by C. M. Sutter
“Well, whoever is bartending now should know the guy’s last name, right?”
“Yeah, we’re going to call there shortly. The bar doesn’t open until four o’clock.”
“Okay, good work. Jade, make that call at four and find out the guy’s last name and his address. You and Jack pay him a visit.”
“Will do, Lieutenant. I’ll keep you posted.”
We headed back to the bull pen, each with a Styrofoam cup of coffee in our hand. I checked the time, and I had thirty minutes before I would make that call. I wrote myself a list of things that needed to be done. I didn’t know how much time Jack and I would be at the office tomorrow with Morris’s funeral beginning at eleven. We’d check in first, then leave North Bend before ten o’clock. I wanted to follow up with Perry, close out some old cases, and interview some more guys that had been arrested earlier. It sounded as though they were part of the same crew cooking meth east of town.
I poured another cup of coffee and sat at my desk with a clean sheet of paper and a pen in front of me. I made the call to Eddy’s Tap. It wasn’t quite four p.m. yet, but most bartenders arrived before they officially opened for business anyway. I wanted to catch whoever opened the bar during a quiet moment before any customers walked in.
The phone rang seven times. I almost hung up when I heard a voice answer.
“Eddy’s Tap.”
“Hello, I’m Sergeant Jade Monroe with the Washburn County Sheriff’s Department. Here’s my badge number. Write it down, please, since I’m not there to prove my identity to you. I’m wondering if you could spare a minute of your time.”
“Um, yeah, I guess.”
“Who am I speaking with, please?”
“This is Terry, Terry Ferring.”
“Hi, Terry. Are you a bartender there, or the owner of Eddy’s?”
“I’m a part-time bartender.”
“Do you know the bartender Mikey?”
“Yeah, sure I do.”
I looked at Jack and nodded. “That’s great. I’ll need Mikey’s last name and an address if it’s on file there.”
“Sure, give me a minute. I have to check in our personnel file. It’s in the office.”
“No problem, thanks.” I waited for a few minutes, giving my fingernails the once-over again. They looked worse than the last time I gave them the time of day.
“Okay, here we are. His legal name is Michael Cole. He lives at 4905 South Merritt, apartment 203, right in North Bend. Do you want his cell number too?”
“Yes, please.” I wrote everything down. “That should do it. Thanks, Terry. Goodbye.”
“Got what you needed?” Jack asked when I hung up.
“Yep. Let’s hope he answers the phone.” I pressed the buttons on my desk phone and waited.
Jack, Clayton, and Billings were staring. I swiveled my chair around and saw the lieutenant staring at me too through his office window.
I put my hand over the receiver and chuckled. “You guys are going to jinx this. Stop gawking at me.” I sat up straight and faced my desk. Mikey had just answered.
I explained who I was and told him we were investigating the recent murder cases. I asked if Jack and I could stop by. We had a few questions.
“Yeah, that’s fine by me.”
“Thanks, Mikey. We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” I hung up. “Ready, partner?”
“I sure am.” Jack reached in the top drawer of his desk and pulled out his notepad. “Let’s go.”
I told the lieutenant we were heading out.
“Okay, I’m going to stick around until you’re back. Brief me when you get in.”
We climbed into the unmarked black car we had at our disposal. This vehicle was less conspicuous than a cruiser, especially when parking at a large apartment complex.
The drive took only seven minutes. The one thing I always loved about North Bend was the ease of getting around. No matter whether we were going north to south, or east to west, the drive across town never took longer than fifteen minutes at the most.
We pulled into the parking lot and found a guest spot to park in. The complex looked quiet. I figured most residents were still at work. We walked to the main entrance and entered the vestibule. On the right wall were door buzzers for each apartment, and I pressed the button for apartment 203. The name Mike Cole was written under the plastic plate next to the button.
“Hello.”
“Hi, Mike, it’s Sergeant Monroe.”
“Okay, come upstairs and turn right. I’m the third door on the left.”
“Thank you.”
He buzzed us through.
Chapter 28
When I knocked on the door, he invited us in. I introduced Jack, and they shook hands.
“Please, have a seat,” Mikey said, pointing to the kitchen table.
“Thank you. Would you prefer to be called Mike or Mikey?” I asked as we sat down.
“I guess since this is official business, Mike sounds better. What can I do for you?”
I couldn’t help staring at Mike’s mustache when I talked to him. “This shouldn’t take long. We were told by”—I checked my notes—“Mr. Abe Livingston that you had an odd patron in the bar on Tuesday.”
He stared blankly at me. “I guess I need a little more than that. There are a few odd people that come and go.”
“Sure, I understand. Abe said the man sat at the bar, wearing a hoodie, and chuckled at the news segment about the murders.”
“Ah—yeah, I remember that guy now. What a nut job. Who would laugh at something that horrible, especially when it happens in your own neck of the woods? You know what I mean?”
Jack nodded. “Yes, we do. What can you tell us about him, Mike?”
“Not a lot. I’ve never seen him before. He was only in the bar for a short while, like he was killing time.”
“What about his physical appearance? You know, height, weight, hair color, build?”
“Well, he sat for most of the time. He wore a hoodie and green-tinted glasses. I remember his shirt was nicer, you know, decent. That’s why the hoodie seemed odd. That’s normally what you’d see a twenty-year-old wear. With the hood pulled up, I mean. This guy looked older. He was kind of stocky, oh, and that’s right, he asked for a weird brand of beer. Something I’ve never heard of. Eddy’s is a plain bar, nothing fancy.”
I sat upright, my elbows resting on the tabletop. I was interested. “Would you happen to remember the beer’s name?”
“Nah—like I said, I’d never heard of it. He did ask for a second choice, though.”
“Which was?”
“A Guinness, but we don’t carry that brand either. He settled on a can of Bud Light with a glass. Funny how most bartenders remember the drinks more than they remember the customer. After I said something to him about laughing at the news, he threw a five on the bar and walked out. That’s all I can tell you. Sorry I’m not much help.”
“To be honest, your help is the most we’ve gotten so far. You didn’t catch a glimpse of what he was driving, did you?”
“Sorry, no. I turned back to the TV when he walked out. I didn’t face the window, and the blinds were drawn anyway, with the sun going down and all.”
“So, what time would you estimate that to be?” Jack asked.
“Hmm… I’d say close to six. The news was wrapping up when he walked out.”
We thanked Mike for the information, handed him our cards, and shook his hand.
“I hope you catch this guy soon,” Mike said as he showed us to the door.
“So do we.”
Jack and I updated the lieutenant when we got back to the station.
“The bartender didn’t have a good description to give us, Lieutenant,” Jack said. “He told us the guy was stocky, weird, and wore a hoodie and tinted sunglasses.”
“Sounds like somebody who was trying to hide his identity. Who wears hoodies when it’s seventy degrees outside?” the lieutenant said.
I agreed. “Good p
oint, boss. Apparently, the guy ordered an unusual brand of beer which the bartender couldn’t remember the name of. He ended up drinking a Bud Light, and he wanted a glass with it.”
“A bartender that doesn’t know the name of a beer?” Lieutenant Clark rubbed his forehead and rolled his eyes.
I shrugged. “In his defense, sir, he said it wasn’t a brand they carried. I guess that’s why it wasn’t familiar to him.”
“All right. Let’s wrap it up for tonight. You two are coming in before you head out to the funeral, right?”
“Yep, we’ll be here for a few hours in the morning. Night, boss.”
“Good night.”
Chapter 29
I was getting used to having Spaz around. He was good company and seemed to enjoy snuggling up next to me on the couch at night. He’d purr while I scratched behind his ears. I’m sure I was just filler until Amber was here full time. I just needed to remember to keep my bedroom door closed at all times, or Polly and Porky would be toast. Spaz was a seven-year-old Tabby, given to Amber by our dad when she graduated middle school. She loved that cat, and Spaz was part of the package deal. I got Amber—I got Spaz.
Only one more day of living here alone remained. Beginning Saturday, Amber would be my roommate for the foreseeable future. I was pretty sure Melissa would call early, and we’d be out looking at condos for most of the afternoon.
Mom called as I drove home. She said she’d reserved a part of the back room at Stanley’s for my birthday dinner. Even though there would be just four of us, she wanted to bring a cake and my birthday gifts along. We’d have that private area for gift opening, picture taking, and cake eating after our meal. I agreed that Amber and I would meet her and Bruce at six thirty.
I started the oven and popped a frozen lasagna dinner on the center rack. It had thirty minutes to go. Meanwhile, I stripped the bed in what used to be the guest room, even though we never had overnight guests. This was Amber’s bedroom now, and I wanted a fresh-smelling set of sheets ready for her first night there. Spaz nuzzled up to my legs as I pulled the fitted sheet off, gathered the pillowcases and the sheets, and put them in the washer. I looked through the linen closet, and the set of peach-colored sheets caught my eye. They would be perfect for Amber. Lance had always thought they looked too girlish for a bed a man slept in, and over time, they got pushed farther back in the closet.
The bed was made, and my meal was ready. The timer beeped, and I pulled out the lasagna. I sat on the couch with my meal, a big no-no back in my married days, and enjoyed dinner over my favorite cop show and a glass of red wine. I was hoping a few glasses of wine would help me sleep soundly. I made a quick call to Amber at work, just to check up on her.
“Hey, Sis, how’s work?”
“It’s all good. We’re pretty busy. There’s a new guy that’s been shining around. I think he’s crushing on me. I’m the only person he talks to, but it makes time go faster.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Yeah, he’s okay, but way too old for me. Anyway, I have people waiting for their drinks. Gotta go.”
“Okay. Night, Sis.”
I took my glass of wine and went to watch TV in bed. After a half hour, I turned off the light. My buzzing phone woke me. I slapped at the light and sat up. The screen on my phone showed Amber was calling, and it was after two in the morning. She had just closed the bar.
“Sis, what’s up?” I asked, already concerned. Amber never called this late. She knew I was an early riser.
“I think somebody is following me, Jade.”
“What?”
“I’m usually the last one out when I’m on the closing shift. Tommy and Brian left about twenty minutes ago. I locked up and set the alarm. I pulled out of the parking lot a few minutes ago, and suddenly somebody was right on my bumper. The same thing happened when I left your place last night.”
“Last night? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m telling you now. I wasn’t that freaked out last night, but two nights in a row?”
“Amber, drive to the sheriff’s department right now. I’ll call Detective Jamison and tell him to meet you outside. Pull right up to the door. Don’t get out of your vehicle unless he’s waiting for you. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Call me back the second you’re with Jamison.”
“Okay.”
I hung up and called Jamison immediately. I told him what kind of vehicle Amber had and when she should arrive. I calculated that if she’d just left Joey’s, she should be at the station in ten minutes, give or take a stoplight or two.
I got up and made myself a cup of tea and paced. The phone buzzed again, startling me to almost drop my cup.
“Sorry, Sis, false alarm. It was Sean following me—the idiot. I asked him why he didn’t just call my cell instead of stalking my car like that. He said his phone fell between the seats, and he couldn’t get to it. He was trying to pry it out when he noticed me leaving the parking lot. That’s why he tore out after me, to get my attention.”
“Apparently, he did.”
“Then he thought something was wrong when he saw me turn into the sheriff’s department parking lot. He pulled in behind me, jumped out, and asked me if I needed help. I guess he just wanted to know if I’d go to George Webb with him for some late night breakfast. Don’t worry, Sis, Detective Jamison gave him a talking-to. I thanked the detective for waiting outside for me. Now I’m at George Webb. I’ll have a talk with Sean myself too when we get inside. That was totally not cool. Sorry I woke you.”
“Don’t be sorry, honey. I want you to call anytime you don’t feel safe. It’s the smart thing to do. Okay, I’m going back to sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
I went back to bed and snuggled under the blanket.
The alarm buzzed loudly at six thirty. My eyes burned. They wanted to close again for another four hours, but that was just wishful thinking. I got up, slipped on my robe, and tapped the on button for the coffeepot. I poured a cup of kibble into Spaz’s bowl and hit the shower. After dressing for the funeral, I fed the birds, closed my bedroom door, and left.
Jack arrived at the station at the same time I did. As we walked in, I told him about the near scare Amber had had last night.
He groaned. “Kids.”
Jack gave me the once-over when we reached the bull pen.
“What?”
“Nothing. I like the pantsuit, that’s all. You look good, and the scarf’s a nice touch.”
I smiled. “Thanks. You look nice too.”
We would spend a few hours doing busywork, then leave. There wasn’t enough time to delve deep into anything. I set the alarm on my phone for nine o’clock. I wanted to call Perry and ask if he’d made funeral arrangements for Elise yet. I was hoping hers would be the last funeral I’d attend for some time.
“I’m going to head upstairs to see if our new visitors have anything they want to talk about.”
“You mean the Meth Lab Rats?”
I laughed. “The crew has a nickname already?”
“Yeah, and I thought of the name all by myself,” Jack said proudly.
“Really? Then maybe you should conduct the interview. Have at it, partner. I’ll call Perry.”
“Sure, why not? Maybe I can rattle their rat cage.” Jack poured himself a cup of coffee and walked out of the bull pen. He turned back at the doorframe and grinned. “Wish me luck.”
“You’ll need it.” I chuckled, pushed back my chair, and filled my own coffee cup. I looked at the clock and turned off my phone alarm. I’d call Perry now.
He answered on the third ring. “Hello, Perry, it’s Sergeant Monroe. I just wanted to touch base with you.”
“Hello, Sergeant. I appreciate the call. This is hard, you know.”
“I completely understand. Have you made arrangements yet for Elise?”
“I’m about halfway there. I picked out a pearl-white casket. Elise liked white. Do you think that so
unds nice?”
“Yes, I do. It’s perfect.”
“I’m still waiting on the death certificates before we can move forward. I guess they should be ready this afternoon. I’ll arrange a funeral date with the director after that.”
“Okay, Perry. Please keep in touch, and if you need anything, I’m just a phone call away.”
“Thank you, Sergeant. Goodbye.”
I hung up and made a note on my desk calendar to check in again with him on Tuesday about the funeral.
Jack was back in the bull pen by nine thirty. We checked in with the lieutenant before we left, and Clayton and Billings said they were going back out to the parks today. Maybe they’d get lucky and talk to someone that knew something.
“We’re heading out, boss,” I said as I stood against the doorframe of Lieutenant Clark’s office. “As far as I know, Lindstrom and Colgate will be at the funeral too. I’m sure we’ll exchange new information if either of us has any. We should be back midafternoon.”
“Okay, see you both later.”
Jack drove our unmarked cruiser while I punched the address into my cell phone’s navigation system. “I think this place will be easy enough to find, but just in case.”
“Where is it?” Jack asked
I looked at my notes. “Um, it’s at the intersection of Capital Avenue and 60th Street. The entrance faces Capital.”
“Got it. It’s called Phillips Funeral Home?”
“Yep, that’s the name. Oh yeah, duh, I forgot to tell you the latest news.” I grinned.
“Yeah, don’t keep me in suspense.” Jack looked over at me. “I’m all ears.”
“And then some.” I chuckled. “Anyway, Amber said in the fall, she’s going to change her major to criminal justice.”
“No shit?” Jack merged onto the freeway as we talked.
“Uh-huh.”
“What brought that on?”
“She wants to be like us, and my pop. Get this. Eventually, she wants to be an FBI profiler. With two degrees, one in criminal justice and the other in behavioral sciences, she’d probably do really well as a profiler in time.”
Jack whistled. “That girl is ambitious. Good for her. I’m impressed. What did your old man say?”