Chapter 1
“Yo, Campinetti, you still out there Vamp?”
Leonardo Campinetti, one of only two Detectives that work the dead man shift, earning him the moniker ‘Vamp’. The two detectives also run patrol. It's a small town, but covers a massive area, an area of absolutely nothing but heat and rock.
He’s heading home and seriously considers not answering the call, but they all know exactly where he is, and his shift doesn’t end for another twenty five minutes; just long enough for him to get home.
The other one on nights, is the asshole calling him right now. Derrick ‘the Dick’ Masters, self proclaimed. But Leo calls him the ‘Dick’ because he is a dick.
Leo reluctantly picks up the radio.
“What do you want?”
“The boss wants you to check up on something while you’re out that way.”
“I’m heading home, can’t someone else check on it?”
“That’s your neck of the woods brother, it’s all on you,” the man chuckles.
“Funny, there’s not so much as a toothpick within two hundred miles of this damned place.”
“It’s the Ignacio Pepper Plantation.”
“Something else lacking out here,” Leo snarks.
“What’s that?” The Dick is stumped.
“Plantations.”
“Oh yeah.”
“Such an idiot.” Leo mumbles.
“So what is it? A dead coyote on the road, a possum on the half shell give somebody a flat?”
“A murder.”
“Yeah right. There’s no reason to kill anybody out here except for a morbid sense of humor,” Leo wipes the sweat from his brow even with the air on high.
“Yep, the old man. His granddaughter found him dead this morning.”
Damn, Leo thinks, that had to have been hard on the kid.
“Yeah, okay. Where’s it at?”
“Hell’s Gateway.” the dick replies.
“You have got to be kidding me? Can’t anything grow out there!”
“Well, evidently peppers can!” the ass laughs.
Fuck.
“Send me the coordinates, I’m on the way.”
Leo knew he shouldn’t have answered that call. He was almost home, home to his cave, deep under the ground, where it was immensely cooler even during the heat of the day.
His home is actually a cavern that was reconstructed by a very wise man, living in this part of the country. A hundred feet below ground in some places. The old man also did a bit of gold mining down there, reportedly getting a fair share. Leo has dabbled in it, but only found a bit of dust. Something to look forward to in his retirement.
You would think being raised up in the swamps of Louisiana, he would be accustomed to the sweltering heat, but this, this is something else all together.
And Hell’s Gateway, is possibly the hottest place on the planet. The landscape in that area is dead and barren, not so much as a tiny cactus grows out that way, just rock and more rock.
The coordinates come through and Leo sets his route, whipping the truck around and heading back the way he just came from.
He always rides the white line, it seems the blackness sucks the light from his headlights, as he speeds down the highway. It’s not like he couldn’t see someone coming the other way.
About ten miles out, he pulls into an all night diner, its eerie neon lights glowing a sickly green in the night. Pulling up, there are two long distance haulers parked haphazardly in the so called parking lot, in actuality it’s just an extension of the barren desolate ground that surrounds the place.
The tiny bell above the door calls out its warning that someone has just entered.
“Leo? What are you doing back? I figured you’d be tucked away by now,” a plump woman in her fifties, calls out to him as he flops down on a stool at the counter.
“Yeah me too Delores. Can I get a cup of coffee and get my cooler loaded?” Leo sits a small cooler on the counter, she quickly whisks it away.
“Sure thing darling.”
While he waits for her to serve him, he looks over at the two haggard drivers sitting at a table, gobbling down their food as if starved. He has eaten here before, the food is not that good, but to each their own.
“So, why are you back?” Delores offers him a tired smile.
It seems everything in this part of the world is tired.
“Got a call. You ever heard of the Ignacio Pepper Plantation? Out in Hell’s Gateway?” he sips the hot bitter brew in front of him, wincing, more from the taste than the heat.
“I’m not really sure. Seems like some years ago there was mention of somebody buying up the land out that way. Be damned if I’d go anywhere near that place, hear tell it’s cursed.” she frowns at the thought.
“I’ve been out there once before, I can see why. How much do I owe you?” Leo reaches for his wallet.
“On the house, you’re gonna need it.”
Leo slowly stands, taking the coffee and his cooler, he nods at the two drivers now watching him.
Even with his lean build, he is sweating profusely by the time he reaches the truck.
Hell’s Gateway. If Lucifer himself lived in the Devil’s Kitchen he would have this gate locked tight to keep the heat out. There’s an invisible line drawn in the dirt, indicating the entry into Hell’s Gateway, the temperature seems to rise substantially from one side to the other.
Leo can see the demon’s of hell playing in the weak beams of his headlights, rising up in the heat waves from the surface of the road even in the blackness of night. In the distance, he sees a faint blue glow, he’s getting close.
The closer he gets, the brighter the lights become, the flashing stabs into his vision after being in the blackness for so long, he has to squint to make out the chaos in front of him. Rolling to a cautious stop, an ambulance flies past him, adding their red lights to the mix.
There are three patrol cars and the Coroner’s truck in attendance.
Sighing heavily, Leo grabs his badge from the dash, clipping it to his sweat drenched jeans and picks up the crumpled, still damp shirt from the seat next to him, stepping out, he gives it a whip, putting it on, but leaving it unbuttoned as he takes long strides to the gates of the property.
He takes note that all the officers are in uniform, just not in uniform, their shirts are open as well, over the white wife beaters flashing blue in the lights.
“Can we turn these damn lights off?” Leo barks to nobody in particular.
“Yes sir!”
The lights slowly start to shut down.
“Right this way,” one points in the direction of the crime.
“How far?” he growls, feeling the sweat dripping from his brow, even though he can see the portable lamps up ahead.
“Right here Leo!”
Rebekka Costco, another transplant a few years back, ironically she hails from Alaska, if that ain’t a real slap in the face. A remarkably beautiful woman to be in such a morbid profession.
Everyone learned to steer clear of her beauty when she made an example of “The Dick” about two years ago. He hounded her constantly about going out and she pointedly put him in his place, she damn near ripped his balls off! Leo still gets a smile on his face when he thinks about that day.
Even though they have hooked up a few times over the years, it is still more of a working relationship. And here she stands in a tank top, no bra, short cut-offs and steel toed boots. There's a rats nest of hair bouncing around on top of her head, but still beautiful.
“Happy Birthday Bekk.”
“Yeah, it was, until I got blasted out of bed after partying all night.”
“Have a good time?”
“Oh yeah! It was a hoot and a holler!”
“Beer and B rated horror films again?”
“You know me so well, it was the best date I’ve ever been on,” She chuckles.
Leo squats, looking at the empty rectangle marked out on the ground with markers and string. They don’t paint or tape out the shape of the body on the ground, not that he ever believed they did, he’s never seen it in his twenty plus years on the force.
“I’m guessing that was my guy that just left?” he thumbs over his shoulder.
“We were fighting the flies off with bats, it was either that or leave a slick of ooze waiting for you to get here.”
“How dare you speak so disrespectfully about my grandfather!”
Okay, one, Leo damn near pissed himself at the outburst. Two, if this was the granddaughter, how old was the bastard that just left and three, she was pissed, beautiful, but extremely pissed!
“Ms Ingacio I presume,” he nods at her.
“Then you would presume wrongly!” she snaps, damn she has a bite, Leo thinks to himself.
“I apologize Mrs Reeves, sometimes I forget my surroundings, it just comes with the job I’m afraid. Detective Campinetti, this is Mrs Irene Reeves, the victim’s granddaughter, she’s the one that found him.” Bekk reports.
“If you’ll excuse me.” Bekk walks away with a grin on her face
“I’m sorry for your loss Mrs Reeves. Can you tell me why he was out at this hour, more so, why were you?”
“We always meet before sunup to do the harvest, it makes the peppers sweeter.”
“Peppers, sweet? Bit of an oxymoron wouldn’t you agree?”
“It’s a term, detective. It means the Capsaicin is stronger in the cooler temperatures, before the heat of the day dulls the fire.”
“And you said you always met here?” he points at the ground.
“Yes.”
“Was he expecting anyone else this morning?”
“No, only me.”
