Snitch

Chapter 5

5

Rios sat at her desk examining the overdose victim’s purse and phone. A single c***k traversed the phone’s screen. It was also out of juice.

She opened her bottom desk drawer and sorted through a tangle of cords until she found a charger that fit the phone and plugged it in. With a little luck, it would lead her to the victim’s identity and, more important, to whoever sold the drugs that killed her.

Detective Johnson, who shared a cubicle with Rios, walked into the Violent Crimes Division and set an evidence bag on Rios’ desk containing a black Louis Vuitton wallet. “Good news. We caught a woman using your Jane Doe’s credit card.”

“Who had it?”

“A woman named Tracy Phillips. A clerk at a convenience store asked for ID when she tried to buy a case of beer. Phillips panicked and tried to run with the beer. A uniformed deputy happened to be in there and nabbed her. She’s down in interview two.”

“Who’s our Jane Doe?”

“Genette Abrams.”

“How did Phillips get the wallet?”

“Claims she walking down the street when she spotted Ms. Abrams’ body in the alley around two in the morning.”

“Walking down the street an hour after the bars closed? This Phillips woman have any priors?”

“A few. Solicitation, shoplifting, and possession—m*******a, less than an ounce. You want to interview her?”

“Yeah. Maybe she knows who’s dealing hex at the clubs.” As Rios stood up, a blue battery icon appeared on the cracked phone screen. “Thank goodness for small miracles.”

Rios entered the interview room carrying her case folder. At the far side of the table, a woman wearing a lot of makeup and a low-cut tank top leaned back in a chair with her arms crossed. Her flowery perfume hit Rios like a cloud of kerosene vapor.

A man in a chocolate-brown suit sat next to the woman. His hands rested on a black leather binder in front of him.

“Tracy Phillips?” Rios sat opposite the woman.

“Yeah.”

The brown-suited man extended his hand. “And I’m Richard Velasquez, Ms. Phillips’ attorney.” The droop of his right eyelid became more prominent as he spoke.

Rios shook his offered hand. “I’m Detective Rios with the Violent Crimes Division. I’m investigating the death of Genette Abrams.” She pulled out a photo of Abrams’ body and slid it over to Velasquez and his client. Ms. Phillips stared at the far wall without a glance at the photo.

“My client had nothing to do with this woman’s death.”

“The victim’s wallet was found in Ms. Phillips’ possession after she attempted to use Ms. Abrams’ credit cards to purchase beer.”

“That junkie b***h was dead when I found the wallet,” said Phillips. “Ain’t like she was gonna need it no more.”

Velasquez tried to hush her. “Detective Rios, based on what my client has told me, the victim died of some kind of poisoning. Is that correct?”

“We are still investigating cause of death. Why?”

“My client witnessed the deceased buying drugs that quite possibly killed her. What would that be worth to you?”

“If your client can ID the dealer, I can talk to the DA about a reduced sentence on the credit card fraud, theft, and shoplifting charges.”

Velasquez consulted with his client in whispers, then sat up again. “My client is willing to share what she knows in exchange for immunity from all charges.”

“Immunity? Your client has a record. Her information better be rock solid. Otherwise, she’s facing at least six months in jail, plus an additional year of probation.”

Velasquez nodded to Phillips.

“Fine,” said Phillips, rolling her eyes. “Last night I saw some chick at HausMusik dealing something in the ladies’ room.”

Rios perked up. “Some chick dealing something? You’re going to have to do better than that. What’d this chick look like?”

“White and kinda skinny.”

“Could you be more specific? Any distinguishing features? Hair color? Age? Clothing?”

“Didn’t pay that much attention to her, to be quite honest. Brown hair, maybe. Or was it blond? I don’t know.” Phillips picked at a scab on her arm. “She wore a leather vest with some patches on it; that I do remember.”

“What did the patches look like?”

“The patches on top and bottom had pink lettering and curved around a big one in the middle that looked like an owl.”

Rios recalled seeing a patch like that, but couldn’t place it. “What did the ones with the lettering say?”

“The one on bottom just said Arizona. There was a little one in the middle that just had the letters MC. Top one said something Sisterhood.”

A lightbulb went on in Rios’ mind. “Athena Sisterhood?”

“Yeah, that sounds right.”

“What else?”

“I don’t know what else.” Phillips shrugged. “Like I said, I didn’t hardly notice her. I was just in there to pee.”

“And you saw this woman in the biker vest sell drugs to the deceased?”

“Yeah. It was the dead chick. I remember I liked her lacy green top.”

“And her designer wallet, apparently.” Rios looked at Velasquez and crossed her arms. “Hardly the rock-sold information I was looking for.”

“Come on, Detective. She told you what she knows.”

“What she knows will not get me a conviction.”

“No, but it’s a lead. You know it’s one of those biker chicks selling the dope. Now how about that deal?”

“I’ll leave that up to the folks in the Property Crimes Division.” Rios stood up with her case folder and left.

After giving the detective in Property Crimes an update, she returned to the Violent Crimes Division. Lieutenant Dennis Goodman, a man with thinning white hair, intercepted her on her way to her desk.

Permanent creases extended down from the corners of his frown, giving him the look of a ventriloquist doll. “Detective, I’d like to see you in my office.” He beckoned with his finger. Rios followed him into his office. Goodman closed the door.

Rios took a seat. Her pulse quickened. “What’s up, Lieutenant?”

“You missed roll call this morning. I want to know where you are with the two strychnine poisoning cases. The media’s crawling up my a*s claiming someone’s poisoning college coeds.”

“It’s three now.”

“Three? Jesus Christ on a cracker!”

“As of this morning. But I think we’ve caught a break,” explained Rios. “A witness claims she saw the latest victim buying drugs at the Trip Hop Lounge. Didn’t get a very detailed description, but the dealer was wearing an Athena Sisterhood biker vest.”

Goodman let out a harsh breath. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Why’s that, sir?”

“These women are fanatics, attacking anyone perceived to be sexist. Property Crimes Division is liking them for a couple of fire bombings at sites where they’ve held protest rallies.”

“I heard about the one at that strip club a few weeks ago.”

“And before that it was Senator Braeburn’s office. He’s a family man, for God’s sake. And that church run by that Reverend What’s-His-Name.”

“Reverend Phillips.” Rios was all too familiar with the preacher and his “kill the gays” rants. She wasn’t sorry to see his church burned to the ground. “Has anyone in the Athena Sisterhood been charged with any of these arson cases?”

“Not yet. But now that they’re killing people with rat poison, it’s in my wheelhouse.” He leaned over the desk, his face dark and brooding. “I want them shut down, Detective.”

“I have an informant who can probably get inside.”

“Make that happen. You close these cases, you’ll be that much closer to making sergeant.”

“Yes, sir.”

Goodman leaned back. “Dismissed.”

“What was that about?” asked Johnson as Rios returned to her desk.

“Goodman wants this new women’s motorcycle club shut down, especially now that it looks like they’re connected to these strychnine deaths.” Rios retrieved the victim’s wallet from the evidence bag. “According to her ID, latest victim’s name is Genette Abrams, twenty-two. Lives at 2416 North Shadow Hills Road, unit D-209.”

“That’s in the Desert Vistas condominium complex,” said Johnson. “Six-figure luxury lofts. I’m surprised they’d let a druggie live there.”

“Drugs don’t care who you are.” Rios flipped through some of the cards in the wallet. “Besides, she has a university ID. Insurance card for a 2015 Mercedes C320. I’m guessing her wealthy parents were bankrolling her.”

“So, what’s our next move?”

“Check with the university’s Admissions Department. See if you can get the contact info for her family. I’ll get a search warrant for her condo. I’m also going to set up a meeting with one of my confidential informants. If we can get her inside the Athena Sisterhood, maybe we can locate our dealer.”