Kill Game: A Cold Poker Gang Mystery Read online

  “You know your in-laws were this rich?” Lott asked as they finally stopped in front of one of the highest and largest homes on the entire street. It had a tall black iron fence around it and monitored gate across the driveway. From what Lott could tell, the driveway wound through some trees farther up the ridgeline to a circular driveway in front of a three-story mansion that could hold a dozen of his homes and not even break a seam.

  “Not a clue,” Rogers said. “I didn’t know I had in-laws, actually. Stan seemed poor and acted poor right down to every detail. For heaven’s sake, he drove a three-year-old van with a dent in the door.”

  Lott just shook his head as they sat there in the comfort of the big car, letting the air-conditioning keep them cool in the afternoon heat of early October. None of this made any sense.

  From the moment they started finding out about Stan’s many wives, nothing seemed to add up. And they weren’t one inch closer to who might have killed him. And they had a lot more questions than answers, now. And a lot of suspects, none of whom felt right to Lott.

  They never did find the Impala. It wasn’t impounded and there were a lot of them registered in those years after his death, but not to anyone that seemed connected to the case in any way.

  And the boxes had been full of receipts and maps and charts and old books. Until they got an exact lead, the maps and such would make no sense. As Andor had said, the boxes were more of a lost treasure than anything Rocha had been looking for.

  And then, when Annie and Doc came back with the results of their search on the building, it turned out they had discovered that Stan had actually owned the warehouse where his body had been found.

  That had shocked Rogers almost as much as finding out Stan had other wives. Maybe even a bit more.

  Stan’s company had specialized in mineral rights, which explained a lot of the old maps and documents they found at Denise’s home. The company owned upwards of fifty parcels of land around Nevada and had bought mineral rights on a hundred more.

  And almost all the holdings were of land where a supposed lost mine or treasure might be located. Stan really had been searching for lost treasure, but doing it with a big corporation.

  There didn’t seem to be any other shareholders in the company, at least that Annie and Doc could find. All records were privately held in the Nevada corporation. And Nevada, being a state that prided itself on being business friendly and nonintrusive into corporate affairs, didn’t have any records other than that Stan was the majority shareholder and ran the company and was the only name on all the documents.

  After Stan’s death, the company went on for another dozen years and then was finally bought by a mining consortium for an undisclosed amount of money in 2005. They could find no idea as to who got the money or Stan’s shares.

  Annie and Doc and their crew of researchers had no idea what the company did except buy land, mineral rights, a few water rights, and a dozen different warehouses. But Annie had promised him that they would keep digging.

  Annie had gotten interested in the case, since she also had made a run at it when she was a detective. So when Lott told her that they needed to get up to Boise to visit Stan’s parents and brother, she and Doc offered to fly them up on their private jet. The two of them had a tournament they had planned to play in at the Bellagio, so they couldn’t go along. Which left the private jet with its huge brown leather seats, soft carpet, and wonderful food served by a woman named April to just Lott and Rogers.

  Lott had to admit, that was the type of flying he could get used to. Annie and Doc had offered a few times over the last year to take Lott on a flight, but until this case, he had had no real need to leave Las Vegas.

  Now he might find more reasons.

  Rogers flat loved the plane, at one point over a glass of wine saying she needed to play more poker.

  Lott knew that this jet had been earned by Doc being such a good poker player, but more of it was because his best friend, Fleet, knew how to invest and make money grow. Lott knew the two had been a team since they were in college together, Doc making the cash from poker, and Fleet investing it.

  Then when Doc’s father had been killed, Doc had inherited another not-so-small fortune.

  Lott had asked Annie once how much money Doc had. She had laughed and said, “Trust me, Dad. You don’t want to even know.”

  And now, with the help of Fleet as well, Annie’s winnings at poker were making her wealthy as well. Connie would be proud of her daughter, Lott was sure. He sure was.

  He glanced over at Rogers who was just staring at the gate of the big mansion. “You ready, Detective?”

  She took a deep breath and nodded. “Take the lead,” she said.

  “Glad to,” he said, climbing out into the dry, warm air. It wasn’t as warm as Vegas, but still plenty warm enough.

  They moved up to the big gate. There was no sign, only an address.

  Lott pointed at the bell beside the gate with a speaker above it. “Andor would hate this.”

  Rogers laughed. “No place to knock.”

  Lott smiled at her. She would be fine. The two of them had really come to like spending time together over the last week, mostly eating dinners together. And the flight up here this morning, besides being in luxury, was comfortable between them as well.

  He just hoped that once this case was over, they could continue spending time together. He was starting to enjoy not eating alone every evening while getting to know her.

  “Yes,” a voice came back through the speaker.

  “Detectives Lott and Rogers,” Lott said into the speaker.

  “I’ll be right down,” the man’s voice said.

  Lott glanced at Rogers. That was not at all what he had expected. They had called ahead and made an appointment to talk with Carl Rocha, Stan’s brother.

  And they had both hoped to have a word with Stan’s parents as well.

  A man looking to be in his late fifties came striding down the driveway. He was dressed in tan golf slacks, a tan short-sleeved golf shirt, and brown loafers.

  “Stan’s brother,” Rogers whispered. “The likeness is scary.”

  Lott nodded as the gate opened.

  Carl Rocha introduced himself with a firm handshake, then asked, “Would you mind if we talk in your car?”

  Lott shrugged and turned and led the way. He had Carl climb into the front seat and Rogers climbed into the back behind Lott. She moved to the middle so she could see Carl as well between the big front bucket seats.

  Lott turned in his seat so he could see both Carl and Rogers.

  “Sorry,” Carl said after Lott got the car started and air-conditioning going. “Mom’s having a rough day and I didn’t want to upset her anymore.”

  “We understand,” Lott said. “Thanks for seeing us.”

  Carl then did something that Lott was not expecting. He looked back at Rogers. “I assume you are one of Stan’s wives? The Detective from Reno?”

  All Rogers could do was nod.

  How the hell had he known that?

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  October, 2014

  Foothills

  Boise, Idaho

  JULIA SAT THERE STUNNED for a moment at Carl’s question.

  “You are correct,” she said. “I was Stan’s wife in Reno. I was the one informed about his death. I didn’t know he had family, let alone other wives. He never mentioned a thing about his life, otherwise I would have contacted you at once.”

  Carl nodded. “I know you would have, Detective.” He then asked the next logical question that Julia would expect a rich person with a mess on his hands to ask.

  “Why investigate my brother’s death now?”

  Lott explained about the group of mostly retired detectives who worked on cold cases for the Las Vegas Police. “Your brother’s case was my first case to go cold as a detective. So I have a personal interest in getting it solved.”

  “And I joined into the group when I retired and moved to Las
Vegas,” Julia said. “So how did you know about your brother having a number of wives?”

  Carl shrugged. “He told me.”

  “You’re kidding?” Julia asked, again shocked. “That’s not like people who do that sort of thing. They are usually very secretive about it. Did he tell you why?”

  Carl nodded. “Sure. He said he loved you all and just couldn’t help it. Honestly, I tried to get him to get professional help, but he didn’t want it. I just kept hoping that the house of cards he was building with all four of you wouldn’t come crashing down.”

  Julia laughed slightly and Lott glanced at her with his worried look she was starting to really like.

  “That makes sense for the Stan I knew,” she said. “He hated hurting anyone’s feelings. He would rather just go along with something instead of complain at all.”

  Carl nodded. “That was my brother. From a distance I sort of kept track of all four of you for a time after he disappeared. Stopped about ten years ago after it was clear Stan wasn’t coming back either here or to any of you.”

  “And I assume you have kept this all from your parents?” Lott asked.

  “I kept everything about his four wives from them except this news about his death,” Carl said. “I didn’t know he had been murdered until I got a call from Denise Miller after you spoke to her. I told my parents then that Stan was dead. I think they knew, but having it confirmed really set them back. Especially mom. She somehow, after twenty years, kept thinking he would walk in the door at any moment.”

  Julia couldn’t think of anything to say to that.

  “We met Denise,” Lott said after a moment of silence.

  Carl nodded. “She’s a real piece of work, that one. Never met her, but the phone calls are always interesting. She’s the only wife Stan told about his parents.”

  “Do your parents know they have grandkids?” Julia asked.

  “I have three kids,” Carl said. “At the moment that’s enough for them. Detective, realize my father has Alzheimer’s and doesn’t remember anyone anymore and my mother has congestive heart failure. Both of them have very little time to live. I see no point at this time in their lives to change anything.”

  Julia nodded. “That honestly makes sense. I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Don’t worry, Detective,” Carl said. “On my parent’s death, all three of Stan’s children will be cared for with trust funds and college paid.”

  “Three?” Lott asked.

  “His wife in Winnemucca had a young girl right before he vanished, or as it turned out, was killed.”

  “And the other child?” Lott asked.

  “My daughter,” Julia said, looking at Lott with a puzzled look. “She was born three months after Stan was killed.”

  Lott looked at her, his mouth open.

  “You’re kidding?” Julia asked, now starting to suddenly get worried. “I didn’t tell you I was pregnant with my daughter Jane when Stan was killed?”

  Lott shook his head.

  “I’m very sorry,” Julia said to Lott, suddenly worried about how he would feel. “She’s majoring in biochemistry at UNLV. It’s why I moved to Las Vegas in the first place, to be close to her. She’s so busy, we seldom talk. Not sure why I never mentioned her.”

  Then Julia turned back to look at Carl. “I am sure she will appreciate anything coming from her father’s family, since she never knew him. But there is no need. She’s doing fine with scholarships in the meantime. That’s not why we are here. We want to find out who killed Stan.”

  Lott said nothing.

  “I understand,” Carl said, nodding.

  Julia really hoped her surprise hadn’t hurt what she was starting to enjoy with Lott. The subject of her daughter had just never come up. She hadn’t been hiding it. Or at least she didn’t think she had.

  Dammit all to hell. What a stupid oversight on her part. She was proud of her daughter, just as he was proud of Annie.

  She and Lott would have to talk when this was over. She really wanted what they were building to continue. She enjoyed his company far, far more than she wanted to admit at times.

  Also, she wasn’t looking forward to letting her daughter know she had a half-brother and a half-sister. That was a task she had been avoiding since they had talked to Denise.

  When they got back, it was time to have that conversation as well.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  October, 2014

  Foothills

  Boise, Idaho

  LOTT HAD BEEN SHOCKED at learning about Julia’s daughter. He had to admit that. She clearly was proud of her daughter, and clearly hadn’t been hiding her from him in any fashion. It had just never come up.

  And that worried him because he was really starting to fall for this woman and he realized he knew almost nothing about her. After all the years with Connie, knowing everything there was to know about Connie, he guessed he just sort of figured he would automatically know a person he was attracted to.

  But that was clearly not the case. A very dumb assumption on his part.

  She looked worried about him not knowing about her daughter. Clearly she also was concerned about something getting in the way of what was growing between them.

  Well, as far as he was concerned, it wouldn’t. He just needed to adjust his thinking some and enjoy getting to really know another person. Something he hadn’t done since he and Connie had met back when he was still a traffic cop.

  “So,” Lott said, deciding to focus back on Carl while they had him trapped in the car. “What happened to your brother’s corporation?”

  Now it was Carl’s turn to act surprised. “What corporation? Except for the money my parents sent him to live and an old Impala, he had nothing more than the clothes on his back.”

  Rogers looked at Lott and he nodded. She reached into a folder beside her on the back seat and pulled out all the information they knew about Stan’s business. And with luck, Annie and Doc and Fleet would be digging up even more in the next day or so.

  She handed the paper to Carl who studied it, clearly shocked. Lott had watched a lot of people pretend to be shocked. This was real.

  Carl really, really hadn’t known his brother ran such a large business. Rocha really had a way with secrets, that’s for sure.

  After a moment, Carl looked up. “Breyfogle Incorporated?”

  Lott nodded. “Named after a famous lost mine to the west of Las Vegas. Your brother’s company bought up land, mineral rights, and water rights all over Nevada, almost always where there was a rumored hidden treasure.”

  “Plus they owned three warehouses in Reno and a dozen in Las Vegas,” Rogers said. “His body was found in one of the warehouses his company owned.”

  “We didn’t know he owned the building at the time,” Lott said. “We only discovered all this just lately in this new investigation.”

  “So what happened to all this after his death?” Carl asked, frowning as he continued to study the paper with all the assets of the corporation listed that had been found so far. “There was a lot of money here.”

  “That’s what we just asked you,” Lott said. “We have people tracing this, but so far we have run into a dead end. Whatever happened to this corporation was very, very carefully covered up. And, of course, Nevada corporation laws make that fairly easy to do.”

  “This isn’t possible,” Carl said. “My brother was a free spirit. Smart as they came, yes, but not the corporation type. And I have no idea where he would have gotten the money for all this.”

  “Parents didn’t fund him in any way?” Rogers asked.

  “No,” Carl said, shaking his head. “I’ve five years older than Stan and was already doing the family books and accounting when he left college. I did the books both for our family corporations and my parent’s personal money. I know of every dollar they sent him. And it wasn’t much. Not enough to start this.”

  Carl waved around the paper and then handed it back to Rogers who put it back in the file
folder.

  “Did Stan have any friends in college that could have helped him with his treasure hunting?” Rogers asked.

  That was a good question that Lott hadn’t thought of.

  Carl shook his head. “He was a loner. He had a girlfriend for the last couple years of college, but he told me she wanted to get married and he wanted to go search for lost treasure.”

  “A woman he didn’t marry,” Rogers said, laughing.

  “Yeah, wondered about that after he started into marrying all of you,” Carl said, shaking his head. “He did all that marrying in one year. 1988.”

  “When did he leave college?” Lott asked.

  “1986 was when he graduated,” Carl said.

  “The corporation was incorporated in late 1989,” Rogers said. “And started buying land shortly after.”

  Suddenly Lott had a thought, one that Stan’s brother and Rogers wasn’t going to like much if he was right.

  “So I assume,” Lott said, “that when Stan came home, he stayed here with your parents.”

  Carl looked puzzled. “Stan never came home. Not once from the time he left to go treasure hunting.”

  Rogers jerked and looked at Lott.

  “Tell me,” Rogers said, “was his college girlfriend rich?”

  Carl nodded, looking puzzled because he seemed to know he had missed something. “Very. Why?”

  “And she had access to money, even being young?”

  “I think so, why?” Carl asked. “She had a huge trust fund that she came into when she graduated. You think she funded up Stan?”

  Rogers nodded. “I can’t imagine the man I married saying no to a woman.”

  “Shit,” Carl said, almost shouting. “Are you saying he might have married her as well?”

  “Maybe,” Lott said, keeping his voice calm. “Not a word to anyone. Let us investigate because she might be our suspect.”

  Carl nodded.