The White Angel Murder

8

Stanton walked into the little barbeque shack as soon as they opened. He had been waiting in the car until nine and watching the surfers pack up their things and head to their day jobs.

The shack was much bigger than the exterior let on. There were at least twenty tables and a few booths. A large bar sat at one end and the kitchen was to the right of the entrance. It was dark and there were few windows, most of the illumination provided by neon beer signs throughout the space.

“Can I help you?” a young girl said.

“I’m looking for the owner.”

“Tim? He’s in the kitchen. I’ll get him.”

Stanton went and sat at the bar. He ran his fingers along the top and felt the notches from drunks placing bottles down too hard. A small bowl of peanuts was next to him and he noticed a bottle cap inside.

“How’s it going?”

Tim was tall with a belly and thick arms. He towered above Stanton and threw a rag he used to wipe his hands over his shoulder.

“Good.”

“I’m the owner. What can I do for you?”

“Jonathan Stanton. I’m with the San Diego Police Department. I’m doing some follow up on Tami Jacobs.”

“I smoke a joint in the back and you roll up in minutes. Beautiful young girl’s raped and killed and you can’t find who did it.”

Stanton saw the anger in his face and said, “The Department’s got its head up its ass most of a the time. That’s why I’m here. I’m gonna find who did this.”

The cadence and volume of his voice matched Tim’s.

“Yeah. Well, I ain’t got that much to tell you. Police already talked to me when it happened.”

“I know. But there was something I wanted to ask you about.”

“What?”

“You had her on the schedule to work a shift the morning she was killed. I don’t see her as a morning person. Did she always work them?”

“No, her shift was nights I think. If she was working morning means she traded shifts with somebody.”

“Do you know who?”

“Been too long, man. Couldn’t say.”

“Any way you could find out?”

“I don’t keep schedules for longer than a few months. Probably deleted it.”

“Could you check anyway?”

“Yeah, I guess I could.”

Stanton placed his card on the table. “Thanks. Please call me if you find that name.”