Sexy Girls

by Gary S. Griffin

  I kept walking. As I rounded the far west end of the park, I spotted a park bench off to the left of the black top path. I slowly walked over and noted that the closest person to me, an elderly lady, had just passed, so her back was walking away from me. The next person was at least a football field away from me. Perfect!

  I pulled out my binoculars and immediately focused on that bumper sticker. At this point, I was about fifty yards from the Honda. The powerful lenses brought these words into focus, “SHOP AT JACK and JILL'S - GRAND OPENING - 917 South College Avenue.” Wonderful! This couldn't be a coincidence.

  Looking closer at the Accord, I noticed on the driver's door the following painted words, “JACK'S ELECTRONICS & HARDWARE.” It looked like Mr. Jack Hostel was a local shopkeeper. I wondered, “Who is Jill?”

  I decided not to approach the house, at least not yet. Instead, I would go visit Jack's on College Avenue. I quickly put the binoculars back in my pant's pocket and started walking again. I thought I saw someone moving inside the living room as I passed, but kept up my steady pace and looked innocently down the path, completing my mile-plus walk back to my rented SUV.

  I pulled out my map and charted my return trip down College Avenue. I wondered if I should stay longer in the park, but realized that the park was emptying. It was 6:40 p.m. On the way out I saw a sign that said the park closed at dark and the realized that would hamper a night-time stake-out.

  I turned right out of the lot and made my way due east. That's what I love about most western towns; the roads were laid out true, east to west and north to south. I drove about three miles east until I intersected College Avenue. Turning right again, I kept my eyes open for 917 South College.

  The first thing I spotted on the right side was Nico's Catacombs, the restaurant where Andi had dinner with the two mystery diners. I was already guessing at their identity.

  I noted that Nico's was in the one hundred block of South College, so I needed to drive about eight blocks further south before I'd reach Jack & Jill's. I continued down this main drag.

  Just north of the Colorado State University campus, I found the Jack & Jill's shops. College Avenue is the main north-south road in town and is especially wide - six lanes in some places. The street is lined with shops, restaurants and food stores and, for an early summer evening, had surprising numbers of shoppers walking up and down the street.

  I drove past the two shops and pulled into to an off-street parking lot that was free after 6 p.m. I parked, locked and started walking back up the street to 917 College Avenue. The two shops were attached to each other on the west side of the street. Jack's was, as advertised, a large hardware store with an electronics section.

  Jill's was a photographer's studio. This shop was only one-fifth the size of Jack's. It was open daily, noon to 8 p.m. A sign said, 'Walk-ins welcomed, Appointments preferred.' I jotted down the phone number.

  Both stores had the same green and white signs and freshly painted woodwork trim around their doors and windows. Also, the two stores had red, white and blue bunting on the windows and large signs announcing, 'Grand Opening.’

  The sign on Jack's door said the shop is open weekdays from 10 a.m. to 8 p.m, Saturday nine to nine, and Sundays from noon to 5 p.m. Since the shop was open, I walked in.

  Jack's extended back about one hundred feet and was six aisles wide. The tall, twelve-foot ceilings added to the big feel. The last two aisles were the electronics stuff. I noted two cashiers and a third person at the front customer service counter. That's where I headed.

  The person at the customer service desk was on the phone. He looked like a graduate student and his badge showed he was Felix Jung, the assistant manager. He was Nordic-looking with long white-blonde hair, pulled back into a ponytail. He wore round, wire-rimmed glasses. Behind Felix were two framed photos of a fierce looking football player. The labels underneath indicated it was Jack Hostel.

  As Felix finished his conversation, I smiled at his unusual name. I thought of Felix Unger from the movie, The Odd Couple. But, no, there was another memory. Felix; I heard that name sometime in the recent past. Then, something clicked in my mind. That was it. I spoke to Felix during my first Colorado adventure. Andi had called Jack's from her hotel room. When I called that phone number, Felix had answered and said he didn't remember her; I bet that was because Andi spoke to Jack.

  Felix had an opened psychology textbook in front of him. He hung up the phone and greeted me. I asked Felix if I could speak to Jack Hostel.

  Felix replied, “I'm sorry. This is Jack's day off. May I help you?”

  “Oh that's too bad, I'm Stevie Garrett and I'm a friend of a friend of his from Philadelphia. I wanted to surprise him.”

  Felix answered, “Hey, that's great. He's away mountain biking in the high country and isn't scheduled to return to town 'til tomorrow night. He'll be in Wednesday. Why don't you stop back then?”

  “Okay, I will Felix.”

  I pointed to the photos of Jack and said, “I didn't know Jack played college football?”

  Felix answered, “Oh yeah, apparently he was very good, thinking of pro ball, until he hurt his knee as a senior at Colorado State.”

  “Really, he played right here at CSU?”

  “Yeah, home town hero.” Felix was getting bored. “Anyway, what else can I do for you?”

  “Do you know Jack's home phone number?”

  I saw Felix hesitate, and quickly thought about it. Finally, after ten seconds, he answered, “Well, it isn't an unlisted number, and since you're a friend, I'll write it down. Hold on.”

  As Felix was doing this, I complimented Felix on the store and said, “I didn't know Jack had this kind of money. Does he own this?”

  “Sure does. He moved back to town two months ago and bought the store from his uncle, Abel Campbell. Mr. Campbell ran this store for thirty years and wanted to retire. Jack decided to keep as much of the hardware inventory that he could, but really wanted to add the electronics stuff as that's his love. He thinks he'll make the most money on security and computer stuff.”

  I repeated my earlier question, “Wow, where did he get that kind of money?”

  Felix started to look wary and I didn't want to push this too far, but, finally he said, “I don't know, but maybe it's from his rich fiancée. I hear her old man is loaded.”

  As Felix told me this answer, he motioned with his thumb to Jill's store.

  “Lucky Jack. Do you mean Jill's place next store?”

  “Yes, plus, they have the apartments upstairs above Jill's. There were two, but they're combining them in to one big place. The construction work isn't done yet, but they're living there anyway.”

  I replied, “So what is Jill's business?”

  “Jill's a photographer. Just starting out in the business from what I hear. But, with her good looks and her daddy's money, she's getting a good crowd in there. It's been busy so far. She's got some kind of Father's Day photo special going on.”

  I asked, “Is Jill from Fort Collins, too?”

  “No, she’s from back east. I think from Philadelphia.”

  “I didn't know her. But, Jack always had great looking chicks,” I commented.

  Felix smiled, and said under his breath, “Yeah, he attracts them.”

  “Felix thanks for the help. I'll stop back Wednesday.”

  I did a quick walk up and down the hardware aisles, but slowed down in the two electronics aisles. Expensive cameras, computers and security equipment were on display, plus, all kinds of wire, attachments and accessories.

  Then, I left Jack's and went into Jill's.

  An electronic bell announced my arrival and I immediately heard a young woman's voice say, “Just a minute.”

  I looked around at the newly decorated waiting room. It had white tile floors, black leather furniture, glass tables piled with photo books and magazines, and a front desk area. A flat screen TV was mounted on the wall displaying a Colorado Rockies baseball game. Pop music floated through t
he air from an unseen stereo. I also noted security cameras on two walls. I could see two photo areas in the back of the store, with the lights on in one of them.

  Out front there was a mother and two sons, I guessed ages four and six, already waiting impatiently. In back I could hear another mother speaking to at least two unseen children.

  I sat down and after three minutes, a young, dark haired woman walked into the waiting room. Jill was in her mid-twenties and about five feet five. She was thin, with shoulder length hair, brown eyes and a natural frown on her face. She wore stylish black clothes; a short-sleeved blouse, tailored slacks and flat-heeled shoes. The first thing she did was look at the other mother and said, “Mrs. Schwab, I should be ready for you in about fifteen minutes.”

  She turned and looked at me, forced a smile and said, “May I help you.”

  I answered, “Yes, are you Jill?”

  She answered, “Yes, I'm Jill Grayson. Who are you?”

  I know two seconds passed before I could respond. I then blurted out, “My name is Stevie Garrett. May I speak to you for a few minutes?”

  Her smile started to wane. “I'm terribly busy. Can you come back another day?”

  Repeating back to her a key word, I told Jill, “It's terribly important that I speak to you briefly. It's about Jack Hostel.”

  That stopped her cold. Her smile was gone. “What's wrong with Jack?”

  “No, nothing's wrong with him. This relates to a matter in Philadelphia. I have some news for him. But, I was just next store and I understand Jack's out-of-town biking?”

  “That's right.”

  “Is it possible to have just a few minutes of your time?”

  Jill sighed, then said, “All right, can you come back just before I close at eight, then we can talk a few minutes.”

  “I'll see you then.”

  I walked out stunned. Could this be Robert Grayson's daughter? I had to do two things, immediately. I needed to speak to Cyndie! But, first, I walked south down the block.

  inside the jackal’s den

  At the corner I turned right and walked to the back alley where I turned right again and headed north. I continued up the alley until I was behind my destination.

  My hopes became reality when I saw the metal fire escape leading from the alley to the two apartments above Jill's photography studio and the greeting card store on the other side of Jill's. The apartment to my right or the south, as I looked up, had a clear plastic sheet over the opening of the removed door. I was shielded by the back-end of Jack's hardware store since it extended thirty feet further back than Jill's store. A blue metal construction dumpster was directly under the fire escape.

  I looked over the edge of the dumpster and saw old plaster, discarded vinyl flooring, the old door, cut pieces of wood and the assorted odds and ends associated with major interior remodeling. It was clear that the contracting crew tossed this debris from top of the fire escape from the plastic hole in the wall.

  I scanned my surroundings and thought this was a perfect time for my plan. The sun was behind the mountains and the last light in the sky was fading. The security lights on the building were not yet lit and there was no one out here in the alley. I could hear shopping sounds inside both stores in front of me, but neither had rear windows overlooking the alley, only shut and locked metal doors.

  I retraced my steps back to College Avenue and re-entered Jack's. I headed straight to the electronics department. After five minutes of careful searching I found what I needed. I was sure Felix Jung did not see me during this second visit to Jack's. With a cash receipt for seventy-four dollars in my wallet and a small plastic bag in my left hand, I exited Jack's and turned south on College Avenue. I stopped at my SUV and got in.

  I pulled out latex gloves from my daypack, put them on, and removed the listening device from its plastic packaging. There were two parts; the transmitter and the receiver. Both required batteries and I inserted the two double-A's in each unit. I read the instructions that said the device could transmit 100 feet, but recommended less than fifty feet for best results. To conduct a quick test I put the receiver on my dashboard and quickly exited the SUV. I walked about fifty feet to the traffic light control box at the corner and discreetly slipped the transmitter on top. A couple was talking and walking towards the corner and I hurried back inside the SUV.

  Even before they reached the intersection I heard the man talking, “…I don't know, what are you thinking for dinner?”

  The woman replied, “Why do I always need to decide…”

  The conversation continued for another twenty seconds until it faded away as they walked further south.

  Perfect! Jack stocked very good equipment in his store. I was ready. I exited the SUV and retrieved the transmitter. My lot was west, behind College Avenue. I faced the back alley behind the shops. Again the alley was deserted. I walked briskly up it a second time.

  I pulled a crushed box out of the dumpster and placed it under the fire escape's ladder and stepped on it. Standing on this make-shift stool I was able to reach up and grab the last rung. It made a fairly loud, metallic screech as I pulled the ladder down. I stopped and looked up and down the alley. No one heard or paid attention.

  The fifteen steps up went smoothly and the twenty foot long and three foot wide landing at the top of the fire escape held my weight without any trouble. I went to the left and tried the door of the north apartment as I wanted to avoid the construction area. It was locked. Now what? Moving to the window I looked in on a furnished kitchen. The kitchen had dented metal cabinets and old-looking appliances. A low-wattage bulb in the stove hood provided the only light. Yet, it provided enough illumination to show that an unfinished pass-through hole had been made in the wall adjoining the south apartment. The pass-through began at waist level and was about three feet square. This hole was covered by another plastic sheet. Through the kitchen door way I could see the living room and street light from College Avenue streaming in the front windows.

  I turned south and went to the clear plastic covering the hole of the removed door. I ducked under the plastic and found a four by eight foot piece of plywood nailed from the inside covering the doorframe. I pushed on it and it yielded.

  I stopped for a moment and considered if I should cross the legal line. I could put the transmitter on the back window ledge, but thought it wouldn't pick up conversations inside the apartment.

  One quick bang with my right shoulder broke the board free and I fell into the south apartment. Luckily, I was unhurt. I got up, lifted the plywood and leaned the board over the back door opening.

  This room was originally the kitchen of the south apartment. However, it was stripped of cabinets, appliances and the vinyl floor. I stood on new hardwood flooring. The falling plywood and I had just missed the new, modern three-light chandelier that hung from the ceiling. Jack and Jill were making this their new dining room. I saw the cut-out pass-through to the kitchen in the north apartment to my left. I walked from the dining room through the doorway into the south apartment's living room. To the right or south was the hallway to the south apartment's two bedrooms and one bath. I quietly walked that way and saw that this entire apartment was empty. The original two bedrooms were being made into one large master suite. The bathroom was in the midst of its remodeling too with expensive, but tasteful, white plumbing pieces (double sink, toilet and shower), accented by blue tile on the walls and tan foot-square ceramic tile on the floor.

  Returning to the living room I saw an eight-foot-wide arch entry way circumscribed in ink on the wall that would connect this room to the living room in the north apartment. I went to the front door in the northeast corner of the south apartment. I unlocked and opened the door and found a small landing that both apartments shared. I turned the north apartment's front door knob. It was locked. The only way into the inhabited north apartment would be through the pass-through in the dining room.

  Retracing my steps, I pushed the plastic of the pass-through and
had to make a decision. Did I want to go into the north apartment? I worried that struggling through the opening would drop white chalk dust from the rough opening onto the north apartment's kitchen floor. When I saw the wall-mounted phone with a small red light in the north kitchen, I decided. I would leave the transmitter here, in the south apartment. I needed to place it on something. I looked around and saw nothing. Then it dawned on me. Leave it on the pass-through ledge between the two apartments. The opaque plastic was nailed to the wall in the kitchen of the north apartment. It would hide the transmitter.

  Before I left the south apartment, I needed a way to reattach the plywood. I wouldn't be able to secure it out on the fire escape. If I left it loose, it might fall in the wind. Plus, it would leak air big time and would reveal itself to Jack and Jill. Somehow, I thought of the obvious.

  After lining up the nails into the wall holes, I used my shoulder again to push the plywood tight to the wall. Then, I unlocked the south apartment's front door, opened it up, relocked it by turning the switch in the center of the inside knob, stepped out onto the landing and pulled the door shut. I quietly walked down the steps, opened the door onto College Avenue and turned south so as not to show myself in front of Jill's store.

  I walked down the street, turned right, walked west a half block to the back alley, and returned to the rear of the shops. I slowly slid the fire escape ladder back up to its original position and tossed the crushed box back into the blue dumpster.

  I took off the latex gloves and stuffed them in my pants pocket. Next, I dialed Jack's home phone number with my cell phone. I let the phone ring twice before I hung up, but not before the transmitter relayed the north apartment's phone chimes to my receiver, loud and clear. Then, I returned to the SUV.