Ginny Page 2

  “You’re the boss,” he said.

  “Don’t be smart,” she said, dabbing her face with a napkin.

  “Ginny—a word of advice: don’t get mixed up with Epstein.”

  “I’ll think about that.”

  “Good.”

  “Mrs. Dodge, as you can see from these photos,” Ginny said, spreading the computer printouts on the kitchen table in front of her middle-aged client, “Your husband entered the house at 10:43 p.m. and didn’t leave till midnight.”

  “What does that tell me?” Mrs. Dodge asked.

  “I did a computer search on the occupants, Dr. Anna Peroni, Ph.D., and Dr. Robert Sanchez, Ph.D., family therapists.”

  “He’s seeing therapists. But what about this picture, my husband with the man in a towel?” Mrs. Dodge asked.

  “I could spend another day on this, but you’ll have to come up with an additional six hundred dollars,” Ginny said.

  Mrs. Dodge sighed. “I’m not made of money.”

  “You could confront them yourself.”

  “How about three hundred?”

  “You’ve already beaten me down from twelve, and now you’re trying again?” Ginny asked.

  “Please …” Mrs. Dodge asked.

  “Their Web site address is in my report. You can check them out, it’s much cheaper.” Ginny said, as her cell phone rang.

  “You can take that,” Mrs. Dodge said.

  “Hello, Ginny Graves.”

  “Ginny? Harry Epstein. Can we talk?”

  “I’m with a client. I’ll call you in a few minutes, OK?” Ginny said and hung up.

  “Busy, aren’t you?” Mrs. Dodge asked.

  “Yes. Now, will that be all?”

  “I want you to check out the therapists, but I don’t have the three hundred now,” Mrs. Dodge said.

  Ginny gave her a polite smile. “Six hundred or it’s a no-go.”

  Ginny returned to her car and made the call.

  “Mr. Epstein, it’s me, Ginny Graves, at your service,” Ginny said into her cell phone.

  “Reid gave me nothing.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Come to the deli, I’ll treat you to lunch,” Epstein said. “We’ll talk.”

  At the deli, Epstein offered his hand. She took it and said, “Hello.”

  He led her to a table, and they took seats.

  “What would you like?” Epstein asked, offering her a menu.

  “Surprise me,” Ginny replied.

  Harry Epstein snapped his fingers and called to a nearby waiter, “Two luncheon specials.”

  “You need my services?” Ginny asked.

  “Yes, I have a job for you, but first we’ll eat lunch, OK?”

  “Sure.”

  They made small talk during the meal and after they finished, he asked, “You like?”

  “The Corned beef sandwich was tasty. Now, down to business,” Ginny said.

  “Let’s retire to my office,” Epstein said.

  “I’d like to start with a brief explanation of our business practices.”

  “No need for that, Mr. Epstein.”

  “Fine, there is a leak in my organization and, you know as well as I, that leaks can cause trouble. Benny, God rest his soul, was with me for twenty years, so I don’t think he’d be the source of the trouble. He would lay down his life for me and he did, as you know.

  “That leaves two suspects, his cousin, Fritz Freeland, and the intermediary, John Wong, both of whom were hanging by their feet in the meat locker when you were here earlier. You could say they were cooling their heels, he, he, he,” Epstein giggled.

  “So?” Ginny said.

  “Fritz said he was sick, and begged off at the last minute on accompanying Benny on the pickup. John, who should have escorted Benny and the case to the car, said he did not want to get wet, with all the rain and everything—the candy-ass weasel.”

  “They didn’t give you any help, I guess?”

  “No. It’s a good thing for them that you showed up with the case. We were about to take a more drastic approach. Does a rubber hose come to mind? Anyway, here is what you can do for me. There’s a vet out in the Valley that patches up wayward gunshot victims for a substantial fee. Name is Shultz … Schlitz … or something like that. Has an office on Tampa or Reseda. I think he’s our man. I want you to find out if he pulled a twenty-two bullet out of someone this morning.”

  She asked, “Veterinarian?”

  “Yes.”

  “May I use your computer?” Ginny asked.

  “Be my guest.”

  Ginny moved around his desk, as Epstein pushed his chair to the side. She leaned over and tapped the keyboard, saying, “This should only take a minute.”

  “You’re a computer whiz?” Epstein asked.

  “OK, here’s his Web site, Herman L. Schlitz, D.V.M. His office is on Reseda Boulevard in Tarzana. He has a full service, including surgery, boarding, et cetera. I’ll call him,” Ginny said, flipping her cell phone open, as the computer printout dropped into its tray.

  “Hold it,” Epstein said, sliding a desk drawer open and producing a cell phone. “Use this; I don’t want anything traced back to you.”

  Ginny punched in the number and waited. “Hello, is Dr. Schlitz in?”

  “Good girl,” the smiling Epstein whispered.

  “Veterinary office,” a girl answered.

  “Dr. Schlitz’s please,” Ginny asked.

  “I’ll connect you.”

  Ginny waited a moment and when the doctor came on the line, she said, “Dr. Schlitz, I’m Pricilla Parker. Do you board animals?”

  She listened, and then said, winking to Epstein, “I’ll be out this afternoon, around three.”

  “Ha, Priscilla Parker—sounds like a movie star’s name. I like the way you work.” Epstein grinned. “Now let’s discuss your fee.”

  “Twelve hundred a day,” Ginny said, “In advance.”

  “Something tells me we’re going to be in a long relationship,” he said, pulling a roll of hundred-dollar bills from his front pants pocket, peeling off twelve.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Shake,” he said and offered his hand, which she took.

  “You better get going, don’t want the good vet to wait,” Epstein said.

  “Yeah—I’m sorry about Benny. We were acquainted, you know,” Ginny said.

  “I know. You saved his ass one time a couple years ago in some bar, right?”

  “Yes, he was hustling two bozos in pool and they were about to bounce him off the wall,” she began.

  “He said you rammed a cue stick down one guy’s throat. You’re one tough broad.”

  “Kick butt first, ask questions later,” she said.

  “Benny, gonna miss him, shot a mean stick, I tell ya,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Going to have a service for him?”

  “I’ll take care of that. You find out who stabbed him to death.”

  “I’m on it,” she said.

  “Take the cell. Call me if you need me,” Epstein said. “Don’t discuss Benny or anything else about our little arrangement, especially with Reid. If he’s still with the department, the less he knows, the better.”

  Ginny nodded in agreement.

  Ginny raced up the Cahuenga Pass on the 101 when her cell buzzed. “Ginny.”

  “It’s me, Honey,” Reid said.

  “I’m busy, I’ll call you later, and don’t call me Honey.”

  “It can’t wait. Isabelle knows about last night,” he said.

  “Knows what?”

  “That we spent the night together,” he said. “She checked my phone when I was in the shower. Put two and two together and accused me of sleeping around again.”

  “Again?”

  “Hey, I’m no saint.”

  “I haven’t got time now, talk later,” she said and hung up.

&
nbsp; Her phone rang again. “Reid, for God’s sake.”

  “Don’t hang up, hear me out.”

  “I’m running late for an appointment, the 405 is jammed up, so I’m on the 101, heading for the Valley. Can’t this wait?” Ginny said.

  “What time is your appointment?”

  “Three.”

  “It’s only two, you have plenty of time,” Reid said.

  “We’ll talk when I get back.”

  “When will that be?” he asked.

  “I’ll call you.”

  “Ginny, this is serious. Isabelle gave me my walking papers,” he said.

  “OK, wait at my place. I’ll call the manager, she’ll let you in.”

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “No snooping,” she ordered. “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

  Ginny arrived early and parked behind the veterinarian’s office. She adjusted her shoulder holster, pulled on an oversized blue blazer and went in the back door. She proceeded down a long hallway, the sound of her clicking stilettos echoing through the silence. The corridor, illuminated by skylights, led to the entrance near the front of the building. There, a teenage assistant greeted Ginny. “Hello, may I help you?” the young girl asked.

  “I’m Pricilla Parker, I have a three o’clock appointment with Dr. Schlitz,” Ginny said.

  “You’re early.”

  “Is the doctor in?” Ginny asked.

  “He’s in surgery but should be finished soon.”

  “I’m looking for a nice place to board my Precious while I’m on vacation,” Ginny lied.

  “A dog or cat?”

  “My Precious is a member of the family. We prefer to call her one of our children,” Ginny said, batting her eyes.

  “How much does your child weigh?” the sarcastic girl asked.

  “Ten pounds. Now, maybe you could show me the kennels?”

  After the tour, Ginny waited in the office for several minutes.

  “Miss Parker, Dr. Schlitz will see you now,” the girl said. “This way please.”

  Ginny entered the office, finding Dr. Schlitz at his desk. He rose to greet her, “Hello. Miss Parker.” He leaned over the desk and held out his hand.

  Ginny reached to accept it. “Hello, doctor,” she said, guessing his height to be about six feet and glad that she wore spiked heels, making her appear taller.

  “Please, take a seat. How may I be of service to you?” he asked, sitting down.

  “You look tired, been a long night?” she asked, still standing, while looking the office over.

  “I’ve had better days,” he said.

  “I bet you have.”

  He rose and came around the desk. “We’re not here to discuss my health, young lady.”

  “I see many medical journals here on your desk,” she said, as he approached her.

  “You’re very inquisitive.”

  “Flunked medical school, doctor?”

  “What’s this all about?” the red-faced doctor asked, his deep blue eyes blazing.

  Ginny was eye-to-eye with him. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said, smiling.

  “Well, you have.”

  “Really?”

  “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave,” he steamed.

  Ginny turned, walked over to the office door, and locked it.

  “Now, what the hell are you doing?” he asked, as Ginny turned back to face him.

  She unbuttoned her jacket and pulled out her .22, pointing it at him.

  He stepped backward and asked, “What do you want?”

  “Hold your hands out in front, interlock your fingers and put ‘em behind you head.”

  “I don’t understand?”

  “Just do it,” she commanded.

  “We don’t have any money here,” he said, his voice trembling, as he obeyed her commands.

  “I don’t want money,” she said. “I want information.”

  “What information?” he said, as he backed up against the bookcase next to his desk.

  Ginny moved closer, “I want the name and whereabouts of the guy you cut some lead out of earlier.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said in an unconvincing manner.

  Ginny put the revolver up to his lips, “Open up.”

  He gagged as she pushed the barrel in against the roof of his mouth. “Your brains are going to be splattered, if you don’t tell me.”

  He coughed blood when she removed the gun. “They’ll kill me.”

  “Who’s they?”

  “The Armenian gang,” he said.

  “Do you want to die now?”

  “Please, I have a wife and kids,” he said, his teary eyes filled with fear.

  “Mr. Epstein, it’s me, Ginny,” she spoke into the cell phone, while sitting in her vehicle behind the veterinarian’s office.

  “What have you got, little lady?” Epstein asked.

  “The guy’s name is Peter Blagoian. A woman brought him to the Valley earlier today, and according to the doc it’s Blagoian who usually brings in an occasional shooting victim. He’s a member of an Armenian gang operating out of Glendale. He’s stashed in a house in Oxnard,” Ginny said.

  “Got a name for her?”

  “No. The doc said he’d never seen her before.”

  “That was fast.”

  “I don’t fool around,” Ginny said.

  “Got an address?”

  “All I have is an ocean-side beach house on Marina Way near Island View. It’s a three-story white monstrosity, the vet said you can’t miss it. I could be there before dark. Want me to check it out?”

  “Be careful,” Epstein cautioned.

  “I’ll whiz by and snap some photos, and e-mail them to you.”

  “Fine, then you can have the rest of the day off,” Epstein said.

  “Another thing—the house is owned by a pharmacist, has several stores in the Oxnard area. In the past he’s been known to help out the local gang members.”

  “Good.”

  “What’s going to happen to Blagoian?” Ginny asked.

  “We’re going to find out who sent him, then we’ll take care of …” Epstein did not finish.

  “Good luck with that.”

  “What’s his condition?” Epstein asked.

  “The doc said that he cut several pieces of lead out of Blagoian. The bullet fragmented when it hit him. He will be off his feet for about a week—is on antibiotics and pain meds. After I get the photos, I’ll head for home for some much-needed rest.”

  “Pleasant dreams—we’ll be in touch,” Epstein said.

  Ginny opened her apartment door to find Reid, sitting on the couch, watching television. “Reid, making yourself comfortable?”

  He smiled, put down his beer bottle, rose to greet her with open arms. “There’s my little Ginny.” He took her into his arms.

  They stood for a few seconds and then Ginny stepped back. “It’s been a long day. I have some computer work to do, then I’m hitting the sack.”

  “I’ll be joining you?” he asked, sounding hopeful.

  “Joining me, yes … as in … rubbing my back till I fall asleep. Understand?”

  His face fell. “Completely.”

  Ginny put her camera bag and purse down next to the computer, kicked off her shoes. She began to work on the computer, but she changed her mind, she was too tired. She headed for the bathroom, “I’ll only be a minute.” Reid aimed the remote control, pressed the off button, entered the bedroom, turned the bed covers down and waited.

  Moments later, Ginny walked into the bedroom. “It’s been over twenty-four hours without adequate rest, so I think I’ll call it a day,” she said, stripping out of her clothes, leaving them on the floor and flopping on the bed.

  Reid pulled the covers over her, but before he could try to massage her, she was out. He watched her for several minutes, got up to shut d
own all the lights and returned to the bedroom. He snuggled in next to her, draped his right arm over her hip, and joined her in sleep.

  Reid slipped out of bed at dawn, just as the sun appeared through the bedroom window. Being careful not to disturb the sleeping beauty, he pulled on his jeans, tiptoed into the living room and adjusted the heat to seventy, taking the chill out of the air in the cool apartment. Minutes later, Ginny strolled into the kitchen wrapped in a pale green, silk robe.

  Reid turned from his kitchen duties to face her. Their eyes met. “Good morning,” he said.

  “Hi.”

  “May I kiss you?” he asked.

  “You don’t have to ask.”

  “My nose still hurts,” he laughed, taking her hands and pulling her forward.

  She looked up at him, “Well?”

  “You have the most beautiful green eyes.”

  “Forget the eyes, give me a kiss,” she said standing on her toes.

  Their lips met. He held her for a moment, then said, “Now, sit down and I’ll serve you a nice gourmet breakfast.”

  She took a seat at the kitchen counter and said, “You’re spoiling me.”

  “Nothing is too good for you,” he said as he poured her a freshly brewed cup of coffee.

  “You know your way around the kitchen.”

  “True, now enjoy,” he said pushing a steaming bowl of oatmeal over to her.

  “Mmm, good,” she said, tasting it.

  “You like?”

  “Yes.”

  “After breakfast we’ll talk,” he said.

  She grinned at him. “You’re gonna make someone a good wife.”

  “Ha,” he said, “very funny.”

  After she completed the computer work, Ginny joined Reid on the living room couch. “So, you want to talk?” she asked.

  “Everything is moving so fast,” he said. “Love’s the only—”

  “Reid, I can’t love you,” she said and paused. “This is difficult.”

  “Why?”

  Ginny turned to face him, taking his hands. “I’ve had a sordid life … I killed a man,” she said through teary eyes.

  Reid frowned. “Ginny, tell me what you mean.”