The White Angel Murder

43

Stanton stopped at the mechanic’s shop and parked near the front next to a minivan. The shop was dingy and stunk of grease and the exterior looked like an abandoned gas station. He asked the cashier at the front for Louis and then sat on a fake leather couch and flipped through an issue of Time.

“Johnny!”

Stanton smiled and stood up as Louis hugged him and slapped his back. He’d gained weight and was now at least fifty pounds heavier than when Stanton last saw him, and he was tipping the scales even then.

“How are ya, Louis?”

“Good man, what’s up wit you?”

“Nothing much. Same old same old.”

“Yeah? How’s Melissa and your boys.”

“Fine. But we’re divorcing.”

“No shit? Ah, I’m sorry brother. What happened? You two seemed like you was perfect.”

“It was an act, I guess. Not from my end of it though.”

“Ah fuck man. I’m sorry. Look, my Juanita’s got this cousin man, Angelica, yo she is hot. Big tits, beautiful smile, man.”

“Maybe some other time.”

“All right man, but you hit me up if you get lonely.”

“I will.”

“So what’s up? What you need?”

“I need to get rid of my car and get a new one.”

“Yeah? There’s a dealer that’s a homie a mine that’s got some-”

“No, not like that.”

Louis looked at him a second and then said, “Oh, no shit? Awight. Well, it ain’t gonna be pretty.”

“I know.”

“Hang out a sec, lemmie see what I got.”

He went out to the back of the building and then stuck his head out of a door and motioned for Stanton to follow him. Behind the building was a massive field filled with cars. Many of them were out of service and used for spare parts, but there were a few that could still function and even a couple of luxury cars that had been abandoned by people in a hurry to get rid of them.

“I got a Beamer over there, 96. It’s awight but gots some problems with the catalytic converter. I got a old Taurus too, it’s that red one right there.”

“I’ll take the Taurus.”

“You sure, man? The Beamer’s a nice ride.”

“No, the Taurus is fine.”

They did an even trade, no paperwork, no questions, and Stanton drove out of the parking lot with a 2001 Ford Taurus registered to someone halfway around the country that didn’t know their name was being used to register cars in Southern California. As he pulled away he saw Louis’ team begin work on his Honda. Even though they had Stanton’s permission and he would have gladly signed over the title, they would change the VIN number, repaint it, change the tires and any other parts with serial numbers, and then sell the car through Craigslist or the Autotrader. Louis was known for making cars disappear.

Stanton drove for nearly three hours out of the city and ended up just outside Santa Barbara. He found a motel near a liquor store and a small convenience store and pulled in. The lobby was two old chairs and a rug with cigarette burns and the cashier sat behind a desk with a large sign that said, “NO CHECKS.”

He rented one room on the third floor and made his way up the stairs. The room was small and the bed was hidden away in the wall in what appeared to be a large closet. The furniture consisted of one 1960’s couch, a small coffee table and a 19 inch color television. He pulled the bed down and could smell that the sheets had not been changed since the last occupant. He sat down on the couch and dialed Jessica on his phone.

“Hey, Jon.”

“Hey. Any word?”

“Nothing much. Imperial County Sheriff’s are taking point and they made a big fuss that we came down too. They think it’s going to get a lot of media attention and they want to be the ones in front of the cameras.”

“Doesn’t matter. They don’t want to be the ones doing the work.”

“Yeah, I have no doubt. But nothing’s really happened yet. Someone called and left a message for the chief about it but he hasn’t called back. How are you doing?”

“As good as can be I guess.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“You sound worried about me.”

“Well, yeah, it’s just … I’ve put up with a lot of bullshit in my life but this is something I can’t really deal with. I’m thinking of quitting.”

“You shouldn’t do that. There needs to be good cops to counter people like Mike.”

“I just can’t believe what he’s doing to you. And that he’s probably going to get away with it. I just have this kinda sick feeling with me whenever I see my badge.”

“People like him, somewhere down the line, something will happen. It always does. You can’t be that crooked and get away with it for too long.”

She exhaled loudly and Stanton heard some glasses clink.

“I guess,” she said.

“Look, don’t quit. That’s not the right move and that’s not what I want. Stick with it just a little longer.”

“Jon, do you think the chief killed Hernandez? Is he that crazy?”

“I don’t know. If he had done it I don’t think he would’ve been as brazen as leaving his body out and blaming another cop. I think it was gangland. But something else is going on. Something’s overlapping with whatever happened to Tami Jacobs but I don’t know what it is. I’m getting closer to it, but it’s just not there yet.”

“I … just be careful.”

“I will.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow if there’s anything.”

“Okay. Good night.”

“Night.”

Stanton hung up and put his feet up on the coffee table. Down the hall, he could hear a couple arguing and then a slap before a woman started crying.