Саманта Сильвер - Sleeping With The Fishes

Four hours later it was the middle of the night, the adrenaline of the stake-out had worn off, I’d eaten way too many chips and I was starting to get antsy that we hadn’t seen them yet.

“What if they don’t come this way?” I asked Jason. “What if we just sit here until sun-up and they’re long gone? Maybe they took an inside route and went straight to I5 from the south.”

“Maybe, but I doubt it. Those routes might normally be faster, but there’s a lot of construction work happening on a lot of the minor highways right now to prepare for winter. They’re going to want to come this way not only because it’s going to be faster, but because near construction zones there tend to be more cops, and the last thing they want is to get pulled over if they have smuggled animals in their car.”

“That makes sense,” I said.

“Still, you’re right. It’s a very real possibility. Assuming Trevor took the photo a few minutes before he posted it on Facebook, they should be coming by in the next hour at the very latest, assuming they stopped for dinner somewhere.”

“Great,” I muttered, stifling a yawn and popping open another Red Bull. Jason knew what he was doing when he’d bought a dozen of them. Unfortunately, I’d already had to go out and pee outside a couple of times because of it.

Suddenly a pair of headlights came toward us. That in and of itself wasn’t the least bit strange; we’d seen hundreds of cars and trucks go by in the last few hours, but what was strange was that it seemed to slam on its brakes as soon as it saw the old construction sign Jason had put up, like they absolutely didn’t under any circumstances want to get caught doing over the speed limit. Plenty of cars going by had simply straight up ignored the sign.

As soon as I saw the deep red color and the familiar shape of the Toyota Rav4, I perked up. I tried to peer inside and noticed a wavy-haired woman driving and a male passenger before the car got out of view.

“I think that’s them,” Jason said, starting up his car and pulling out onto the freeway behind them. Luckily there weren’t any other cars around, so we didn’t need to stay right on them. Jason left a hundred feet or so between us, to keep them from getting suspicious.

I wondered what would happen if they made it to I5 and up into Washington. After all, I couldn’t leave the state.

“Did you find out anything about the assault Matt Smith was involved in?” I asked Jason suddenly, remembering that I’d asked him to look into that.

He grinned and looked at me in reply. “Yeah. It’s a funny story, that one. The short version is that Matt Smith crossed the river into Vancouver, and decided to go to a bar there. Apparently there was a girl he liked, and he didn’t exactly take kindly to her telling him off. She was just hanging out with friends and apparently he was being a huge creep.”

“Gee, I’m shocked,” I replied sarcastically.

“So the girl ends up calling her boyfriend, who shows up and tells Smith to get lost. He leaves the bar, but waits in the bushes for the girl’s boyfriend to leave, and tries to beat him up. Unfortunately for him, Smith was completely drunk at this point, whereas the guy was stone cold sober, and had about a hundred pounds on him. Smith ended up with a broken nose and an arrest on his record.”

“Well, the black eye makes me feel better, at least. I didn’t notice his nose looking weird when we saw him, it must have healed.”

Jason nodded. “I guess so. Or it wasn’t as bad as the dude made out. But anyway, he couldn’t have killed Smith. He works nights, and he was on duty the whole night when Smith was killed. He works at a warehouse in Portland, I spoke to one of his coworkers. He was there, and there was no way he could have slipped away for a few hours without anyone noticing.”

“Well, there goes the entire list of suspects,” I muttered. “Maybe we should look at Tony Fanchini again,” I suggested. “After all, he seemed a little bit off when Sophie and I went to see him.”

“Off how?” Jason asked.

“I don’t know. I just got a weird vibe from him.”

Jason nodded. “Fair enough. I imagine most major developers are like that. But we’ll check him out again for sure, see if he had a hidden motive to have Smith killed. Maybe he was going to lose his court case after all, or something.”

Before we got the chance to discuss things further, however, the Rav4 put its blinker on and turned off at an exit.

“What do you think they’re doing?” I asked.

“Getting gas is my guess,” Jason replied as he pulled off the highway as well. “Now’s our chance. Whatever we’re going to do, we’re going to do it now.”

“I’m not going to lie, I actually have no idea what to do,” I said, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Jason laughed.

“You’re more like Sophie than you like to admit,” he said. “I think we just confront them. They’re going to be crossing the border into Canada, so they won’t be armed.”

I loved how good Jason was at thinking of these things. “Ok, let’s do it,” I said as we pulled into the same gas station, Jason parking in the stall next to theirs.

“Follow my lead,” Jason said. “Remember, we have all the power. They almost certainly have smuggled animals in their car; the last thing they’re going to want is for the police to be involved in anything.”

“Are you sure you weren’t involved in the mob like your dad was?” I muttered more to myself than anything. I completely believed Jason when he told me all his experiences with these things came from being an investigative journalist in New York City.

I watched and followed as Jason made his way to the driver’s side door of the Rav4 and took the keys out of the ignition, which was easy since the car was turned off.

“Hey man, what the hell?” Trevor said when he noticed, coming around the side of the car and ignoring the fuel.

“Who is this guy, Keith?” Kerry Palmer asked, getting out of the car as well, her face obviously annoyed.

“Cut the crap, we know you’re Kerry and Trevor Palmer, don’t bother with the fake names with us,” I said, crossing my arms, hoping I looked a lot more intimidating than I felt. The siblings shared a glance with each other.

“Where’s Thomas Schiff?” I asked, and Kerry pointed a finger into the car.

“Old man’s asleep. Who are you and what do you want?”

I glanced into the SUV and noted that the old man was, in fact, snoring away. The slow breathing and drool at the corner of his mouth made me think it was legitimate, and not just an act.

“A few months ago you smuggled a giraffe out of Tarangire National Park. I need to know where it came from,” I said.

Trevor crossed his arms. “We don’t know anything about that.”

“Look, buddy,” Jason told him. “I have your car keys. I know you have smuggled animals of some sort in your car. I’m a reporter. I know all the cops around here. I can have them here in five minutes, and the three of you can spend some time in jail. After all, it’s not exactly your first arrest. Or, you can answer me and my friend here honestly, and we’ll let you go do whatever it is you want to do. Honestly, we don’t really care about any of the other animals, we just care about the giraffe. Where did she come from?”

Trevor and Kerry looked at each other. Then, Kerry gave Trevor the most imperceptible of nods. “You swear you’re not going to turn us in, man?” Trevor asked, and Jason nodded.

“Yeah. We just want to make sure the giraffe goes back to where she belongs.”

Trevor sighed. “It’s as you say, the giraffe was in Tarangire National Park. And let me tell you, it was hell trying to get her out without anyone noticing.”