He nodded, and she said, “As I told you on the phone, you were recommended to me by Sloan Harrison. He says you are the best in the business.”
“I hope I can live up to that reputation.” Removing a small spiral notebook out of his shirt pocket, he laid it on the desk in front of him. “Did you have a chance to think about the rates I gave you over the phone?”
“I did,” she said. “They seem reasonable to me.”
“Good. Then let’s get down to business. Why do you want my services?”
Amanda struggled not to feel embarrassed as she stated her request in a firm, businesslike manner.
“There is a man who hangs out with a group of homeless men along the Boulder Creek Path and I want you to find out everything you can about him.”
“Has he been bothering you?”
“Not at all.”
“Can you give me the reason you want him checked out?”
“I don’t think that’s something you need to know,” she said. “It has no relevancy, whatsoever.”
“I would like to know before I get involved if this is a matter which should be referred to the police.”
“No, it definitely isn’t.”
“So he hasn’t accosted you while you were on the Creek Path?”
“No,” she said, although that was not quite true. In effect, that was what he had done last evening when he had stepped out from behind a tree and stopped her on her way home.
“I will need a description of him, if that’s possible.” He grinned, then added, “All homeless men look alike to me.”
“This one stands out, even though he is unkempt like the rest of the group.”
A question played on his face as he held a pen poised over his notepad.
“He’s tall. Much taller than the others. Probably about six-one or two. He stands straight, not with slumped shoulders like the rest of them. He has the most striking gray eyes. There’s no other homeless man that even closely resembles him.”
“I take it you are a regular on the path.”
“Yes, I ride my bike on it almost every day except Sunday, since it is a convenient route from my house to the Mall.”
“When did you first notice him?”
“Let’s see,” she said, trying to be as accurate as possible. “It was the day the police released the news about the third girl being raped and murdered. I don’t remember the exact date.”
“I can look that up,” Gary said. “You do realize he could be dangerous? It’s even possible he might be the Boulder Creek Killer.”
“I don’t think so,” she said, shaking her head. But what if he is? What am I doing? Alarm bells rang in her head and she swallowed a sudden lump in her throat at the thought.
Gary shrugged. “I suggest you be very careful when riding your bike. And don’t ride after dark. You know another girl was found murdered last night?”
“I know. I have to admit it’s kind of frightening since the bridge where they found the body isn’t all that far from me.”
“Why don’t you quit riding your bike and take the bus?”
She couldn’t do that. She would be unable to see the homeless man.
But was her life worth the pleasure of seeing him?
“Is there anything else you can tell me? Hair color? I’m assuming he has a beard since they all do. Can’t afford to shave, I guess.” He gave a short laugh.
“His hair is a dishwater blond and he does have a beard, which is pretty much the same color.”
“Any identifying marks?”
“Not that I could see. His face is covered by the beard. I think he wears the same clothes all the time. His shirt is long sleeved, but the sleeves are usually rolled up to just below his elbow. But I didn’t see any scars or tattoos.”
“I’ll get started right now while it’s still early in the afternoon. The homeless men spend the night at the North Broadway Shelter and I’m hoping to see this man before they take the city bus up to the Shelter. If he sticks with the group, I’ll have to figure out a way to question them when he’s not around.”
“I appreciate your time.”
“I’ll get back to you as soon as I find out something,” Gary said as he stood to leave. “It shouldn’t take long. All these men have a story and I’ve heard they like to tell it.”
“Let me give you my business card. I’ve written my cell phone number on the back.”
Gary inserted it into one of his wallet sections. “Please, be careful on the Creek Path,” he said as he left her office. “I must tell you I would feel much more comfortable if you took the bus to work rather than ride your bike.”
“Don’t worry about me. I promise not to ride after dark.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
Gary had no sooner left when Jenessa popped into Amanda’s office.
“Was that a prospective artist?” she asked, as she sat down in a chair as though she was tired of being on her feet.
Amanda was used to her manager asking questions, both business and personal. She studied her manager’s pretty round face. “Well?” Jenessa prompted.
“I don’t think he has anything the average person would be interested in,” Amanda replied. She wasn’t about to tell her she had just hired a detective to investigate a homeless man.
“Well, I’m through for the day,” Amanda said, standing. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
She picked up her bag and riding helmet and followed Jenessa out into the store. She waved goodbye to Justin who was waiting on a customer and went to get her bike out of the back room.
A few minutes later, as she neared the bike path, her heart quickened its beat and her mouth went dry. She didn’t know why the reaction, since she was sure the group of homeless men wouldn’t be sitting on the stone bench. For some reason that location seemed to be reserved for the morning.
When she crossed the street she saw at once the area was vacant. She couldn’t explain the frustration she felt. Maybe if she had waited a little longer before leaving work she would have seen him.
As she rode home on her bike, she reminded herself that he might have left the area for good, if not today, someday soon. It was inevitable. She had better forget him. Maybe tomorrow she would take the bus to work instead of riding her bike. Then she wouldn’t have to experience the disappointment of not seeing him. She had tried to make that decision before, but she had never been able to stick to it.
Matt was surprised on Saturday when Mike, one of the homeless men, told him a man had come up to the shelter the previous evening and was asking questions about him. The people who ran the shelter said Matt had never checked into their facility to spend the night, so they were unable to give Gary any information.
The men who hung out with Matt told Gary they only knew his first name and beyond that had never heard his story. He always listened to what they had to say, but never talked about himself or how he had become homeless. They all agreed that he appeared to have a lot of class, so they felt he must have been a professional man who had somehow lost it all.
At this piece of information, Matt wondered if he should have been talking more like a common laborer might, rather than a professional. He hoped he hadn’t given himself away to anyone. Was that why a stranger was asking questions about him?
Puzzled, Matt left the group and went to the library to use the pay phone. He called Heller.
When the chief picked up the phone, he acted surprised to hear Matt on the other end of the line.
“What’s up?” the chief asked.
“Something strange.”
“I’m listening.”
“Last night some man was up at the shelter on North Broadway asking questions about me. Do you know anything about that?”
Matt could tell the chief w
as surprised. “It couldn’t have been one of my men. They don’t even know about you. Besides which, if he was connected with my department, he would have had to show his ID.”
“Strange. Do you think someone is on to me?”
“I wouldn’t think so. Did anyone get the man’s name or why he was asking questions?”
“Just his first name. Gary.”
“I’ll ask around and see if I can find out something without arousing anyone’s suspicion. See if you can get some kind of description for him. Call me back in the morning.”
“Will do,” Matt said and hung up the phone.
As he turned from the pay phone, a woman bumped into him.
“Sorry,” she said.
He looked down into her upturned face. He immediately recognized those startling blue eyes with a sprinkle of freckles across the nose. Without her bike helmet, she was more beautiful than he had realized. It was all he could do to keep from reaching out and pulling her into his arms.
They stared at each other for a long moment.
“Is he bothering you, miss?” one of the librarians asked.
“N—no,” the young woman stuttered. “It was my fault. I was in a hurry and I’m afraid I bumped into him.”
As she spoke, she didn’t drop her gaze from his. Matt would have liked to continue to hold that eye contact, but he had a feeling if he didn’t move on, the librarian was going to tell him to do so. He felt, rather than saw, the librarian was satisfied with the answer and moved away from them, a stack of books in her arms.
“Excuse me,” he said and reluctantly stepped around the young woman and left the library. He sat down on a cement bench near the library door, hoping the woman would come out soon. Seeing her had made him forget for the moment his reason for being there.
Then he remembered what some of the homeless men had told him about a man going up to the shelter and asking questions about him. As he waited for the woman to come out, he wondered about the man who had visited the shelter the previous night. Who was he, and why was he asking questions?
The woman came out a few minutes later carrying a book. When he would have spoken to her, she hurried past him toward the parking lot and climbed into a car. He watched until it was out of sight.
He sighed. He had waited years to meet someone who affected him the way this woman did, and now he was in a position where he couldn’t approach her. Couldn’t ask her out for dinner. Couldn’t get acquainted with her.
He wished he at least knew her name, but he didn’t dare ask. He was sure that would frighten her. But maybe if he only asked for her first name, she wouldn’t have a problem with that. If he ran into her again, he told himself he would find a way to inquire without alarming her.
Matt was suddenly tired of the whole homeless masquerade. Something had better happen, and soon. He wanted to get on with his real life. He wanted to have time with the woman. He wanted to take her out to dinner. He wanted to take her dancing, hold her in his arms. When this job was over, he was going to find her. He would go into every store on the Mall, if necessary, until he found her.
Slowly, he stood. He felt so discouraged. It was all he could do to keep from shuffling along like the men he hung out with. Making a conscious effort, he raised his head and straightening his back, headed for the park.
He should get his mind off the woman and concentrate on remembering everything he had studied about serial killers. After all, he had been hired to catch the Boulder Creek Killer. But he had to admit it was more pleasant to think about the blue-eyed blonde.
As Amanda drove out of the library parking lot, she glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw the homeless man staring after her. She wished she would have had the nerve to stop and talk to him. Find out about him. But that was what she was paying Gary Kaufmann for.
At that moment, her cell phone rang. She held it up to read the name. Gary Kaufmann. She slammed on her brakes and stopped in a space on the far side of the lot from where she had been parked.
“This is Amanda,” she said as she connected with the detective.
“Amanda, I’m afraid I’m going to ruin Sloan’s good opinion of me.”
“Why is that?” she asked, fearful of what he was going to tell her.
“The only thing I have been able to find out about the man you wanted me to investigate was his first name.”
“Really? How strange,” she said, her heart sinking.
“It’s like he didn’t even exist before he showed up homeless in Boulder.”
“How is that possible?”
There was a moment of silence from Gary’s end. “But I did get a first name. At least the one he is using.”
“How did you manage to do that?”
“After I left you yesterday afternoon, I found the group you mentioned and recognized the man immediately from your description. I did a little stakeout and followed them when they went to catch the city bus up to the Shelter.”
“That was good thinking.”
“I thought so at the time, but as I said, all I found out about the man was his first name. According to the men I talked to, he doesn’t go with the group to the Shelter. Has a sleeping bag that he apparently sleeps in at night. So he is continuing to hang out around the Creek Path all night, which makes me a little suspicious.”
“How did you get his name?” she asked again. “Go back and ask him?”
“No, I wouldn’t want to be that obvious. A little later, I drove up to the Shelter and went in. First I talked to some of the men I recognized from down town and managed to get a first name. Matt. At least that’s what one of them told me.
“Anyway, none of them knew a thing about him. They said while he always listens to what they have to say, he never spoke about himself or how he happened to end up homeless. They all agreed he had a lot of class and that he must have been some kind of professional.”
“That’s interesting.”
“After I had a first name, I spoke to some of the workers at the Shelter, but every one of them said he had never checked in to spend the night. They even let me look at their register, but there was no Matt listed.”
“Where do you think he’s spending the night?”
“I’m assuming he’s spending it down along the creek. As I said, the men mentioned he had a sleeping bag. He probably rolls it out under some bush or under one of the bridges. Tonight I’m going to take a walk along the Creek Path and see if I can locate him.”
“If you do, are you going to talk to him?”
“I’ll have to play that one by ear. It does bother me that he’s obviously spending the night down there. Makes me strongly suspect he might be the Boulder Creek Killer.”
Amanda’s heart sank as she realized there was a possibility that Gary could be right, but there was such a strong chemistry between her and the homeless man, she couldn’t believe that to be the case. Surely, she wouldn’t be attracted to a serial killer.
On the other hand, how could she be so sure of herself? She remembered a book of true crime she had read a few years previously. Three well-educated women had been attracted to a man who had killed two of his wives before he was caught in an attempt to kill the third one. Now he was living out a life sentence in an Oregon prison.
She had never been as attracted to a man as she was to this homeless one. She wished she understood her feelings. It was going to break her heart if he turned out to be the Boulder Creek Killer. If that were the case, she would never trust her judgment again.
“I have never run across anyone who seems to have appeared out of the blue the way this man has,” Gary said. “No background. No nothing. I’m wondering if I should talk to the police about him. Since he obviously spends the night somewhere around the Creek Path, I keep going back to the fact that it looks very suspiciou
s.”
“Oh, please don’t do that,” she said. “What if he is perfectly innocent and we get him into trouble with the police?”
“If he’s innocent, he shouldn’t mind being questioned by them.”
Amanda said nothing. She wasn’t about to tell Gary she didn’t agree with him. She didn’t understand what was involved in being a detective, but since he had Sloan’s strong recommendation, he must know what he was doing.
Gary said he had no more to tell her, but he would keep her posted if he came up with anything. She thanked him and headed up to her parents’ house for dinner.
Experiment in Terror (Koehler Brothers Book 1) Page 7