The Third Fan: A Reed Ferguson Mystery (A Private Investigator Mystery Series - Crime Suspense Thriller Book 9)

Home > Other > The Third Fan: A Reed Ferguson Mystery (A Private Investigator Mystery Series - Crime Suspense Thriller Book 9) > Page 17
The Third Fan: A Reed Ferguson Mystery (A Private Investigator Mystery Series - Crime Suspense Thriller Book 9) Page 17

by Renee Pawlish


  He let out a derisive noise. “What, do I look like a detective? I searched your name on the Internet.”

  “And you came here and broke in,” I said. “Add that to your list of crimes.”

  “I didn’t break in,” he said. “I showed up here, just as your lovely girlfriend came home. I said I was looking for you and she asked me to come inside and wait.”

  I stole a look at Willie. Her eyes held apology in them, as if to say she shouldn’t have fallen for his lie.

  It’s okay, babe, I thought. You didn’t know.

  I held out my hands, showing I had nothing to hide. “I’m here. What are you going to do? Shoot her?” Willie flinched. “Shoot me?” I said. “You don’t want to do this, Gil. I know everything. You’ve already killed two people. You don’t want to add more to the list.”

  “You don’t know squat.”

  Keep him talking, I thought. “I know about the steroids, how you and Pete started selling them to other athletes.” His eyes narrowed slightly. I was right. “I know about Maggie Hollenbaucher. She was involved with Pete, and then Greg Revis. And after you killed Pete, you started to work with Greg.”

  “Aren’t you the clever one.”

  I glanced at Willie, and for once in my life, I had no snappy comeback. “Pete was going to expose you, wasn’t he? That’s why you killed him.”

  His lips twisted into a sneer and he waved the gun at me. “Yeah, the punk. When I found out he was supplying Charlie with steroids, I told him we should start working with others, that we could supply more athletes, some that I represented. We’d both make a lot of money.”

  “Him from selling the steroids, you by getting your players better contracts.”

  He nodded. “As long as the players performed well.”

  “It’s a risk.”

  “Some of the players would do better.”

  “Enough to make you money and help you land more clients, some who wouldn’t be using steroids.”

  “It’s already happening,” he said. “I’m representing a couple of guys who are doing really well and they’re about to sign big deals.”

  “But Pete screwed it up,” I said.

  “Yes.” He gripped the gun tighter and I saw Willie stiffen. I took a small step forward, but he didn’t notice. He kept talking. “He wanted too much money. I told him no way, that I’d find another supplier. We argued about it for days.”

  “And then you killed him,” I said

  One more tiny step. Willie shifted and Gil pulled her back.

  “Don’t move,” he said to her. Then to me, “It was an accident.”

  “An accident?” I had to work hard to keep the contempt out of my voice. I didn’t want to piss him off. “You had Charlie’s gun and you shot him in the back.”

  “Yes, I had Charlie’s gun. But not because I was going to use it to kill Pete,” he said.

  “What happened?”

  I started to move forward again and the gun came up, so I paused.

  “That idiot Charlie kept showing off his gun during parties. I kept telling him that wasn’t smart, but he wouldn’t listen. The other night, he had the gun out and he left it on the bed. Can you believe that, leaving a loaded gun on the bed with all those people around? I took the gun to teach him a lesson. Stuck it right in my pocket and Charlie never noticed. I was going to give it back and then…” His voice trailed off.

  “Instead, you shot Pete with it.”

  I slipped a foot forward, moving just a bit closer.

  “I didn’t mean to. It just happened.” Anger crept into his voice. “I had it with me the next night. I was going to give it back to Charlie, and I didn’t want to leave it in the car. But I went to Pete’s place first. I wanted to convince him that he’d make plenty of money with me, but he said he didn’t trust me anymore. We argued and he finally said he was going to let everyone know what I was doing.” His voice grew louder. “I didn’t even think of the gun until I felt it in my pocket. I took it out and threatened him. I said he couldn’t back out now, that he had to keep his mouth shut. He laughed at me and said I didn’t have the guts to shoot him, and that I’d never get inside a locker room again. Then he turned around and started to go into the kitchen.” He swallowed hard. “I…I saw red and then the gun went off and he was lying on the floor. I panicked, dropped the gun and ran.”

  It sounded too pat, as if he’d already been thinking through his defense strategy, but it was still an admission of guilt. And Willie and I both heard it. Let Spillman and the DA make the case against him.

  “But Maggie’s murder didn’t ‘just happen’ ” I said. “She knew about you, didn’t she?”

  He nodded. “You were on her trail, and I couldn’t afford to have her talking to you. Hell, she’d lead you right back to me.”

  Something else occurred to me. “Who beat me up?”

  “I hired someone to scare you off.”

  “It didn’t work.”

  He snorted. “It doesn’t matter now, does it?”

  “Two lives lost and for what?” I shook my head in disgust. “So you could protect your career.”

  “You should be careful,” he said. He took the gun and pressed the barrel into Willie’s cheek. “I’ve killed twice. I can do it again.”

  “Like you trying with the third fan,” I said. “The one who saw you at Pete’s apartment the night you killed him. When I ran into you outside Charlie’s building the other night, you were looking for her, right? But you had to cover that fact, so you said you were visiting him. Only he wasn’t expecting you.”

  He jammed a finger at me. “And I wasn’t expecting you, either.”

  “And Charlie pointed her out to you, served her up on a platter. And you were going to kill again.”

  “I still might kill you,” he threatened.

  I took another tiny step forward, but Willie gave me a slight shake of her head. She was right. I couldn’t risk going after him when he had the gun pointed at her. Damn! I felt so helpless.

  “You don’t want to hurt us,” I said, marshaling all the calm I could. “The cops are looking for you now. There’s no place to go.”

  “Yes, there is.”

  “Where?”

  “You’re going to drive me west.”

  “What’s west?”

  “I’ve got a friend who’s going to meet us. He’s heading from California now.”

  “That’ll take time,” I said. “And people will know my car.”

  “Let me worry about that.” He gestured with the gun. “Let’s go.”

  “What about Willie?” I asked.

  At first he looked confused, and then he realized who I meant. He glanced at her. “Willie, huh? Willie can stay here. Someone will find her eventually.”

  “But –” I started to protest.

  “She was kind enough to find some twine,” he interrupted. I glanced at the dresser, where a roll of rough, brown twine lay next to bottles of perfume and jewelry. “I tied her hands behind her. But we’ll have to tie her to the bed so she can’t run.”

  He took a step forward and reached for the twine with his free hand. And that was his mistake. He took his focus off Willie for just a second, and she launched herself up off the bed. She hit him in the side with her shoulder. They crashed into the dresser, and the twine, bottles and jewelry scattered. At the same time, I leaped forward and grabbed Gil’s arm.

  He snarled as he fought to bring the gun up, but I pushed his arm away. We grappled in the small space between the dresser and the bed. Willie had fallen to the floor, her hands still behind her back, and she struggled to get to her feet. Then Gil and I backed into her and we toppled to the floor. A loud crack split the confines of the room and Willie let out a muffled scream. I lost it.

  “No!” I roared.

  I had fallen onto Gil’s legs. He was pushing me off, but I hauled a fist back and then punched him so hard his head snapped back and hit the side of the dresser with a resounding thunk. His eyes rolled
up into his head and he sank to the floor. He groaned. I hit him again and he lay still.

  “Willie!” I shouted.

  She had fallen behind me. I turned around and scrambled over to her. She was on her side and was moaning through the sock in her mouth.

  “Oh no,” I said as I cradled her in my arms. “Are you hit?” I pulled the sock out of her mouth and searched for blood.

  “No, I’m not hit,” she growled, “but my arms are killing me.”

  I quickly untied her hands. I was so relieved, I was speechless.

  “Hon,” she said, as she spat and gagged.

  “Yes?”

  “That was one of your dirty socks.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  I planted a huge kiss on her lips. “Oh man, for a second I thought I lost you.”

  “I’m okay.” She sat up and flexed her arms. “Reed, I’m sorry. When he showed up, I thought it was fine to let him in. I didn’t know what was going on.”

  “How could you?” I said. “I’d only put the pieces together myself a little while ago.” Behind me, Gil moaned. I whirled around. “Let’s get him tied up.”

  I stood up and helped her to her feet. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She pointed at Gil. “Those were a couple of nice punches.”

  I rubbed my knuckles. “Yeah, I can still feel it.”

  We knelt down beside Gil. I started to grab his arms and he tried to crawl away. I rammed my knee into his back.

  “Ow!” he barked.

  “Sit still.”

  He started to struggle and then Willie spoke up.

  “If you move a muscle, I’ll shoot you.”

  He craned his neck to see, and so did I. Over my shoulder, Willie had Gil’s gun aimed at him. And she looked like she would use it.

  Gil went still and I grabbed the twine off the floor.

  “He had a pocketknife to cut it,” Willie said.

  I felt around in Gil’s pocket, found the knife, sliced off a long piece of twine and tied his hands up in my best Boy Scout knot. Then I rolled him over, stood up and surveyed my work. He glared up at me as I caught my breath.

  “You’re dead!” he snarled.

  “Shut up,” I said. I was not in the mood.

  “Should we put your dirty sock in his mouth?” Willie suggested.

  That cut through the tension in the room and I burst out laughing. Then I took the gun from her. I stepped back and aimed the gun at Gil. “Call the police,” I said to Willie.

  ***

  After Willie called 911, two uniformed officers showed up within minutes. They placed Gil under arrest and were escorting him downstairs when Detective Spillman and her cohorts, Ernie Moore and “Spats” Youngfield, arrived. Moore and Youngfield followed the officers outside to accompany Gil to the station, and we were standing with Spillman in the living room. The last part of Cape Fear was on, where Sam Bowden was fighting with Max Cady. I knew the feeling. I grabbed the remote and turned off the TV.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Willie asked. She was a bundle of nerves.

  “Water would be great,” Spillman said. “Let’s go into the kitchen.”

  We walked into the kitchen. I stared at Spillman, then realized she was trying to put Willie at ease.

  “Are you doing okay?” Spillman asked her.

  “Yes,” Willie said as she got a bottle of water from the fridge. The bottle shook as she handed it to Spillman.

  “Sit down,” Spillman said to her. It was an order, but Spillman had softened her voice and it didn’t sound like an order at all.

  Willie slumped into a chair at the table and I took a seat next to her. I pulled my chair close and put my arm around her.

  Spillman eyed Willie, as if assuring herself that Willie was okay, then she sat down across from us and focused on me. “Start at the beginning.”

  I ran through everything, starting with my initial conversation with Charlie. I was careful not to say that he’d admitted to using steroids, but I’m sure she knew. Then I pieced together my logic.

  She waited until I finished, and then said, “And how did you know about this ‘third fan’, as you call her, Trisha?”

  “A neighbor of Pete’s mentioned seeing her, but I didn’t follow up on it initially,” I said.

  Spillman tapped the table and assessed me. She always knew when I was holding something back.

  “And Gil admitted what he’d done to both of you,” she said.

  Both Willie and I nodded.

  “I’m sure you’ll have to testify,” Spillman said.

  Willie smacked the table. “Absolutely.” She was intent on nailing Gil for what he’d done to her, and who could blame her?

  The corners of Spillman’s mouth rose into the hint of a smile. “Can you get your friend to bring Trisha Appleton to the station so I can talk to her?”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  She stood up. “I’ve got to go talk to Charlie.”

  Willie stayed seated, staring at the table. I squeezed her shoulder, then got up and walked Spillman to the door.

  “The trauma of all this is going to hit her,” Spillman said in a low voice as I opened the door.

  “Uh-huh. And I’ll be right by her side.”

  Spillman stepped onto the porch and then turned around. “She’s very nice.”

  “Yes,” I agreed. “I’m going to marry her.”

  “Ah, another Nick and Nora Charles,” she said, referring to the husband-and-wife detecting duo in Dashiell Hammett’s The Thin Man.

  “Maybe,” I said. “You like 80s music and you know classic detective fiction as well. Do wonders never cease?”

  “I’m full of surprises,” she said. “You did a good job, Ferguson.”

  “Thanks.”

  And in her usual abrupt manner, she turned and clomped down the stairs. I went back into the kitchen. Willie was still gazing at the table.

  “You want to take a shower and I’ll clean up?” I suggested.

  “Huh? Oh, okay.”

  She stood up and I hugged her. And then the tears flowed. After a minute, she calmed down, pushed away from me and wiped her eyes.

  “I’m okay, really,” she said. “I just needed to let that out.”

  I kissed her. “You need to relax. How about that shower?”

  She nodded, so I walked with her into the bedroom. While she took a long shower, I called Deuce and told him what had happened. Then I spoke to Trisha. She was beyond relieved, and said she would make sure she told Spillman everything she knew. I talked to Deuce again and told him how to get to the police station, thanked him and said that I’d touch base with him tomorrow. I figured Willie needed my attention now. After I ended the call, I straightened the bedroom and ordered a pizza. When it arrived, I put When Harry Met Sally, one of Willie’s favorite romantic comedies, into the DVD player. Willie came out of the bedroom in pajama shorts and a T-shirt, and we sat on the couch and relaxed. I held her tight, and didn’t want to let go.

  ***

  A week later, Charlie Preston took Willie and me out to dinner at The Palm in the downtown Westin Hotel as an added bonus to the generous check he paid me.

  “He’s cuter in person,” she whispered to me as they seated us at a table that faced a park outside.

  “Ha ha,” I said.

  “But I love you,” she said in my ear.

  I smiled.

  “I’m rejoining the team tomorrow,” Charlie said after a waiter stopped by to take our steak orders.

  “That’s great,” Willie said. “The team could sure use you.”

  Charlie lowered his gaze. “Thank you. And I’m going straight. No more steroids.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do fine,” I said.

  “I hope so,” Charlie said. “I lost my friend over that stuff. I went to his funeral the other day…” He paused. “I had time to think, and I don’t want to be involved in anything illegal. I don’t want to cheat anymore. In some w
ay, I feel like I owe it to him.”

  “That’s the best thing you could do,” Willie said. “I’ve followed your career. You’ve got more talent than you give yourself credit for.”

  “Thanks,” Charlie said. “And Gil admitted to everything. I think he knew there was too much stacked against him.”

  “Detective Spillman told me,” I said. “Both Willie and I have had to talk to her and give official statements, and with Trisha’s statement, he’d have a hard time proving his innocence.”

  “What about your gun?” Willie asked. “It had your fingerprints on it.”

  “And his and a bunch of others,” Charlie said. “I’m in the clear on that.”

  “Good,” I said.

  Our food arrived and Willie and Charlie chatted baseball while we ate. She was as charming as ever, and I could tell Charlie liked her. We finished and ordered dessert, then Willie excused herself to go to the ladies room.

  “She’s something special,” Charlie said as he sipped water.

  I’d noticed he hadn’t even ordered a beer, so maybe he was cutting back on the drinking as well. A total cleanup in his life.

  “She is,” I agreed. “Now that I have some time, I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

  “Congratulations! Will I be invited to the wedding?”

  I thought he was kidding, but saw that he was serious. I sensed a friendship forming. “Sure,” I said. “We’d love to have you there.”

  “How are you going to pop the question?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that.” I sighed. “She likes baseball and I thought I could take her to a game and ask her there.”

  “And have the Rockies put ‘Willie, will you marry me?’ up on the Jumbotron?” Charlie asked.

  “Yeah. It’s kind of cheesy, though.”

  He shook his head. “As a player, I think it’s kind of cute, but I’ll bet I can do something better for you, something different that she’ll really remember.”

  “What’s that?” I said.

  Charlie launched into his idea, and it wasn’t just better, it was great.

  ***

  The following Thursday, the Rockies had the day off, and Willie and I were at Coors Field. I’d told her we were getting a private tour of the stadium, which we did, but then it ended with us strolling out of the Rockies dugout near first base. Then Willie spied a folding table and chairs sitting in the outfield. The Mountain Ranch Club, a restaurant in the stadium, had catered the lunch. The table was covered with a pristine white tablecloth, and a vase with a single red rose was in the center.

 

‹ Prev