by Marja McGraw
Thick Neck changed lanes. I glanced in my mirrors and saw that traffic was light. I could wait and make a quick lane change if I needed to. He drove a few more blocks and entered the left turn lane. I moved over and slowed down as much as I could without drawing attention to myself.
Thick Neck rounded the corner and I slipped into the turn lane. I waited for a car to get out of the way and turned in time to see him pulling into a grocery store parking lot. I pulled up to the curb and settled in, not wanting to drive into the lot where he might see me.
I had a small pair of binoculars in the glove compartment and retrieved them, trying to get a good look at his license plate. License plate? I mentally smacked my forehead. He had no bumper, consequently, no license plate. I couldn’t see it in his rear window either. I wondered if he’d received any tickets lately. If not, he was a lucky guy.
I once again thought how much easier this would be if Pete was in on it, but I’d been relying on Pete way too much. His experience as a cop made it too easy for me to count on him. I’d been working as a P.I. for just over a year, and many of the things I did were still a learning experience. I had to quit looking to Pete for answers. What if Alan had found his mark? I’d be on my own.
Yes, I’d be on my own. No Pete in my life. No one to care for. No one to care for me. I didn’t like the direction my thoughts were taking. I’d always counted on myself. Self-reliant, that was me. I’d learned to count on Pete too quickly. There was a happy medium, and I had to reach that point. But I couldn’t move past the personal side of our relationship. I could be self-reliant, but I didn’t want to lose Pete. I needed him in my life. We were good together. A shiver snuck up on me. I shook off my dark thoughts and reminded myself that Pete was fine.
Turning back to business, I saw Thick Neck exit the store and place a couple of plastic bags in his trunk after snarling something at a little old lady who was trying to put her groceries in the car next to his. She’d cringed and moved out of his way. He laughed and started the car, and headed for an exit on the cross street.
I slowly entered the parking lot and headed in his direction. He pulled out, turning right. A green car passed the exit, and I fell into line.
Luck was with me. A second car changed lanes and now there were two between us. I’d be okay as long as he didn’t see me and take off. I’d have to look into buying a different car. One with some guts. One that was less visible. Something in a more neutral color. Buying a red vehicle had been a ridiculous purchase for someone in my line of business, and I knew it.
I saw Thick Neck turn right, and the car behind him also turned. I followed along like the good little gumshoe that I am.
Gumshoe. I loved the vernacular of my trade. I sighed. Pete thought it was silly. Pete. I sighed again.
Thick Neck drove another couple of miles and turned into a parking lot for the Pineville Apartments. I drove past slowly, watching to see where he went. A man walked up and began to talk to him as he exited his car, so I knew I had a moment to park. The whole block was made up of apartment buildings. I pulled into the next apartment building parking lot, placing myself behind a truck with a camper shell attached.
Then I did something really stupid. I climbed out of the car and hid behind the truck to try to see which apartment Thick Neck lived in.
“Hey lady! Waddaya doin’ with my truck?”
I cringed. I knew better. A stranger comes around, people want to know what you’re doing there.
“Sorry,” I replied, motioning the man over. I needed to keep him quiet. “I was just admiring your truck.”
I glanced over at Thick Neck, but he wasn’t paying any attention.
An old man approached me. His sallow-colored skin was like leather, sticking to a really scrawny frame. His hair fell in tiny little wisps, and as he closed in I could tell, or rather smell, that he hadn’t taken a shower any time recently.
“Ya like my truck, is that so? Want a ride in it?” He had a lewd and lascivious look in his eyes.
“Uh, no, but thank you. I just wanted to get a closer look at it. You buy this new?”
In the time it took me to glance over my shoulder, the old man had moved in for the kill. I got a better look at him, and he wasn’t as old as I thought. He couldn’t have been over forty-five or so. Must have lived a rough life.
“Aw, come on. You come for a ride with me and we’ll go have a picnic somewhere nice and quiet.” He was so close to my side that I could feel his breath on my ear. Ack! Along with the need for a bath, this guy needed to brush his teeth.
I backed away, right into the side of the truck. He leaned in and placed the palm of his hand by my shoulder.
I ducked under his other arm, which was about to effectively close me in, and headed for my car.
“Another time, pal. I’ve got to get going. My husband and seven kids will be waiting for me at home. Do you think a person could fit seven kids into this camper? They love picnics. In fact, Brutus, Jr. was the result of a picnic.”
“Seven kids?” His face registered horror. “Really?” He was backing away from me.
“Bye,” I said as I climbed into the car and locked the door. Starting the engine, I left in a hurry.
I drove around the block and parked on the other side of Thick Neck’s building. He was nowhere in sight, but I saw a woman placing her trash in a large bin off to the side of the building. I looked around and didn’t see anyone other than the woman, so I decided to take a chance and speak to her.
“Excuse me,” I said, walking up to her.
“Yes?” She looked at me suspiciously. I knew I had to make her my best friend in a hurry.
“Hi. My name is Susan,” I lied. “I wonder if you can help me. I seem to be lost.”
“Oh. Okay. What are you looking for?”
“Um, I was supposed to meet someone, you know, a man, and I thought he said he was in this apartment building.” I pulled a piece of paper out of my backpack and held it where she couldn’t see it, acting as though I were reading an address from it.
“Yeah, this is the place.” I glanced up and read the street number off the side of the building. “I guess I’m not lost after all, but I must have the wrong apartment number.”
“What’s his name?”
Name? Think fast, Sandi.
“I honestly can’t remember. I met him in a bar and we were supposed to go out for a drink.”
The woman tsked at me. “A bar is the wrong place to meet a man, deary.”
“Well, he seemed nice enough. He’s about five-nine, he’s got thinning hair pulled back into a braided ponytail, and he’s got a real thick neck, and – ”
“Oh. You mean Ham Paulson, the jerk in apartment 229.” She wrinkled her nose and glanced at one of the upstairs apartments.
“Ham?”
“It’s a nickname. Has something to do with that thick neck and his hands. Didn’t you notice those ham hock hands of his? You don’t want to get mixed up with that lazy, good-for-nothing bum. He’s nothin’ but trouble – and mean. Trust me.”
“Oh,” I said, trying to sound genuinely grateful. “Maybe it’s a good thing I talked to you before I went up to his apartment. I think I’ll just quietly drive away and forget him. You won’t tell him I was here, will you?”
“Not on your life, missy. Ham and me, well, we don’t talk to each other. He knows I don’t approve of him. You stay away from those bars now, hear?”
“Yes, uh, I think I’ll find something else to do for entertainment from now on.”
“Good idea, Susan.” She patted me on the back and waved as she headed for her apartment.
Okay. Now I knew the guy’s name was Something Paulson, Ham to his friends. If he had any. And I knew he was a mean and lazy good-for-nothing bum who lived in apartment 229. That knowledge didn’t do me a lot of good, but it was a start. I’d also made a friend with the neighbor, which could be a plus later on. I watched to see which apartment she entered.
There were times
when Pete came in handy. I’d be willing to bet that he could get one of his buddies to ticket Paulson for the missing license plate, and fill me in with more information in the process. In the meantime, I decided to sit and watch the apartment for a while. See if anything happened.
I didn’t have long to wait. Ham left his place and knocked on the door of a downstairs apartment. The man who’d spoken to him when he first got home opened the door and they left in the other guy’s white car. The other car I’d seen Ham using. Another piece of the puzzle fell into place.
I wasn’t far behind them when they left the parking lot. I was becoming quite proficient at keeping a car or two between me and them. It didn’t matter too much though, because they were in deep conversation and probably wouldn’t notice me unless I honked at them.
I followed them right back to my own office. Now what? Since I knew the neighborhood, I parked where they couldn’t see me and waited to find out what they’d do next.
Thick Neck, aka Ham, oozed out of the car and, glancing both ways for traffic, crossed the street and headed for my office.
Uh oh. I’d left in such a hurry that I’d forgotten to lock the door.
Chapter Thirty
1897 (One year earlier)
The next day the old man had someone prepare his horse and buggy, and he rode to his wife’s house. He needed to see her, which only happened on rare occasions. She would understand, to a point.
And she did. Merced told him that no matter how she felt about him, she knew he wouldn’t murder a woman. Of course, she reminded him that in her opinion this was the only thing he wouldn’t do.
She straightened her back and sermonized about his lack of respect for women. She couldn’t let that go by without comment. She didn’t know where the strength came from that allowed her speak up to him, but it felt good. The Hispanic culture dictated that women should remain submissive, and under normal circumstances the old man would have lost his temper if she crossed the invisible line. But he wasn’t angry and didn’t try to defend himself.
His very silence caused Merced to relent. They talked for a time. Vincente told her of the steps he’d taken to try to figure out what happened on the night Jessica was murdered. She listened, but didn’t comment.
Vincente left, discovering that he actually felt better. He’d needed to talk it out with someone. His wife might detest him, but she was a good woman and she had listened. He felt an unusual pang of guilt for the way he’d treated her, the way he’d left her, what he’d put her through. He shook it off quickly and easily as he recalled her lecture.
2003
For once I was the observer, not the observed. I was able to get a better look at Ham since neither of us was running or racing away in a car.
He had a thick body, matching his thick neck. I noticed that his arms seemed somehow too long. They swung at his sides like those of an ape. He had a lot of body hair.
He walked to the parking lot and checked for cars. Not seeing any, he continued toward the office. I had the feeling that he’d expected to see one or both of our cars there and had probably decided to see if either of us was in the building.
He reached inside his shirt and pulled something out. A gun? Carefully approaching the window, he peeked in. Not seeing anyone, he headed for the door, but he didn’t enter. I had no idea what he might have done if I’d been there. His shoulders relaxed, and he returned to the car, putting whatever he’d pulled out back in his pocket. If I’d been in the office, would he have tried to force me to tell him where the treasure was? I still thought this was what he wanted.
He and his friend talked for a moment before pulling away from the curb. I waited before following in their wake. I kept as many cars as possible between us.
His friend headed for the freeway. So did I. We drove quite a distance before they took the off ramp leading to the airport. I was stumped. Now what? I continued to follow them, watching as his friend pulled to the curb. I parked as close as I could without being seen, leaving two cars between us.
Ham climbed out of the car. He walked around to the trunk and opened it, pulling out a gym bag. The people in front of me pulled out, waving at someone as they left. There was now only one car at the curb blocking their view of me. I pulled closer to the car so I wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb, and that left me close enough to hear them.
“See you in a few days,” Ham said. “Don’t forget to pick me up.” He waved to his friend and turned to enter the building.
So Ham was leaving for a few days. That would give me a little breathing space, assuming his friend didn’t start following me. I could do some checking up on him while he was gone.
I pulled away from the curb and followed his friend out of the airport, no longer trying to keep him in sight. He turned in the opposite direction he’d come from and didn’t appear to be returning to his part of town. I headed back to the office.
My cell phone rang. I pulled over to the side of the road. “Hello?”
“Hey, Sandi, where are you?” It was Pete.
“I’m just leaving the airport.”
“What are you doing there? I got back to the office and found you gone and the place unlocked.”
“Were you worried about me?” I asked, teasing.
“Actually, I was. What’s going on?”
“I followed Ham to the airport.”
“What about a ham? What are you talking about?”
“The guy who’s been following me. His nickname is Ham, and I followed him to the airport.”
“Fill me in, huh?”
“I’m on my way back to the office right now,” I said. “I’ll tell you the story when I get there. Okay?”
“It’s late. I’ll order a pizza and have it delivered here. We can eat while you tell me what’s going on.”
“See you soon,” I said. I placed the phone on the seat next to me, checked for traffic and drove back to work. Did Pete sound better than he had earlier? I wasn’t sure. I had an overwhelming urge to see him, and the sooner the better.
Traffic was heavy and the drive took about twice as long as it should have. It was over an hour later when I finally drove into the parking lot at the office. Pete’s car was in the lot and I sighed heavily when I walked through the door. I was worried about him. Couldn’t help it.
“Come eat your pizza before it gets any colder,” Pete said. “What took you so long?”
“Traffic was heavy.” I gave Pete a quick kiss before placing a piece of pizza on a paper plate and sitting down at my desk. The smell of the meat and cheese on the pizza caused a sudden, overwhelming feeling of hunger.
I watched Pete while I ate. He looked worn out. I tried not to stare, but I was glad to see him. My joy didn’t last long.
“Sandi, I’ve decided to take a drive up to a friend’s cabin at Lake Tahoe for a few days. I need some time alone.”
“Oh.” I wondered if this was a cop thing or a guy thing. Maybe both. If it were me, I wouldn’t want to be alone. I’d want to be held and comforted. Pete didn’t seem to want that.
“It’ll just be for a couple of days. It’s nothing personal.” He looked directly into my eyes, making me feel that he was willing me to let him cope in his own way.
“I understand.” I felt a letdown. Couldn’t help it. Seems like I couldn’t help a lot of things lately. I realized that unlike me, Pete didn’t want touchy/feely right now. He would internalize everything for a while to deal with what had happened before looking for closeness.
“So what’s this about you going to the airport?” Pete asked.
Starting with my trip to the apartments, I told him most of the story, leaving out the part about him and our seven children, and ending with Ham taking a flight somewhere. I carefully avoided mentioning that Ham might have had a gun.
“I’ve still got some connections at the Department,” Pete said. “I’ll talk one of the guys into taking a look at that car. He’ll be able to come up with an ID and I’ll ask him to ru
n the guy for us. By the time I get back we’ll know more. In the meantime, stay away from there. Ham might be gone, but his friend is still around.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m always careful.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I am.”
“Okay. But do me a favor. Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone. I know how you are, so stay away from this Ham character until I’m here to help out.”
“You won’t have to worry about me since he’s out of town. At least I can take care of some of the research I need to do for my mother without interruptions.” Maybe it isn’t such a good idea to be business partners with the man you care about. He was acting too protective. I can take care of myself, I always have and always will, and he knows it. We’d have to deal with this, but it could wait until he returned. Right now he needed to unwind and pull himself together.
“You okay?” Pete asked.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You had a pretty traumatic day, too. I’m aware of that and I know I should probably be taking you with me, but…” He let the sentence trail.
“Pete, I honestly do understand. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine, and I think it’s probably a good idea for you to get away for a few days. There’s plenty to keep me busy around here. Besides, with the caseload we have, we can’t both be gone at the same time right now. I have several reports I’ve got to take care of and send to clients, and I’ll include invoices. I’ve fallen behind and I need to catch up with business.”
“Thanks for understanding, Sandi.”
“I need to write up a report to submit to Amanda, too. I want everything done by the book on this one. You never know about people. She could turn around and sue us for what he did to her house.”
“Not likely. Back to business, huh?”
I nodded and turned to my pizza.