“I ran out of gas,” I said.
They both nodded slowly, as if sympathizing with me.
“How far?” This from the one with the big nose.
“A few miles west of town,” I said.
He rubbed his nose. “What kind of car is it?”
“A 4-Runner.”
“Ah,” the bearded guy nodded. “I passed it on the way here.”
“I’m glad it’s still there,” I managed a rueful smile.
“No one’s going to do anything to it,” the other one chuckled. “Not out here.”
“Tell you what,” the bearded guy said. “Eat your breakfast and when you’re done, I’ll run you to get some gas and take you back to your car.”
I smiled and said, “That’d be great. I’m not sure my ankle would get me there otherwise.”
The waitress came and took my order. The service was fast and I was soon wolfing down what seemed like the best meal I’d had in days. When I finished, the bearded guy stood up and extended his hand.
“I’m Alan.”
I reached out and shook his hand. “Thanks for your help.”
“See you, Fred,” Alan said to his friend.
I followed Alan out to his truck.
“I’ve got a gas can in back,” he said as he got in the cab. “We’ll get it filled and get you on your way.”
And that’s exactly what we did. I wondered if I might see Jack or Marv around town, but I didn’t. Alan drove to the Phillips 66, the only place in town to get gas. We filled up the gas can, I paid, and we headed west on I-70.
“You know someone out here?” Alan asked after a bit of silence.
“I was going to look at some property in Limon,” I lied, referring to a town farther east on I-70.
“Shoot, there’s not much out here, other than farms.” He let out a short laugh. “And maybe the occasional meth lab.”
‘You know where meth labs are?” I asked, a tinge of surprise in my voice.
“Naw,” Alan shook his head. “Those boys into that stuff camouflage what they do. Looking for meth labs out here is like trying to find a mouse in a barn. There’s way too many places for them to hide.”
I yawned and Alan stopped talking. He turned on the radio and hummed along with The Rolling Stones. Ten minutes later we had reached the 4-Runner. I sighed with relief that it was still where I’d left it. We were traveling on the opposite side of the divided highway, heading west, so Alan had to go to the next exit, miles down the road. He looped around and onto east I-70. A few minutes later, he stopped in front of the 4-Runner. I retrieved the gas can and dumped gas into the 4-Runner tank, thanked Alan and waved as he drove off. I got inside and checked to make sure everything was still there, most importantly my camera. It was on the floor of the back seat where I’d hidden it. I started the car and drove myself back into Deer Trail, filled up, bought a soda and started back to Denver.
I made a mental list of things to do as I drove. Get a new cell phone. Contact Gail and let her know what was going on. Find out where Jack and Marv took the dog. Once I got home, I could call Cal. Since I’d take pictures of Jack’s truck, I had the license plate number. Cal could then look up the plate number and I would have Jack’s address. I was desperate for some quality sleep, although I wasn’t sure when I could fit that in. After I found Aesop, I told myself.
****
I arrived in Denver just before eleven. The growling in my stomach let me know it was almost lunchtime. I parked the 4-Runner in the garage, grabbed my camera bag, and wearily trudged around the side of the building. I gingerly climbed the porch steps and halted. The front door to the Goofball Brothers apartment was cracked open and I noticed Deuce sitting on the edge of his couch. Willie was hovering over him, holding a rag up to his face.
I pushed open the door. “What’s going on?”
Willie turned around. “Good Lord! What happened to you?”
“It’s a long story,” I said for the second time that morning. “Will someone tell me what happened?”
I glanced around the living room. A recliner lay overturned and the coffee table was pushed aside. Mocha-colored liquid pooled on the hardwood floor near the door. An overturned Starbucks glass lay nearby.
“What’s going on?” I asked again. “Deuce, are you okay?”
“Where were you?” Willie asked, her voice tight.
“I’ll tell you later,” I murmured to her.
“I went to get coffee,” Deuce said, oblivious to our exchange. “When I came home, a man had broken in. He wanted to know where you were. I told him I didn’t know. He didn’t believe me. He knocked my coffee out of my hand and it spilled.”
Willie lowered her hand and I saw Deuce’s face. He had a reddish welt on his jaw. He twisted up his face as he eyed the mess around him.
“He thought you lived here,” Deuce continued. “When I told him you lived upstairs, he said ‘Give him a message for me’, and then he slugged me. Hard.”
Deuce’s lip trembled and Willie patted his shoulder.
I sighed. “Then what happened?”
“He said you were putting your nose where it doesn’t belong and if you didn’t stop, you’d be sorry. Then he hit me again.”
Deuce lightly ran a hand over his jaw.
I gritted my teeth and clenched my hands. I stared into Deuce’s fearful, innocent eyes. It was one thing for them to come after me; after all, I was the one messing with Jack and Marv. But to hurt my friends, especially the Goofball Brothers, who were naïve and tenderhearted, that I couldn’t stand.
“It’s going to be okay,” I said. I stepped past the spilt coffee and came into the room. I righted the recliner and sat down.
“I’ll take care of this, but first, tell me what this guy looked like,” I said.
“I don’t know Reed,” Deuce cleared his throat. “He was just a guy.”
“Think like a detective, Deuce,” I said. “Was the man tall?”
Deuce sat up straighter. “No,” he said.
“Was he shorter, and kind of stocky?”
Deuce nodded, gazing back at me seriously. He closed his eyes and thought for second. “His voice was kind of low,” he said, opening his eyes. “Like Johnny Cash. And he kind of sneered at me.”
Marv, I thought.
“That’s good, Deuce,” I said. “That will help me find him.”
“We should call the police,” Willie said.
I shook my head. “I know who did this and they don’t live in Denver. It’ll be a waste of time to report this.”
“I want to help, Reed,” Deuce said. “We can get this guy, right?”
“I’ll take care of it,” I said. “You take care of that jaw.”
Willie sat on the couch next to Deuce. She crossed her arms and glared at me angrily, but I detected worry as well. Before I could deal with her ire, older brother Bob burst through the front door.
“What’s going on?” he said, his eyes darting frantically between us all. He rushed over to Deuce and bent down. “You okay, buddy?”
“Yeah,” Deuce said. “After I called you, I called Willie,” Deuce explained to me. “She came over and helped me.”
“His jaw is going to be a little sore,” Willie said. “But nothing’s broken.”
“That’s good.” Bob breathed a sigh of relief.
“Now we have to get the bad guys, right Reed?” Deuce said. “And since I got hurt, maybe now I should get to carry a gun.”
I rolled me eyes. The morning was going from bad to worse. “Uh, we’ll have to discuss it.”
Bob’s jaw dropped. He cocked an eyebrow at me and then jerked his head. “Can I speak to you in the kitchen?”
“Sure.” I limped after him.
Bob leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “You’re getting him a gun?”
I held up a hand. “Of course not.”
“Thank goodness for that.” He noticed my ripped pants and bruised face. “You look like hell.”
&n
bsp; “I fell out of a truck.” I sat down at the small kitchen table to take the weight off my ankle.
“Tough case?”
“You could say that,” I said.
Bob paused for a moment. “Listen, I understand wanting a job that gives you an adrenaline rush.” That was true. Bob was an EMT…talk about a job with a rush. He gestured at my appearance. “And you obviously get yourself into some danger. But this is hitting a little too close to home.”
Deuce and Willie came into the kitchen.
“It’s okay,” Deuce said, overhearing Bob. “It wasn’t Reed’s fault that guy got the wrong place. And Reed is a great detective. He’ll get this guy.”
I appreciated his faith in me, however ill-conceived it might have been right at that moment.
“You know who did this?” Bob asked.
I nodded. “He lives somewhere east of Deer Trail. I’m going to find him and then I can turn him in.”
“That’s good,” Bob said. “I just don’t like the idea of my brothers being in danger.”
“We’re fine,” Deuce said. “You worry about us too much. Besides, Ace and I like helping Reed and you can’t tell us what to do.”
Bob opened his mouth to protest but no words came out. “I have to answer to Mom and Dad,” he finally said. “They won’t like hearing that you got hurt.”
“Then don’t tell them,” Deuce said. “And Reed should be more concerned about his mom finding out he got hurt.” He grinned. “It’ll just make her madder that he’s a detective.”
Now that was a low blow. True, but low.
Bob chuckled, then winked at Deuce.
I heaved myself out of the chair.
“You want me to look at your ankle?” Bob asked.
“I’ll take care of him,” Willie said.
All the better, I thought.
We left Bob and Deuce in the kitchen. Willie followed me upstairs to my condo. I sat down on the couch and she checked my ankle.
“Does this hurt?” she asked, pressing just above my heel.
I winced. “Not really.”
She cocked her head. “That was convincing.” She sat down next to me. “You need to take it easy. You should ice your foot and keep it elevated.”
“I’ll do that while I call Cal.”
“Reed, you look horrible,” Willie said. “Get some rest.”
I got up and gazed at her. “I feel horrible. But someone’s serious enough about stopping me that he came after my friend. I’ve got to find him before he comes back.”
Willie stood up. She chewed at her lip and then surprised me with a hug. “I hate what you do, you know that?”
I put my chin on top of her head and enjoyed this new closeness. “Yeah, at times like this, I hate it, too.”
“So get another job.”
I pushed her back and stared at her. “Can you help me with something?”
“Don’t think I didn’t notice you changing the subject.” She paused. I waited. “Fine,” she said. “What do you need?”
“Can you get me a new cell phone? I need to work on some stuff here and it would really help me out.”
Willie held out her hand. “Give me your credit card. And what kind of phone do you want?”
She may have hated what I did, but she still liked me. How else could I explain her willingness to help me?
CHAPTER TWELVE
After Willie left, I rummaged in the refrigerator. While I prepared a couple of sandwiches, I mulled over how Marv had found where I lived. Maybe I was too tired, but I couldn’t come up with an answer. I fixed a bag of ice, and carried the sandwiches, and a Coke, into my office. I rested my foot on a spare chair, and carefully placed the ice bag over my ankle. I logged onto my computer and quickly ate the sandwiches. Then I dialed my cell phone number, entered a password, and retrieved the stored messages.
Gail had called three times last night. In the first message, her voice held mild concern, asking why I hadn’t phoned her. She also said that the Johnsons were frantic and that they hadn’t heard from the dognappers about a ransom. Her tone in the next message was more frantic, again wondering why I hadn’t contacted her and questioning if I was okay. If she only knew. In the third, left at midnight, worry laced her voice. She pleaded with me to call her and let her know what was going on. She had called again this morning, again asking for me to get in touch with her as soon as possible.
I opened the Coke and drank half of it as I dialed her number.
“Reed! I’ve been trying to reach you,” Gail blurted into the phone before I had a chance to say anything.
“I got your messages,” I said. “It’s been a long night.”
“Where is the Johnsons’ dog? What happened?” She fired off the questions. “The Johnsons having been calling me non-stop. They’re just sick over all this.”
I briefly explained what had happened since I’d last talked to her.
“That’s horrible,” she blurted out as I finished.
I decided not to tell her about Deuce getting beat up. No need to worry her more.
“Have the Johnsons received a ransom note?” I asked.
“Not yet.”
Marv must’ve decided to threaten me first, then drop off a ransom note.
“I’ll bet the Johnsons hear from them soon,” I said. “I’ve got the license plate of their truck. I should be able to figure out where the dognappers live.”
“Can you look up that kind of information?” Gail asked. “Is it public record?”
“If I can’t, Cal can,” I thought. “I’ll figure it out,” I said. “Call the Johnsons and tell them what’s going on.”
“Should they call the police?”
“They can,” I said. “But I don’t know what good it will do. Just like the other times, the police will file a report and that’ll be it.”
“But you witnessed the dognapping!”
“I’ll find the dog, and then I’ll call the police.” I paused. “Let me know when the Johnsons get a ransom note.”
“Fine,” Gail said, her tone indicating she didn’t think it was fine. “You keep me posted, too, okay?”
I gulped some more Coke. “I’m getting a new cell phone as we speak. I’ll call you later on tonight when I find the dog.”
I hung up and opened my camera bag. I took the camera out and plugged it into the USB port. In moments, I had the pictures I’d taken last night at the Johnsons’ house downloaded onto my computer.
“Here we go,” I muttered as I began scrolling through them. I quickly found one where I could clearly read the license plate. “Bingo.”
I picked up the phone again and dialed Cal. He rarely left his house, so I was pretty sure he’d be available. The phone rang twice.
“What’s up?” he said, right on cue.
“Can you get me an address if I give you a license plate number?” I asked.
“No ‘hello, how are you’,” he laughed.
“Cal, not right now.”
“Okay.” He grew serious. “Are you okay?”
“Maybe I should tape this,” I said, then explained for the third time what had happened in the last sixteen hours.
“Wow,” he said. “All this over a dog?”
“I think there’s more to this,” I said as I downed the last of the Coke. “Maybe it’s like that guy Alan said, and I’m messing with drug dealers.”
“Who also masquerade as dognappers.”
“That’s what I hope to find out,” I said. “Can you help with the address?”
“Sure, fire away.”
I read the plate number from the picture. Clattering of Cal’s fingers hitting the keyboard sang through the phone while I grabbed a pad and pen. “Okay,” he said slowly. “That’s an address in Arvada.”
I tapped my pen on the paper. “That doesn’t make sense. I think they live in Deer Trail.”
“You sure you read the plate correctly?”
I stared at the monitor. “DDD-589.”
&n
bsp; “That’s what I typed,” Cal said.
I studied a couple of other pictures and enlarged them on the screen. “Wait,” I said.
I leaned forward, scrutinizing the plate number. It appeared as if the top of the eight had a tiny tail. I enlarged the picture more, but that made it unreadable. “Instead of an eight, try a six,” I said. “I think maybe they used some black tape to alter the six…”
“…making it an eight. Slick.” Cal paused. “Nope, there isn’t an address for that plate number at all.”
I pored over the picture again. “Hmm, the nine seems funny. Try DDD-587.”
“It’s an address in Deer Trail.”
“That’s it!” I shouted. “What is it?”
He rattled off the address and I wrote it down.
“Jack and Connie Porter live there,” Cal said. “You want any other information on them?”
“No. Let’s keep the illegalities to a minimum.”
Cal chuckled. “If you change your mind, I can get whatever you need.”
I stared at the computer. “Jack Porter,” I said in my best Bogie imitation. “I’m coming to get you.”
Mapquest helped me find the address on a map. Jack’s place was farther down Road 34 from where I’d fallen from his truck. “I know roughly where that is.”
“What’s your plan?” Cal asked.
I glanced at the computer clock. It was just after one. If Willie returned soon with the phone, I could drive out to Deer Trail before it got dark. “I’m going back out there,” I finally said. “I’ve got to get the dog back.”
“Why don’t you just wait for the next ransom drop?”
“Because the last two went so well?” I responded to the touch of sarcasm in his voice. “Gail’s supposed to call me and let me know when the Johnsons receive a ransom note. But I don’t want to wait on that.”
“I would’ve thought Marv would be headed there after he left here,” Cal said.
“I know. They don’t seem like they’re in much of a hurry. That’s why I think it’s better if I can stop this now.”
“Maybe Marv got some lunch first,” Cal said, referring to my losing Jack and Marv the previous evening when they’d gone for dinner.
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