Chapter 43 Jagg
JAGG
Iset a paper bowl of water next to the edge of the patio outside of a coffee shop named Deja Brew, then settled into a corner table shaded by a massive maple tree. Max lapped up the water, leaving a trail of slobber across my boot as he plopped down next to my chair.
God it was hot.
I’d felt like an idiot ordering a bowl of water with my cup of coffee, but what was I supposed to do?
I could only assume wearing a coat of fur in this blistering heat was nothing short of torture.
That, and Sunny would have my ass if the dog got dehydrated while under my care.
She probably had a test for it or something.
I looked down at the furball at my feet, his long tongue hanging out of his mouth, drooling with short pants of breath. He looked up at me and his tail thumped against the chair. I ruffled his ears and wondered how Brute’s vet appointment was going.
I’d chosen the outdoor patio for two reasons, one, I didn’t want to leave Max in the Jeep. God forbid PETA show up at my doorstep, and two, I wanted privacy for the meeting I was about to have.
After wiping my palm on my pants, I picked up my phone to check if I had any missed calls or texts from Sunny.
I didn’t. Then I pulled up an image of Kenzo Rees.
My jaw clenched. I clicked into my videos and watched the grainy black and white video of the Black Bandit sneaking out the back door of Mystic Maven’s Art Shop, moments before Seagrave was shot to death.
I flipped back and forth between Rees’s image and the video, then rewound the video ten times watching the smooth movements of the heist, the speed, the single focus of the Cedonia Scroll, then the jog down the steps—and that damn limp.
The left hip limp…
The left hip…
Mind racing, I slid my phone into my pocket then took a sip of my eight-dollar coffee. I liked my coffee black, strong and piping hot. No matter what the weather.
I was scrolling through my unread emails when clicks of heels on the hardwood told me my company had arrived.
I looked up to see a striking blonde in a grey skirt-suit and black heels that added four inches to her already tall frame.
Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, a pair of thick, black, trendy glasses over blue eyes.
I don’t know what I expected when I’d scheduled a meeting with an art investigator, but that wasn’t it.
Add red lipstick and a loose tie and this chick could have walked straight out of a Poison video.
And, yet, my dick had no response. Not a single salute.
Sunny. Sorcery. There was no other explanation to it.
I stood and thrust out my hand.
“Agent Morgan.”
“Briana.” We shook hands, hers strong and commanding as if to let me know that although she was one of the few women in an industry dominated by men, she was no fool. Briana had an air of confidence about her as pungent as her spicy perfume. I knew her type, and I knew exactly how to do this dance.
“Cute dog.” She kneeled down and pet Max’s head. He groaned in satisfaction. This guard dog didn’t care about my safety. Sunny was his only master. Got it.
I motioned to the chair across from me. “Please. Sit.” As she did, I said, “Sorry about the choice of seating, but—”
“Discretion. I get it.” She set her designer purse on the chair next to her. Business must be good.
“Would you like some coffee?” I asked, already knowing the answer. Briana had learned long ago that the best way to work with her male counterparts was to keep meetings short, sweet and direct. No coffee. No drinks.
“No, thank you,” she politely responded.
“You’re a tough gal to get ahold of.”
“I’m busy.”
And important, I get it.
“Well, thanks for squeezing me in. As I said when we spoke earlier, I wanted to talk to you about the Cedonia Scrolls your company insured and your investigation surrounding the heist of the pieces.”
“You want to talk about Lieutenant Jack Seagrave’s murder.”
Briana came to play.
Good.
I leaned forward. “Miss Morgan, the piece you’re investigating is currently tied to a local homicide. Your cooperation here is not only appreciated but expected.”
“Do you have a warrant for my notes on the case?”
“Alright,” I narrowed my eyes. “Let’s just cut through the bullshit here, then. I want you to help me find the Black Bandit.”
“And what do I get in return?”
“Not to be charged with obstruction of justice.”
Her perfectly plucked brow arched. “Or, I could turn you in for threatening a potential informant. I believe they call that police misconduct. I’m sure your boss and Chief McCord would love to hear about this little meeting.”
Apparently the Cedonia Scrolls weren’t the only things Briana had investigated before calling me back.
“Have you ever lost a loved one, Briana?”
The flicker in her blue eyes told me yes.
“Me, too.” I said. “Most whose cases have gone cold. And you’re right.
I technically need a warrant for information you might have to help me solve a murder.
And I’ll get it, you can bet those diamond studs you’ve got in your ears on that.
But I’d rather not spend the rest of the day cutting through red tape.
So, Miss Morgan, to answer your question—what do you get if you help me out right now?
A solid night’s sleep after knowing you did everything you could to bring a slain officer justice. ”
Her stare was loaded with calculated calmness.
“How did you know I was the one working the Cedonia Scroll case?”
“How did you know Chief McCord wants my badge?”
A moment ticked by before she finally nodded. “I’ll help you. Under one circumstance.”
“Name it.”
“I want to be credited for helping find the Lieutenant’s murderer.”
It shouldn’t have surprised me. This woman wore her career goals as blatantly as the label on her purse.
“Done.”
“Good. What do you want to know?”
“There are four Cedonia Scrolls total. Were all four scrolls stolen from the same man?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve uncovered three so far. I want to know how.”
“The scrolls were stolen together, but then sold off piece by piece. Each scroll was worth more separately than all four together. I recovered the first three before they even touched their buyer’s hands.”
“Impressive.”
“I like to think so.”
“How did you do it?”
She shook her head. “I don’t reveal my sources, surely you understand that. Besides, this isn’t about the first three scrolls, this is about the fourth, stolen from Mystic Maven’s Art Shop.”
“Why has the fourth been so hard to track down?”
“It was the most valuable of the group. It’s changed hands several times since it was stolen.”
“How did you recover the first three so easily?”
“By a little quid pro quo.”
“Seems to be the theme in your career.”
“Didn’t get here by the color of my hair, no matter what you think.”
“I don’t doubt that, Miss Morgan. I can spot a snake when I see one. And I respect it. Now, tell me, all four scrolls are connected to the same underground buyer, aren’t they?”
She stared back at me, blankly. That answer was yes.
I continued. “Being able to recover three pieces of stolen art so quickly suggests you had inside knowledge of this buyer. You’re working with someone to recover the scrolls. Who?”
Her head tilted to the side as she took a moment to respond. Bingo. Briana Morgan was working with someone.
“Who?” I repeated.
“Someone with a lot to lose,” she said, finally.
“Like going back to prison?”
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
“Your informant is the Black Bandit, isn’t it?”
No response.
I continued. “The Black Bandit is stealing the scrolls for you, isn’t he? Because, as you said, he’s got a lot to lose, and it’s tied to those scrolls.”
A slow blink. This definitely wasn’t her first rodeo with law enforcement.
“Give me the name, Morgan.”
“I wish I could.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know it. My informant communicates with me through a burner phone. A new number every few days.”
“Give me the latest number.”
“Sure, but it won’t do you any good. All of a sudden this person has clammed up. Won’t return my calls, texts. It’s as if they’ve vanished into thin air.”
“But you’ve met the person. Tell me what they look like.”
“No, you’re assuming. I didn’t technically meet the person. We arranged a drop for swapping information. I staked out the place for two days before.”
“So you think you saw who it was?”
“I believe so, yes.”
“Describe the person. Tell me what you know.”
“I won’t, Detective, because I’m not one-hundred percent sure that who I think it is, is it.”
“Bullshit.”
Her brow slowly cocked. She was playing me now. She’d met with the Bandit. I knew it in my bones. But she wasn’t going to share this with me. Why?
“Is Kenzo Rees the Black Bandit?”
“I can’t confirm or deny that, Detective.”
“Well, for your sake, I hope it isn’t, Morgan, because if so, you’ve struck a deal with the devil and I’d keep one eye open if I were you.”
We stared at each other for a minute. It was like looking in the damn mirror. Briana was not going to break.
“What about Julian Griggs? Does that name ring a bell to you?”
“The victim in the Slaying in the Park? I don’t know him personally,” she said. “Just heard the gossip.”
“What about a blue four-door sedan? Ever seen one of those at your clandestine meetings with the Bandit?”
She flipped over her palm and shook her head. “Not that I’ve noticed.”
My patience cashed out. I popped my fist against the table, sending my coffee toppling over. Max skittered to the corner. Briana Morgan didn’t flinch.
“The Black Bandit is either the person who killed Lieutenant Seagrave, or is the key to finding out who did it. I also believe they’re involved in the Slaying in the Park. I’m going to ask you again, Miss Morgan, tell me what you know about the Bandit. Tell me what you know about Kenzo Rees.”
“The Black Bandit…” she tilted her head thoughtfully to the side, her voice as calm and maddening as the flippant look on her face. “Who picked that name, anyway?”
“An anonymous witness to one of those heists, but now having meant you, and listening to the tone of the question, I’m willing to bet money it’s you. You did.”
“Interesting.” She stood, grabbed her purse and gazed down at me. “Look closer, Detective.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
She turned away and sauntered across the patio.
Look closer.
“Hey, Morgan?”
She paused at the door but didn’t grace me with a glance.
“I’ll have the warrant in your hands by this evening.”
“I have no doubt you will, Detective. Good day.”