Rarities Unlimited 04 - The Color of Death

wasn’t a martyr to anything but bad luck.”
    The door to the suite opened. Peyton stepped away from Sharon and went to greet Ted Sizemore. The two men loathed each other, but business was business.
    “Thanks for the suggestion,” Sharon said quickly. “I’ll get back to you as fast as I can.”
    She hung up and smiled brightly at the two temperamental men in her life. She wondered how long she could balance them before her already raw nerves snapped. I need a vacation. A long one. But she couldn’t afford to take one now. She’d just have to suck it up and keep playing the dutiful, obedient dumb woman to a world of needy men.
    “Lee Mandel’s file just came in,” Sharon said.
    Sizemore looked at Peyton. “I’m sure you’ll excuse us. Business.”
    “Of course.” Peyton smiled at her. “See you at seven.”
    “Maybe,” Sizemore said quickly. “Maybe not. I might need her.”
    “And I know I’ll need a break,” Sharon said. “Seven.”
    Peyton shut the door behind him, leaving father and daughter to sort out who would be eating what, where, when, and with which male.
    “Why don’t you ditch that mutt and find a good man?” Sizemore said. “Have kids. Be a woman.”
    “Every man I know looks out for number one. Why shouldn’t I?”
    “Because you’re a woman.”
    “So selfishness is lodged in the balls? Or is it the dick?”
    “You’re feeling bitchy. That time of the month?”
    She smiled thinly. “At least my moods are predictable.” She stood up and waved her hand at the computer. “SA Groves’s summary of his CI, Lee Mandel, and the fact that Groves is still holding out for his Teflon gang as the perp for a lot of the courier hits, including Mandel.”
    Sizemore scanned the report with a speed that belied the alcohol puffiness of his eyes and jawline.
    “Can they track the stone from Florida to Purcell?” Sharon asked while her father was reading.
    “They’re working on it. The pawnshop owner that supposedly turned down the stone has connections to L.A., where Purcell had his home base.”
    “So they’re thinking this mutt sent the stone through the South American version of the old-boy network?” she asked impatiently.
    Sizemore nodded.
    “What about the transvestite?” she asked. “Was he local?”
    “They’re showing sketches around to find out.”
    “Sketches? I haven’t seen any.”
    Sizemore clicked on the last page of the document. Four sketches had been scanned in. He zoomed in on them one at a time.
    Sharon stared intently at each sketch in turn. The I-need-a-vacation headache behind her eyes settled in for a long stay. A drink would have helped her overstretched nerves, but Sizemore didn’t allow her to drink on the job.
    “Anything?” he asked.
    “No. You?”
    “I’ve met a few drag queens in my life, but not this one.” Yet Sizemore kept staring at the sketches, frowning.
    “Could it be Lee Mandel laying a false trail?” Sharon asked after a moment.
    “Not if he was already dead,” Sizemore said. “Besides, the CI says the sketches aren’t Mandel.”
    “Natalie Cutter?”
    “Whose real name is Kate Chandler, who happens to be Mandel’s half sister. If anyone would recognize him, she would.”
    “Well, that just adds a real gloss to this cluster,” Sharon said, shaking her head. “The half sister has been a regular fountain of false leads. How did she get back into the game?”
    “She’s the CI.”
    “She’s a nutcase!”
    “The Bureau doesn’t think so. And neither do the DNA results. The only good news is that somebody is trying to kill her.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Death threat. Mechanical distorter. Lab is working on it now.”
    “Waste of taxpayer money,” Sharon said quickly. “Even if they stroke a voice out, no court will accept it. Too many choices. If you use x frequency for your template, you get x voice. If you use y, you get y. If you use a cat, you get a cat.”
    Sizemore shrugged. “You never know. The lab has pulled more than one white rabbit out of a hat.”
    “Nutcases, mutts, and white rabbits,” Sharon said, throwing up her hands. “I don’t believe this shit. What is Kennedy thinking ?”
    “He’s covering his ass for all he’s worth. He’s damn good at it too. He’s isolated Groves and Chandler in such a way that no matter what happens, Kennedy wins. That’s one smart son of a bitch.”
    Sharon thought her father had the son of a bitch part right. “Now what?”
    “The Bureau is shaking the