The White Angel Murder by Victor Methos

Author:Victor Methos [Methos, Victor]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 2940011401985
Published: 2011-06-04T14:00:00+00:00

36

It was dark when Stanton pulled out of the Wal-Mart parking lot. He didn’t like driving during the day. There was no doubt that a BOLO call went out for him with his make and model. He thought about trading his car in. There were a few places he knew that would take his car, no questions asked, and replace it with another one. Granted, one of less value and reliability.

He drove down the boulevard and watched the moon reflect off the choppy water of the Pacific. A yacht was out past the pier, slowly drifting with the waves, and he wished he were on that yacht right now. Enjoying the ocean breeze.

It was nearly two hours and forty-five minutes of driving before he came to a stop in front of the Boca Del Ray apartments. Two young Hispanic males were on the porch again though they were different from any of the ones he’d seen. He walked over to them and they stared and sucked on spliffs loaded with weed and tobacco.

Stanton held up his badge and brushed past them without saying anything. His heart was racing as they entered the code and opened the door. He stepped inside and as the door shut behind him he heard one of them say, “One less pig you gotta worry about.”

The building was quiet tonight and a thick odor of marijuana hung in the air. Stanton remembered it was the first of the month. Welfare checks were distributed today. Many were cashed at all night check cashing businesses and the money was promptly spent on drugs and liquor. It would last six or seven days and then they would be scraping by the rest of the month until the next distribution.

He walked to Francisco’s apartment. Police tape covered the door and someone had tagged gang signs over it in black and red spray-paint. He took out his keychain and the Swiss Army knife attached to it and slit the tape along the edge of the door. A pad lock was on but the wood was so weak he just put his shoulder to it and gave it one good push and it cracked open.

The room was hot and stale from a lack of circulation. A dark black stain stuck out of the carpet where Francisco’s body had been found. Like a wound that won’t quite heal. Dirty footprints were over the kitchen linoleum and all the furniture had been taken from the apartment; probably by people in the building who had heard that somebody had passed away.

Stanton walked to the kitchen faucet and ran the cold water. He put his hand underneath and felt the bubbles on his palm before taking a long drink. He turned the water off and walked into the living room. He peered through the blinds outside and didn’t see anyone. It wasn’t a good view; just cars and a large withered tree that stuck out of the ground in front of the building like a massive weed.

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