Rose Pressey - Chase Charley 02 - Seems Like Old Crimes

by Rose Pressey

  Marc smiled. “It’s good to see you again.”

  He looked handsome in his black pants and crisp white shirt. Apparently he’d changed before coming over too. He wasn’t nearly as casual as me though.

  “You look great,” he said as he looked around my place.

  “Thank you. Would you like to sit down?” I motioned toward the sofa.

  He crossed the room and I followed behind him. My stomach did a flip as I watched him.

  Marc sat on the edge of the sofa. He looked as if he didn’t want to get too comfortable. He was still in his professional police mode.

  “I feel bad that you had to come all the way over here.” I moved closer to the sofa.

  He shook his head. “I wanted to come here. This guy shouldn’t get away with this.”

  I sat on the other side of the sofa. The silence settled over us for a moment. Marc had never been this far into my apartment. I enjoyed the easiness of being around him. I wondered if he felt the same way.

  After reaching over and grabbing my purse, I pulled the note out and handed it to him.

  “This is what Courtney got from the guy.”

  Marc took the note and studied the paper for a moment. After a couple seconds, he looked over at me. “You don’t know him, right?”

  I shook my head. “No, I’ve never seen him before the other day.”

  “Do you think he is just a fan?” Marc asked.

  I shrugged. “I suppose, yes.”

  “Sounds likes he’s taking it to a dangerous level,” Marc said.

  I didn’t even want to think about what that dangerous level was.

  “So how do you think he was going to deliver this to you?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe he was going to hand-deliver it?”

  “It’s good that he didn’t get that chance,” Marc said.

  I nodded. “Part of me thinks he’s just doing this for attention and another part wonders how dangerous he is.”

  “In this situation you should just assume that he is dangerous.” Marc folded the paper back. “I want you to be careful, okay?”

  I nodded. Now I was starting to be more afraid than ever. I was glad that I had Marc to look into this for me.

  “The other note I gave you isn’t the only one that I’ve received from him,” I said.

  Marc looked at me. “It’s not?”

  “The other night when I was at the jazz club, the waitress gave me a note. I’d seen the man minutes before she gave it to me, so I knew it was from him.”

  “What happened to the guy that night?” Marc asked.

  “He left before she handed me the note. When I went outside, he wasn’t there. He may have been hiding. There are lots of places he could hide and I wouldn’t even notice.” I pushed to my feet and crossed the floor to my desk.

  “What happened after that?” Marc asked.

  I opened the drawer and pulled the envelope out. With the letter in hand, I went back to the sofa and handed it to Marc. Marc looked me in the eyes and then took the envelope. He opened it and took out the letter.

  He read it and then looked up at me. “You never talked to him when he called?”

  I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “No, he’s never uttered a word when I’ve answered the phone. It’s almost as if he knows when I’m there and when I’m not.” I swallowed hard at the thought.

  “That’s not impossible,” Marc said.

  “I’ve been seeing him around a lot, but I never thought things would get so dangerous.”

  “Where have you seen him?” Marc asked.

  “Around my office, at Courtney’s, and the café. That’s just the places I’ve actually seen him. He may have been around at other places and I didn’t notice him.”

  Marc nodded. “He probably was.”

  That was the scary part, not knowing what corner the man was lurking around.

  “Most of the time there is nothing we can do until he actually threatens you. Plus, we have to find him,” Marc said.

  “Do you think it will be hard to find him?” I asked.

  Marc shook his head. “I don’t think it will be.”

  I hoped Marc was being honest.

  “You mind if I keep these as evidence?” he asked, holding up the letters.

  My eyes widened. “Do you think this guy will come after me again?”

  “I hate to say this, but more than likely he will. He acts as if he is getting more dangerous with each encounter.” Marc reached out and gently squeezed my hand. “Try not to worry too much about this, okay?”

  I nodded. “I’ll try not to, but at the same time, it’s hard not to think about it.”

  “Like I said, we’ll do everything to find out who he is.”

  I knew he meant that too. At least he hadn’t told me to mind my own business with the murder case.

  “Would you like to stay for dinner?” I asked.

  A smile spread across his face. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Marc might regret it after tasting my cooking. Plus, now I had to figure out what to do for food. A trip to the grocery store was on my to-do list, but I had been a little preoccupied the past few days.

  “I’ll slip into the kitchen and get something started.” I motioned.

  “Do you need me to help?” He started to stand.

  Since I had no idea what I would make, I didn’t want him in the kitchen witnessing my abysmal culinary skills. He’d see how horrible a cook I really was.

  I stopped him from standing. “It’ll just take me a minute.”

  “I’ll be waiting,” he said with a smile.

  Why had I asked him to stay for dinner? It wasn’t like I could actually make a decent meal. My invitation was going beyond Southern hospitality though. The real reason was because I liked being around Marc.

  I marched into the kitchen in a bit of a panic. With my hands on my hips, I stared at the cabinets for a moment. I had to do something. Finally, I rushed over to the freezer and yanked open the door. I spotted a few pieces of chicken. I knew I had pasta and sauce, so that would have to do. Not exactly a gourmet meal.

  I should have gone to the store. At least I had a bottle of red wine left. I pulled it from the rack on the counter and grabbed a couple of glasses. Next I grabbed the pasta from the cabinet and the jar of sauce. I could add a little to it for my own special sauce. Would Marc think I’d made it from scratch? Not a chance. My secret would be out soon enough.

  After hearing the crash of pans, Marc called out from the living room. “Can I help?”

  This was even more embarrassing.

  “I think I’ve got it.” I brushed the hair off my forehead.

  “I can help with that,” he said from the kitchen doorway.

  I whipped around to see Marc standing at the kitchen door. I knew that my face was probably red. He smiled, probably sensing my embarrassment.

  “I’m clumsy in the kitchen, in case you hadn’t guessed,” I said.

  He laughed. “You look like you have everything under control.”

  It was a good thing he thought so because that was far from the truth.

  Marc stood beside me. “What can I do?”

  I stared at the counter for a second. “You can put the bread in the oven to warm.” I pointed.

  He took the pan and placed it in the oven as I took the pasta off the stove and over to the sink.

  Marc grabbed the plates out of the cabinet. “I’ll just set the table.”

  He walked out of the room as I hurried with the sauce. This was going better than I’d thought. Now that I’d seemingly found my kitchen groove, I placed the pasta in the bowl. Marc came back and grabbed the wine and glasses.

  “It’s all ready,” I said with a smile.

  He probably thought by the way I acted that it was the first meal I’d ever prepared. Marc sat across from me at my small dining table. I prayed that my food wouldn’t poison him. I spun the noodles around my fork and tried not to make a mess.

&nbs
p; “I hope you like the food.” I gestured with my fork.

  He took a bite and I waited for his reaction. After he finished chewing, a smile broke out on his face.

  “It tastes delicious. I’m impressed that you can whip something up so quickly.”

  “Thanks for the compliment.” My cheeks grew warm. It was sweet, even if he didn’t mean it. “I guess you don’t want to talk about Tim Swanson?” I asked as I took a bite.

  “Normally, I would say no, but I know you’re involved with the case.”

  “Of course you probably aren’t supposed to share any of this with me, right?” I asked.

  He smiled. “We won’t even talk about that part.”

  I took a sip of wine and then said, “Fair enough.”

  I liked the way he thought. Marc took another bite.

  “Do you think the black car was connected to the murder?” I poured more wine into his glass.

  “It’s hard to say.” He took a drink.

  “I just want to know why this woman was talking to Tim Swanson and who she is,” I said.

  “You are persistent.” He smiled.

  I traced the rim of my glass with my index finger. “You know, we found a bank ledger at Tim and Haley’s tour office. It was hidden under a floorboard. It was strictly by accident that I found it.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “And you’re just now telling me about it?”

  I looked down at my plate. “It looked like he was moving money around. I just don’t know why. His name was the only one on the account.”

  “What happened to the ledger?” Marc asked.

  “I left it there. Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

  “Enough about the case.” He smiled and pointed to my Ferris Bueller’s Day Off poster. “You like the 80s, huh?”

  “Yes, maybe it’s silly, but I love it.”

  “It’s one of the best movies of all time,” he said.

  I wasn’t sure if he was teasing me or if he was serious.

  “What do you like?” I asked.

  “Baseball. Watching movies. Believe it or not, my favorite is 80s too.” He didn’t crack a smile, so I had to believe he was being honest.

  “Are you serious? Weekend at Bernie’s?” I quirked an eyebrow.

  “I won’t admit to that,” he said.

  I laughed. “Fair enough.”

  Marc looked at his glass for a moment and then asked, “What’s the deal with you and the other reporter?”

  I knew he would eventually bring this up. Now I had no idea what to say.

  “We’ve worked on an investigation together.” Maybe if I didn’t offer any other explanation he would let it go for now. Or I could change the subject quickly. “Why aren’t you dating anyone? Or are you?”

  He chuckled. “I’m not good at dating.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I usually attract people who aren’t my type.”

  “What’s your type?” I asked.

  He studied me with his big brown eyes. “Down to earth with a sense of humor. Dark hair with hazel eyes. Someone who is totally lost in the eighties.”

  Heat rushed to my cheeks. “You’re not attracting that type?”

  “I hope I am now. The last woman I went out with brought wedding magazines on our first date.”

  “Ouch. That’s definitely second date material.”

  He laughed.

  Marc and I talked and laughed about movies for a couple hours. We sat on the sofa together and I completely lost track of time.

  Finally he looked at his watch, “I had better go. You need rest and I have an early shift.”

  “I’m going to hold you to watching Weekend at Bernie’s with me,” I said as I stood from the sofa.

  Marc walked to the door. “It’s a date.”

  As I stood at the door, Marc stared at me. I knew what he was thinking. The next thing I knew he leaned down to kiss me. His lips were warm and tingled against mine. My eyes were closed and I was lost in the moment. Finally, he backed away and looked me in the eyes.

  “I had a nice time tonight,” he said.

  I nodded. “I had a great time too. Thank you again for coming over.”

  He touched my hand. “I’ll see you soon.”

  I watched as he walked out the main door. I hadn’t thought about Dangerfield all night, but now that Marc had gone, he crossed my mind. I didn’t know how I felt about the two men. I hated that I had to make a decision. At least I didn’t have to make that decision tonight though. Another plus was that Mrs. Perkins hadn’t come out during our kiss.

  I thought about the man who’d tried to hit me with his car and wondered when he might show up at my place tonight. I rushed to close the door and lock it. At least I hoped that would keep him away.

  Chapter 17

  Haley had finally given me information for the one other employee that Haley and Tim had employed. Kelly now worked at a boutique in the French Quarter over on Magazine Street. At least I had an excuse for going into the shop. I could look at the clothing and pretend I was shopping while I asked Kelly questions.

  The shop was my first stop this morning. I’d even skipped my morning coffee at Café Mojo. I reached the shop and stepped through the door. The place was full of trendy clothing. The theme seemed to be light colors at the moment. A tall blonde was at the back of the store and spotted me. She waved and headed my way. I figured I would ask about clothing at first. At least pretend that I was a customer.

  Since I saw nothing in the shade of red in the store, I said, “I’m looking for a red dress.”

  This would keep me from having to purchase anything. My car needed a few repairs and I didn’t need to spend money on clothing at the moment.

  She frowned. “I’m sorry, we don’t have anything in red right now.”

  I touched a white blouse next to me.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with?” she asked.

  I looked at the name tag on her shirt and saw that she was the Kelly I was looking for.

  “I do have one other question. My name is Chase Charley.”

  She waved her finger in my direction. “Yes, I thought I recognized you from TV.”

  I smiled. “Yes, that’s me. Is it okay if I ask you a question?”

  She crossed her arms in front of her waist. “Sure, what can I help you with?”

  “You worked at the voodoo tour with Tim and Haley Swanson?”

  Her expression changed. “Yes. Why do you ask?”

  “I’m looking into Tim Swanson’s murder,” I said.

  She glanced around the space as if she wanted to flee.

  “Did you notice anything strange when you worked there?”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, I know he was having a disagreement with a friend named Jeff Hecht. Can you tell me anything else about their relationship?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure. I tried to stay out of it. I know Jeff wanted to borrow money and Tim wouldn’t let him. Jeff was fired for stealing.”

  “Did you see him steal?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Yes, I did. He took cash. Tim didn’t call the police, he just let him go.”

  “Is that all?”

  “I can’t think of anything else,” she said.

  “Well, thanks for answering my questions. I appreciate your help.”

  “Oh, there was that Dean guy. He used to call a lot but Tim would always tell me to tell him he wasn’t available. I don’t know what that was all about,” she said.

  Hmm. Neither did I, but I intended to find out.

  “Thanks again for everything,” I said.

  “You’re welcome.” Kelly smiled.

  I turned to leave, but that was when I saw the man who’d tried to run me over on the sidewalk right out in front of the store.

  “Oh, no.”

  “Is everything okay?” Kelly asked.

  “Actually, no. Do you see that man out there? He’s been following me.”

  “What kin
d of creep is he?” she asked.

  I moved over behind her. “I need a place to hide. I don’t want him to see me. Where can I go?”

  “How about the dressing room?” She pointed. “If he comes in I will tell him that you aren’t in here.”

  I would have just confronted this man, but when I thought about how crazy he could actually be, I thought it wasn’t a good idea. He was definitely crazy since he was following me around. I stepped into the dressing room and closed the door. I leaned against the wall of the room, hoping he wouldn’t come near and see my feet at the bottom of the space. I had no idea what I would do if he didn’t leave.

  The bell on the door dinged and I held my breath.

  “Hello,” Kelly said.

  I leaned closer to the door, waiting to hear him speak.

  What was he doing? Had he already killed her? Panic set in and I started to freak out.

  “Are you looking for something in particular?” she asked.

  At least I knew he hadn’t done anything to her yet.

  “Are you looking for your wife?” she asked.

  Did the guy know how to speak? I pulled out my phone and got ready to dial 911. My finger was just about to push the digits when he said, “I do have a question.”

  He spoke in a low hushed tone. He sounded just as creepy as he looked. I felt terrible for doing this to the poor woman. Kelly was just trying to work and now she had to deal with this.

  “Yes?”

  “I saw a woman come in here. She has dark hair and was wearing a blue dress.”

  I looked down at my outfit. Yep, that was me. Now I had to hope that Kelly wouldn’t tell him where to find me. What if she silently pointed me out?

  “I’m sorry, no one fitting that description has been in this morning. My boyfriend is in the back room. I can ask him if he’s seen anyone fitting that description.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” he said in a clipped tone. I knew that he didn’t believe her.

  Was her boyfriend really in the back or had she just told him that? I hoped he would leave now that she had told him no, but so far the door hadn’t sounded, indicating his exit.

  “Does she buy clothing here?” he asked.

  “Excuse me?” Kelly asked. What a weird question.

  “Does Chase Charley shop here?” he asked, clearly more irritated now.