pages.
“Sure.”
“Cause of death was a GSW close range. Let’s see, you already know all that. We had a handful of old tattoos, all photographed. Tox screen shows THC.” The sound of him flipping another page came through the ear piece of the phone. “I have the time of death at five days prior to him being discovered—that’s about it really.”
“Alright, thanks.”
“No problem.”
I hung up and plugged the guy’s name into our computer system to see if he had a record, he did. A DUI two years ago and some disorderly conducts a few years back. There were a number of times over the years he had been busted with marijuana, nothing major. I printed his sheet out, tossed it into the file and took it with me to our station’s fax machine to grab the autopsy report. On my way back to my office my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out. It was Callie. I hit talk.
“Hey.”
Her voice sounded frantic. “Carl, I just called 9-1-1 from the bar. I didn’t want you to get all freaked out, I’m fine.”
I stopped walking. “What’s going on?”
“I just got to work to open up. I was walking up to unlock the place when the restaurant owner next door came from the back running. She was screaming to call 9-1-1.”
“What happened?”
“She said that two of her employees were dead inside. They were shot.”
“Get her, and lock yourselves inside Lefty’s. I’m on my way.”
I hung up and went to the captain’s office. He hung up the phone as I entered.
“Kane, grab Rawlings. Double homicide over at Tamboro’s restaurant and bar.”
“I just got off the phone with Callie. She’s the one who made the call to 9-1-1.”
“Is she OK?”
“I guess the owner next door came from the back of the building screaming. Callie called 9-1-1, and then called me. I told her to get the woman and lock themselves in Callie’s bar until we got there.”
“Good idea. Cars were already dispatched.”
“I’ll get Hank. I’ll call you.”
“OK.”
I found Hank at his desk. We were gone from the station in under five minutes.
Chapter 13
Ray sat on the edge of the pool in a pair of black swim trunks. His cell phone buzzed—Viktor again. He’d called six times. Viktor wanted to know what was going on. He got angrier with each voice message. Ray sent the incoming call to voicemail. He needed to call Viktor back, but he needed to have something planned first.
The guys in the freezer would make it difficult, if not impossible, to take Callie from the bar. The neighboring restaurant would be full of cops. The police would talk with the other businesses and owners. They’d patrol the area throughout the night. They would figure out that the security system at her bar had been disabled.
He lifted his wine glass to his lips. Ray took in a mouthful and tried to come up with a something. He needed to know where she lived.
Ray grabbed his phone from the small table a few feet away and clicked through the prompts until he found the last photo he took, the photo of the bar’s employee schedule. Next to Callie’s name for the day, it read open til’ close . He grabbed the time from his Rolex: 2:36 p.m. He finished his glass of wine and dunked himself into the pool.
After a swim, he went in the house for a shower. He pulled on a white button up dress shirt and donned a gray suit and tie.
Ray left the house in the Mercedes SUV for downtown Tampa. He needed to be sure Callie was at work. He rolled past the front of the restaurant where he’d left the two bodies. A couple of police cars sat out front. Police tape circled the block. Police officers filled the sidewalk. Ray made a right at the corner in front of Lefty’s. His eyes locked on the bar. The lights were on inside. The alley behind the bar came into view. Two squad cars sat in the back next to the rear door of the restaurant. Two men in suits stepped out of a white Corvette—behind their car sat the blue BMW. A girl sat on the hood. It was her. One