law?”
Dooley frowned. Shauna knew what he didn’t want to say, but she let her grandfather tell it in his own way. “Mack’s been with me for nine years,” he said. “He had a rough time at first. Served in the Army, Desert Storm, honorable discharge. He didn’t want to come back home—but couldn’t go back because of shrapnel in his leg. He tried a lot of jobs. When he came to me, he was in debt. Gambling. Legal gambling, as far as I know—lost his house, his car, his family. All in Reno. Moved here for a fresh start. I don’t think he was gambling anymore, but sometimes—sometimes I suspected he was going over the mountain, to Reno, to play cards. But he didn’t seem to have worries, never asked for more money. I never saw any discrepancies in the books. He wasn’t stealing from me.”
“I concur,” Shauna said. “I would have noticed.” After learning how Jason Butler had bilked investors, she’d been doubly careful with all the accounting records she kept, for both her father and her grandfather.
“Did he ever have more money than he should have had?”
“You saw his apartment, right? He’s been there for nine years. Rent’s not expensive. I think he spent more for his television than all his furniture combined.” Dooley smiled sadly at the memories. “He loved his sports. Has a car, nothing special.”
“His bank statements are in line with his salary and lifestyle,” Black said. He didn’t have to tell them that, and Shauna appreciated that he was including them in the investigation.
“There’s one thing,” Dooley said, hesitation in his voice.
He didn’t say anything at first. Shauna prompted, “Da, what is it? You have to tell us.”
“I called his daughter Missy. She still lives in Reno. He wasn’t on good terms with her or his ex. He’s been sending her money when he can—she’s a single mom. She said she already knew, that a Sacramento detective had talked to her about his murder.”
Black tensed. “When?”
“I talked to her yesterday morning. Tuesday. I meant to call her Monday, but—” His voice trailed off.
“Did she say anything else?”
“No.”
“Do you have her contact information?”
“I’ll get it.” Dooley shuffled toward his office in the storeroom.
Shauna said quietly, “That wasn’t a detective who spoke to her, was it?”
Black shook his head. “I didn’t send anyone to Reno. I would have contacted the local police department if I needed something from her.” He stood and said, “Tell Dooley I’ll take a rain check on the Guinness. I have some calls to make. Can you send me the daughter’s contact information?”
“Of course,” Shauna said. “And you’re welcome anytime, Detective.”
He smiled. “Glad to be on your good side again, Ms. Murphy.”
She didn’t know if he was serious or not.
Chapter Twelve
Sam called John, filled him in on what he’d learned at Coresco & Hunt Law Offices, and went to visit a friend of his for some background information.
Manny Rodriguez was a former cop who’d left Sac PD at the same time Sam did. But Sam never wanted to give up his badge, while Manny resented the scrutiny and bad blood he and Sam had gotten after turning in Sam’s former partner for bribes.
Manny had a small office in a converted Victorian on I Street, close enough to the courthouse and bail bondsman who comprised most of his business. Sam thought it was humorous that the ground floor housed a hair and nail salon, while Manny shared the second floor with a criminal defense lawyer.
“I heard you were back,” Manny said after giving Sam a hug. Manny looked more like the gang-banger he used to play on the streets than the undercover cop he used to be or the private investigator he was now. “I wish you would have taken me up on my offer for a partnership.”
“If I had left the job for anyone, it would have been you,” Sam said. Manny had stuck with him through the arduous investigation and
Dooley frowned. Shauna knew what he didn’t want to say, but she let her grandfather tell it in his own way. “Mack’s been with me for nine years,” he said. “He had a rough time at first. Served in the Army, Desert Storm, honorable discharge. He didn’t want to come back home—but couldn’t go back because of shrapnel in his leg. He tried a lot of jobs. When he came to me, he was in debt. Gambling. Legal gambling, as far as I know—lost his house, his car, his family. All in Reno. Moved here for a fresh start. I don’t think he was gambling anymore, but sometimes—sometimes I suspected he was going over the mountain, to Reno, to play cards. But he didn’t seem to have worries, never asked for more money. I never saw any discrepancies in the books. He wasn’t stealing from me.”
“I concur,” Shauna said. “I would have noticed.” After learning how Jason Butler had bilked investors, she’d been doubly careful with all the accounting records she kept, for both her father and her grandfather.
“Did he ever have more money than he should have had?”
“You saw his apartment, right? He’s been there for nine years. Rent’s not expensive. I think he spent more for his television than all his furniture combined.” Dooley smiled sadly at the memories. “He loved his sports. Has a car, nothing special.”
“His bank statements are in line with his salary and lifestyle,” Black said. He didn’t have to tell them that, and Shauna appreciated that he was including them in the investigation.
“There’s one thing,” Dooley said, hesitation in his voice.
He didn’t say anything at first. Shauna prompted, “Da, what is it? You have to tell us.”
“I called his daughter Missy. She still lives in Reno. He wasn’t on good terms with her or his ex. He’s been sending her money when he can—she’s a single mom. She said she already knew, that a Sacramento detective had talked to her about his murder.”
Black tensed. “When?”
“I talked to her yesterday morning. Tuesday. I meant to call her Monday, but—” His voice trailed off.
“Did she say anything else?”
“No.”
“Do you have her contact information?”
“I’ll get it.” Dooley shuffled toward his office in the storeroom.
Shauna said quietly, “That wasn’t a detective who spoke to her, was it?”
Black shook his head. “I didn’t send anyone to Reno. I would have contacted the local police department if I needed something from her.” He stood and said, “Tell Dooley I’ll take a rain check on the Guinness. I have some calls to make. Can you send me the daughter’s contact information?”
“Of course,” Shauna said. “And you’re welcome anytime, Detective.”
He smiled. “Glad to be on your good side again, Ms. Murphy.”
She didn’t know if he was serious or not.
Chapter Twelve
Sam called John, filled him in on what he’d learned at Coresco & Hunt Law Offices, and went to visit a friend of his for some background information.
Manny Rodriguez was a former cop who’d left Sac PD at the same time Sam did. But Sam never wanted to give up his badge, while Manny resented the scrutiny and bad blood he and Sam had gotten after turning in Sam’s former partner for bribes.
Manny had a small office in a converted Victorian on I Street, close enough to the courthouse and bail bondsman who comprised most of his business. Sam thought it was humorous that the ground floor housed a hair and nail salon, while Manny shared the second floor with a criminal defense lawyer.
“I heard you were back,” Manny said after giving Sam a hug. Manny looked more like the gang-banger he used to play on the streets than the undercover cop he used to be or the private investigator he was now. “I wish you would have taken me up on my offer for a partnership.”
“If I had left the job for anyone, it would have been you,” Sam said. Manny had stuck with him through the arduous investigation and
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