual at the same time. He was the kind of man a woman could dreamily listen to for hours, that perfect blend of college professor and talk show host that gained your trust and weakened your defenses. She hated men like him because they were already half-way around the track before she’d even finished lacing up her running shoes.

“My dad never got to solve this case. He believed to the day he died that Luke Cambridge was innocent. I’ve vowed to continue the case and make sure I prove his innocence, even if it’s been twenty-five years and I was only a girl of six when it happened. And now, the mayor’s been murdered.” She appeared almost gleeful.

“Ex-mayor,” corrected Nick.

“Whatever; once a mayor, always a mayor. Thad’s been murdered and his finger’s been severed just like Ashley Peebles’ was twenty-five years ago. A remarkable coincidence.”

Nick pulled out the close-up of the picture of the missing finger from underneath the photos of the two convicted murderers. Lea reached into the top drawer of the antique desk and removed a small electronic gadget about 1 ½ times the size of a standard paperback. She whipped out a cord similar to a cell phone charger and plugged it in. Her thin fingers flew across a small keyboard.

“Indeed,” said Nick. “Someone wanted us to find her ring. Someone who knew how she died and believed justice hadn’t been served.”

“Or is a serial killer taunting the people. But, that’s a long space between kills.”

“You have a photograph of the ring?” asked Nick.

“Yes, but unfortunately it’s not a close-up. The silver ring was one that her great-grandmother had apparently passed down to the oldest girl child in the Peebles’ family for several generations. It was a silver ring made of layers of braided rope, apparently quite unique.” Lea pulled the photo from her desk drawer and pushed it across the desk. In it, a pretty Ashley Peebles, dressed in an elaborate Cleopatra Halloween outfit, smiled for the camera. Her jeweled arms crossed her chest and the ring in question glittered in the light provided by the camera’s flash. Nick fished in his pocket and removed the Polaroid. The two rings were identical.