“Sparky didn’t say anything about it. Does Monty know?” Fitz shook his head the way anyone with an ounce of compassion would do upon learning of the useless death of a young mother.
“Not sure. He probably does by now. Anyway, where are we going?” I grabbed my mace and my Taser from my desk and went to the kitchen to find a travel mug.
When I returned with coffee to go, Fitz was standing by Denise’s desk with a few files in his hands. “These three have court dates on Monday. Sparky said to see if they’re around and give them a friendly reminder of their obligation.”
He handed me the folders, and I glanced through them, finding that one of our stops was in Boulder City. Jean, Nevada, wasn’t but twenty minutes from there.
“Let’s save the stop in Boulder City for last. I wanna take a ride out to the Ramirez place to check on Maria’s son and aunt. Something’s not gelling for me.”
Fitz nodded before we headed out. Our first stop was in North Las Vegas for a guy who got caught getting a blowjob from a sex worker behind a parked car on The Old Strip.
I knocked on the door and stepped back when a woman answered, striding out boldly.
“Hello, ma’am. Is Mike Kohmer around? He gave this address on his bail application.” I held out my identification and a copy of the paperwork.
The woman nodded. “He’s cleaning out the garage as his punishment because he did something stupid. Mike forgot he’s a grown man and acted as if he could behave any way he wanted. We’ve talked to him, as has our pastor. He’ll be in court on Monday, I promise. These young people today…”
The woman, whom I guessed was in her fifties, seemed very determined that Mike was going to have his ass in court, even if she had to force him there at gunpoint. That was good enough for me.
Stop two was in Spring Valley. Unfortunately, nobody was home at the address listed on the bail application. We left a business card between the door and the jamb with a note to call us. Fitz then called the guy’s lawyer and left a message with his assistant to be sure the guy showed up on Monday.
Our third stop, not far from my duplex, was in Boulder City at Caroline Hefter’s small house. Caroline got into a screaming fight with another woman at a bar who happened to be with Caroline’s ex-boyfriend.
Caroline was charged with being drunk and disorderly at a well-known bar on The Strip. It would probably be reduced to a misdemeanor. The fine and court costs with an alcohol-abuse class seemed likely to be her sentence. It could have been a lot worse.
Fitz chuckled as he turned to me. “You’re a surprise these days. You’re one of us?”
I glanced at Fitz to see the cocky smirk on his faced. “I’m a surprise? By one of us, I assume you mean gay. To be honest, I don’t remember ever being asked if I had a label. Was that supposed to be part of the interview?”
I was being a sarcastic bastard, but people would never cease to amaze me with their belief that they were entitled to any information about someone’s private life.
Fitz chuckled. “I believe it’s illegal to ask that question, but I’m just sayin’. You never tipped your hand that you’re a member of the rainbow family.”
“I didn’t realize it was a topic of concern. Yes, I’m gay. I’ve kept my personal life to myself because my previous employers weren’t keen on having much diversity in the workforce, so it was better to keep one’s private life to oneself. Does it bother you?” I didn’t think I was being particularly pissy about it, but his scowl told a different story.
“It’s not a concern for me. It’s just that I thought you looked down on those of us who had partners or spouses of the same sex. Sorry to ask.” Fitz didn’t say another word during the whole ride to Rita Ramirez’s place.
We parked on the street, and I walked the sidewalk to the front porch. Fitz waited in the yard, his hand on the butt of his firearm.
The door opened, revealing a small woman in a black dress with a worn expression. “May I help you?”
“Ms. Ramirez?” She nodded.
“I’m Jagger Hansen with Sparks Bail Bonds. That’s my colleague, Fitz Morgan. I just wanted to check on you and Ruiz. You have our deepest condolences for the loss of your niece.”
She dried a tear and spoke in English with a thick Spanish accent. “Ruiz is with his father, Pedro, now. He and Maria were in a custody battle, and with Maria getting arrested for shoplifting, she believed she’d lose custody of Ruiz.
“Pedro is a bad man, and Maria didn’t want him to have Ruiz. She didn’t want to live without her son because he was her world. Maria thought if she died, I could get custody of my great-nephew, but the lawyer told me that’s not how it works.”
It was plausible. “Did she say that in a note?” Why did I think I had any business asking?
Rita appeared confused for a moment, and since I didn’t speak Spanish, I didn’t know how to explain it any clearer. I glanced toward Fitz, who must have deemed it safe to come up on the porch.
Fitz fiddled with his phone before stepping closer and holding out the device to show her the screen. “¿Había una nota de suicidio?” She read the words aloud and sighed. “Sí.”
Rita reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a sheet of paper, opening it and holding it toward me. It was written in Spanish, so I couldn’t read a word of it. It was a shame Bailey was gone because he spoke fluent Spanish. Maybe he could read it as well?
I pulled out my phone and took a picture of the note to get someone to translate it for me. “Did the police see that?” I pointed to the paper. She nodded, but I had to wonder why they hadn’t taken it from her as proof that Maria’s death was at her own hand.
