I, Samantha Moon Page 4

  I narrowed my eyes and scanned the place, taking in everything that I could see from my vantage point. Then I crossed my arms over my chest and raised an eyebrow at Chad. He shook his head and glared at me.

  “Mr. Michaels,” I said, “do you have a vehicle?”

  “No, ma’am, I can’t afford one.”

  “But you did have one?”

  “No, ma’am.” His voice trailed off.

  I hated when he called me ma’am. “Your wife had one?” I asked.

  “She did, but she took it with her.”

  “What kind was it, sir?”

  “Um. Uh. I’m not sure what kind. It was red. That’s all I know.”

  “Good enough,” I said. “We’ve taken enough of your time.”

  When we arrived at Chad’s Nova, he opened the trunk and placed the evidence in the pouch inside a briefcase. Then we jumped into the car and he started it up. “So, what’s your take?”

  “Andre Michaels’ first wife didn’t die at Saint Joseph’s, which means she’s either still alive and is paying child support or she’s alive and not paying child support.”

  “True.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back, resting his head against the headrest. “Go on.”

  “Or she’s dead.”

  “Okay,” Chad said.

  “So, where’s the body? Maybe we need to check local morgues and other hospitals,” I mentioned.

  “Or we can give it to Fullerton PD and let them handle it since lost bodies aren’t in our wheelhouse.”

  “They are when it pertains to housing fraud.”

  “Oh boy, I have a feeling that my workload is going to increase substantially with this case. What else you got?” Chad asked.

  “Darlene Michaels used Andre Michaels to make money from her HUD house. Simple as that. When he realized that she was a lost cause, he became angry, told her to get the hell out and she called the cops, claiming he hit her and pulled a gun on her.”

  “Or, he really did hit her and pull a gun on her,” Chad said, playing devil’s advocate.

  “So, Andre either has the gun she claims he stole or she’s lying about him stealing it and she figured it would be a good way to make some money on the insurance claim,” I said.

  Chad pulled away from the curb.

  “And we have the alleged identity theft evidence in the trunk. If that’s happening, too, then this case just got a whole lot deeper,” I said.

  Chapter Six

  Sleep was becoming my sworn enemy. I’d had the fire dream again. And after that one, another scary dream, this one about an incident at a lake. Despite my emotional upheaval about the dreams, I tried to focus on my work and stop fretting about my child’s safety like some paranoid, neurotic freak.

  Chad and I sat in the conference room with our laptops out, files spread across the long table and a box of pizza half gone. I glanced around my laptop at the neat piles we’d made. “So, Andre Michaels gave us a stash of stolen cards and passports.”

  “Yep,” Chad said.

  “Think he really knew what she was doing?”

  “Doubtless. He seemed willing to turn her in.”

  “Maybe he’s hiding something and wants to divert our attention to her,” I said.

  “You’re clever as always. Good God, look at this.” Chad stood and handed me a license.

  “Yep,” I said. “Annie Hines’ driver’s license. Darlene stole Lori Hines’ mother’s identity.”

  I shook my head as I read it over again and again. “No, I’m not buying it.”

  “Proof is there, Moon Pie.”

  “Why would Darlene do that when Lori had listed Darlene as a contact on her son’s medical and release card at school?”

  “True. Didn’t think about that.”

  “Run a search on Annie Hines. I want to see if she’s in any of our databases. Last time I checked, I found nothing. Let’s see if you find anything.”

  “You got it.” Helling sat back down at his computer and started punching in data.

  I stared at the license which read that she was born in 1953, blonde hair, blue eyes, and the license expired ten years prior. She weighed 142 pounds and stood 5’4”.

  He said, “You know, this license expired ten years ago. So, either Darlene has been stealing identities for ten years, which is absolutely possible, or…”

  “Or what?”

  “Or Annie Hines hasn’t renewed her license in ten years. Make sure you check the DMV database, too.”

  I ran a check on a web scraper, searching for her name as a keyword. There were a few things that popped up on my screen but nothing that related to her.

  “What did you find?” I asked.

  “She’s basically a ghost. There’s nothing in any of our databases, except an attempt to apply for HUD assistance eleven years ago.”

  “I didn’t see that last time. Does it say why she was declined?”

  “No, there’s not enough information. We’d have to go back and pull the microfiche. It’s not stored in the database. It’s too old.”

  My mind tossed about the facts of the case as I held the license between my fingers and stared into the woman’s eyes in the picture.

  Helling tapped the table and tore me from my thoughts. “We have a license but no person that the license belongs to. We also have an application from Lori Hines, who mentions Annie Hines. The name could be an alias.”

  I glanced up at him and tilted my head. “You know, whether Lori has her mother’s name on her HUD application or not is neither here nor there, but then, we have the case of stolen identity and that’s a little harder to overlook,” I said.

  “Honestly, we have enough to get a warrant to search Lori Hines’ home and Darlene Michaels’ home. And from what the detectives at FPD said earlier, they have enough to get a warrant for Martha Hernandez’ home. In one of those homes, we’re bound to find the gun used in the detective’s slaying.”

  “Yeah, either that or the damn thing is gone by now.”

  Helling nodded. “But we owe it to Annie Hines to at least follow one last lead.”

  “The address on the license.” I grabbed the folders that were spread out and started to put them back together. “It’s a long shot, but we have to at least try to locate her.”

  “What have you pieced together? I see your mind working, Moon.”

  “Something in my gut is telling me that Annie and Darlene know each other. Annie’s name was on Lori’s HUD application and Darlene’s name was on Lori’s kids’ records at school. None of that is sitting well with me.”

  Helling stood and pushed in his chair.

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “To follow the lead. Let’s go.”

  I narrowed my eyes and stopped cold. “Wait. There’s something we need to find out.” I paused.

  “Could Darlene, Annie and Lori all be related?”

  Helling led the way out of the conference room. “There’s a thought. Guess we’re going to find out.”

  When we arrived at his car, I said, “Aside from the apparent housing fraud going on, could Darlene’s rare weapon be the connection to Freddy Hernandez and Sutton’s murder? Guess we need to dig a little deeper in this shit pile,” I said.

  My partner chuckled. “Hungry? ’Cause I know I’ve worked up an appetite.”

  “Famished.”

  “Feel like a burger at Nick’s Super Burgers?”

  “Yeah, I can go for one of those.”

  We arrived at Nick’s burgers in no time.

  There were times that food was my best friend—warm and delectable comfort food. Mostly anything greasy or chocolaty and sometimes the two together, like chocolate-covered fries.

  Thank God, I loved to jog. If I ever stopped running, my poor choice of foods would be my undoing. I never wanted to imagine a life where I had to give up the food I loved to eat. That would certainly be hell on earth.

  We both ordered a bacon cheeseburger well-done, fries and a cho
colate shake. And my first bite swept me away into hamburger heaven. The fries were crisped to golden-brown perfection and the chocolate shake was refreshing and flavorful and exactly what I needed. After my encounter with Mr. Michaels, I needed a little slice of heaven on a plate.

  Chad was an excellent partner—he was a good ear and a sound mind. Many times while we ate lunch, I’d confide in him about things that plagued my mind—my heart. Things that I would never tell anyone—not even my husband, for fear that he might worry tremendously about me.

  Today was one of those days.

  I needed to confide in my partner and when the moment was right, between bites of scrumptious food, I leapt. “Can I get your opinion about something?”

  “Of course,” he said with a mouth full of fries.

  I sat back, using a napkin to wipe my mouth and placed it back on my lap. “I have been having these strange dreams lately—the type of dreams that make you question what is real and what isn’t.” As I made that statement, I prepared myself for a quick comeback.

  “I have that effect on women, Moon. Don’t stress yourself over it. You’ll get used to those dreams about me.”

  And there it was. I grabbed another napkin on the table, crumpled it up and threw it at him. “I’m serious, Chad.”

  “I was, too.” His face lost its smile and I knew the guy was still messing with me. He perked back up and said, “Go on, Moon Ray. I’m listening to every word you tell me.”

  “Okay, but no judgments. I’ve already thought about asking for a psych evaluation at work.”

  “That bad, huh? So, was it real or a dream?”

  “These are dreams, plural, Chad. I don’t know. I’m certain I was sleeping, but what was happening was as real as I’m speaking to you right now.”

  “Tell me about the most recent dream, Moon Beam. We can start there.”

  “Last night I had one. It started off very real and believable. Danny wanted to do some fishing at the lake and we brought lunch and enjoyed the day.”

  “Okay, normal so far. Is Tammy with you in the dream?”

  “Yes. As the sun was setting and we were loading up the car to leave, I saw someone or something standing on the other side of the lake with what I thought was binoculars, staring at us.”

  “That’s creepy.”

  “Yeah, I know, right? So, I grabbed Tammy and locked her in the car seat while Danny put all of our gear in the back.” I hesitated. “Okay, this is going to sound far-fetched, but I need to get it out and get your take.”

  “I’m listening, Sam. What happened?”

  I only hesitated because I didn’t want Chad to think I had completely lost my mind. But I needed to tell someone and he was the lucky soul. “I glanced through the passenger side window past Tammy and one minute I was staring at the stranger, and the next, he was gone.”

  “Okay, that’s good, right?”

  I shook my head and took a quick drink of my shake. “When I turned around to grab my bag on the ground at my feet, he was standing right in front of me, Chad. Right in my face.”

  “What the hell. What did you do?”

  “I froze. I stared into his eyes and I waited for him to attack, but he didn’t. It was as if his pupils were piercing right through mine to the pit of my soul. I get chills thinking about it even now.” I lifted my arms to show the tiny hairs standing away from my skin.

  “Did Danny see him?”

  I shook my head. “Here’s the thing. I screamed out, ‘You can’t have Tammy.’ Even though I knew he wasn’t there for her. It felt like he wanted me and not in some creepy way, in some other way, but when I said that, Danny came to me, grabbed my arms and shook me. He said, ‘What’s wrong? Are you okay?’ And the next thing I knew, still in the realistic dream, I was staring into my husband’s eyes.”

  “So, he didn’t see the guy running from the scene?” Chad asked, perplexed.

  I shook my head.

  “Did your little girl see him?”

  “No, I asked her but she didn’t see anything. As a matter of fact, Tammy didn’t start crying in my dream until I screamed at the bastard.”

  “What did the guy look like, Sam?” Chad was zeroed in on my tale.

  “This is the crazy part.” I glanced down at my plate and pulled another fry, dipping it in ketchup and taking a small bite. “I have no idea. I don’t remember one thing about its face. Not one thing.”

  “Its face?” Chad asked me.

  “Yeah. I don’t know. I went home, replayed the moment a thousand times and each time, I kicked myself for not being able to see its face. Nothing. Like it happened but it didn’t. I have no idea if it was human or what. It’s a blur.”

  “Maybe you had some kind of daydream. You know, the kind where your mind will play tricks on you?”

  “No.” I took another French fry and chewed slowly, thinking. “Chad, that man or whatever it was stood right in front of me. I felt his breath on my face. That’s how close he was. It wasn’t a make-believe vision or anything of the sort.” I shook my head and felt the chills run through my body again.

  Chad sat back in his chair and chewed the last of his food. Then he took a drink of his shake and studied my expression. My face. My movements. I knew when I was being evaluated by a federal agent. “You truly do believe that it actually happened. And if it did, Sam, where did he go so quickly?”

  I shrugged. “If I knew that, I would have hunted him down and dealt with him, rather than sit here and tell you about it. Then, I thought the weirdness was over until I had a recurring dream from an earlier night, this time, a little different from the first time I had it.”

  “About the same guy?”

  “This was different, yet in some ways, very much the same.” I hesitated, trying to pull my thoughts together before I shared this next part with Chad. “I heard Tammy crying. I jumped up and ran to her.”

  “Was this in the dream or in real time?”

  “At the time, I thought it was seriously happening, but when I woke up, I realized it was a dream.”

  “Okay, go on.”

  “So, I ran toward Tammy’s room and before I made it to her door, I saw smoke coming from her room.”

  “So, you are no longer at the lake and you’re in your home?”

  “Correct. At the doorway, peering inside, flames were lapping around her bed. There was a pathway from where I stood to her bed that was fire-free. I could see inside the room, Chad. And standing over my daughter’s bed was that same man from the lake. He had one hand over my daughter’s mouth and the other over her eyes. I ran and leapt toward the bed to protect Tammy, at which time, I heard Danny’s voice frantically saying, Sam? Samantha! Where did you put Tammy? Can you hear me? Where’s Tammy, Sam?! Then I woke up.

  My partner narrowed his eyes at me. “Damn, Sam. You need to talk to Danny about this. I wonder what it means.”

  “When I told him about the fire in the dream, he said it was my maternal instincts wanting to protect Tammy from her fever.”

  “Makes sense, but he should know about the guy, too.”

  “I don’t want to worry him with that part. He is kind of at the end of wanting to discuss my dreams. His position is that experts say that mothers have dreams like this all the time, fearing they won’t be able to protect their children.”

  “I’m not discounting your dream. You know me, I like to investigate further.”

  I nodded. “That’s why I came to you with this.”

  “In the lake situation, you said you didn’t feel as though he was after your child. Did you feel he was after Tammy in the fire part of the dream?”

  “No. Not at all. I was more fearful of the fire consuming my baby than the man or thing standing over his bed.”

  “A dream is a dream, but that lake thing is something entirely different, Sam. Do you think someone is stalking you?”

  “Not at all. I’m not sure what to think. But a woman had reported what I thought was a similar situation to the police.
There was a lineup earlier today and I attended, desperate to see if I recognized the perp from the lake.”

  “Did you see the guy in the lineup?”

  “I wouldn’t know if I saw him. I can’t remember anything about his face. It’s like he was faceless, but not.”

  “And the woman who initiated this lineup with her complaint. Did she see him in the lineup?”

  “Yeah. An African American guy. Maybe 6’2”. Not my guy. The one I saw stood right in front of me and he was about 5’9” and thin. I do remember that at least.” My phone rang and interrupted our conversation. “Will you excuse me?” I answered my phone. “Mary Lou? Are you okay?”

  The minute she said, “Something weird happened,” I knew that I’d have to find out if her weird matched my weird. I took her call outside and made plans to meet her.

  Chapter Seven

  Danny got Tammy from Mary Lou’s when I told him I needed a girls’ night with Mary Lou.

  And after my workday ended, I parted ways with Chad and met my sister for dinner at Heroes, this dive bar/restaurant on Chapman Avenue in downtown Fullerton. There was a grittiness about the place that was fun. That, and there were peanut shells all over the floor. Every table had a bowl of peanuts that you could crack open, eat the peanut, and just throw the shell on the floor without a second thought. It gave the place a college bar ambiance.

  Mary Lou needed comfort, reassurance and support. She needed me to lend an ear and a shoulder while she unloaded what she held inside of her. I understood that. I used Chad for those things—those strange things I didn’t want to share with Danny.

  But right now, Mary Lou wasn’t able to depend on her husband Ricky because Ricky was the issue—or at least he was the issue the other day when we’d spoken on the morning before I’d left for work.

  We sat at the bar.

  My sister adjusted in her chair, held her purse on her lap and took a sip from her coffee. She sighed and followed with, “So, I followed Rick the other night.”