“Is there a reason you didn’t open the door immediately?” Nick flashed his badge.
Leonard looked at his feet, turned crimson, then looked at Nick, but not in the eye. “Bad timing?”
How ironic.
Nick looked skeptical. “Do you mind if we come in?”
“No,” Leonard opened the door fully. “Sorry, I’ve been working and the place is a bit untidy.”
I stepped into the house and Nick followed. I only wish my house was this untidy.
The décor was simple, like a bachelor in an apartment. According to the records Mr. Crowhopper owned this house, but it barely looked lived in. There was a sofa, loveseat, and a chair, all of black fabric, centered around a simple glass topped coffee table. No art on the walls, no throw pillows, not even a magazine. I could see why he apologized for the mess, as there was a microwave dinner on the coffee table, along with a glass of milk and a plate of brownies.
“What do you do for a living, Mr. Crowhopper?” Nick asked, as he took in the sparse décor.
“I work for an Internet security company.” He sounded proud. “Please, my name is Leonard.”
“Thanks, Leonard. I’m Nick Christianson, and this is Mimi Capurro.”
Leonard took a better look at me. “Oh, hi, we met…well, you know when.”
“Do you drive all the way to the Silicon Valley to work every day?”
“Not anymore. I telecommute, which is much easier and a lot less expensive with the price of gas these days.” Leonard waved us into the living room. “Please, sit.”
We both sat on the loveseat - how quaint.
“What exactly do you do for this Internet security company?” Nick sat at the edge of the seat, looking ready to bolt at any moment.
“I find holes.” He waved his hands in the air. “I find back doors, security leaks, holes in the system, then I sell the companies a patch.”
“So you’re a hacker?” That’s what it sounded like to me.
“Oh no, I have permission to look. Major companies hire our company to find the security weaknesses. So yes, I’m a hacker, but I have permission.”
“So being nosy is your business,” Nick stated.
“I guess so.” Leonard grinned at this.
“And maybe you’re nosy about more than just computer security?”
Leonard crossed his arms over his chest. “Meaning?”
“I have a picture or two of you peeking into your neighbor’s backyard during his get-togethers.” Nick handed him a copy of one of the pictures Charles had provided.
Leonard looked at the photo carefully. “Where did you get this?”
“From William’s computer.”
“And did you see what else is on that man’s computer?” Leonard uncrossed his arms and leaned forward.
“You’ve seen William’s computer?”
“Fine, I’ll admit it, I’m nosy. I’m not sure William should be having any BBQ parties with young girls in his backyard.”
Now Nick was mirroring Leonard and leaning in. “So you have seen what’s on the computer?”
“Why don’t you ask his sister?” Leonard avoided looking at Nick. He played with the brownie on the plate.
“I’m asking you.”
“I may have gotten a glimpse, but I haven’t looked at it. That would be an invasion of privacy.” Leonard picked at the crumbs on the plate. “Talk to the sister.”
“What does William’s sister know?” I asked, wanting to slap his hand away from the brownies.
“I’m not sure how she knows, but it’s like radar. Every time there’re young girls at William’s house, she shows up. And not long afterward, the girls leave. When his daughters visit, she’s there the whole time.”
This was news.
Nick seemed intrigued. “Just how often do you watch what’s happening next door?”
Leonard laughed, warily. “I work from home. I’m single, and I get bored very easily. Most of my hacking is done at night. In the daytime, I snoop. Not anything illegal, like with cameras or telescopes, but I look and listen.”
“Were you listening the day William Garrison was killed?”
“I was not.” Leonard gave Nick his full attention. “But I did see William’s sister arrive at the house that morning. I’m not sure if William had left for work yet, as he usually parks his car in the garage, but I didn’t see him leave.”
“Did you see or hear anything?” Nick leaned his elbows on his knees as he listened.
“I did not.” Leonard thought a moment. “Well, there was the slamming door.”
“What door?”
“It sounded like the front door.”
“Who was it?”
“I’m just not sure. I was, um, indisposed when I heard it. It was quite a disturbing interruption.”
I smiled.
Nick grinned. “I’m sure it was. Could it have been William’s sister?”
“Could’ve been. She was the only person I saw at the house that day.”
I was sure he was lying. What about when Jackie was there? And when Charles and I were snooping about?
“Really?” Nick sounded like he thought the man was lying, too.
“I’d gone to the store right after I went to the bathroom. And I’d just gotten home when the police had swarmed the neighborhood. You can ask the patrol officers who came to question me that afternoon.”
“So you just happened to miss the biggest thing to happen in your neighborhood?” I just couldn’t keep quiet any longer.
Leonard looked at me. “I know. Dumb luck.” Then he considered. “If you want to know anything about that killing, I suggest you talk to William’s sister. She was on him like white on rice, and not in a loving way. I think she was really mad at him for something.”
Nick stood. “Here’s my card. If you think of anything, please call me.”
“Thanks, but I just don’t have anything to tell. Damn, something this juicy and I miss out. After all the years I’ve been watching William, I miss out.”
Nick and I headed to the front door.
“Mind if I ask you a question?” Leonard sounded sheepish.
“Well, you’ve answered all of mine,” Nick said.
“If it was the sister who killed William, and she was protecting someone, would it be considered self-defense?”
“That’s for the courts to decide.”
I asked a question I wondered why Nick didn’t ask. “Have you ever seen any young girls, say fourteen or fifteen, go into William’s house?”
Leonard perked up. “Sure, all the time. He had daughters, you know.”
Nick asked, “Other than his daughters?”
I wondered why Nick didn’t describe Tiffany.
“I guess. I mean his daughters had friends.” Leonard led us to the door.
“What about when the daughters weren’t around?”
Leonard opened the door, nearly rushing us out. He contemplated a moment. “Probably. Maybe. Could be.”
“Is that a yes, Leonard?” Nick’s impatience getting the better of him.
“I’d have to say, maybe, yes.”
“Do you have a number where I can reach you?”
“Sure, why?” He reached in his pocket and handed Nick a business card. “The second one is my cell number.”
“I may have a few more questions, but I don’t want to bother you anymore tonight.”
“No bother,” Leonard said, as he shut the door.
42
“Now what?” I asked. “Do you think Stephanie killed William?”
“I wouldn’t blame her. But I don’t think Leonard is telling us all he knows.” Nick said as he flipped open his notepad.
“Well, she did say she should have. Maybe she did.”
“I’m not sure she looks like a murderer.” He scribbled something down. “Not that a murderer has a look.”
Just then, my phone rang. I looked at the caller I.D. and held my finger up for Nick to wait. “Give me just a sec
. I need to answer this.”
He pointed to the car and headed that way. I stayed on the sidewalk.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“That’s what I was going to ask you.” Charles sounded harried.
“We just left Leonard Crowhopper’s house. Something doesn’t seem right about him. I feel like he’s hiding something.” I kept my voice down, so Nick couldn’t hear.
“You think he killed Garrison?” I could almost feel Charles’s radar beeping.
“Not that so much, but that he knows something he’s not telling us.” Then I got an idea.
“You want me to keep an eye on his place tonight?” Charles took the words right out of my mouth.
“Have I told you lately how much you scare me?”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Charles hung up.
I assumed he and Sebastian had finished eating, and that my vampire boy was gone, because Charles would never leave him in my house alone.
I walked back to the car, and saw Nick staring intently at me. I quietly took off the police jacket and vest, and got into the passenger seat.
“What was that all about?” He tried to act nonchalant.
“It was Charles being nosy. He’s coming over to keep an eye on Leonard. I just thought maybe it was best not to let him out of sight for too long.” I settled in and buckled my seatbelt.
“Something really did strike you about that guy, didn’t it?” Nick drove away from Leonard’s house.
“I don’t know what it was, but I’ll bet he’s nosy and knows more than he’s letting on.”
“Uh-huh,” Nick mumbled. “Still hungry?”
“Sure.”
I expected we’d zoom through one of the myriad of drive thru restaurants in town, but Nick drove toward the community college. There weren’t any quick service restaurants in this area, but there was a coffee shop and a bagel place. Even more surprising, he turned down a residential street. I can’t tell you the name, to protect his privacy, but I’ll tell you the driveway he pulled into was in front of a quaint little beige cottage.
“New restaurant in town?” I couldn’t help myself.
Nick parked in front of the detached two-car garage. “My house.”
I suppressed a smile, but my heart was beaming. I couldn’t believe I was going to see the inside of Nick Christianson’s house. I felt like we were in college again, and he’d invited me back to the frat house. And in reality, frat house was what I expected when I walked inside. Nick was never known for his housekeeping skills.
Nick opened a gate in the side yard, next to the garage, and held it until I walked through. I was treated to a landscape architect’s wet dream. Under my feet were two by two cement pavers stained in various colors of brown and gray, and beyond the pavers, a geometric pattern of smaller pavers amongst the pea rock.
I could see six raised gardens evenly dividing the rocks, and a line of neatly trimmed evergreens along the fence line. And just when I thought I couldn’t be more amazed, I saw a several rows of garden vegetables planted along one of the walls of the house. The bottom row looked like herbs, with the next row resembling onions or chives, and the top row was butter, red leaf and green leaf lettuce. I stood in awe.
Nick walked right by me and unlocked the back door. “You coming?”
“Not yet…”and I meant that in so many ways.
He left me standing there and went into the house.
When I got over my shock of seeing his immaculate yard, and homegrown veggies, I went inside.
Let me just say, he’d come a long way since his college days.
The door he’d opened led into a small galley kitchen. There wasn’t even a toaster on the counter, much less dishes in the sink. The kitchen had honey oak cabinets with textured glass windows, flesh colored granite countertops and backsplash. The stainless steel appliances made the space scream bachelor pad. I was suddenly ashamed I’d ever let Nick in my less than tidy house.
Before I knew it, Nick had left the room and come back wearing shorts and a v-neck white t-shirt. Kitchen, what kitchen? At that moment all I could see were Nick’s broad shoulders and the way his tawny biceps filled out his shirt.
“Make yourself at home.” He pointed toward the next room. “I’m going to grab some lettuce and herbs from the garden and make us a couple of salads. Do you like salmon?”
I think I was still mesmerized by his torso because I just nodded. I went to the dining room to sit on one of the bar stools that lined the breakfast bar along the wall. This room was light and airy, and the décor complimented the kitchen. Masculine, but something any woman would love to have in her home.
When Nick came back in, I’d come to my senses and asked, “Can I help with anything?”
“Yeah, over in the corner there is a wine fridge. Grab the bottle of Louis Roederer Cristal Brut.”
He said this as if I was grabbing an ordinary bottle of sparkling wine.
“Champagne?” He had to be kidding.
“Why not? I think it’ll be great with the salads.” Nick had already begun chopping and slicing.
“Can we say overkill?” I was sure he was showing off because of the package Sebastian had sent.
“Mimi, really, stop over-analyzing and open the damn bottle.”
Fine. I mean, who was I to turn down a nice bottle of champagne? I went over to the wine refrigerator and found the bottle. Only it wasn’t just one bottle, he had five. And I won’t even bore you with the other labels I spied while I snooped.
Under my breath, I said, “Who knew?”
“Huh?” He brought the plates over to the dining room table.
“I thought you didn’t drink.” This made no sense to me.
“I don’t.” He placed a bottle of San Pellegrino in front of one plate, and an empty (chilled, I might add) flute in front of the other plate.
“I’m not going to drink alone. I’ll have Pellegrino, too.”
Nick surprised me again by leaning over and kissing me on the forehead. “It’s not well known that I’m in recovery, so people give me expensive wine all the time. Someone has to enjoy it.”
Just then something possessed me, and I was done playing games. I didn’t want the damn champagne. I didn’t want the stupid salad. I wanted Nick.
“I’m not really hungry or thirsty,” I said. And the next thing I know, I took a leap of faith, stood on my tiptoes and kissed Nick on the mouth.
Nick pushed me away. “What about Sebastian?”
My phone vibrated with a text message. I had to check it.
“What about him? Let me rephrase that: The ball is in your court. It’s either you or Sebastian, but you have to tell me right this moment.”
“Why is that?” Nick took another step away from me.
“Because this is a text message from him.” I shoved my phone at Nick.
He pushed it back to me without looking at it. “Look Mimi, I have things…”
I rolled my eyes. He always had “things.”
“Hear me out.” He stepped closer and grabbed my hands. “I don’t know what I have to offer anyone, but I’m willing to offer you one day at a time. If that’s good enough for you, then we can see where this goes. If it’s not, then I’ll put these salads in the refrigerator, and give you a ride to wherever you want to go.”
I looked at the phone, then at Nick. His piercing blue-gray eyes melted me, just like an iceberg in global warming. I put the phone away, grabbed the salad plates and the Pellegrino, and put them in the fridge. Then I took Nick by the hand and navigated my way to his bedroom.
I heard him say, “Are you sure about this?”
It’d been way too long for me to question whether or not I was sure about anything. I just knew I needed to have sex, and Nick seemed like a good candidate.
I’m pretty sure we hadn’t been in the bedroom for a full minute when I heard a familiar sound.
“You have got to be freaking kidding me!” I was nearly shouting.
; “Just answer it.” Nick rolled over onto his back.
My cell phone rang, then Nick’s, then mine again. I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed my phone. “What!”
“Are you with Nick?” It was Charles.
“Why?” I was irritated and I didn’t care who knew.
“Oh, no. This is really bad timing, isn’t it?”
The words were sincere enough, but the chuckle in his voice didn’t sound like he cared that he was interrupting.
“What is it, Charles?” I nearly spat the words.
“You’re going to kill me, but I need you to come right now.” The chuckle was gone.
I sat straight up. “What’s going on?”
“You said to keep an eye on Leonard. Well, I followed him when he left his house. You are never going to believe where he went.”
“Where?” I was already out of bed and putting my shoes on. Yes, just my shoes.
“To some barn, I think it belongs to Stephanie.” The name hung in the air.
“Are you there now?” I asked Charles. Then to Nick I said, “We’ve gotta go.”
Nick was out of bed, dressed, and pulling on his shoulder holster. He grabbed his keys and I kept talking to Charles as we headed out to the car.
“Not anymore. I’ll text you the address so you can put it in Nick’s navigation system.”
Charles disconnected, and I had a text a moment later. I looked at it, then at Nick. “Prunedale?”
43
If you’ve never been in a cop car with the lights and siren on, cruising along at 110 miles per hour, I’m here to tell you, it’s a rush. It’s also scary as hell, but I just white knuckled it with my seatbelt firmly in place, and prayed like I’ve never prayed in my life. “Dear God, please let Nick know what the hell he’s doing and not get us in a wreck.” Not sure He was listening, but we did make the turn off at San Miguel Canyon Road in record time with a clear path in front of us.
Nick turned off the lights and siren when we turned off San Miguel Canyon Road to a small street. He slowed to a crawl as we looked for Charles’ car. Even though we hadn’t reached the address sent in his text, I saw his car parked on the shoulder of the road. Knowing how much Charles loves his car, I knew this had to be important, because it had to be life or death for him to leave the Spyder on the shoulder.
Gotcha Detective Agency Mystery Box Set Page 34