by Marja McGraw
He hung his head and mumbled something, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.
“What? I couldn’t hear you.”
“I said I’m a mailman.”
“Yeah? You sound like there’s something wrong with that. Delivering mail is a good job. I’d be lost if there wasn’t someone to bring me my mail.”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. It’s a great job, or at least it has its moments. There are some good people on my route. It’s just that, well, it doesn’t quite fit in with my Bogey plans.”
“Ah. I see. And why haven’t you been going to work?”
“I’m on vacation. And having a good time, I might add.”
“Overall, you’ve been following me for a month. How much vacation do you have?”
“Enough. And that’s why I took the vacation. I was following you at night and working during the day, and I was tired. I wanted to be able to watch what you do without any distractions, and not just at night.”
This guy had it bad. He really wanted to be a private investigator, or at least he thought he did. I realized I was right. He needed a taste of the real P.I. life, the part that wasn’t all fun and games.
I pulled up in front of my house, behind Chris’s car. He opened the door, ready to leave. “What time do you want me here in the morning?”
How could I tell him not to come? He seemed so happy to be working with me. Tell him no, I thought. But if I told him no, he’d start following me again. Better to have him where I could keep an eye on him.
I sighed loudly, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was waiting for my answer. “Be here by eight o’clock tomorrow morning.”
He smiled. “Don’t take any wooden nickels, Sweetheart. See you in the a.m.” Sweetheart came out sounding more like shweetheart, the slightly lisping Bogey pronunciation. I couldn’t help but grin.
How corny – wooden nickels. I shook my head and pulled around his car, heading back to the office. I couldn’t explain it, but I wasn’t all that happy when he made me grin. I was trying hard not to like him, but he was so darned cute. He was endearing himself to me.
When I arrived, Pete and Stanley were exactly where I’d left them earlier. “Don’t you two ever get out of the office? Don’t you have somewhere to go? Something to do? People to spy on?”
Pete glanced up at me. “Not today. Lots of paper work to clear up.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re taking care of it. I hate paperwork.”
“And for the most part I only do research here in the office.” Stanley sounded slightly disgusted and turned back to his computer.
“Stan and I were talking about you and your new partner.” Pete watched to see if I’d react.
I crossed my arms and waited, my only reaction, but he didn’t add anything to his statement.
“And?” I asked.
“And we think it’s a mismatch. You and the Bogey Man that is.”
“First of all, he’s not my new partner. Secondly, I’m doing what I can to discourage him from hanging around. So far it’s not working.” Yeah, right, like I hadn’t told him to come back to my house early the next morning.
“Why would it work when you take him to a diner with you as a backup? He thinks you’re taking him seriously.”
I sat down at my desk and shoved my backpack into the drawer. Stalling for time while I thought about Chris, I began rearranging things on my desk.
“I have to be honest, Pete. It’s a little bit fun to have Bogey following me around. And he’s not hurting anything, other than getting on your nerves.”
He nodded. “He does do that. If I call you Angel and Doll and Sweetheart, will you have as much fun with me?”
I was right. Pete was jealous. “Pete, he’s is a novelty. And he is cute, like Felicity said.”
Stanley’s head popped up.
“But I’m not romantically interested in him, and I don’t believe Felicity is either. And trust me, I don’t think he’s interested in either one of us. I’m the means to an end, or at least that’s what he thinks. So in the meantime I’m having a pretty good time. As far as fun, I have a good time with you all the time. Well, at least most of the time. You and I are the ones making wedding plans, even if they are somewhere distant. Either you love me and trust me, or you don’t.”
“Now wait a minute, Sandi. I trust you. I trust you completely. It’s him I don’t trust.”
“Why? He hasn’t come on to me.”
I glanced at Stanley. “And he hasn’t flirted with Felicity. You two are acting ridiculous. And believe me, your attitude is a real turnoff. So if there are any problems with relationships around here, it’s going to be your fault. Not Chris’s.”
Pete and Stanley sat quietly, listening to what I was saying. It surprised me. I figured Pete would be out of his chair and sticking up for himself.
“When you’re right, you’re right. Chris isn’t the problem. I am. And I apologize. It’s that he’s what I always thought you wanted in a man. You seem to enjoy that type of character so much.”
“In the movies, Pete. Not in real life. There’s a huge difference.”
He gnawed on his lip for a split second. “I see what you mean.”
“So do I.” Stanley waved his hand at me like a kid in class who wanted attention. “Felicity has commented that she believes Mr. Cross is an attractive man, but she’s never given an indication that she’s romantically interested in him. Pete and I are our own worst enemies.”
I smiled at hm. “Yes, you are. If you’ll give yourself half a chance, you may actually find something about Chris that you can like. And he’s only a temporary diversion in our lives.” I chuckled. “A quick pit stop in the great race of life.”
Pete seemed to realize it was time to end the discussion. “Did Pamela say anything about Jolly being at her house? Did she give you an explanation?”
“It was an interesting lunch. Joshua King was already there when we arrived, waiting for Pamela. Talk about not having any privacy. Everyone in the diner was staring and pointing. Well, maybe not pointing, but they were staring. And some of them wanted his autograph. One woman even asked for Chris’s autograph.”
“Joshua King was there?” Stanley sounded surprised. “I didn’t realize he was that interested in Pamela. Although he did spend considerable time with her at the party.”
I nodded. “Anyway, Josh invited us to join him. Pamela sat down for a couple of minutes, and she said that Jolly asked her to pose for a photo shoot. He wants to use her picture for a layout. I feel a lot better now that I know what’s going on. I didn’t even have to ask her about it. She volunteered the information to Josh.”
“Did Joshua say anything pertinent?” Pete should have been with me instead of Chris, but I felt my reasons for taking Chris had been valid.
“He confirmed the story about Purity trying to make him believe she was pregnant, and he said he found proof that she was lying.”
Pete grunted.
“So far things seem to be falling into place. Almost too neatly.” Stanley tapped his fingers on his desk, careful not to hit the keyboard.
I turned to Pete. “Have you talked to Rick about the autopsy yet?”
“You know he can’t share that info with me.”
“I also know that Rick is your closest friend, and he frequently tells you things he shouldn’t because you know how to keep your mouth shut. So have you talked to him?”
“Let me say this. Purity was not pregnant. She had the blood alcohol content of a Saturday night drunk, but she wasn’t pregnant.”
“Anything else? Maybe something unexpected?” I knew Pete well. His earlier grunt and his face told me he was trying to do what I’d said, keep his mouth shut.
“There was an abrasion on the back of her head. Whoever killed her knocked her silly before stabbing her.”
I knew there was more. Pete was still holding something back. The more he told me, the more he wouldn’t look me in the eyes, and he’d begun to tap his finger
s. Between him and Stanley, I felt like I was listening to a couple of drummers warm up before performing.
“What else, Pete?”
“She wasn’t pregnant because she’d recently had an abortion. That’s it. There is no more.” He’d spit those words out like a bad taste. “Rick knew I’d end up telling you, but you’re not gonna get the details out of me.”
I was stunned. When Stanley formed an “O” with his mouth, I knew he felt the same way.
“But… That means Joshua King was lying. If she’d had an abortion, why would she take a pregnancy test?”
“Them’s my thoughts about the matter, too, Angel. So why would he lie about it?”
Angel? Was Pete trying to imitate Chris? This wasn’t the time for that, and I had to admit, Chris did it better.
“I don’t know, but I plan to find out. Whether he’s the killer or not, he’s making a point of trying to cover his behind.”
The phone rang and I picked it up. “Webster & Goldberg. May I help you?”
“Sandi, this is Rick. Let me talk to Pete.”
“Hi to you, too.”
“Sorry, but it’s been busy around here. Sometimes I forget my manners. So hello and may I please speak to Pete?”
“Hold on a second.”
I turned to Pete and pointed at the phone. He picked up the receiver at his desk and I pushed the Off button.
“Hey, Rick. What’s goin’ on?”
Pete listened for a moment before groaning. “You’re sure about this?”
After listening for another moment, he said, “Yeah. I understand. I’m surprised, but I understand.”
They spoke for another minute before Pete hung up.
“What is it?” I asked.
Stanley had joined us by this time. “Yes, Pete, what did Rick have to say?”
He had a pained look on his face. “Remember how Pamela had blood on her costume?”
“Yes,” Stanley and I said in unison.
“It was Pamela’s blood.”
“That’s good, isn’t it? Why would that make you groan?” I didn’t get it.
“I’m not done. Most of it was Pamela’s. But there was a spot on the back that wasn’t hers. It was Purity’s blood.”
Chapter Fifteen
It was my turn to groan. I felt like I’d been slapped and then slapped again before I could recover. “I can’t believe Pamela would be involved. She didn’t know Purity. I’m sure of it.”
“Being sure of it and knowing it for a fact are two different things,” Stanley said.
“You’re right. All I can say is that my gut tells me Pamela isn’t involved in this.” I stopped talking, trying to figure out why my gut feeling was adding a sidebar. Something was wrong.
“Wait a minute. You said the blood was on the back of Pamela’s costume? Any chance it was in a spot she couldn’t reach? Like someone, the killer, touched her after the murder?”
Pete rubbed his chin thoughtfully and Stanley tapped his index finger against his lips.
“Well? Did Rick say anything about that?” I thought I might be onto something.
Pete picked up the phone. “He didn’t mention it. I’ll call him back.”
Stanley stopped tapping his lips, folded his hands and placed them in his lap. “Sandi, I never would have thought of that. I’m assuming that’s why you are paid the big bucks.” That was about as close to a joke as Stanley ever came.
I chuckled. “Yeah, the big bucks. Maybe I should give myself a raise.” Nah, I couldn’t afford it.
I stood up and walked to the front window, standing with my hands clasped behind my back and my feet spread apart, trying to formulate a plan. I needed to move on this case, and I needed to do it quickly. I could hear Pete talking, but with the radio on and Stanley tapping on his keyboard, I couldn’t make out his words.
Jolly Wade. The name popped into my head. I’d meant to call and ask him for copies of the photos he’d shot at the party. Now was the time. He was continually snapping pictures and annoying everyone, except for those who were in a constant pose with smiles fixed in place on their faces. Maybe I could pick something up from those pictures. He might have taken a few when we ran outside to douse the burning scarecrow. Maybe we’d learn who’d been outside while Purity was being stabbed. More importantly, maybe we’d learn who hadn’t been outside.
I hurried back to my desk and checked the phone book, looking for a number for Jolly. Nothing. He must not be listed.
Pete hung up from talking to Rick about the blood stain.
“Well?” I looked at him expectantly.
“Could go either way. It would be a stretch, but she could have reached the spot if she tried hard enough. Like if she had an itch.”
“That doesn’t help much.”
“Looks like we’re going to have to do this the old-fashioned way. Like real life detectives.”
“And I’m going to start by talking to Jolly Wade. I want copies of all the photos he took at the party. You never know what might show up. Now, if I can just find a phone number for him.”
“Try the telephone book,” Stanley suggested.
“Already tried. His number isn’t listed.”
“Give me a minute and I’ll find it for you.” Stanley began tapping the keyboard again.
“Is there nothing sacred?” Pete slowly wagged his head. “It seems like you can find anything about anyone over the Internet. I don’t think I like that.”
“It’s progress, or so they say.” I didn’t like the loss of privacy either.
“Progress can be way overrated.”
Stanley turned from his computer. “Here it is.” He read me the number and I jotted it down.
I dialed Jolly’s number, hoping he was home. “Wade Photography. We specialize in media photos.” A young, bored female voice answered the phone. So much for home. Why hadn’t I thought to look him up under Photographers?
“Is Jolly in?” I asked.
“Who’s calling?”
“This is Sandi Webster. I met Mr. Wade at a party a couple of nights ago. Is he there?”
Without answering, she put me on hold. How rude, and to add insult to injury, I sat for longer than it takes to walk around the block. Or so it seemed.
I heard a click and she was back on the line. “Who did you say this was again?”
“Sandi Webster. I’m a private investigator, and – ”
Another click and I was on hold again. Someone, and it wasn’t Jolly, was about to get an earful from me.
“Mr. Wade says he’s never heard of Randy Fletcher and would you please call back. He’s busy.” Another click and she’d hung up on me.
I redialed the number.
“Wade Photography. We specialize in media photos.”
“This is Sandi Webster again. I’m sorry, but you misunderstood my name. I’d like to speak to Jolly, please.”
“I told you, Mrs. Fletcher, Jolly doesn’t know who you are.”
Click. She hung up on me again.
Gritting my teeth, I punched the Redial button with fervor.
Miss Sweetness answered on the third ring, and before she could speak I let her have it. Oh, how quickly I’d turned from sugar and spice into vinegar.
“This is Sandi, with a capital S, like in snake, Webster, like in dictionary.” Uh oh, that was probably over her head. I held back my sigh so that she wouldn’t have time to interrupt.
“I need to talk to Jolly Wade, and I need to talk to him now. Do not, I repeat, do not hang up on me again. Put him on the phone, because if I have to come over there in person, we’re going to have words that you won’t like. Understand?”
Pete had only heard my side of the conversation, but he clapped his hands as though I was entertaining him, which I guess I was. Stanley joined in. I motioned them to be quiet.
I was greeted with male laughter instead of Tiffany’s voice. “Sandi Webster? Like the dictionary? This is Jolly. Sorry, but good help is hard to find. What can I do for you
?”
“Jolly, I’m sorry, but that woman is, well, never mind. I need to ask you for a favor.”
“And what would that be?”
“Can you print copies of all the pictures from the party for me?”
“I dropped a set off for Felicity. Maybe you can borrow hers?”
“Thanks. I’ll run right over there. Again, I’m sorry you had to listen to my tirade.”
“No need to apologize. Tiffany is my niece, and she’s a real piece of work. She obviously had it coming. You’re not the first person she’s ticked off. I can’t say anything to her or my sister will have my hide.”
“You have my sympathy.”
We hung up and I called Felicity to be sure she was still home. She didn’t answer, so I tried her cell phone. She answered right away.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“I’m on my way to your office.”
“I don’t suppose you have the pictures that Jolly took at the party with you, do you?”
“That’s why I’m coming over. I wanted to show them to all of you. Not only are they good, but I thought you’d want to see what he shot. He’s got a couple of good ones of when Purity arrived and threw her fit.”
“You read my mind. That’s exactly what I want to see.”
“I’m turning the corner right now, so I’ll see you in about ten seconds.”
Pete and Stanley had been watching me intently since I called Jolly and thought I was talking to Tiffany. They continued to watch as I counted to ten, walked over to the door and opened it just in time for Felicity to walk in.
Pete and Stanley applauded me again. I bowed in their direction.
“What was that all about?” Felicity asked.
“Nothing. Let’s take a look at those photos.”
Initially I went through them quickly, wanting to see what types of pictures he’d taken, laying them out on my desk as I did so. Pete joined me at the desk and we studied them more closely.
“Good picture.” Felicity held up the one Jolly had taken when we first arrived. “Definitely Bogey and Bacall.”