Cal Rogan Mysteries, Books 4, 5 & 6 (Box Set) Read online

  Cal Rogan Mysteries

  Books 4, 5 & 6

  Robert P. French

  Copyright © 2020 by Robert P. French

  This book is a work of fiction. Characters, incidents, names and places either are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Three

  Foreword

  Acknowledgments

  1. Tomás

  2. Stammo

  3. Cal

  4. Cal

  5. Stammo

  6. Tomás

  7. Cal

  8. Sam

  9. Cal

  10. Cal

  11. Stammo

  12. Cal

  13. Cal

  14. Tomás

  15. Cal

  16. Stammo

  17. Sam

  18. Cal

  19. Cal

  20. Tomás

  21. Cal

  22. Stammo

  23. Cal

  24. Cal

  25. Tomás

  26. Cal

  27. Ellie

  28. Tomás

  29. Cal

  30. Stammo

  31. Cal

  32. Stammo

  33. Cal

  34. Max

  35. Sam

  36. Cal

  37. Tomás

  38. Cal

  39. Cal

  40. Sam

  41. Cal

  42. Stammo

  43. Cal

  44. Cal

  45. Cal

  46. Stammo

  47. Cal

  48. Max

  49. Cal

  50. Cal

  51. Stammo

  52. Cal

  53. Max

  54. Cal

  55. Stammo

  56. Cal

  57. Max

  58. Cal

  59. Cal

  60. Cal

  Afterword

  Cabal

  Foreword

  Acknowledgments

  1. Annalise

  2. Cal

  3. Cal

  4. Nick

  5. Cal

  6. Nick

  7. Cal

  8. Cal

  9. Nick

  10. Cal

  11. Cal

  12. Nick

  13. Cal

  14. Nick

  15. Cal

  16. Nick

  17. Cal

  18. Jen

  19. Cal

  20. Jen

  21. Cal

  22. Jen

  23. Cal

  24. Cal

  25. Jen

  26. Cal

  27. Cal

  28. Nick

  29. Adry

  30. Lucy

  31. Adry

  32. Cal

  33. Jen

  34. Cal

  35. Nick

  36. Cal

  37. Damien

  38. Cal

  39. Jen

  40. Cal

  41. Jen

  42. Cal

  43. Cal

  44. Jen

  45. Nick

  46. Cal

  47. Nick

  48. Cal

  49. Cal

  50. Cal

  Afterword

  Captive

  Foreword

  Acknowledgments

  1. Zelena

  2. Cal

  3. Zelena

  4. Nick

  5. Cal

  6. Zelena

  7. Cal

  8. Zelena

  9. Nick

  10. Cal

  11. Adry

  12. Cal

  13. Zelena

  14. Cal

  15. Adry

  16. Nick

  17. Cal

  18. Zelena

  19. Nick

  20. Adry

  21. Cal

  22. Zelena

  23. Nick

  24. Cal

  25. Zelena

  26. Nick

  27. Cal

  28. Zelena

  29. Adry

  30. Cal

  31. Nick

  32. Cal

  33. Nick

  34. Cal

  35. Zelena

  36. Nick

  37. Cal

  38. Cal

  39. Zelena

  40. Cal

  41. Zelena

  42. Cal

  43. Adry

  44. Cal

  45. Nick

  46. Cal

  Afterword

  Foreword

  Thank you for purchasing Three the fourth Cal Rogan Mystery. At the end of the book there is information about the other books and an offer to join my Launch Team.

  Copyright © 2019 by Robert P. French

  This book is a work of fiction. Characters, incidents, names and places either are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Acknowledgments

  So many people go into the writing of a book and I would like to thank those who helped me with Three.

  A big thank you goes to Sergeant Lyndsay Irwin of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, that wonderful Canadian organization which helps to make this one of the safest countries in the world. She filled me in on some details of police procedure that were really helpful. Any mistakes I made in that area are 100% mine. Thanks too to my good friend Don Siemens for his advice in an area which I won’t mention here because it might be a spoiler.

  Most of all, a thousand thanks to every single member of my Launch Team for your support. You guy’s rock!! I would like especially to thank the following members of the team who helped me hone the plot and whose eagle eyes found errors missed in the proofread. I made some significant changes based on your feedback. You all made this a better book. Alphabetically: Alice Campbell, Andrew Tucker, Beverley Canuel, Cindy Warrick, Connie Charron, Eleanor Andersen, Eva Beaton, Francine Bloom, Gina Hines, Helen Heald, Janet Cline, Jeffrey Benham, Kathy Lindback, Larry Branson, Linda Dimezza, Linda Harbour, Lisa Mauk, Lorraine Garant, Mel Calaby, Reg Allen, Roz Wood, Sheryl Korljan, Sue Ann Kelly, Susan Brauner, Susan Sullivan and Terry Cochran. I apologize if I missed anyone.

  As always, I would also like to thank the Vancouver Public Library for providing the perfect working location for any writer. Every word of Three was written here.

  Dedication

  To my wonderful wife Penny who believed in me when I had stopped believing in myself.

  Tomás

  Monday

  “I have some strange news Patrón.” He has difficulty with the last word. For him Patrón was always my father. He will learn. My father was quite clear that I would be the one to succeed him if anything happened but these people need more than my father’s instructions. They will need to respect and fear me as they did him. Javier, as the number two man in the Santiago organization, is the key. I look at him and give an almost imperceptible nod.

  “Our lawyer says that a man was arrested and charged with the murder of your
father, the politician and the Bookman,” he says.

  I avoid showing any surprise. “That’s not possible. You and I were both on the boat that night. We killed the assassin. Both of us saw his boat explode and sink.” He must be dead. Except for one small thing: our lawyer has always been completely reliable.

  “I told the lawyer that. But…” he shrugs.

  A wave of uncertainty passes through me but he doesn’t see it; I have too much control. We killed the man trying to escape. I’m sure of that but maybe there was more than one assassin.

  “Did the lawyer tell you the man’s name?”

  “Yes Patrón. It’s a strange name: California Rogan.”

  “Get back to the lawyer. Tell him I want to know everything there is to know about Mr. California Rogan. Get our own people on it too. If he was involved in the killing of my father, he’s going to repay the debt with a very high rate of interest.”

  “Yes Patrón, immediately.” The word came more easily to his lips this time. He’s starting to learn I am a worthy successor to head the Santiago empire, perhaps even better than my father.

  He leaves. Now to get back to the task of rebuilding that empire following the loss of our headquarters on Samuel Island. Sadly, we can never return there. But I can rebuild. It’s what I was born to do and trained to do.

  If this California Rogan had a hand in your death, I will avenge you Papa.

  2

  Stammo

  We don’t get a lot of clients looking like this one, that’s for sure. She’s one of the rich ones Rogan’s limey buddy often sends us. Not that I’m complaining; we made a fortune out of that Bradbury woman for finding her kid. And this one looks like she can spare a buck or two. I wonder what she needs us to do. I can’t help noticing her looks. She’s like a model but right now she looks troubled and sad. I smile at Adry and wheel over to where the client’s sitting.

  “Good afternoon. Ms. Summers?” I ask.

  “Mr. Rogan?” she smiles. It’s a real warm smile and it brightens up the whole reception area.

  “No,” I manage to say through the catch in my throat. “I’m Nick Stammo, his partner.” The last word brings the flood of emotions I can’t seem to shake. I push them down. “Cal’s been delayed so I’ll be taking the details of your case.” Delayed, that’s a polite word for it.

  She puts out her hand. “Marly Summers,” she says. Her hand’s cool and slim but her grip’s firm. I find myself wanting to just hold on to it. It’s something steady.

  “Nice to meet you,” I say. “Before we start, would you like a coffee or water?”

  “Do you have tea?” She smiles again and doesn’t seem to be annoyed that Rogan’s not here.

  Before I can ask, Adry gets up from her spot behind the reception desk and says, “We have English Breakfast, Earl Grey and some herbal teas. What would you like?”

  “Earl Grey would be lovely; black please.”

  Adry goes off to our office kitchen.

  “Well, follow me please,” I say, wheeling toward the tiny conference room we use on the odd time a client comes to the office. Rather than follow, she takes an extra step and walks along beside me.

  “Arnold Young spoke very highly of your firm,” she says uncertainly, “I feel rather embarrassed talking to a detective agency.”

  From some people I might not like that sort of talk; it’s like there’s something shady about us. But from her it was said OK.

  I look up at her and smile. “Don’t worry. We’re very discreet. You don’t need to worry that anyone will even know you’ve been here.”

  I wheel up to the conference room door. “After you,” I say. She pushes the door, walks in and holds it open for me. Damn wheelchair. I’d give anything to hold the door open for her, or for anyone for that matter.

  She sits down and smooths her skirt. The movement’s elegant, like her. I need to focus on business now. “How can I help you?” I ask.

  She looks at me for a moment and smiles nervously. “You’ll probably think I’m being very silly,” she blushes.

  “I promise you I won’t,” I say just a bit too quickly, wondering why this woman is making me nervous. “Just tell me what’s worrying you,” I manage to say.

  She smiles again but this time she just looks sad. She pauses for a second or two, takes a breath and then the words tumble out. “It’s my husband. Something’s wrong but he won’t talk to me about it. I think he may be having an affair or maybe I’m just being paranoid. Maybe it’s something at work. I’ve tried so hard to get him to open up and tell me but he insists nothing’s wrong. But I know there is and I need to find out what it is. I need you to find out for me.”

  I can see a hint of tears starting in her eyes. I lean forward and push a box of tissues toward her. We get a few tears in this room.

  “You did the right thing to come to us,” I say. “I doubt he’s having an affair.” I can’t imagine your average man would have an affair if he had her as a wife. I want to tell her this but I know for sure it would come out all bollixed up. Talking to women has never been my strong point. “Tell me what he’s been doing that has you worried.” There’s something in her face I can’t quite read. Maybe this is more than the usual cheating husband case.

  “He’s always worked hard but recently he’s been staying late at the office and sometimes he doesn’t even come home. If I ask him about it, he just says they’re slammed at work and he’s got to put in the hours if he’s going to make partner. He’s a Chartered Accountant.”

  Her words stir up a bit of guilt in me. I said the same stuff to my ex when I was fooling around on her, except it was to make sergeant, not partner. “When he comes home late, does he smell of alcohol?”

  “Sometimes. He usually says he just went for a beer with one of his colleagues. But he’s never drunk. Dale’s not much of a drinker.”

  “Does he ever smell of perfume?”

  She shakes her head. “Never.”

  Nor did I. It makes me wonder if it’s the same thing with Dale.

  “So what makes you think something’s wrong?” Maybe she is just being paranoid. She looks at the box of tissues and takes another one but just holds it in her hand, worrying it with her fingers. Now we’re getting to it and I’m betting I know what she’s going to say. I give her time.

  She’s just about to speak when Adry walks in with coffee, tea and my favourite cookies. Everything’s on a tray with elegant china cups, saucers and plates. Adry made me spring for them. ‘You can’t serve clients out of paper cups or those disgusting old mugs you and Cal use,’ she insisted.

  When Adry leaves, I prompt her, “You were saying…”

  She sips her tea once… then again… then nibbles at a cookie until finally she speaks. “He’s stopped, you know… having relations with me.” I was right. Something must be seriously wrong. She moves the tissue to her face and wipes away a tear trickling down beside her nose.

  “Don’t jump to the wrong conclusion,” I say in an attempt to comfort her. “It may just be the pressure of work. Some of those accounting firms are pretty high pressure places. Sometimes the stress of—”

  “It’s been over a year since he…”

  “Oh… I’m sorry.” It’s all I can think to say.

  She wipes her eyes and blows her nose, then smiles at me but all I can see is her sadness. “Anyway, he hasn’t been home since Thursday morning. I’ve texted him several times and all I got was ‘I’m working’; he hasn’t even replied to the last two. It’s the first time he’s been gone so long.” She takes another tissue. “Yesterday was our fifth wedding anniversary.”

  What a bastard! My heart really goes out to this woman. It makes me wonder if I hurt my ex this much when I was fooling around on her. I hope not. She was no angel herself, probably still isn’t, but nobody deserves this kind of pain. I’m gonna make sure we get everything there is to know on this woman’s husband so she can sue the ass off him.