Six Murders Too Many (Carlos McCraryPI, Book 1) by Dallas Gorham

Author:Dallas Gorham [Gorham, Dallas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ePublishing Works!

THIRTEEN

CSI found fingerprint. Call my mobile. Saunders.

Ted Saunders had sent the email from his Cleveland Fire Department email address late the previous day.

I found his number in my phone’s contact list. “Hey, Ted, what did they find?”

“Something weird. Our CSIs found one print from a left middle finger of a guy in the FBI data base. That print belongs to a convicted arsonist named Howard Hopper.”

“What’s weird about that?”

“The guy lives in Houston.”

That made no sense. Hiring someone from Cleveland, yes. From Port City, yes. Even from Mexico, yes. But Houston? “Houston, as in Texas?”

“Yeah.”

“Has this guy moved to Cleveland?”

“We got no record for him in Cleveland. The notes here say that the Houston cops told our cops that Hopper is on parole, and he checks in with his parole officer every week. At least his parole officer hasn’t put out an arrest warrant for him. He must still be there.”

“You got Hopper’s address?”

“Not in the notes. Our cops will send a detective down there in a couple of days.”

“Okay. What about his PO’s name?”

“Nah. But I got the name of the Houston cop our guys talked to. You want that?”

“Sure.”

“Sergeant Humberto Gonzales.” Saunders read me Gonzales’s phone number.

“Ted, I appreciate this. Thank Captain Crawford for me.”

“I hope this helps. We have done our part. It’s in the police department’s hands now.”

“I’ll follow it up and let you know if I find anything.”

Houston. Might be coincidence. Might be coincidence that streets get wet when it rains.

I pulled out the class directory from my tenth anniversary Theodore Roosevelt High School reunion. One classmate had worked for the Houston PD. I called the number.

“Officer Simpson, may I help you?”

“Bettina, this is Chuck McCrary. We graduated from Roosevelt High together.”

“I remember you, Chuck. We slow danced at the reunion last year. You’re a detective at the Port City PD. How are you?”

“I’m fine, Bettina. I’m flattered that you remember me.”

“Are you in town? I would love to see you again.”

“I’m in Port City. But I left the job eight months ago and hung out a shingle as a PI.”

“Gumshoe McCrary. You told me you intended to do that. How’s business?”

“Pretty good. I have a case that points to Houston, so I may come there.”

“When?”

“I need to make a couple of calls to see if the lead pans out. That’s where you come in.”

“How so?”

“Do you know a Houston cop named Sergeant Humberto Gonzales?”

“We have over 5,000 cops in the department. I don’t even know all the cops at my substation, and I have been here six years.”

I was disappointed, but not surprised. “It was a long shot, but it was good talking to you anyway.” I started to hang up.

“Not so fast, Chuck. Were you planning to see me when you come to Houston?”

I was glad we weren’t on a video call, so Bettina couldn’t see the deer-in-the-headlights look on my face. The truth was that I had not considered seeing Bettina again. I had no clue how to say that without sounding cold and rude.

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