Jacked Up! (A Lt. Jack Daniels/Leah Ryan Mystery) by Konrath J.A. & Sharp Tracy & Kilborn Jack

Author:Konrath, J.A. & Sharp, Tracy & Kilborn, Jack [Konrath, J.A.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: General Fiction
Published: 2013-09-24T04:00:00+00:00

JACK DANIELS

So Stanley Carey is the owner/president of Carey’s Luxury Cars,” Herb said, sucking at the bottom of his milkshake cup so that it made that sucky-slurpy sound that was like nails on a blackboard to me.

“The milkshake is finished, Herb.”

“I know. I’m just in denial.” He rested the empty cup between his large legs, since my 1988 Chevy Nova had no cup holder. His laptop was in the back seat, but laptop was probably a misnomer. Herb didn’t have a lap. Maybe he could call it a hilltop.

“His father started Carey’s Cars back in the sixties. Now he has four dealerships, and he has more money than he knows what to do with.”

“Lauren was driving a Bentley supposedly bought by Carey.” Herb said. “Did he know she was transgender? Maybe he found out, didn’t take it well, and killed her in a rage. Then took off.”

“Why leave her in the car he bought, in his own garage?”

“He didn’t think she’d be discovered.”

“Then why did he stop making payments on the car? And why did he buy a car from someone else when he and his parents own dealerships?”

We were in spitball mode, spouting ideas to see if any stuck. “He wanted to run for office. Maybe he feared negative reaction if anyone knew he had a transsexual mistress. So he bought it for her to keep it a secret. As a politician, his past would be poured over by journalists.”

But then again, those same journalists would probably dig so deep they’d find the loan, and Lauren, just the same. So why go that route?

Herb picked up his cup again and took another slurp.

“Seriously, Herb?”

“Gravity. All the ice cream clinging to the sides has slid down by now.”

“Wasn’t your fried meat lover’s salad enough?”

“It was delicious. You should have gotten one.”

“I’ve never seen a salad without any vegetables before.”

“They were in there. You didn’t see them because they were all battered and fried. Hey, wait a sec. I saw Lauren Madsen before. In a commercial.” He snapped his fingers. “Yeah. Remember? A Mercedes commercial. For Carey Luxury Cars. She was in a black pencil skirt, champagne lace blouse. Gorgeous.”

“Sitting in the Mercedes convertible, red hair blowing back.” I nodded. “Yeah. Champagne, huh?”

“You know. Kinda creamy-beige.”

“I know. Surprised that you know.” I said.

“I know more than you think I know. You know?”

“So was Carey trying to keep Lauren a secret, or not?”

“Not unless he was trying to hide her in plain sight.”

I shook my head, and asked the obvious question. “Why the hell didn’t anyone report Carey or Lauren missing?”

“You do remember we’re Homicide, right, Jack? This is a missing person case.”

“Yeah. But I have a feeling he won’t be missing for long.”

Herb sucked at the straw, long and hard, making a loud, wet sound that went right through me. I pulled my old Nova into a parking spot when a salesman came cheerfully walking toward the car. I had an insecure desire to lock the doors and roll up the windows and lay on the horn so he wouldn’t approach my vehicle and start his insulting spiel.

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