The Bogey Man

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The Bogey Man Page 14

by Marja McGraw


  Pete showed up while I was sitting on the couch trying to sort everything out in my mind.

  “I met with Traci Marks this morning,” he said.

  “Did you learn anything?”

  “Not much. She did say she’d gone outside for some air and saw Purity prowling around after everyone thought she’d left. I’ve got to tell you, Traci is kind of an airhead.”

  “I hate that expression, Pete.”

  “Sorry, but she is. To listen to her, the whole thing is just a good story. She’s been calling her family and telling all of her friends that she was there when Purity Patton was killed. Like it’s some sort of an honor. She’s getting some mileage out of it and doesn’t seem too interested in the fact that there was a murder. She was there, and that’s what’s important to her. Not Purity’s death.”

  “Okay, so some people are shallow, and she’s one of them. Did she say anything else?”

  “Yeah. She saw Purity heading around the side of Felicity’s house.”

  I thought about that. “Did she say what time that was?”

  “Shortly before the fire broke out, which leads me to believe the fire was set to draw us all out of the house.”

  “Which is what we thought all along.”

  “Right.” Pete sat down on the couch, next to me. “We really don’t have much to go on with this case.”

  “You’re more right than you know. I called Jolly, and his studio was broken into last night. Give you one guess what was taken.”

  “Don’t tell me, the photos.” Pete closed his eyes and looked disgusted.

  “And the negatives, and an undeveloped roll of film.”

  Pete opened his eyes. “So there had to be something in the photos.”

  Bubba began doing a dance, letting me know he wanted to go outside again. “I need to put in a doggie door.”

  Pete frowned. “I don’t think they make them big enough for that mutt.”

  I ignored Pete’s comment and let Bubba out the back door, returning to the living room with a question for Pete.

  “Did Traci remember who she saw in the yard during the fire?”

  “She said she remembered seeing Mavis because she was talking lawsuit, as usual, and of course she saw us, and she saw the Bogey Man standing near the corner of the house. Other than those few, she was paying more attention to the fire.”

  I reached for the phone.

  “Who are you calling?” Pete asked.

  “Mavis. The one thing I forgot to ask her was who she saw outside during the fire. Did you remember to ask Jason Redman?”

  “He said he wasn’t paying any attention to who was there.”

  I dragged my backpack over Pete’s lap, looked through it for Mavis’s number, and dialed her house.

  “This is Mavis Brewer. I’m not in right now, but if you’ll leave a message…”

  I listened to Mavis and chuckled.

  “What?” Pete asked.

  “It’s her answering machine. She sounds so whiney, even in her message.”

  Since the woman didn’t want any more to do with me, I tried sounding as sweet as possible, asking her to call me with the names of anyone she saw outside that night. “Please, Mavis, it really is important. You could hold the key to this murder and not even know it.” I thought that might get her.

  “Sandi, you’re really something.” Pete smiled at me and reached for my hand.

  The doorbell rang and I glanced at Pete. I cringed when I realized who would be on the other side of the door.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  The doorbell rang a second time.

  “Pete, you’re sure you’re okay with Chris now?” I asked.

  “Chris? Yeah.” Pete hesitated before answering me, not a good sign.

  Standing up, I headed for the door. The bell sounded again, almost insistently.

  “Good morning, Cupcake,” Chris said. He looked happy, yet tired.

  Pete walked up behind me.

  “Oh.” Chris reached for Pete’s hand. “Good to see you, Goldberg.”

  “Same here.” Pete rudely looked Chris up and down, from his fedora to the old-fashioned brown shoes.

  “Listen, Cross, let’s get one thing straight, right here and right now.”

  Last names? Another guy thing. I rolled my eyes, but no one saw me. They were too busy studying each other. I glanced at Pete, wondering what was coming.

  “When you’re with Sandi, I expect you to watch out for her. If she’s dumb enough to let you tag along, you need to cover her back.”

  “Excuse me?” My loving fiancé had called me dumb. “You just crossed an important line, Pete.”

  He turned to me. “I’m sorry, Sandi. That was a poor choice of words, but you know what I mean. This guy doesn’t have any experience, and you’re letting him ride with you anyway.”

  Shoulders tightening and eyes narrowing, I made a point of hmphing before I replied. “I think Chris can take care of himself, and I can certainly take care of myself. I’ve been doing fine for a long time. On my own. Without anyone’s help.”

  Pete and Chris turned to me with disbelieving expressions on their faces.

  “Well, I have.” I let it go. Sometimes it’s just easier to ignore the male ego and its need to take care of the little woman. I tried, almost successfully, to take that need as a compliment.

  Chris pulled the brim of his hat down. “Don’t worry, pal, I can take care of both of us. You may think I dress funny, but that doesn’t mean I’m not capable of protecting Sandi.”

  “I hope you’re right. If anything happens to her, I’m holding you responsible.”

  “Okay, boys, that’ll be enough.” I didn’t like the way they were talking over my head, or the way things were headed. “No one needs to take care of me. Besides, nothing’s going on.”

  Pete narrowed his eyes. “Yeah? What about a dead body at a costume party? What about Felicity? Her eye didn’t blacken itself.”

  Chris’s expression changed to one of concern. “What happened to the little pumpkin?”

  I waited for Pete to answer Chris, but apparently he’d said all he was going to.

  I sighed and pursed my lips in resignation. “When Felicity got home last night, someone had broken in. Whoever it was hit her in the face before running out the door.”

  “Was it a burglary?” Chris asked.

  “Yeah,” Pete replied. “But the only things he took were the pictures of the party.”

  “Really. Huh. So you were right, Sandi. There is something in those photos.”

  “And where were you last night?” Pete was in a mood. So much for being okay with the Bogey Man.

  “I was out. Besides, I don’t know any of these people, so why would I worry about the pictures?”

  “You tell me.” I couldn’t believe how obstinate and ornery Pete was acting.

  “Pete, Chris is a mailman. He’s not part of that crowd.”

  I turned to Chris. “I don’t suppose your mail route includes any of their neighborhoods?”

  “No.”

  “So, Pete, quit it.” I’d had about enough, and I needed to get to work.

  “Yeah, well…” Pete didn’t know what else to say. Thankfully. “I’ve got to get to the office. See you later, Sandi.” He gave me a peck on the cheek and turned to leave. Apparently thinking better of it, he stopped and turned back, giving me a major smack on the lips.

  I heaved a sigh of relief when Pete walked out the door. “Sorry, Chris, but I think Pete might be jealous.”

  “I would be, too, Sandi. You’re a beautiful dame, and he – ”

  I didn’t want to hear anymore. “Okay, let’s figure out what we’re going to do today.”

  “What have I missed so far?” Chris wanted an update. I kept it brief.

  “We’ve been interviewing some of the guests from the party. I talked to Mavis Brewer yesterday, and – ”

  “That must have been a hoot. Did she threaten to sue you?”

  “She
was probably thinking about it. Anyway, she does recall hearing someone running, but she couldn’t really add anything else to what we already know. I left a message for her to call me because I forgot to ask who she saw outside during the fire.”

  The doorbell rang. Busy morning at the Webster house.

  “Hi, Sandi. Just thought I’d stop by.” Sharon Stone stopping by was like a tidal wave headed my way.

  “Sharon, what are you doing here? Never mind. I need to talk to you anyway.”

  “Oh, hi there.” She gave the Bogey Man one of her most innocent smiles.

  He returned the smile, but didn’t speak. Chris leaned against the wall and watched us.

  “Sharon,” I said, “who do you remember seeing during the scarecrow fire at the party?”

  “What? You can’t at least invite me in?”

  “Sorry, come on in.”

  “If I share with you, are you going to share with me?”

  “You’re trying my patience. Will you just answer the question? This is a murder investigation, not the time for you to try to trade favors.”

  She seemed to mull that over for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I just want you to remember that you said you’d give me the story first. That is, if you find the killer.”

  “You should trust Sandi,” Chris interjected. “She’ll crack this case wide open.”

  “Who is this guy?” Sharon pointed a long, painted nail at Chris.

  “Well? Who does he look like?”

  “He looks like an old time movie star. Can’t remember his name, but yeah, I’ve seen him before.”

  “Humphrey Bogart. Okay? Now who did you see?” I thought about letting Bubba back in the house. He intimidated Sharon. She’d probably answer my question just so she could leave.

  “Yeah, that’s who he is. Humphrey Bogart.” Sharon could be a real pain sometimes. Didn’t she have any common sense or sense of time?

  “Yes, Sharon, this is Bogey. After all these years he hasn’t aged a bit. Can you believe that?” I sighed, big time.

  “Oh, yeah. Guess he’d be an old man by now.”

  “Will you pulease just answer my question?”

  “Oh. Certainly. I saw you and Pete.”

  “And…?” It was like pulling teeth.

  “Uh, and I saw that woman who wanted to sue everyone.” She watched Chris like she was waiting for his approval.

  “Anyone else?”

  “I can’t remember. I was watching you and Pete put out the fire, and… Oh yeah. I saw that game show girl, uh, Traci Marks. But by the time I turned away from you and Pete, everyone was heading back into the house.”

  “Some reporter you are,” I said disgustedly.

  “Well, I was counting on that photographer. He said he’d take pictures for me, and for the newspaper. But I stopped by his place on my way over here, and it seems someone broke in last night and stole all the pictures. Now why would someone steal pictures when all the expensive equipment was sitting around? I just don’t get it.”

  “No, I’m sure you don’t. Why are you really here, Sharon?”

  She glanced at Chris one more time. “Are you sure that’s not the movie star?”

  “Sharon, Humphrey Bogart passed on back in the 1950’s. No, this isn’t the real Bogey.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I had to fight to keep from grabbing her by the throat. “Use your common sense. Please. And then leave. I’ll let you know if we come up with anything.”

  Sure I would. Uh huh. About the same time the Mohave Desert was under ten feet of snow.

  She looked thoughtful for a moment. “You know, there was someone else taking pictures that night.”

  “Who?” Chris asked.

  “I’m trying to remember.” She tapped her chin.

  “Please, Sharon, this is really important. Try to think who it was.”

  “Uh, I recall turning around because of a flash, but I didn’t see that Jolly guy.”

  I tapped my foot, wanting to shake Sharon. I controlled myself.

  “Oh, yeah, now I remember. It was that little Frankenstein guy.”

  “You mean Stanley?” I couldn’t believe it.

  “Yes, that’s the one. He works for you, doesn’t he? Well, now who’s the ninny?”

  “Sharon, you’ve done it again. I could kiss you, but we’re busy right now, so I’ll just say good-bye.” I shoved her out the door and closed it before she could stop me.

  “Kinda gave her the bum’s rush, didn’t ya?” Chris asked.

  “Wouldn’t you have done the same thing?”

  He grinned. “Yeah. So what now? Are you going to call Stanley and ask him about the pictures?”

  I was already reaching for the phone. “Of course.”

  Felicity answered on the first ring.

  “Felicity, is Stanley there?” I tapped my foot impatiently.

  “Hi, Sandi. He just left to pick some things up for me at the store. Do you want me to have him call you back?”

  “Yes. Do you remember if Stanley took any pictures during the scarecrow fire? I’d forgotten that he had his camera, too.”

  Silence.

  “Felicity?”

  “Give me a second. I’m trying to remember what was going on.”

  What was wrong with me? I seemed to be impatient with everyone lately.

  “I remember Stanley taking pictures during the party, but… I can’t remember if he took any during the fire or not. Weren’t you going to ask Jolly if he took any outside?”

  “Someone broke in and stole Jolly’s photos and the negatives last night. He did recall taking some shots during the fire, but the thief took that roll of film, too.”

  “Obviously those pictures hold some kind of a key to Purity’s murder,” Felicity said.

  “Obviously.”

  “I’ll have Stan… Hold on, Sandi. I just heard him pull into the driveway.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  I waited while Felicity went to the door and called to Stanley. He sounded out of breath when he spoke to me.

  “What can I do for you, Sandi? Felicity said you needed to ask me an important question.”

  “Stan, you took pictures the night of the party. Do you remember if you took any during the fire?”

  I heard a sound and wondered if he’d thumped himself on the forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that? Of course I did.”

  A feeling of relief passed over me.

  “Did he?” Chris asked from behind me.

  I held up my hand to shush him.

  “Who is that?” Stanley asked.

  “It’s Chris. So will you either rush the film to be developed, or even better, can I pick it up from you?”

  “I don’t have the camera here. It’s at my apartment. I’ll pick it up and bring it over to you.”

  “No, I’ll meet you at your apartment.” I wanted to have possession of that film. I wanted it in my hot little hands where I could be sure nothing would happen to it.

  Stanley was quiet for a moment. “Will Chris be with you?”

  “Yes, he will. Is that a problem?”

  “Nooo.” He dragged the word out, not quite convincing me.

  “Stan, I’ll meet you in half an hour. Okay?”

  “Yes, I’ll see you then.”

  We hung up and I turned to Chris. “He did take pictures. We’re going to meet him at his apartment and I’m taking the film to be developed.”

  “Okay. Let’s scram outta here.” Chris walked out and waited on the porch for me.

  After checking Bubba’s water bowl, I grabbed my backpack and met Chris on the porch.

  “Let’s take my car,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “Humor me. I’d like to do the driving once in a while. Besides, that ol’ green Chevy is so, well, so Bogey.”

  I thought about it and grinned. “That might be fun. Me and Bogey cruising the streets of Los Angeles in an old Chevy Coupe. Yeah, let’s take your car.”


  The Bogey Man grinned and led the way to his car, where he opened the door and motioned me in.

  I climbed in and looked around while he walked around to the driver’s side. The car had been beautifully restored. Even the upholstery looked like the original, although I thought it had probably been replaced.

  “Does this car have any guts?” I asked. “I mean, if you had to chase someone, or run, could you do it?”

  “You can bet your life on it.”

  I sincerely hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

  “The only change I made to this little baby was to rebuild and soup up the engine.” He started to tell me what kind of changes he’d made, but being me and not a car person, I had no idea what he was talking about.

  “I’ll take your word for it.” Of course, he’d added seatbelts, so I fastened mine.

  I gave him directions to Stanley’s apartment and we made it in just over twenty minutes. Stanley hadn’t arrived yet, so we sat in the car and talked.

  “What do you think these pictures are going to tell you?” Chris asked.

  “Hopefully they’ll show everyone who was outside during the fire. Anyone not in the photos is an automatic suspect. We have plenty of people with motive, but so far no one sticks out more than the others.” I knew I was holding out hope based on some costume party pictures, but I didn’t really have anything else to go on at the moment.

  “Who’s on your suspect list? I know you’re looking at Joshua King, for obvious reasons. And Mavis Brewer found the body and had her hand on the knife. But who else?”

  “Unfortunately, Felicity is one of the suspects. It seems that she and Purity had a history. They’ve had a number of arguments over the years.

  “Then, of course, there’s Pamela. Personally I think it’s kind of a stretch, but Purity was about as angry as a woman can be when she saw Joshua and Pamela together.”

  Chris scratched his chin. “I don’t think the dish did it. Nah, Pamela’s just a working stiff who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “You’re probably right, but we’ve got to look at her, too.” I glanced up. “Here comes Stanley now.”

  I climbed out of the car and, with Chris following, walked up to the door of Stanley’s apartment.

  He opened the door without a word and waited for us to enter, following behind.

 

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