Murder, Money and Mayhem (A Luca Mystery Book 16) by Dan Petrosini

Author:Dan Petrosini [Petrosini, Dan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781960286222
Published: 2023-03-20T16:00:00+00:00

33

I called the number Gesso gave me. On the fourth ring, a male voice answered, "Hello."

"Mr. Curan?"

"Yes."

"This is Detective Luca of the Collier County Sheriff's Department. You called the hotline regarding a person of interest."

"Yes. I saw it at my sister's house. I was there for my nephew's fifteenth birthday party. I can't believe he's that old—"

"And where did you see this man? At the park?"

"No, no. When I saw the public service announcement, I didn't think anything about it. But, when I got home, my newspaper from yesterday was in the mailbox. I was going to throw it away, but for some reason I didn't. I took it inside and—"

"About the man we're looking for. What can you tell me?"

"He's dead, that's what."

I stiffened. "Excuse me? How do you know this?"

"There was a bad accident on Alligator Alley, and he was killed in it."

I pumped my fist. "Are you sure it was him?"

"Yeah, they had a picture of him in the paper. When I saw it, I couldn't figure out who he was, but then it hit me, the funny scar he had matched the one on TV."

"What paper was this?"

"The Miami Herald. I know it's crazy that I still get it delivered, but I live downtown, and there's so much new stuff going on, and I like to stay in touch."

He probably had an AOL email account like me. "I get it. Thanks, if we have any further questions, we'll be in touch."

Hanging up, I tapped the Miami Herald newspaper into the search bar. I backtracked to the previous day's edition and paged through, stopping when I saw a headline on page eight: "Miami Gardens Man Dies in Car Crash."

My gaze settled on a smiling face with a scar shaped in the number nine. The caption read "Emilio Chavez, 48, had emigrated to the United States from Venezuela."

Scanning the article, my heart raced. Chavez was a retired major in the Venezuelan Army. My thoughts ricocheted, realizing he'd spent his career in the military. But that didn't mean he wasn't connected to a cartel.

Venezuela was run by a dictator the United States believed was involved in the drug trade. But Cabrerra was Colombian. What was the connection?

I ran Chavez through the system, relaxing my shoulders as nothing populated the screen. It was rare for anyone dealing in illegal narcotics not to have a record.

But how recently had he come to America? The national database had Chavez being granted entrance as a refugee in 2015. Two years earlier, Maduro had taken power, destroying Venezuelan democracy.

It wasn't foolproof, but the State Department had determined Chavez's life was in danger if he stayed in Venezuela.

I sat back as relief washed over me. The cartel wasn't chasing us. Hindsight was something else. With the confirmation it wasn't Cabrerra's former drug partners, it became clear there was no reason to have thought they were.

An accent, a surprise encounter, and an enormous amount of money had made me believe the worst. My shoulders stiffened. How

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