It Takes a Photographer

by Edward Kendrick

  "He's been out of town since Thursday," she replied as she eyed, but didn't stop, him.

  "I presume you're his wife?" Lou said.

  She snorted softly. "That bitch? Not even. Okay. Pardon my language. I'm Beth Garland and, no, we're not married. That's not in the cards at the moment. Not until… Well, it's none of your business, is it? I'm fine. I didn't make the call. I seriously doubt Floyd did, since he's in New York at the moment." She looked between them defiantly, as if daring them to challenge her words.

  "All right. Sorry to have bothered you," Quint said, going back into the hallway. "Thank you for talking with us."

  "No problem." She stepped back and closed the door.

  Lou waited until he and Quint were in the elevator before saying, "She's lying. Not about him battering her, since there weren't any contusions. But did you get a look at her neck? She was trying to hide it with the collar of her blouse, but I could see what definitely looked like bruises. Fading, but there."

  "You've got better eyes than I do," Quint replied. "I didn't notice that. But then, I was watching her expressions and I agree. She was lying. The question is, why? Does she feel self-conscious because he attacked her for some reason? Or was there someone else in the apartment that night who did, and she doesn't want to admit it, in case we say anything to Seaver when he comes home?"

  "The first thing to do is find out if he really is in New York, and, if so, was he there Friday evening," Lou said.

  "Of course." Quint looked a bit amused as he added, "Since this is your case—presuming we have a case—you get to do that. Also—and we should have done this sooner—we have to find his ex-wife."

  "And hope she's alive."

  "Exactly. Let's head back to the station and get to work."

  "Not tonight," Lou replied. "I'm still on the clock, now that my dinner break's over, and you're off until tomorrow morning. Go home and play with Jamie and"—he winked—"Clay."

  Quint laughed, pointing out they wouldn't be able to talk to Seaver's employer until the following morning, anyway, as it was now almost seven. "If you have an address and phone number for Seaver's ex," he said when they got to Lou's car, "I can give her a call tonight."

  "Not with me. I'll call her when I get back to the precinct. Or, better yet, I can call the precinct, get the address, then stop by to talk with her in person right now if she's there."

  "Okay. Either way, let me know what happens and that she's all right."

  Lou nodded. "She's probably fine, given the fact Ms Garland's the one sporting bruises on her throat. Still…better to be sure."

  Quint agreed, and they left it at that for the moment as they headed their separate ways.

  *****

  Half an hour after Quint arrived home, he got a call from Lou.

  "I went to see Coleen Rogers, the ex Mrs Seaver, who's back to using her maiden name. I told her I was trying to contact Mr Seaver—but not why—and hoped she had a more recent address than the one on file for him."

  "Presumably the one she has is for the apartment building," Quint said.

  "Yep. She had a few not-so-kind words about Ms Garland and the fact she was one in a long line of, as she put it, his whores."

  Quint chuckled. "It sounds like she still harbors a grudge about the cause for the divorce."

  "No kidding. Obviously, she was not the woman in the photo. I have the feeling she'd have throttled him, if she could have gotten her hands on him."

  "So we don't have a case, since both she and Ms Garland are alive, and Ms Garland is the one sporting, as you put it, a bruised neck. Or, more like trying to hide it."

  "Yep," Lou agreed. "I'm still going to call Seaver's work in the morning to tie up that loose end. If he was in New York Friday evening, then Ms Garland might have someone else on the side, someone who maybe isn't too happy she's with Seaver—not that it's any of our business."

  "Nope. If she does, there's nothing we can do about his assaulting her—if that's what happened—since she didn't report it."

  "Or tell us when we spoke with her," Lou said.

  They left it at that for the moment and hung up.

  Chapter Four

  The first thing Wednesday morning, Lou went to the accounting firm Seaver worked for. It was downtown, on the third floor of an older, ten-story building on Seventeenth Street, where many banks and non-retail businesses were located.

  Close to his apartment. I wonder if he chose to move in there because of its proximity to his job. "Good morning," Lou said to the receptionist. "I'm looking for Mr Floyd Seaver."

  "I'm afraid he's not here at the moment."

  "May I talk to his immediate superior?"

  "That would be Mr Johnson. If you'll wait, I'll see if he's available. What may I say this is in reference to?"

  Lou took out his badge, replying, "I'd rather tell Mr Johnson in person, if you don't mind."

  She frowned before picking up the intercom phone. A moment later she told Lou, "He'll be with you in a moment."

  A door at the side of the waiting room opened and an older man entered. "How can I help you?" he asked, coming over to Lou.

  "I'm looking for Mr Seaver. Let's talk in private." Lou glanced at the receptionist.

  "If you'll come with me." Mr Johnson led to way to a large office, waving to a chair by the desk. After both men were seated, he looked expectantly at Lou.

  "I understand Mr Seaver isn't here. Is he still in New York?"

  "New York?" Mr Johnson seemed puzzled. "Who told you that?"

  "An acquaintance of his. She said he went there last Thursday, presumably on business, and was still there, as of last night."

  "Very strange." Mr Johnson frowned. "He was at work on Friday. All right, let me amend that. He came in on Friday but left around two, saying he was feeling ill."

  "Has he been back since then?"

  "No. I had my secretary call when he didn't come in Monday morning. There was no answer—to the call or to emails she sent him. When he didn't show up again yesterday, she tried again to get in touch with him."

  "And today?"

  "Actually, I was about to have her call, just before you arrived." Mr Johnson shook his head. "I have the feeling, especially since you're here and obviously looking for him, that I don't have to have her do that."

  "I'd say not," Lou agreed. "Is there any reason, relating to what he does here, that he might have skipped town?"

  "Good Lord, no. He's an accountant—a fairly low one on the totem pole, if you want the truth. He doesn't work with any of our major clients."

  "So he wouldn't have been in a position to play around with the books for a client, either at their behest, or…whatever?" Lou was very certain that wasn't the reason for Seaver's disappearance, but it gave him a reason to be interested in the man, without revealing why he was looking for him in the first place.

  "Not at all," Mr Johnson replied.

  "All right. Thank you for talking with me." Lou handed the man his card. "If you do hear from him or if he shows up, please call me."

  Mr Johnson promised he would, then Lou left.

  *****

  Quint had just arrived back at the precinct when Lou came in to work. "Anything?" he asked Lou.

  "Seaver didn't go to New York as part of his job." Lou went on to relate his conversation with Mr Johnson.

  When Lou finished, Quint said, "That makes me wonder if he left work early so he could catch Ms Garland with her other boyfriend, presuming she has one."

  "My thought, too. If he walked in on them and there was a fight—"

  "And, in the process, he tried to strangle Ms Garland. Possible. But if that's the case, why didn't she tell us? Why lie and say he'd been out of town since Thursday?"

  "Because they killed him?" Lou suggested.

  "If there was a 'they'. On the other hand, that could hold true if it was just her, if she managed to turn the tables on him."

  "Either way, from what we know and don't know, I'd say there's a goo
d possibility he's dead."

  "It's what we don't know that we have to find out," Quint said. "Going back to talk to her isn't going to work. If she's responsible for his disappearance, she'll just play it the same way she did last night—calm, cool and collected. She'll insist Seaver left for New York on Thursday, and she hasn't seen him since."

  "You'd think, if she's his newest girlfriend, he'd at least have called. She didn't say he had."

  "And we didn't ask, which was our fault. On the other hand, we were looking at things from the perspective of her possibly being a murder victim. Obviously, she wasn't."

  "If we ask her now, she'll say he has called—probably several times, in fact."

  "Yeah," Quint replied with a nod.

  Lou paced back and forth by Quint's desk, deep in thought. "Presuming we're right, and Seaver didn't just take a powder for some reason…"

  "Yes?" Quint said when he didn't continue.

  "We need to put someone on Ms Garland. Not to follow her around. I doubt she'd lead them to the body, if there is one. We need someone to get up-close and personal with her—within reason. Someone who won't fall for her obvious charms."

  "I see where you're going with this. There are a couple of guys on the force I can think of, offhand, who might be able to handle it."

  "I doubt Harber would go for that, since this is all speculation with nothing to back it up."

  "All we can do is ask," Quint replied.

  "Or, we can go outside of the force and use someone who we know is good at going undercover. We just have to convince him."

  "Three guesses who you have in mind, and the first two don't count."

  Lou gave him a half grin. "He is free—at the moment. Let me call and get him down here. Kevin can handle the gallery on his own for an hour or so."

  *****

  "You're kidding," Rory said, looking at Quint and Lou as if they had lost their collective minds. "What the hell do I know about"—he spread his hands—"romancing a woman?"

  "It can't be all that different from romancing a man," Lou pointed out.

  "And, if you remember correctly, I sucked at that."

  Lou smiled. "Not really. It worked with me. But you don't actually have to romance her, as you put it. Just… Yeah, that could work."

  Quint and Rory looked at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  "There was an Apartment for Rent sign on the front of the building." Lou took out his phone. "With luck, it'll still be available."

  It was. Lou told the woman at the management company that they needed the place for two weeks, as part of a police operation. It took him a while to convince her, but, in the end, she reluctantly agreed to hold the apartment for "Officer" Kinley.

  "I'm a cop now?" Rory asked with a smirk when Lou hung up.

  "What she doesn't know won't hurt her. She'll tell the building manager what's going on and that he's to keep it under his hat."

  "Hopefully he's not the gossiping type," Rory said.

  "She assured me he isn't. You can pick up the keys from him and pay the rent at the same time."

  "He'll need furniture," Quint pointed out.

  "It's a studio apartment, so not that much. We can use one of those furniture rental places," Lou replied.

  "Who's paying for all this?" Rory asked, then sighed. "Why did I even bother to ask? Okay. I'd better get a move on."

  "I'll walk you to your car," Lou said. When they got there, he put his hands on Rory's waist, asking, "Are you all right with this?"

  "Of course. I'm as involved in this as both of you are. I'm not wild about spending the next couple of weeks without you, but it's happened before, when I've been off on jobs for Gideon." Rory grinned. "I can always sneak away and come home for a conjugal visit."

  Lou laughed. "That works."

  They kissed, then Lou returned to work while Rory headed back to their apartment above the gallery to pack enough clothes for the next two weeks. He explained to Kevin and Olivia—who had shown up while he was gone—what was happening.

  "If I'd seen what was going on when I was shooting those pictures…" Olivia said.

  Kevin hugged her. "If you had, it still would have been too late—if someone was really being murdered. I've told you that several times."

  "I know." She kissed his cheek. "Still, I'm glad she's alive. I hope Mr Seaver is, too, although from what Rory's saying, he might not be."

  "Which is why I'm going undercover," Rory said. "And I'd better get moving."

  "Be careful," Olivia told him.

  "Always," he replied with a grin.

  *****

  The manager at the apartment building gave Rory the keys once he'd paid the rent, then escorted him up to the fifth floor to show him which apartment was his.

  "I hope whoever you're after doesn't live in the building," the man said.

  "Nope. I'm staking out the building across the street," Rory replied. He'd come up with that explanation on the drive over, just in case he was asked.

  The man nodded. "Like in those gangster movies."

  "Exactly. By the way, is there a place you can recommend where I can rent some furniture?"

  "Yeah. Up on Colfax." He took out his phone, checked, then gave Rory the number and address. "If you need anything else…"

  "Not that I can think of. If I do, I'll let you know."

  As soon as the manager left, Rory called the furniture place to order what he needed. They were somewhat surprised that he wasn't coming in to pick it out in person, but they agreed to deliver everything by nine that night after he promised to pay in full and said he'd sign the contract for the two week's rental when the furniture was delivered. He gave the woman his credit card information then hung up, muttering, "We'd better have a good month at the gallery to pay for all this." He knew paying wasn't really a problem. Between them, he and Lou were far from hurting financially, especially since the jewelry he created sold for very substantial prices.

  With nothing to do until the furniture arrived, Rory decided to find a nearby place to eat. He had his choice of a coffee shop right across from the apartment building or a restaurant half a block away. He settled on the coffee shop when he discovered they carried a wide variety of sandwiches and that he could sit on the patio, which gave him a good view of anyone coming or going from the apartment building.

  He had just finished eating when he spotted Ms Garland walking down the street. If I was into women, she would definitely be one I'd go after. And since I'm supposed to be just that…

  He left the patio, crossing the street just in time to open the building's front door when Ms Garland got there.

  She looked at him, one eyebrow lifting in question. "You live here?"

  "As of this afternoon. I'm Tony." Tony Marshall, according to the ID he was carrying with him at the moment—one of several he kept on hand as a part of working for Gideon.

  She nodded. "Beth. Beth Garland. Do you mind?"

  Rory grinned. "That that's your name?"

  "No." She huffed. "Moving, so I can get to the lobby door."

  "Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Allow me." He unlocked it, then stood aside.

  "That's okay." She finally smiled. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. It's been a rough day, and I'm exhausted, but I shouldn't be taking it out on you."

  "No problem." He crossed to the elevator, pushing the button, while she got her mail. "What floor?" he asked when the doors opened.

  "Seventh."

  He pressed the buttons for his and her floors, then leaned against the elevator wall, studying her. She caught his look and smiled again, but remained quiet until they were at his floor. "Maybe we'll run into each other again," she said as he got off.

  "I hope so," he replied. "It's always nice to get to know the people you're living with. And that did not come out quite right." He heard her laugh as the elevator doors closed.

  Yeah, I probably need to brush up on my…technique. At least she didn't shoot me down.

  When he got back
to his—at the moment—very empty apartment, Rory sat with his back against the wall and texted Lou to tell him he'd met Beth Garland. He would have called, but when Lou was working, Rory made it a practice to text or, when necessary, leave a voicemail. He got a text back, saying Great. I'll call later. Then, with nothing to do until the furniture arrived, Rory got the book he was reading from one of his bags and settled in to wait.

  Chapter Five

  "We meet again," Rory said when Beth Garland got off the elevator at eight thirty the next morning. He was at the lobby door, as if he'd just entered the building. Of course, he didn't tell her he'd been there for the last half hour, waiting for her to appear. In the process, he'd seen several of the other tenants and spoken to a couple of them in passing.

  Beth seemed surprised, but not unhappily so. "Are you coming or going?" she asked.

  "Coming. I haven't done any grocery shopping yet, so I went out to grab something to eat. Is there a grocery store anywhere close?"

  "Yes. About a mile from here, down Speer. You can't miss it."

  "Thanks. Off to work?"

  She nodded. "Hopefully it'll be better than yesterday."

  "What do you do, if you don't mind my asking?"

  "I'm a secretary. How about you?"

  "I'm a secret agent," Rory replied, straight-faced. Then he grinned. "I wish. I'm a salesman for a firm out of Chicago. This is my first time in Denver."

  "Really?"

  "Really."

  "You'll like the city," she replied as she walked past him, patting his arm as she added "Take care." With that said, she left, hurrying down the street in the direction he'd seen her come from the previous evening. Rory debated following her, then decided she was probably going to wherever she'd parked her car, because the apartment building didn't have its own parking garage. Since his car was in a lot in the opposite direction, he figured she'd be long gone before he got to it.