Free Sin City Homicide by Victor Methos Page A

again, evoking another scream. “You’re Chico, right, asshole?” He lifted higher.
    “Yeah,” he gasped though his air was being cutting off.
    “Good, now we’re getting somewhere, Chico. Was it Mateo who told you I was comin’ just now?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Good, good. Few more questions , and you’ll never see me again. All right? But if you lie to me, I’m comin’ back here. Not during the day, though. I’m going to sneak in here at night while you’re sleeping, and I’m going to cut your guts out and feed ’em to you. Then I’m gonna cut up any other fuckers in this house. I don’t care if it’s your daddy, your mommy, or your nana. You feelin’ me?”
    “Yeah, yeah, I feel you.”
    “Good. Now, where are the two keys you got off the body in the car that was burned up?”
    “They downstairs.”
    “Where downstairs?”
    “In a cabinet. You just go down , and it’s by the window.”
    “You merc that poor bastard I found?”
    “No way, ese . I don’t do that shit.”
    “Could’a fooled me with the shotgun you said hello with.”
    “That was for protection, man. I ain’t never killed nobody. Fuck, I just deal, man. That’s it. I just want that paper. I ain’t tryin’ to get no life in prison.”
    “Let’s pretend for a minute I believe you. Then who’s responsible for that body?”
    “It was a cop, man. A fuckin’ cop did that shit.”
    “See, now here’s the problem. Mateo told me that a cop got paid off to tip you last time we were supposed to meet. So, one of you is playing me for a bitch , and that ain’t the right move.”
    “Nah , man, it’s the truth. Cop did that body, and then when the keys was gone, he got five G’s when he ratted you out.”
    “What cop was it? Did you see him?”
    “Nah, I talked to him on the phone, though, yo.”
    “What was his name?”
    “Jon, man. Jon something.”
    “Jon what?”
    “Stanton.”
     

13
     
     
     
    Stanton walked into police headquarters with Mindi, and she told him to follow her. They walked down a long hallway with photographs of various sheriffs and lieutenants on the wall. Toward the end was a photo of the president and one of the attorney general. They passed a janitor’s closet, and Mindi opened a door and walked inside. He followed her into a makeshift office that held a desk, a chair, a computer, and a couple of filing cabinets. The supply closet had clearly been a large one, and it still stank of chemicals and cleaning products.
    “It’s not much,” she said, “but it’s yours. Orson said you would want something private , and this is as private as it gets.”
    “It’ll be fine. Thanks.”
    “So, when do you want to go get Freddy?”
    “I need to speak to a tech expert first.”
    “What kind?”
    “Imagery, DVD specifically. Do you have one on site?”
    “No, we contract with a lab. Do you want to go out there?”
    “Actually” —he pulled the blank disc out of the file—“can you head there and give them this?”
    “What is it?”
    “It’s a disc I found in the Steeds’ home. I think it may have had something on it that’s been erased. Have them see if they can bring it up.”
    “All right, no prob. What are you going to do?”
    “I need to speak with Orson for a bit. Let me know what the lab says.”
    “Okay . I’ll be right back.”
    Stanton waited for her to leave then sat down. The carpet was stained so deeply that he thought dark brown was its natural color, until he noticed splotches where it was clean beige. He took out his cell phone and dialed his ex-wife. His oldest, Matt, should’ve just finished a tennis lesson, and he wanted to ask him how it had gone. The call went straight to voicemail. He took a deep breath and rose to find Orson.
    Although the headquarters served as a fully functioning precinct, equipped with holding cells and SWAT lockers, it still had the air of an administrative headquarters. He saw more office workers than field uniforms, and it gave him an