3 Savor Page 22

  Ernesto put a hand on Javier’s shoulder as though he sensed the kid was thinking about running. “Sí. We’re hungry and we have some things to speak with you about too, Miss Fredrickson.”

  Javier’s scowl was not as pronounced today, but he still didn’t look as though he wished to discuss anything with the woman who had thrown him out of his free digs and got him in trouble with Ernesto.

  They walked back together, Billie keeping up a constant patter of small talk to set them at ease, but it seemed to be having the opposite effect on all of them. When they trooped past Sally’s desk toward the conference room, her brows rose in surprise.

  “Has the pizza come yet?” Billie asked.

  Sally shook her head, craning her neck to see into the room where Javier and Ernesto were already seated at the table, waiting.

  “When it gets here, let me know. We’re having a vineyard management meeting,” she clarified, so Sally wouldn’t invite the rest of the employees to free lunch.

  She entered the conference room and shut the door. Ernesto was leaning over whispering something to Javier, but he straightened up immediately and pulled the cap from his head.

  She smiled. “No need for formality,” she said, sitting across the table from the two men. “I asked you here to discuss recent events at the winery.” She held Ernesto’s fearful gaze. “I owe you an apology. I’m truly sorry for accusing you of having anything whatsoever to do with the fire. I know you were only trying to help your cousin’s son. Family ties are important and we all need them.”

  He seemed embarrassed at her apology and tried to wave it off. “You were worried about the vines.”

  “I think you were more worried about the vines,” she said, “and I thank you.”

  She looked at Javier. He tried to avoid her gaze by staring hard at something just above her left shoulder. “I do hold you accountable, though. Ernesto offered you help and you turned around and tried to destroy the respect he’s built with us here.”

  “I never did anything to hurt Ernesto,” he spit out, glaring daggers at her now. “I wanted to be left alone, to start a new life, but they wouldn’t let me.”

  Ernesto intervened, twisting his sweat-stained cap in his hands. “The gang is blackmailing Javier to do these things. He is a good boy. He didn’t want to hurt anyone,” he said, his gaze pleading.

  Why would the gang blackmail him? That made no sense. If the gang didn’t want him to leave, they would force him back or kill him. Adam’s theory seemed closer to the truth. She looked at Javier. He sat stoically, arms crossed, staring at the tabletop. “What’s your last name?” she asked.

  He seemed surprised by her question but just smirked.

  “Javier Tabares Hernandez,” Ernesto said, filling the silence.

  She knew that the first surname would be from the father and the second from the mother, so he could very well be the JT in Salvatore’s text messages. “Why don’t you tell us both the truth this time, JT.”

  Ernesto looked confused. “Javier? You lied to me?”

  He looked up at her. “I didn’t want to do any of it. He said to scare you. Make you think someone wanted you dead. If I didn’t do it he would let the Maras know where I was and tell them I was double-crossing them with Las Boyz. That is a death sentence in my world.”

  “I don’t want to get you killed,” she said. “I only want the truth. Did Edoardo Salvatore pay you to do these things?”

  The confusion in his face should have been answer enough but he shook his head. “Who?”

  •••••

  When Ernesto and Javier left the conference room, Billie sat back in her chair and shook her head. She had hoped to get proof against Edoardo Salvatore that would keep him away from Margaret and Davy permanently, but instead she’d just solved Handel’s murder case.

  She slipped her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed.

  “Hey, babe. What’s up?” Handel asked. He sounded distracted.

  “Remember how you said you believe in gut feelings?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I talked to Javier and my gut feeling is that the same person who hired him to shoot at me and burn my shed, also killed Jimena.”

  “He gave you a name?”

  “And much more.”

  •••••

  Billie was relieved when she looked up from replanting the flowerbeds outside the winery and saw her BMW pull up to the house and stop outside the garage. She stood and dusted her hands on the legs of her navy shorts. Sabrina stepped out of the car looking just as vibrant and put-together as she always did. She wore a pretty new blue and white sundress that Billie didn’t recognize.

  She waved. “Hey, Mom!”

  Sabrina turned her way and smiled. “Hey yourself,” she said.

  Billie hurried over and gave her a hug. “How many times do I have to tell you not to get into a private jet with a perfect stranger?”

  Her mother hugged back a little tighter than usual before releasing her. “Once is all it takes for this old girl,” she said, swinging her purse to her shoulder. “Although I have to say, the reclining seats were heavenly.”

  They went inside and Sabrina gave Handel and Billie a recap of her Honolulu adventure, ending with a heartfelt apology to Billie for not trusting her opinion. “Admittedly, I was hearing his accent more than his actual words,” she said, with a slight flush of embarrassment. She crossed her legs and leaned her head back on the couch.

  “Did he take it out on you on the flight home?” Billie asked, fearful her mother may have paid a little too dearly for the truth.

  Sabrina stifled a yawn and shook her head. “He was too busy drinking all the liquor on board. Once we took off he was ensconced in his private sleeping quarters with the flight attendant to serve him… whatever,” she said with a flutter of French manicured nails.

  “That must have been awful,” Billie commiserated.

  “Actually, it was bliss. I was able to travel in style and didn’t have to continually think up new ways to keep him at bay.”

  Handel chuckled. “Sabrina, you never cease to amaze me. If it wasn’t for your finding those texts Margaret could have been in a serious accident.”

  “I guess God was looking out for us this round,” Billie said.

  “Honey, God is always looking out for us. Sometimes we just have our eyes shut so tight we don’t see it.”

  “One bad guy down, another to go,” Handel got up from his easy chair, bent to kiss Sabrina’s cheek, then pulled Billie to her feet and kissed her firmly on the lips. “Wish me luck,” he said, moving toward his office. “Tomorrow’s the big day. Court is in session and the Honorable Veronica Matthews is expecting wonderful things from me after this long continuance.”

  “We’re all expecting wonderful things, Handy!” Billie called after him.

  Sabrina stretched out on the couch and sighed. “I’m so glad I picked that man for you. He’s as perfect as a sunny day in May.”

  Billie just smiled.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Handel got off the phone with Frank and leaned back in his desk chair, hands laced behind his head. Lucky for him his new friend had a nephew who was a detective in the Mission district. The police had been close mouthed with him about the evidence they’d found in Hosea’s house, not allowing him access to any information that might help him in his own case. They kept saying it was an ongoing investigation, blah, blah, blah. He knew the spiel. He’d used similar tactics in his own office. Sometimes it took a brother in blue to oil the wheels.

  His phone rang again. He picked up. “Hey, Manny. What do you have for me?”

  “I heard Hosea Garcia was shot,” he said, shock softening his voice.

  “Yeah, I heard.” He waited.

  “I never told you, but my sister was planning to run away with him before she was killed. I talked her out of it of course. That would be crazy, right? To run off with a drug addict when you have a perfect life already. Sometimes I think she wa
s uncomfortable being rich. We grew up with so little and then she meets this man who never runs out of roses.”

  Handel thought that was a strange way to describe her marriage to Sloane. But maybe that’s what Jimena told him. He didn’t say anything, waiting for Manny to finish.

  “I don’t know how Jimena hooked up with him. She hadn’t seen him since we were kids. I kept her away from that life. Sheltered her and Momma.” He sounded angry at the circumstances and Handel didn’t blame him. A man was born to protect his family.

  “You can’t stop people from making unwise decisions. You can only be there for them when they fall,” Handel said, staring at the row of books on his shelf. He got up and straightened them as he talked. “Maybe your sister was trying to be there for Hosea but it turned out all wrong.”

  “Yeah, you could be right. He was a dangerous man. He could have lost it when she told him it was over.” He sniffed loudly. “I should have been there to stop him.”

  It wasn’t exactly what Handel meant, but Manny had taken the conversation to an interesting place. Only two people knew what really happened that night and Hosea wasn’t talking.

  “Maybe it wasn’t Hosea,” Handel said. “What if Kawasaki did kill your sister because he found out about the affair?”

  His response was sharp and immediate. “I know Sloane. He would never hurt my sister, no matter what. Did Hosea tell you that?”

  “No, I was just speculating. You’re her brother. Don’t you want the truth to come out, no matter who is responsible? Your sister deserves justice, doesn’t she?” He narrowed his eyes, squinting down the line of books to see if the spines were all evenly lined up.

  “I thought you were defending Sloane because you believed him. What’s changed your mind?”

  “Hosea called me again before he was shot.”

  No response. Just traffic noise in the background. Where was Manny going?

  “He said he had something for me. Some piece of evidence that would point directly to the killer,” he lied. “I was going to pick it up, but the police locked the crime scene down and now I can’t get to it.”

  “In his house?”

  “Outside in an old van. It looked like a junker. I doubt it even runs. He said he put it in the glove box so I could retrieve it after he left town.”

  “He was probably lying,” Manny said. “Just pulling your chain.”

  “Yeah, well I guess we may never know. The police are assuming this was a gang hit. By the time I get them to issue a warrant to look there, who knows what will happen. Someone will probably have it towed away.”

  Thumping music filled the background for a couple seconds. “I better go. Traffic’s really bad. Don’t want to get in an accident like you, huh?”

  “I don’t blame you. Drive safe now.”

  A car horn blared. “See you in court.”

  Handel set his phone down and pushed his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “Truth, justice, and the American way,” he said and felt a little bit like Superman.

  •••••

  An hour later, the police picked Manny up going through the van. He told them he was working for Handel. They took him downtown and put him in a cell while they served warrants on his apartment, office, and vehicle. Tucked away in his office safe, they found over fifty thousand dollars, his mother’s rosary beads and a lock of hair covered in dried blood kept safely contained in a Ziploc bag. He obviously had guilt issues.

  Frank called Handel to report the news. His nephew had been one of the detectives on the case and after getting credit for solving two murders, was feeling overly generous at the moment. He told Frank to give Handel the news and a big kiss. Frank chose to call instead of coming in person.

  “So when they presented him with the evidence they had on him for Garcia’s murder, he fell apart and confessed to his sister’s as well.”

  “No kidding,” Handel said, shaking his head. It was more than he’d hoped for. As soon as the courthouse opened in the morning he would be filing papers for a dismissal in the case against Sloane Kawasaki. That ought to give the media something to talk about for a while. “What evidence did they have? Do you know?”

  Frank hesitated. “Well, I really shouldn’t say, but since I know you’ll keep it under your hat… Your friend Hosea Garcia was more than a little paranoid. He taped all of his phone calls and hid them under a floorboard in his bedroom. When the forensics team found that, they found the mother lode. Seems the police may be able to close a few other cases thanks to Mr. Garcia.”

  Handel laughed. “That’s awesome,” he said. Curiosity made him ask, “Did Manny say why he killed his sister?” He was still trying to get his head around that. Guilt-ridden, Manny had left the gang after his mother died and worked to get his sister through community college. He felt responsible for Jimena even after she was married to Sloane. Why would he turn on the one person he cared about most?

  Frank cleared his throat. “Remember that hypothetical phone tape you were talking about?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, Mr. Alvarez happened to mention something about aqua. Seems he couldn’t stay completely out of the game. He was using one of Salvatore’s warehouses down near the dock for a meth factory. They were cranking that stuff out faster than you can say holy crap. Problem was, he wasn’t letting the Maras in on the deal.”

  “He was working with the enemy?”

  “Yep, Las Boyz.” Frank gave a short laugh. “It all would’ve worked out fine too except for our Mr. Garcia’s paranoid tendencies. He followed Manny one night and decided to get in on the action. He was blackmailing your very upstanding private eye.”

  Handel ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “That’s what he meant when he said he just wanted the money so he could take Jimena to Mexico.”

  “Seems about right. But when he came to the house to pick her up, Manny was there too. They got in a big argument and Garcia decided to spill the beans. He told Jimena that her brother was a drug dealer and she went berserk. Manny said she started screaming and throwing things at him until he couldn’t take anymore. He hit her to shut her up, but she fell against the corner of the glass coffee table and split her head open.”

  Handel grimaced at the thought. He’d seen the crime photos. It wasn’t pretty.

  Frank continued. “When he realized she was dead he went a little berserk too. He knocked Garcia out with one punch. Then overcome with grief, he cut a chunk of her hair and took it with him. For remembrance or some shit. What a nutball,” he said, with caustic humor.

  “He left Garcia to take the fall,” Handel said, thinking out loud, “but Garcia didn’t stay unconscious long enough for the police to get there.”

  “So it seems. And Manny didn’t know about the earlier domestic disturbance call his sister made two days prior because she didn’t tell him that her husband was abusive. So instead of Garcia taking the blame, Kawasaki became the number one suspect.”

  Handel pulled the blinds open on the window and looked out into the dark vineyards beyond. He knew all about protecting loved ones from unsavory secrets. It was hard to believe that he’d been defending a man with the same violent tendencies he abhorred. Sure, he had been defending him against false murder charges, but it still felt wrong that the man had an advocate and Jimena Kawasaki-Alvarez was in an early grave.

  He heard the door open softly and he turned to see Billie coming in with a cup of coffee. She smiled and set it on the desk for him. He put up a finger for her to wait. “Thanks for letting me know. I really appreciate it. Tell your nephew I owe him one,” he said.

  “You owe me a double Espresso Macchiato and a plate of those caramel rolls your friend Charley makes.”

  “Will do. Let me know when you’re hungry,” he said and put the phone down.

  “Was that Frank?” she asked, leaning on the corner of the desk.

  He nodded and gave her a crooked grin. “Guess what? We may be able to get away for that vacation a lot soo
ner than expected.”

  Her face lit up and she threw her arms around him. “That’s wonderful. I can’t wait to see you in that bikini,” she murmured against his ear.

  •••••

  They had a family picnic the following Saturday evening to celebrate Handel’s closed case and to give Sabrina a fond farewell since she was flying home on Monday. Two picnic tables were lined up out under the oak trees, covered in checkered cloths that fluttered lightly in the breeze. Billie had made potato salad because she said the West coast folks just didn’t know how to make proper salads. Margaret and Davy brought sliced watermelon, chips, and a bottle of her special wine. Sabrina upstaged them all with homemade chocolate raspberry cheesecake that looked to die for.

  “Where’s Adam?” Billie asked when Margaret and Davy showed up without him. “I thought he was picking you up.”

  Margaret sighed and set the watermelon on the table. “He called a while ago and said he might be late.”

  “Well, we’re not waiting for him.” She nodded toward Handel already busy working his magic at the grill. “The steaks will be ruined if he doesn’t get here soon.”

  Sabrina held out a gift bag and Davy’s face lit up. “Cool! My jersey.” He yanked the shirt out along with crinkly tissue paper. “Look Mom,” he said, holding it up to his chest, “now I can play hockey!”

  “Not on your life,” she said, hands on her hips. “I’m not going to have a toothless son.”

  “They got mouth guards, ya know,” he informed her as though she were completely clueless.

  She sat down at the table across from Billie. “Boys. Can’t live with’em, can’t live without’em.”

  Billie pushed a plate of raw vegetables and dip toward her. “Want some?”

  “I thought you didn’t like carrots and celery,” Margaret said, giving her a strange look.

  “I’m trying to eat healthier.” Billie eyed her mom’s cheesecake. “At least for now.”

  Sabrina had already opened the wine. She poured Margaret and Billie each a glass and held them out, but Billie shook her head. “None for me, thanks. I’ll just have water.”