Chapter Nine
Dutch’s office was a chaotic mess. My gaze roved over the piles of paper covering his desk to the fast food containers spilling from the trash can to the wanted posters and bloody crime scene photos plastered all over the walls. Did he have hoarder tendencies or was he just a slob? I eyed the ketchup splattered computer screen. Slob. “Charming décor.”
Dutch rumbled from behind me. “It’s the maid’s day off.”
I glanced over my shoulder and my jaw dropped. Whoa! Dutch was wearing a sharp, black business suit and his beard was gone.
“I have court today.” He explained as he ushered me into his office.
“Oh.” I studied Dutch’s colorfully bruised face. “Did the security guards give you that shiner?”
Dutch removed a gym bag and ballistic vest from the chair beside his desk. “Cut the innocent act. You know damn well how I got these bruises.”
“Right. The mysterious Ninja Nun kicked your butt,” I responded.
“You’re a real riot.” Dutch pointed at the chair and ordered, “Sit.”
“I’m not a dog. I don’t fetch, heel or roll over on command.”
“Do you do everything the hard way?”
I countered, “Are you always an ass?”
“Please, sit,” Dutch said, his teeth bared in the semblance of a smile.
I sat. “See? Being polite works so much better.”
“Uh huh.” Dutch’s hand closed around an empty soda can, crushing it into an itty-bitty ball.
For a moment the feral glint in his eyes had me worried. A sigh of relief escaped me when Dutch dropped the crumpled can in the overflowing trash.
A trace of satisfaction flashed across Dutch’s face. “Where are the ownership documents for Tinkerbell?”
I handed them to him. “Her name is Tink.”
“Did you know the North Phoenix Animal Rescue has ties to radical animal rights activists?”
“Really? I find that surprising. The Maricopa County Sheriff’s office referred me to them.”
Dutch gave me a narrowed-eyed glare. “These animal activists are responsible for several deaths.”
If he was trying to get a reaction out of me, it wouldn’t work. Other than bee stings, no one had died or been hurt in our rescues. “How awful! I hope you lock them up and throw away the key.”
“Someone with your abilities would be an asset.” There was a note of censure in Dutch’s voice.
I gasped in outrage. “Do you really think I would work with someone who killed people?”
He stared at me for a long moment. “No, you’re not a killer.”
Hallefrickinlujah! He believed me. Now all I needed to do was get Dutch to focus on the murder not the activists or the Ninja Nun. “How did Maria die?”
“Gunshot wounds to the chest.”
“God, I hope she didn’t shoot herself.”
Dutch frowned. “Why would you say that?”
“Maria bought a .380 Ruger from a pawnshop. That idiot should never have sold a novice a gun with a hair trigger.”
“You saw the gun?”
I shuddered dramatically. “I sure did, right before she blew a hole in my floor. Missed my foot by an inch.”
“The bullet is still there?”
“No. I dug it out.”
Dutch let out a long-suffering sigh. “Please tell me you didn’t throw it away.”
“Of course not, I am a detective,” I huffed.
“Who finds lost animals and has no actual training in police work.”
“I’m working on my BA in criminal justice.” I reached into my purse and pulled out a clear plastic envelope with a smashed piece of lead inside. “Here. Happy now?”
Dutch took it. “Why are you helping me?”
“I want Maria’s killer found too.”
“When was the last time you saw or talked with Maria?”
“The day she hired me.”
“Is this your receipt?” Dutch held up an evidence bag with my blood-stained receipt in it.
Nausea rolled through me. “Yes.”
“What makes you think Maria’s sister might be involved in her death?”
“She’s a skank.” I watched the tiny tic in Dutch’s jaw intently. Was he grinding his teeth? I bet he was.
“Anything else?”
“What?”
“Do you have any cold, hard evidence that the skank is involved in Maria’s death?”
Did he want me to do his job for him? “Here’s a thought. Why don’t you interrogate her?”
“She’s missing,” Dutch shot back.
“Oh. Not good.”
His voice was taut with anger, Dutch snapped, “No, it’s not.”
“You think she’s dead too?”
Dutch’s tapped his computer keyboard and turned the screen toward me. An amputated finger with sparkly neon green polish was displayed in graphic color. “What do you think?”
“Are you sure that’s her finger?”
“We’re waiting for the DNA tests to come back.” Dutch ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “But that could take weeks.”
“The skank could still be alive,” I stated.
“The medical examiner says the finger was severed postmortem.”
That would explain the blood-soaked sand in the warehouse. “You think Tomas is responsible for killing them?”
Dutch assumed his stoic cop face. “He is a person of interest.”
“And am I? A person of interest?”
He laughed. “You could say that.”
Awesome. I gave him a bright smile. “Well, this has been fun, but I have a client to meet.” My cellphone buzzed loudly as I stood up. Jana was waiting for me in the morgue.
“Don’t leave town and stay away from Tomas,” Dutch warned.
I saluted him. “Yes, sir.”
“If I see the Ninja Nun again, I will arrest her.”
“If you can catch her,” I taunted.
“Is that a challenge?”
“What do you think?”
A predatory gleam filled Dutch’s eyes. “Challenge accepted.”