by E B Corbin
“For now. I shouldn’t have to tell you to not leave town.”
Henry laughed. “We wouldn’t dream of it.”
With the door closed, Henry turned to Sam. “Why didn’t you tell him the truth?”
“I’m not sure I trust him.”
“Sooner or later it’s going to come out and he’ll know we lied.”
“No need to worry about that yet. I received a text from Stacy while you were brown-nosing the detective. It seems there’s been an interesting development.”
Chapter Seven
Sam held up her phone. “She said she couldn’t make it but her father was available to take us around today.”
Henry tilted his head. "Norman?”
She said her father would be happy to show us some homes. We can meet him at their office this morning at 10:30.” Sam almost laughed at the surprise on Henry’s face.
“I thought he was in jail,” Henry said.
“Must have made bail or maybe they didn’t have enough to hold him. We’ll find out this morning. It’s better than trying to get information from Stacy. We’ll get a chance to check out the man himself.”
“We’re supposed to be looking at houses. How are we going to bring up his arrest?”
“I think it seems natural for us to question his capability, given what we know from the news report. Surely, all his clients are curious. We can’t be the only ones.”
“If he has other clients. His office doesn’t appear very prosperous.”
“Could be he spent all his income on taking care of his wife.”
“Yeah, all the more motive to get rid of her.”
“That’s what I’m hoping we find out.” Sam texted Stacy that they would be there and were looking forward to meeting her father.
While Henry cleaned up the kitchen, Sam took a shower and was ready to go by ten o’clock. The receptionist at the desk signaled them over as they passed through the lobby.
“I don’t know if Jason told you, but we’ve had some problems with break-ins on the other floors.” She made eye contact with Henry, ignoring Sam. “Things have gone missing.”
“Were the residents harmed?”
“No one until Mrs. Magruder. It always happened during the day when the occupants were at work or out running errands. Nothing big has been reported stolen. Inexpensive jewelry and small amounts of cash if it was around.” The receptionist, her name tag read Julie, leaned over the counter to whisper. “I thought you should know to be cautious. Jason doesn’t always mention it to his guests.”
“How long has this been going on?” Henry leaned forward keeping his voice low to match hers.
“Since they started renovating the units in the building last year.”
“And they haven’t caught anyone?” Henry dipped his head to feign interest. “Doesn’t say much for the competence of the cops.”
“Oh, the building owners didn’t report it at first. They were trying to sell more condos and if word got out about security issues…” Julie shifted her shoulders.
Sam grew tired of being ignored. She couldn’t fathom how the occupants would let such occurrences slide. “Why didn’t any of the victims report the incidents themselves? Isn’t there a homeowners association or something?”
“There is, sort of. It’s not very active from what I know. The owners of the building keep a pretty tight control over most issues.” Julie glanced at Sam but returned her gaze to Henry before she continued. “Some did insist on talking to the cops. Most didn’t. They were promised full reimbursement for their losses if they kept quiet.”
Sam decided to say no more. Unless someone broke into their unit and took her laptop or tried to stab her or Henry, she didn’t care about the drama in the building. Henry, on the other hand, could keep up to date with anything they needed to know by sweet-talking Julie. She took a small step back to relinquish the conversation to Henry. She hoped he would make it fast. Norman Bledsoe awaited.
He cleared his throat to gain a little time when he realized Sam was leaving it up to him. Finally, he said, “It’s amazing they were able to keep it under wraps as long as they did.”
“The incidents have occurred on different floors each time. Residents of one floor may never come in contact with another floor. It wasn’t that hard to keep things quiet.” She looked around to make certain no one overheard, but the lobby was empty except for Sam and Henry.
“But now there’s been a murder, they can’t keep it quiet any longer,” Henry said.
Julie’s shoulders tweaked. “It doesn’t matter anymore. They’ve been working on remodeling each and every unit and have finished all the other floors. Most of them sold as soon as they were finished. The owners of the building moved all the residents from eight to refurbished units. When they offered them at a discounted price, the occupants jumped at the opportunity.”
“Mrs. Magruder was still there. Was her unit supposed to be empty too?” Henry saw how the thief could have been surprised by her presence, but didn’t understand why that would cause him to stick a knife in the poor woman.
Julie sat back on her stool and sighed. “It was, but she refused to move. Claimed her apartment didn’t need any changes, she was happy with it just the way it was. She’d owned it for several years, was one of the oldest residents. It kind of threw a wrench into the building owners’ plans.”
“Why is that? One older unit shouldn’t cause a problem. Especially since she owned it.”
“The corporation that owns the land and building infrastructure made a deal with Jason for Stay Andrew to purchase all the apartments on eight as short-term rentals. They couldn’t wait any longer and had to start renovations on the eighth floor. I can tell you Mrs. Magruder was not happy about it. She raised quite a ruckus. Even threatened to turn them in to Development Services to make sure they had all the proper permits. I know it’s not right to speak ill of the dead, but she was a bit of a pain, let me tell you. Always complaining to me or the building super about something.”
“Do you think that has anything to do with her murder?”
“Oh no!” Julie’s eyes grew wide. “I can’t imagine Donny doing anything like that.”
“I take it Donny is the building superintendent.”
“ Yeah. He’s the nicest guy, sweet and always trying to help. One time a bee got in the O’Briens’ place, Donny caught it in a jar and came down here to release it outside. If he wouldn’t kill a bee, I can’t imagine him stabbing Mrs. Magruder, no matter how unpleasant she became. No, I think whoever is robbing those places didn’t expect anyone to be in the apartment.”
“Is the lobby entrance locked at night?”
“Sure, all the tenants have the code to get in. The construction guys, too, in case they have to get in before I get here in the morning or after I leave.”
“That leaves a lot of possibilities. But the entry doors to each unit are all steel and we have two locks on our door. One of them a deadbolt. Did Mrs. Magruder have the same setup?”
“Sure. All the units are the same. The construction crew has a master key that overrides all the locks since they may need access during the day when no one is home.”
“Does Donny have one too?”
“Oh, no. If he needs to gain entrance to a unit, he has to make arrangements with the occupants to let him in.”
“What if he needs to get in because it’s an emergency, like an overflowing sink or an electrical fire and no one is home?”
“Then he contacts one of the building owners and they come immediately. That seldom happens, though. Only once since I’ve been working here did Stu Johnston’s dishwasher spring a leak. That created a mess, I can tell you.”
Henry assumed Sam wanted to know as much as possible about the murder in case Detective Munroe came back with more questions for them. He wouldn’t mind knowing more either. When on an op with the Seals his motto was “you can never have too much information.” So far, it hadn’t failed him. “So if it wasn’t Donny
and it wasn’t you, it could be one of the building owners or more than likely one of the laborers. Have they been questioned?”
“The owners would never do such a horrible thing. A murder in the building is not good public relations. And the general contractor claims he trusts everyone on his crew. He claims he checks the background and references for each one thoroughly before he hires them.”
“How many in the crew and how many have keys?”
“There’s anywhere between twenty to thirty workers depending on what is needed. And they all have keys.”
“Not very smart. There should be some control over who has unlimited access,” Henry said.
“Tell me about it. I’ve been getting grief from the residents ever since they heard about Mrs. Magruder on the news.”
Sam had no clue as to why Henry was continuing this conversation. She wished he would bring an end to it. Although she considered murder, any murder, appalling, they didn’t need to solve it. Yes, it was horrible, but it was none of their business. They would be late to see Norman Bledsoe if they didn’t leave soon. She nudged Henry with her foot.
He moved his foot out of her reach. “And no one has any idea who’s responsible?”
“The cops suspect it’s one of the workers. But they haven’t been able to pinpoint anyone specific.” She shuddered. “I wish they would solve this soon.”
“You never noticed any suspicious characters hanging around?”
“Just the usual delivery men and subcontractors working on the units. I’m not security, I’m just supposed to be welcoming and helpful. This is more than I signed on for. I need to find another job.” Julie twisted her mouth in disgust.
“I wouldn’t be too hasty if I were you. It’ll calm down around here in time.”
Julie sighed. “Yeah, I’d like to believe that. It’s already less hectic. They’ve stopped all construction until they’ve caught the killer and they’re changing all the locks. Lucky for you. Otherwise you’d have hammering and electric saws going all day. But you still need to be careful.”
“We’ll be vigilant,” Henry said. “Thanks for telling us.”
Julie gave him a big smile. “I just thought you should know.”
Sam lost what little patience she’d managed. “We appreciate it.”
Before Julie could delay them longer, she grabbed Henry’s arm and started for the door.
When they were on the sidewalk, out of sight of Julie’s adoring gaze, she let go of Henry’s arm. “What do you make of that? The cops have their choice of suspects from the construction crew to the owners to Jason. So why is Munroe grilling us?”
Henry guided Sam to his right and took a position near the curb as they walked. Even though she was his boss, Henry’s manners didn’t allow him to treat her with any less courtesy. “Don’t know. And why didn’t he warn us about the break-ins?”
“I told you I didn’t trust him. And why did he look into our past?”
Henry turned thoughtful. “And how did he get the info about the FBI? Do they just turn over your record to anyone who asks?”
“I never thought about that. I guess if the inquiry comes from law enforcement, they oblige. I don’t think they’d give it to the average Joe on the street.”
“I think I’m beginning to agree with you about Detective Munroe. He’s a bit too inquisitive about us. You were right to keep our real reason for being here from him.”
“I’m glad you see the light. You’re insistence on coming clean with the cops was getting annoying.” Sam smiled at him as she eased into the passenger side of their car. “You can drive again.”
Henry raised his eyebrows at her. Who was this person who willingly gave up control? Not the Sam he knew. But then he’d only known her for two months or so. They each had a lot to learn about the other.
Sam occupied her mind with the upcoming meeting. She knew she could take as long as necessary to make a decision regarding returning the money, but she feared if she waited too long, any chance of helping him out of his predicament would become moot. She had to figure out how to approach the man who may have killed his wife. And she didn’t have much time.
Because they traveled the same route yesterday, Henry drove with more confidence and speed. They pulled into the parking lot of the Bledsoe Real Estate office in ten minutes.
Everything looked the same when they entered except that a gray-haired woman sat at the front desk instead of Stacy. She looked at them with the eyes of a shark. “May I help you?”
“We were here yesterday and looked at places to buy with Stacy. We’re here this morning to see Norman Bledsoe.” Sam smiled at the woman.
“If you would please take a seat. Mr. Bledsoe will be with you shortly.” The woman didn’t return Sam’s smile and went back to staring at her outdated computer monitor. She made no move to notify her boss of their arrival.
As the minutes ticked by, coming up on 10:45, Sam grew restless. She stood and paced the small area in front of the woman’s desk. She had no name plate or other ID to identify her, but she looked up when Sam cleared her throat. “We were told to be here for a 10:30 meeting. If Mr. Bledsoe is not available, we can come back at a later time.”
The woman glanced at her watch. “‘I’m sure Mr. Bledsoe will be free soon. Let me check.”
With that, she went through a convoluted set of motions to close down her computer before she walked into the back through a dark hallway. Sam looked at Henry. “What a poor excuse for a receptionist. I have half a mind to leave and come back later.”
“Let’s give him a few more minutes. He might have a lot to catch up on. We don’t have anything else to do.”
Sam shrugged. “I guess. Does it seem strange to you that he’s willing to jump right back into showing houses after what he’s been through?”
“Maybe he’s hoping to sell us something. He might need the commission. I didn’t get the impression Stacy was able to handle things herself.”
Before Sam could reply, the older woman came back and dropped into her seat. “He’ll see you now. Last door on the right.” She never looked at them, merely waved her hand in the direction of the hall.
Henry followed Sam, his senses on alert for any buzzing in his head. Nothing came to him and he relaxed his shoulders. “Everything should be all right.”
With a puzzled look, Sam said, “Why wouldn’t it?”
He immediately realized his mistake. He’d have to be careful with any warning he gave in the future. “No reason.”
Even though the door was open, Sam tapped on it when the man at the desk did not look up. At the knock, he used his hands to straighten his rumpled tie, and then ran them through his thick silver hair that could use a trim. “Come in, come in.”
He held out a hand to Sam. He had one of those too-tight grips and phony smiles. She lightly squeezed his fingers in greeting then moved out of the way to allow Henry access, fighting the urge to wipe her hand on her skirt. Weary lines surrounded the corner of the real estate broker’s eyes, his complexion wan and pasty. He looked as if he had spent years in jail as opposed to a few days.
Norman Bledsoe indicated two chairs pulled up to the front of his desk. “Please have a seat.”
When they were settled into the faux leather chairs, he continued. “I have to apologize for my daughter. She’s a bit under the weather today.”
“Oh, sorry to hear that. I hope she feels better soon,” Sam said.
“It’s some kind of bug. I’m sure she’ll kick it in a few days.”
“Did she get any word on her car?”
“Her car?” Norman’s attempt at a confused expression didn’t quite make it.
“It wouldn’t start yesterday after we were run off the road.” Sam answered as if she believed him unaware of what happened.
“Oh yes . . . that.” The older man fiddled with papers on his desk. “Yes, it needs a new starter. Should be ready tomorrow.”
“That’s good. I was concerned she wouldn’t wan
t to work with us any longer.”
“Oh no. Not at all. She tried to borrow a car, but she…” Norman’s voice faded. He looked down at his hands clenched together on the desk top then sighed. “The truth is, she was upset. Didn’t feel comfortable with you two, so she asked me to take over.”
“Did she tell you what happened?”
“Yeah. I can’t understand it. Portland is a fairly liberal city. We don’t have many rednecks causing trouble. Maybe a few out-of-towners who come around to kick up a fuss, but not usually by the Nike plant. They mostly head for the center of the city where they can irritate the most people and get the most publicity. I hope it hasn’t put you off our city.”
“Not me.” Sam turned to Henry. “What about you?”
Chapter Eight
Not surprised that Sam threw the ball to him even when she knew he didn’t agree with her, Henry said, “I’m good.”
“We can handle ourselves,” Sam added.
They heard Norman swallow and watched him fidget. “Yes, well, that was part of the problem. When she saw that both of you carried guns, she became more afraid of you than the punks who ran her off the road.”
“We were just trying to defend ourselves. Stacy too.” Henry wished they would just be honest with the man, but he couldn’t be the one to do it. He was well aware this was still a probationary period with Sam and she was the boss. Maybe their agreement wouldn’t work out so well. He might start to consider alternate plans for the rest of his life.
“The fact that you each had a weapon scared her to death.” Norman paused as he looked past their shoulders at the door.
“I didn’t pull my gun until the passenger in the truck began to shoot at us,” Henry said.
The realtor’s already pasty face paled even more. “She didn’t tell me about that. They shot at you and Stacy?”
“It happened so fast, maybe she didn’t even notice.” Sam tried to reassure him, even though she knew what she said wasn’t true. His daughter probably didn’t tell him because she didn’t want to worry him any more than necessary.