Secure Location - By Beverly Long Page 0,21
pieces stick out as if she’d poked her finger in a light socket. She probably weighed in at about two-fifty, making her almost as round as she was tall. “I have your information right here,” she said, pointing at a manila folder on the table.
He leafed through the photos. One Hispanic, one black and two white men. He studied the white men. They were full poses, not just head shots. “This guy looks pretty tall. You know his height?” he asked, holding up one.
“Well, everyone is tall compared to me, Mr. Montoya. However, I did hear him mention once that he was six-six.”
Cruz set it aside and picked up the other photo. “Tell me about this guy.”
“Oscar Warren. He was part of the first rotation so he hasn’t been at the hotel for several months.”
“What was he in prison for?”
“Aggravated arson. He set his girlfriend’s apartment on fire after he found her in bed with another woman.”
Another woman. It had been a punch when Meg had left him to follow another man across the country. Would it be better or worse if the woman you loved suddenly switched teams? Maybe he was pissed off at all women now, hated the whole breed. “Have you seen him since he ended his assignment at Meg’s hotel?”
“Of course. We arranged for his second rotation. He’s at a food pantry, on Fourth and Taylor.”
“I appreciate you showing me these,” Cruz said.
“I was sorry to hear about Meg’s trouble. But I know that none of these men were involved. Clients of our program are vetted very carefully and none of them want to do something foolish and end up back in prison.”
He looked around the room. “Looks as if it’s going to be a nice event. Did people have to buy tickets in advance?”
“Yes. We sold tickets at multiple locations around town as well as online. I was thrilled when we sold out days ago.”
Tickets in advance. That was good. It meant that bad guys, on a whim, a dare, or a meth high couldn’t decide to walk in and start causing trouble. But given that there were multiple access points, Meg’s tormentor simply would have needed to plan ahead a bit to have a good seat, one with a clear view of the stage.
“When will Meg give her speech?”
“We’ll have dinner first, then the awards presentation to both participants in the program and to business leaders who have helped keep the program alive. Then Meg’s speech will close out the event.” She studied him. “I was sure that I’d told Meg she could bring a guest.”
“You did,” he said. “But I thought I was going to have to work. I just found out this morning that I’m free.”
Beatrice’s eyes sparkled. “You know, Mr. Montoya, we still have one available seat at the head table. It would be a wonderful surprise for Meg.”
He wasn’t so sure about that but after last night, there was no way he intended to let Meg go to an evening event without protection. Slater could no doubt be convinced to keep a security officer with her. Jerk might even volunteer for duty himself.
Not a chance that Cruz was going to let that happen.
“That would be great,” he said. “I appreciate it.”
* * *
CRUZ DROVE TO the food pantry. He found Oscar unpacking cans of peaches. The man was the right height and weight and he was throwing around the heavy cases of canned fruit with ease.
Good arm strength, Meg had said.
“Mr. Warren,” Cruz said. “I’m Detective Cruz Montoya and I’m investigating a series of incidents that have occurred at or near the BJM Hotel.” He didn’t want to show too much of his hand too soon.
The man shifted his weight from foot to foot. He seemed nervous. Given that he’d recently done time, Cruz realized that just having a cop want to chat might be enough to raise the blood pressure.
“I haven’t worked at the hotel for months,” he said.
“I know that. Where were you last night around nine?”
“Home.”
“Anybody there with you?”
The man shook his head. “I live alone,” he said.
“What about yesterday morning?”
“I was here, working.”
“Anybody verify that?” Cruz asked.
The man pointed to a woman wearing blue jeans and a gray T-shirt. “Tracy runs the place. She was here, too.”
He was working for a woman. Maybe he wasn’t too bent out of shape.
It took Tracy less than five minutes to verify that Oscar had indeed been working the previous day. She showed Cruz a handwritten time sheet. “I got