Chapter Two
RAVEN
Miguel and I spent another hour at the diner recounting how we thought the Flores ruby and Mulberry diamond were connected. We told them what Sutter had shared about the smuggling operation the rogue CIA cell was involved in. And how they’d stolen a cache of jewels. They’d meant to be used to pay off warlords who wouldn’t take the paper currency the U.S. government was offering in exchange for intelligence about terrorists who were operating in Afghanistan. A Pakistani broker had stolen the jewels from the cell and shipped them to the States, later claiming they’d been stolen, but he’d been murdered by Mendez in a fit of anger. It only made sense that jewels were being sold in black market auctions arranged by Rosina Cassanova’s wealthy contacts.
Finally, we’d told them about the mysterious hand-delivered letters Mr. Flores had been receiving at his office, and how we suspected they were meant to scare him enough to give up the pigeon’s blood ruby. They’d found that aspect of the case very interesting, not only because Mr. Flores had received several such letters, but also because Aston claimed his investigator had fingerprinted the envelopes. However, the writer must’ve been using gloves because there weren’t any fingerprints.
They’d finished off their coffee, promising to get back to us with any developments in the case, and left with a ton of notes in Mike’s pad. They’d made us promise to be careful as long as we were insistent upon continuing this recovery.
We really had no choice but to continue. We still had bills stacking up, and Aston and his client still wanted us on the case, running down the ruby. As I drove to the office, I couldn’t get the thought of Dave Reynolds out of my head. I never spared much thought about my own death, but I was sure that I’d never want to be murdered in a dilapidated, vacant building so nasty that my body remained undiscovered, unburied, and decomposing on the cold, hard ground. That was just too horrifying.
In Navajo culture, the old ones believed that a chindi —evil spirit—could follow a dead person into the afterlife unless several customs were followed. Some of these existed to this very day, like washing, wrapping, and burying the body with important objects which had belonged to the person. In ancient times, warriors were buried with their horse because they would have need of it in the afterlife. I liked the idea of the washing and wrapping which was also traditional in current Muslim culture. Men prepared the bodies of other men while women did the same with women before burial.
“What do you think about retracing Dave Reynolds’ footsteps? We could learn whatever he’d found out that got him murdered. That might give us a huge lead in finding this ruby.”
I felt Miguel’s gaze burning into me. “Are you crazy?”
I turned to look at him. “No. Why?”
“Well, first…hello, he was probably murdered for what he found out, but not only that, Cassidy and Mike sure as hell wouldn’t like us trampling on their homicide.”
I hadn’t thought about Cassidy and Mike, although the idea that trying to figure out what Dave Reynolds was working on could prove dangerous had. I nodded. “You’re right.” I sighed, trying to think of where to start. “Well, since Cassidy and Mike are going to be visiting our client and her attorney to ask questions about the investigator, why don’t we do a little bit of background on Mancuso?” I pulled into our office parking lot.
“That’s not a bad idea,” Miguel said, looking over at me as I parked in our space. “We probably should have told them about him.”
“I didn’t think about the bodyguard until after we’d left. Let’s see what we can learn about him before calling them. They have a lot of leads to follow to start off with.”
He nodded. “It’s not a bad idea, Raven. We can pass on whatever we find out about him. But you’re right, it sounds like they’re going to be busy with their homicide for the foreseeable future.”
I took his hand, kissing it before smiling. He grinned back as I dropped his hand. We got out of the truck and walked upstairs to the office. Judy was sitting at her desk, and she smiled as we walked in. She tore a few pink papers off her message pad and waved them at us.
“Good morning! I have good news,” she said, handing three phone messages to Miguel. “I’m pretty sure one of those is a new client.”
Miguel read the messages and then smiled, turning to me. “Good news.”
“We could sure use a new client. I was getting concerned.”
“Feeling unloved?” Judy asked, coming around the desk. She patted me on the bicep. “Don’t worry. Things will pick up and the news of your brilliance will spread, especially if you’re successful at recovering the ruby.”
Miguel nodded, obviously as touched as I was that she had faith in our business. “I agree. Do we have coffee?”
“I made a single cup for myself. I didn’t know when you’d be in since you were stopping for breakfast,” she said, walking toward the small kitchen at the back of the office. “Let me make a pot of coffee.”
“Thank you and then would you do me a favor and check someone out for me?” We followed her down the hallway into the small room.
“Sure. Who am I looking for?”
“A guy by the name of Salvatore Mancuso,” I said. “He was at our first meeting with Gregory Aston and Tawny Flores. He was carrying a concealed weapon, so you might start with gun licenses in California.”
“Also, I’d check military records,” Miguel added. “I’m pretty sure the guy has some sort of training. Call it a hunch but there was something about the way he carried himself that tells me he was former military.”
“Agreed. And look into his relationship to Tawny Flores,” I said. “She introduced him as her friend but we both got the impression they were somehow involved.”
“Involved?”
“In a relationship.”
Her mouth made a little O. “Salvatore Mancuso.”
“Right. Salvatore Mancuso, spelled just like it sounds.”
“Okay. Will do, boss,” she said, pressing the button on the coffee maker to start the drip. “That gives me somewhere to start.”
“Thanks, Judy,” I said, walking into our office and shucking my coat as Miguel followed. I took his jacket and hung it on the rack along with my own before sinking into my comfortable chair. I glanced over at him as he sat behind his desk. “Who’re the other messages from?”
He flipped through the pink papers. “One is from a guy I’ve never heard of, one is from some kind of insurance agent, and the other one is from Vonne.” He thought for a second. “Why didn’t he just call me back on my cell?” He stood up and dug his phone out of his pocket. “Shit. I had this thing turned off. When did I do that?”
I smiled to myself. “You know when.”
He glanced over before something dawned on him. “Oh shit. I turned it off last night because I kept getting spam calls.” He picked up the message. “I bet this insurance agent is a spam call too.”
“What’s the name of the company?” I asked.
“Brown, Butterfield, and Spaulding.”
I frowned. “That’s a really big insurance company. What do you want to bet it has something to do with a recovery?”
He stood and walked over, holding the pink message out to me. “You call that one. I’ll call the other guy back.”
“Who is it?”
He read the message. “Brian Leopard.” He smirked at me. “What kind of name is that?”
I shrugged, smiling. “I have no idea but why don’t you call Vonne first? It might be important.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that.” He went and sat back down, powering on his phone and dialing Vonne while I stared at the paper in my hand. One of Brown, Butterfield, and Spaulding’s recovery agents had paid me a visit over the course of my career. He’d thought that by probing a recovery agent working for GMS by plying me with flattery over noon cocktails, I might accidentally tell him something about the whereabouts of the Van Gogh…any little hidey hole. Long before BBS became the insurer, GMS had held the policy for a time.
When premiums went up, the client had taken their business across the street to BBS who had the nasty practice of cutting corners wherever they could. In my case, their recovery agent was hoping that by getting me drunk, I’d point the fingers back at his client, probably so they could raise premiums once they did find it. He was mistaken. There was nothing in my life more important than my integrity, including—of course—the love of my life, the man sitting next to me.
BBS was one of the bigger companies, like the one I was working for when I met Miguel…GMS, the one who’d insured the Mulberry diamond. Now, though, I was intrigued by the little pink message I was holding and decided to call them right away. Hopefully, I wouldn’t be running into the same tool who’d been shocked when I’d successfully recovered the Van Gogh and beaten him at his own game. Though the name Tomlinson didn’t ring a bell, he could still know of me.
The thought that Tomlinson might also be working on the recovery of the ruby was entirely possible since Mrs. Flores would have had time to make her claim by now. GMS insured it but even so, our recovery contract with Aston and Mrs. Flores stated that Trackers was the recovery agency of record. GMS would have had my replacement searching for the stone, but that didn’t mean anyone else, like a recovery agent from BBS, hadn’t caught wind of the ruby. Judy had been doing a daily search for new bounties to help us build our business and bring some cash in, but as far as I knew the recovery of the ruby wasn’t on the open market. If that had been the case, Tawny Flores would have been in breach of contract, so it was something we always monitored.
When we’d signed the contract, I’d thought about starting our search for the stone by talking to someone over there, but I deliberately hadn’t done that. I’d burned some bridges by quitting and taking Judy along with me when I’d left to open Trackers with Miguel. Calling my old boss to tell him that we’d been hired by Tawny Flores to recover an item GMS had insured, would have set his hair on fire. Miguel and I both decided it would have been a really bad idea. I picked up the phone and dialed BBS as Miguel stood up and walked out of the room, taking his phone with him.
I waited for the phone to connect and asked for Tomlinson. The receptionist put me on hold for a minute before coming back to me. “I’ll put you through to Mr. Tomlinson’s office now.”
“Thank you very much,” I replied. She put me on hold again and after another thirty seconds of soft jazz in my ear the phone was picked up by a man who cleared his throat.
“Is this Mr. Mathis from the Trackers Recovery Agency?”
“Yes, this is Raven Mathis. Mr. Tomlinson?”
“Yes. Thank you for calling back so quickly. I was hoping you could help me.”
“How can I help?”
“I’d like to be on the same page, so let me ask…were you employed by Grayson, Mallory, and Simms Insurance at one time?”
“Yes, I worked for GMS as a recovery agent.”
“I thought so. And now you and your partner have your own recovery agency,” he stated.
“That’s right.” I hesitated for a moment. “I’m sorry but was there something I can help you with?”
“Oh, yes. Thank you. It’s good to verify your employment with GMS…only because we lost out on a few nice recovery fees to a rival, and it seemed each time it was the same agent who got to them first. That was you, in case you were wondering.”
I smiled to myself, doing a silent fist bump. I’d been right. The guy who’d lost out on the Van Gogh recovery had been talking to colleagues. Miguel came back into the room holding two cups of coffee, smiling at me as he put one down on my desk. I smiled back and then realized I hadn’t said anything to Mr. Tomlinson.
“I’m sorry to hear that you lost out on that, Mr. Tomlinson, but how may I help you?”
“ Ah , to the point. I like that. In any case, I was wondering if I could make an appointment to come in and see you. I understand BBS might have a recovery which parallels one you’re working on.”
I frowned. A new theft maybe? So, this wasn’t about trying to get to the ruby at all. I was all ears. “My partner is here, Mr. Tomlinson. I’d like to put this call on speaker, if that’s okay.”
“Sure.”
I hit the button on the handset and leaned close. “Mr. Tomlinson, Mr. Huerta, is here.”
“Hi there, Mr. Tomlinson,” Miguel said. “I understand you’re looking for some help with a recovery you’re working on at BBS. Is that correct?”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Huerta. Yes, I could use your help if you’d be willing to meet with me. As I was telling your partner, we’re in the same business as Mr. Mathis’ previous employer, GMS insurance, and we recently received a claim for a high-value piece of diamond and emerald jewelry. In any case, since it was stolen—as Mr. Mathis will tell you—the insurance company always tries to recover the insured item before listing it with the public bounty hunters who are looking for a big payout, much like the work he used to do for GMS.”
Miguel rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m familiar with that practice.”
“Good. In any case, I was going through similar records of stolen high-value jewelry and came across your company which is currently under contract as recovery agents for a certain pigeon’s blood ruby pendant from the Benedict Flores’ estate.”
I rolled my eyes at Miguel. “I see.”
Tomlinson cleared his throat. “In any case, may I ask…have you been successful in the recovery yet?”
I mouthed the words “in any case” at Miguel before tilting my head back in a silent laugh. I cleared my own throat, returning to business. “ Uh …not so far, Mr. Tomlinson,” I said. “The recovery is proving to be troublesome. You said your company has a similar item…also stolen?”
“Yes, in any case, as I said, it’s a diamond and emerald necklace. Our client bought the necklace at a private auction, and we insured it for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars after we had it appraised. Last week, it was apparently stolen from my client’s house during what the police are calling…a routine burglary.”
“I see,” I said, feeling my eyebrows crawling up my forehead as I stared at Miguel. He just pursed his lips before breaking eye contact and leaning toward the phone.
“Mr. Tomlinson, this is Miguel Huerta. We’d be happy to talk to you in person. Would you like to come here, or shall we come to your office?”
“Either way. As you can imagine, BBS is anxious to return the necklace to its rightful owner as soon as possible.”
“We’ll come to you then,” I said. “When are you free?”
“Is this afternoon convenient?”
I checked my watch. “That would be fine. Shall we say one o’clock?”
“That’s great. In any case, let me give you the address.” He quickly rattled off the address and I wrote it down.
“We’ll see you today at one,” Miguel said into the phone.
“See you then.” He hung up, and I sat back in my chair as Miguel put both hands on my desk and hung his head.
“In any case, what are you thinking?” I said, smirking at him.
He lifted his head as he straightened, grinning at me. “Knock it off.” He paused as his smile faded. “I’m thinking this is the break we might have been waiting for, Raven. If this necklace turns out to be set with stones from that cache of stolen gems those CIA bastards are looking for, then we might just get somewhere on this recovery after all.”
“But he said it was stolen last week.” He knew what I meant. Bishop, Mendez, and Cassanova had been taken into custody and the CIA had probably stashed their asses in some deep, dark hole somewhere. But at least one other accomplice, Alex Filmore, was still out there, last seen in Berlin, Germany under that name. God only knew if he’d acquired an alias somewhere. As a former CIA operative, he would have extensive contacts all over. They were trained to be resourceful. For all we knew, he was already back in the U.S. trying to get to the rest of the stones.
“Are you thinking Alex Filmore had something to do with the theft?”
“Him or another accomplice. I know Sutter was debriefed at Langley about everything, but the U.S. Marshals have him stashed somewhere out of the way, don’t they?” John Sutter had requested to be put into WITSEC with Daniel and his mother Niloufar.
“Yes. From what Jarrett and Thayne’s friend, Kane Delancey says.”
“I don’t remember Sutter mentioning any details about another accomplice besides Filmore. Did I miss something?”
“He didn’t say anything to us, but I’m sure he would have mentioned it in his debrief when he was at Langley. The biggest hurdle I see is that if Sutter is in WITSEC, we’re gonna have a hell of a time talking to him.”
“Hang on. You mentioned Kane Delancey. That’s one of the guys who works at the ATF with Thayne and Jarrett, right?” I asked.
“Right, and apparently, he has connections with the Marshals office. He’s the one who reached out to some contacts at the WITSEC division to help in their relocation. I’m pretty sure he asked them for some special consideration or something.”
“And these friends of his would do that…why?” I asked.
He smirked. “I know all these letter agencies are confusing to you—”
“I’m not confused. Don’t patronize me,” I scoffed, interrupting him. “I just meant how is it that Delancey has connections with the Marshals and WITSEC. Did he transfer from the U.S. Marshals office to the ATF? I’m just trying to connect the dots here, Miguel.”
He nodded patiently. “Delancey has a special relationship with them and a lot of friends over there because he and his family were in the WITSEC program for almost twenty years before he went to work for the ATF.”
My jaw dropped open. “Are you kidding me?”
He smiled and shook his head. “No. He witnessed the murder of his father by a member of the Irish mob, so Delancey, his mother, and sister were put in the program when he was still a young teenager.”
I couldn’t believe that. “You learned about all of this from Jarrett and Thayne, I suppose.”
“Yeah. Jarrett and I were talking about it at their house two weeks ago.”
I suddenly felt left out. “Where was I when this conversation was happening?”
“You were in the house with Thayne.”
I thought about that night, picturing the fun we’d had with good friends, the food, the banter, and laughter. When it came back to me suddenly, I grinned. “Oh…when Thayne and I were playing with the ferrets.”
He chuckled. “Their names are Wilbur and Orville, apparently because they’re crazy and fly around the house.”
I laughed and then glanced at my watch, before turning back to my computer. “Okay…if we’re going to make that appointment with Tomlinson on time, I want to do some checking. I want to see what, if anything, BBS has put up online regarding the missing diamond and emerald necklace before we go. Though Tomlinson said they’re keeping the recovery in-house, I’d like to verify that they haven’t made it widely available to bounty hunters and other recovery agents. GMS used to keep all high-value recoveries close to the vest for at least a week to give their own in-house recovery agents first crack at them.”
“Okay, though, I doubt Tomlinson was lying. He must be pretty desperate if he’s calling us. I hope we can get something useful out of this meeting.” Miguel went to his desk and sat down.
“Let’s hope.” I glanced over. “Oh, hey, what did Vonne want?”
He looked up from his phone where he was scrolling. “He didn’t answer. I left a message on his machine at home. He doesn’t answer his cell while he’s at work, but I left him a message anyway.”
I nodded. “You’re gonna be in trouble for switching off your phone last night.”
He grimaced. “Yeah, I know, dammit.” He sighed. “Anyway, I’m sure he’ll call me back as soon as he gets a chance.” He stood again and walked over, holding out his hand. “Give me the message from that Lion guy.”
“Lion?” I frowned at him as he waved a hand over my desk. I picked up the small, pink message and smirked at him. “Leopard. The guy’s name is Brian Leopard.”
He chuckled. “Lion—Leopard, same difference.” He snatched it out of my hand. “I’ll return his call. If he tells me he wants me to find his cubs or something, I’m gonna be pissed.”
I turned back to my computer, chuckling again.