Freezeout: A Cold Poker Gang Mystery Read online

  “She tell you about the change in plans?” Pickett asked.

  “She did,” Buddy said. “And I didn’t even ask.”

  Sarge glanced at Pickett. The women knew they were being followed. And if Sarge was to bet, the hotel had return air ducts they could go in and out of in disguise.

  But at least now they knew the five sisters got together for some reason twice a year. Still no idea why, but at least that was a start.

  “Did you hire a professional to follow her?” Pickett asked.

  Buddy nodded. “Sure did.”

  “You still have the report?”

  Buddy shrugged and stood and went to a file cabinet built into one wall. He unlocked it and pulled out the report and handed it to Pickett. “You can keep it. Not doing me much good now at all.”

  “You hire a firm to try to find her?” Sarge asked.

  Again Buddy nodded. “No damn luck. Last she was seen was going into the Benning Casino and Hotel. One of the other women from her job was supposed to meet her there in the café for lunch, but Kathy never showed in the restaurant. Just vanished into thin air. Her car was still in the basement parking garage.”

  Sarge knew exactly how she had vanished. She had found a camera dead area, put on a wig and a change of clothes, and then went into a guest room that was already reserved. But he didn’t tell Buddy that. They just didn’t dare yet.

  “She took nothing?” Pickett asked.

  “Her clothes she was wearing and the jewelry she had on. I had bought her a wonderful gold and diamond necklace and it was still in her jewelry box. She didn’t take anything from me except my love and my pride.”

  “It isn’t your fault, you know,” Pickett said. “Things happen to good people.”

  “I know that here,” Buddy said, pointing to his head. “But my gut and my heart tells me otherwise.”

  “Was it a happy year with her?” Sarge asked.

  Buddy nodded.

  “Then treasure that for the moment until we find out what happened. Sometimes a good year is a lot more than many couples get.”

  Buddy nodded and looked at the picture of Kathy on his desk. “I know that.”

  “You need to believe it,” Pickett said.

  “And that I’m still trying to do,” Buddy said, staring at the picture.

  All Sarge could do was sit there and be angry. Why in the world were these five sisters destroying so many men’s lives?

  They took nothing, but at the same time they took everything.

  SEVENTEEN

  November 17th, 2016

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  PICKETT AND SARGE walked out to her SUV in silence after leaving Buddy’s office. Pickett just felt angry and she could tell that Sarge was as upset as she was.

  She got into the car and they both just sat there in silence, letting the muffled traffic noise filter in. The day was starting to warm up a little, but not enough that she needed to turn on the air-conditioning. The sun actually felt good.

  “On second thought,” Sarge said, breaking the silence, “I think we need to get Robin and Will and their computers on finding out exactly what happened to these eighty-five men these women have destroyed.”

  “You think they are doing this on purpose?” Pickett asked, staring at the man she was quickly coming to love more than she wanted to admit.

  “They are clearly doing this on purpose,” Sarge said. “But if it’s just for cover for something else, I don’t know. But I do know they are heartless.”

  “With that I agree,” Pickett said, taking out her cell phone and calling Robin. She quickly detailed out what they were looking for, then hung up.

  “So let’s take a look at the private-eye report,” Sarge said.

  Pickett opened the folder and leaned toward him, letting him see the basic contents. The first thing in the folder was a picture of the woman they were calling March, formally Sandy Hunter and four other women. This picture was labeled Kathy Charles. She was aging well from the pictures they had of her in the Sandy Hunter file. One of those women who didn’t show many wrinkles and someone who had kept good care of herself.

  The next picture was of the five sisters, all sitting around a restaurant table, eating. From the picture they seemed to be happy and enjoying themselves.

  Pickett had no doubt it was the five women who kept vanishing every year.

  “What happened that would cause these five sisters to dedicate seventeen years of their lives to meeting and leaving husbands?” Sarge asked, staring at the picture.

  Pickett could only shake her head. Nothing at all made sense. Nothing. But something must have set the women on this course. Pickett and Sarge just needed to find out who the women had been originally and search their pasts, their real pasts for the clues.

  They spent the next thirty minutes sitting in the car reading the private detective’s report. Nothing at all new or unusual.

  Pickett closed the file, then looked at Sarge. “Think this guy might give us some information not in the report?”

  She pointed to the name on the report.

  Sarge nodded. “He’s the only one who has seen the five sisters together recently. Let’s check him out with Robin and then ask Buddy to call the guy and tell him it would be all right to talk with us.”

  Pickett nodded. She agreed. There might be something.

  She took out her phone and called Robin and put the phone on speaker.

  “Anything?” Robin asked without saying hello.

  “Not much from Charles,” Pickett said, “but he had a private detective follow his soon-to-be wife on her meeting with her sisters.”

  “Did you get the report?” Robin asked, suddenly sounding excited. “And who was the agency?”

  “Strickland Investigations,” Pickett said. “H. Strickland was the guy who filed the report. Nothing in the report we didn’t know.”

  “The guy is reputable,” Robin said. “Will does work with him at times.”

  “We think it might not hurt to go talk with him,” Pickett said. “See what is not in the report to the client. Would you set it up with him since Will knows him and we’ll get permission from Buddy Charles to have him talk with us.”

  “Got it,” Robin said. “And on the question about the husbands you asked earlier. All but two of them are still alive. One died of cancer, the other in a skiing accident. They all seemed to recover given time from their year with one of the sisters.”

  “Good,” Sarge said, nodding.

  Pickett felt relieved.

  “I’ll call you right back,” Robin said, “as soon as I get in touch with Strickland.”

  Robin hung up and quickly dialed Buddy Charles.

  Three minutes later they had Charles’ permission to talk with his investigator and Strickland would be waiting for them in his office.

  A very busy morning so far. Pickett liked that. She just wished they were making progress toward the reason behind all this.

  But as Sarge said as she started up the car to head for Strickland’s office. “At least we have solved eighty-five missing persons’ cold cases.”

  Normally, that would be really something. But something else was going on here besides five sisters unable to stay in relationships. She could just feel it.

  EIGHTEEN

  November 17th, 2016

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  SARGE HAD AN odd feeling about Henry Strickland from the moment they shook hands. Henry was a short man, not more than five-four, if that. He looked like any tourist visiting Las Vegas from the Midwest. His slightly graying hair was combed back, his loud Hawaiian shirt had more colors than the Vegas Strip, and he wore Bermuda shorts and white socks and black dress shoes.

  Perfect Las Vegas tourist, even in November. Sarge would have walked past him without a second look.

  Strickland’s outer office was a sprawling modern complex with a dozen young people working computers, all dressed very casually. His office had a massive mahogany desk, windows that looke
d out over a golf course, and a bathroom off to one side that looked as modern as one of Sarge’s bathrooms in his penthouse condo.

  Clearly there was money in private investigation. Of course, Sarge knew that since Robin’s husband Will was one of the richest people he had ever met and he did security and investigation as well.

  Strickland pointed to two chairs in front of his desk and went around behind the desk to drop into a large, leather chair.

  Pickett glanced back out the office window at all the people at the desks. “Can I ask what all those people are doing?”

  “Background searches, mostly,” Strickland said. “We hire out to churches, casinos, you name it, to do background searches on possible new employees.”

  Sarge nodded. That made complete sense. Someone had to do that sort of thing.

  “So I got this call from Buddy Charles,” Strickland said, leaning forward, “saying you two are looking into his wife’s disappearance.”

  “His and others,” Sarge said. “And he let us have your report about her trip to San Francisco, but we were wondering if there was more you didn’t put in the report.”

  Strickland shrugged and opened a file in front of him on his desk. “I got this out when I heard you were coming and looked at it again. This is a duplicate of the file I gave Charles.”

  Sarge and Pickett both watched as Strickland looked quickly at the report, then nodded and closed it. “Only thing I didn’t tell Buddy was that I was sure the five women knew that I was following them.”

  “We kind of figured as much,” Pickett said. “When she told him about the new location.”

  Strickland nodded.

  Sarge watched Strickland and he didn’t seem at all surprised by that news.

  “Let me tell you something else odd,” Strickland said. “They spent most of their time in one suite. All of them had their own rooms, under varied names, but they also had a large suite that was separate. After they all headed to the airport I bribed a nice hotel maid to tell me what she had seen in that room. She said she had seen computers. Five computers set up around the suite.”

  Sarge sat back, surprised.

  “Seriously?” Pickett asked.

  “Big new Mac laptops,” Strickland said, nodding. “The maid said she was hoping to save for one for her grandchild. I gave her a few hundred to help in the cause for her information.”

  “What would five sisters be doing with the laptops?” Pickett asked.

  “Sisters?” Strickland asked, learning forward.

  “Sisters,” Sarge said.

  He and Pickett and Robin had agreed on the way to see Strickland that he could be trusted and it wouldn’t hurt to get his take on all of this. Since no crime had been committed that they knew about, letting Strickland into the investigation wouldn’t hurt anything.

  And besides, they figured they needed all the help they could get.

  “Let me get you some more information,” Pickett said, taking out her phone. “Robin and Will say you can be trusted, so we thought we would bring you completely into this to see if you have any ideas on just what in the world is going on.”

  “This is sounding stranger and stranger,” Strickland said, smiling.

  Sarge laughed. “You have no idea.”

  “Robin, please e-mail Mr. Strickland the photos we talked about and the page of details for each woman.”

  Pickett nodded, said thanks, and hung up.

  Strickland had already turned and was bringing online his large desktop computer that sat to one side of his desk.

  Sarge sat there, watching the investigator as he opened his e-mail and clicked on what Robin had sent him.

  “Okay,” Strickland said. “I’m seeing a picture of a lot of women. What is that all about?”

  “Eighty-five of them,” Sarge said. “All gone missing without a trace over the last seventeen years. Click on the next picture.”

  Strickland did and then sat back. “Are you telling me the same five women were those other eighty-five women?”

  “They are all the same,” Pickett said. “And we know from DNA from their last two disappearances that the five are all sisters.”

  “They meet a guy,” Sarge said, “usually marry him, and then vanish without a trace, taking nothing but their clothes. No robbery, no reason, nothing.”

  “Exactly like Charles’ wife did,” Strickland said.

  Sarge nodded. “That’s why when we discovered you had actually seen all five together, we needed to bring you into this investigation.”

  Strickland nodded. “No idea who they are originally, I assume.”

  “Not yet,” Pickett said. “We have an international search for anything family related on DNA. That’s our best hope there.”

  “And no idea who they are with and what their names are now?”

  “No idea,” Sarge said. “Or if they are even continuing on. We are betting they are.”

  Strickland nodded. “I’ve trailed my fair share of women getting together for a few days of fun and friendship. These five felt different. They played all the parts, but they didn’t seem to be really having fun. Just a gut thing.”

  “So this was some sort of planning meeting,” Pickett said.

  Sarge agreed. “And they meet like this twice a year.”

  “We need to figure out why and what they were doing on those computers,” Strickland said.

  Sarge just laughed. “That would sure help.”

  Strickland smiled. “I know a guy who just might be able to help us.”

  “Help us with what?” Pickett asked.

  “Find out what those women were doing on those computers in that hotel,” Strickland said.

  “That was a year-and-a-half ago,” Sarge said. “How would that be possible?”

  Suddenly Pickett started laughing. She patted Sarge’s arm. “He’s talking about Mike Dans.”

  “Oh,” Sarge said, shaking his head.

  Strickland just smiled and said nothing, but it was clear Pickett was right. They were about to call the best computer expert in Las Vegas, the one who did things reputable agencies like Strickland’s and Robin’s husband couldn’t do.

  NINETEEN

  November 17th, 2016

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  PICKETT REALLY LIKED and respected Mike Dans, even though she knew sometimes his methods didn’t follow the strict letter of the law.

  Mike and his girlfriend, Heather Voight, often worked with Julia and Lott and Andor on Cold Poker Gang cases. And Mike really enjoyed helping out the Cold Poker Gang as much as possible.

  Sarge said he had met Mike on a robbery case about ten years before and liked him. Mike was a former Special Forces guy who hadn’t lost a step or a bit of muscle. He kept his hair short and had an infectious smile that hid a brilliant mind.

  He also controlled a small army of Special Forces retired soldiers for all sorts of jobs, many off the books. It was that group of highly-trained men that had rescued hundreds of prisoners from tunnels under Las Vegas just a month ago. Mike and his people took no credit or payment. They had just done what they had needed to do.

  Mike had done Sarge favors at times over the years and Pickett knew that Sarge had done a few in return. Mike ran a security firm, only not a famous one like Robin’s husband’s firm, but a firm that stayed behind the scenes.

  Mike and his people were also experts in all sorts of computer issues. And Mike was the best of them all.

  Pickett knew that Mike’s firm worked for Will at times, and it didn’t surprise her that he also worked for Strickland’s firm when needed.

  They decided that Sarge should call Mike, since that would help Strickland keep his hands clean a little more. So as Sarge dialed Mike’s number, Strickland excused himself to use the restroom.

  From Sarge’s side of the conversation that Pickett could hear, Mike seemed happy to hear from them. They hadn’t talked with Mike since the amazing work that he and his team did a month ago.

  “So,” Sarge
said after a few moments of talking with Mike, “we have found ourselves in another strange case.”

  Sarge laughed and nodded. “Yeah, seems we attract them. Right now I am sitting in Henry Strickland’s office with Pickett. Henry has excused himself to go use the restroom while I talk with you. The reason I am calling is that we could sure use some help.”

  Pickett watched as Sarge nodded. “Here is what we need. In April of 2015, five women stayed in a high-end hotel in San Francisco. They each had their own room, but they also rented a suite where they worked for three days on computers. Any chance we could figure out anything about what they were doing?”

  Sarge nodded, then said, “Worth a try. At this point anything will help. I’ll have Strickland send you the entire file, since he did surveillance on the five women.”

  “Thanks, Mike,” Sarge said. “Make sure you charge me for your time on this. Full rate.”

  Sarge laughed and then hung up.

  Pickett smiled. “I’m betting he said his full rate was lunch, right?”

  “Right,” Sarge said.

  At that moment Strickland came out of the bathroom. “I keep telling him he works too cheap.”

  Strickland sat down at his computer and two minutes later turned away. “Mike’s got the entire report. Now, explain to me how you got started on all this.”

  Pickett laughed and for the next fifteen minutes they filled Strickland in completely on the cold case of Sandy Hunter that opened this can of worms and how she got out of the hotel room and so on.

  All Strickland did was sit, looking stunned, with his mouth open slightly.

  Pickett knew that feeling. This case tended to do that to people.

  PART FOUR

  Drawing a Dead Hand

  TWENTY

  November 17th, 2016

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  SARGE SIPPED AT the iced tea the waitress at the Bellagio Café had brought him. It tasted great after a morning of interviews and no real progress. Strickland had helped some in making this a focus and had got the information to Mike Dans that Mike would need to have any hope of doing any tracing.