I started down the hallway to the left again, walked through the pool area and was headed back past the cardio equipment when I spied Maggie. She was on a stationary bike. She hadn’t been there before; maybe she’d been in the locker room.
I ducked behind some weight equipment and watched her. She was chatting with another muscular woman as they rode the bikes. I started to test the weights while I kept my eye on her. She kept pedaling, so I kept lifting weights. I did some curls, and then some more. Maggie stayed on the bike, so I did some squats. And some bench presses. I was going to pay for this tomorrow…
Maggie and the other woman finally stopped riding, hopped off the bikes and drank from water bottles while they talked. Then they sauntered off down a hallway that led to the Pro Shop, a snack area and the women’s locker rooms. I stopped lifting, slipped past the weightlifting equipment and followed them. They paused near a table in the snack area. I ducked into the Pro Shop and then sidled out into the hall. I kept my back to Maggie as I halted in front of a vending machine full of water, Gatorade and energy drinks.
“…I can get you the ball,” Maggie was saying.
Had she said “the ball”? I thought. It almost sounded like “dee ball”.
“I really need it,” the other woman said. “I’m prepping for a competition and it’ll really help.”
“Don’t worry,” Maggie said. “I’ll get it, but it’ll cost you.”
“I can pay,” the other woman said.
Maggie said something else, but I didn’t understand it. Then they walked off and I didn’t think it wise to follow them to the women’s locker room, so I strolled back to the front counter.
“What’d you think?” Katrina asked.
“It’s very nice,” I said. “Let me give it some thought.”
“Okay, I’ll call you to follow up.”
“Great.” But I didn’t really mean it.
I moseyed out to the 4-Runner, puzzling over what I’d heard. Maggie had a little business going, probably steroids. Had she and Pete been working together? How could I find out? Who would know?
I glanced at my watch. Barely one o’clock. The Rockies game hadn’t even started, so I had plenty of time for a couple of other things. I pulled out my phone and called Cal.
“What’s up?” he said.
“I need a favor, one where you’ll have to leave your house.”
“What?” He was cautious, worried, I’m sure, that I was going to ask him to do something dangerous. And I didn’t blame him. I had gotten him into some hazardous situations before. But in my defense, there were also times when he hadn’t been in any danger.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “Nothing like that. I want you to help me pick out a ring for Willie.”
“Really? Finally going to propose?”
“Yeah. But I’m keeping it a surprise.”
“That’s great,” he said. “Willie is a wonderful person. And I’d be happy to help.”
“I knew I could count on you. Can you meet me at the Cherry Creek Mall around two? I’ve got a stop to make first.”
“You got it.” He even sounded enthusiastic. Must be a carryover from my news about Willie.
“I’ll see you soon,” I said.
I ended the call and drove back across town to talk to someone else who might be able to shed more light on Maggie and Pete.
Chapter Thirteen
It was hot as I walked up to Pete’s apartment building on Washington Street, and the lack of air conditioning in the old building was noticeable. The stairwell and hallway on the third floor were stifling. No one was around when I knocked on the door of Pete’s neighbor Mason. A moment later I heard heavy footsteps. The door swung open to reveal a man of average height and short dark hair. I guessed his age to be late twenties. He wore gray shorts and a sleeveless white undershirt. His big, muscular arms and legs were visible for all the world – or in this case, me – to see. I’d like to think I’m not overly conscious about my appearance, but around all these well-toned individuals, I was keenly aware that I was not in the best shape.
“Yeah?” His voice was low and held a hint of threat in it. He held some kind of protein shake in his hand and when he took a drink, his biceps flexed powerfully.
“Are you Mason?” I said, feeling like my voice came out in a squeak. This guy could pound me to a pulp if he wanted to.
“Who wants to know?”
I introduced myself. “Your neighbor Jane might’ve mentioned me.”
His face remained impassive.
“I’m a private investigator and I’m looking into Pete Westhaven’s death. Jane suggested I talk to you.”
“Why?”
“You might know something.”
The face remained like stone. “I doubt it.”
“Could I trouble you for a little of your time to ask you a few questions?”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I guess so. Come on in.”
I followed him down a short hallway to his living room. Although Mason’s floor plan was the same as Jane and Pete’s apartments, it was decorated very differently from either of theirs. Mason’s was a shrine to bodybuilding. He had a weightlifting machine against one wall, free weights strewn about the floor, workout magazines on a coffee table in front of a cheap couch, a television against one wall, and a road bike against another. Posters of bodybuilders hung on each wall. But where Jane’s place smelled of perfume, Mason’s apartment had the hint of a gym, musty mixed with stale body odor.
He sat on the couch and waved a hand casually in the air. “Have a seat.”
I glanced around. The only place to sit was on the weight machine bench, so I gingerly sank onto it, afraid I might somehow damage it and owe him money. It looked expensive.
Mason eyed me as he gulped down the rest of his shake. “Well?”
“Jane says you were here when Pete was killed.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, I heard the shot.”
“Did you know it was a gunshot?”
“It was loud, not like a car backfiring or something like that, so yeah, I wondered if it was a gunshot.”
“Were you curious about it?”
“I was working out, so I didn’t pay much attention. And then the police came by and asked if I’d heard it. I said I had, and that it was bad if people were shooting guns in our building, but that was it.”
“What else did you tell them?”
He set his empty glass on the coffee table. “Not much. They asked me if I heard anything else around the time of the shot. I said I didn’t.”
“Did you notice anything unusual around that time?”
“Like someone named Charlie Preston leaving?” he said smugly. “He’s the second baseman for the Rockies. He’s friends with Pete. And I know he’s suspected of killing Pete.”
“Yes, like him.”
“I didn’t go out in the hall, so I have no idea who might’ve visited Pete that night.”
It seemed to be just as Jane said. Mason hadn’t shown any interest in Pete’s death. “How long did you know Pete?” I asked, switching gears.
“Since I moved in a year ago. He was already living here.”
“What’d you think of him?”
The stone face shifted with just the hint of anger. “He was all right, I guess.”
“You don’t seem sure,” I said.
He chose his words carefully. “I didn’t know him very well, but he was…full of himself. Because he worked for the Rockies and was friends with Charlie.”
“Most people say he was really nice.”
“He could be.”
“So Pete wasn’t someone you hung around with.”
He snorted. “Not hardly.”
I was beginning to see why Mason showed no interest in Pete’s death. He didn’t care.
“You didn’t like him,” I said bluntly.
Mason stared at me but didn’t answer.
“From what you knew of Pete, did he have enemies? Who would want him dead?
Someone he had problems with?” I fired off the questions.
“Like I said, we weren’t friends. You might check with his girlfriend.” He shifted on the couch, the biceps bulging. “I guess she’s his ex now, though.”
“Maggie,” I said.
“Yeah. Man, they could fight.”
That piqued my interest. “You heard them?”
“Not when I first moved in, but the last couple of months she’d show up and it seemed they were always arguing about something. And then she showed up here with some other guy. Kind of a cold thing to do, bring your new boyfriend around your ex. Way to rub it in.”
“She was with a new guy?” I kept my surprise in check.
“Yep.”
“You’re sure they were dating?”
“I saw her kiss him outside of Pete’s apartment.”
I leaned forward. “Did you ever hear this other guy’s name?”
“No clue.”
“What’d he look like?”
“Ah, man, I don’t know. He was about my height…I think he had brown hair.” He held up a finger. “But I remember he was wearing a sleeveless shirt and he had a Rockies tattoo on his left shoulder.”
“You’re sure?”
He nodded. “Yeah, because at first I thought he looked like one of the Rockies outfielders, and I thought that Pete was showing off again, how he’s friends with the players. But then I realized it wasn’t another player, it was just some guy.”
“Did Pete say anything about her bringing this other guy around?”
“I heard a fight or two. He called her a few colorful names.”
It might be something, I thought. And what was Maggie up to? I had to agree with Mason. If she’d brought a new boyfriend around Pete, that was cold.
“So nothing else suspicious with Pete?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “Sorry.”
A long, uncomfortable silence stretched out between us.
“Oh, what’s your last name?”
“Why?”
“I wanted to call you, but I didn’t have your last name.”
“It’s Dubowitzki.”
“That’s a mouthful.”
Nothing from him.
I stood up to go but he remained seated. “Thanks for your time.”
He picked up a magazine from the coffee table and began to thumb through it.
I let myself out and walked slowly down the stairs. When I reached the first floor landing, I ran into Jane Reichel.
“Oh, hello,” she said, surprised to see me. “More investigating?” She held a couple of grocery bags.
I smiled. “Something like that.”
“Did you talk to Mason?”
“I did.”
“Was he helpful?” She asked as if she expected the answer to be ‘no’.
“He didn’t know much,” I said.
“Yes, he stayed in his apartment that night, so I doubt he saw anything.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well,” she held up the bags. “I need to get this stuff in the refrigerator.”
“May I help you?” I asked. Who said chivalry is dead?
“No, dear, I’m fine. But thanks for offering.” She started up the stairs.
“Just one more thing –” I held up a hand. All I needed was a baggy raincoat and a cigar and I’d be like Peter Falk’s Columbo. “What do you think of Mason?”
She turned and fixed me with a pensive look. “That’s an interesting question.”
“Why?”
“I don’t like to talk badly of anyone, but…”
I waited. There was more. There was always more.
She glanced up the stairs, then whispered. “I don’t really like him.”
“Oh?”
“He’s not very nice to people in the building.”
“What was he like with Pete?”
“He didn’t like Pete,” she said, her voice still low. “They got in a fight once.”
“An argument?”
Her head wagged back and forth. “No, a fistfight. Mason punched Pete right in the face, almost broke his nose. And you’ve seen Mason, he’s huge. Pete didn’t stand a chance.”
“What were they fighting about?”
“I don’t know.” She rattled the grocery bags. “Okay, I’ve got to go now.”
“Thanks,” I said, but she was already scurrying up the stairs.
I walked out into the heat and stood on the porch for a moment, debating whether I should go back and confront Mason about what Jane had just told me. It was obvious he didn’t like Pete, no matter how he tried to downplay it. But enough to murder him? What would be his motive? And how would he have gotten Charlie’s gun? I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated. The pieces of the puzzle were still scattered, with no clear picture. And sometimes when that happened, it was better to step away. And I had just the thing to take my mind off the case.
Chapter Fourteen
“Do you like this one?” I held up a diamond cluster ring.
“It’s beautiful,” Cal said.
Cal and I were at a Zales diamond store in the Cherry Creek Mall, an upscale shopping center a few miles southeast of downtown. The mall had high-end department stores, ritzy boutiques, and plenty of expensive restaurants that catered to a well-to-do clientele. Even though I’d grown up with money, I didn’t tend to shop there, but it was close to home and convenient. We’d visited a couple of stores already and this was our last stop.
“Or what about that one?” I pointed into the glass display case, at a plain-but-elegant bridal diamond set. I was struggling to find the right ring because I wanted to get Willie the best.
Cal studied the ring. “That seems more like Willie’s style.”
I glanced sideways at Cal. “You’ve noticed her style?”
He shrugged. “I notice a lot of things. I just don’t talk about them.”
“I see,” I murmured.
“Willie’s not the type to want something really fancy.”
“That’s true,” I admitted. He did know Willie.
I had the salesperson, a pleasant Asian woman, retrieve the ring from the display case.
“It’s 14-carat gold with princess-cut and round diamonds,” she said. “And it’s unusual because it’s formed by four smaller princess-cut stones that are held together in an invisible setting. See?”
I held it up. “Hm. It’s really nice.”
“You know about the four Cs of diamonds, right?” Cal said.
“Cut, clarity, color and carat weight,” I said. “I did my research, too.” Then I recited to Cal what I’d learned. “No two diamonds are alike. They come in all colors, but most are yellow. And even though they’re the hardest substance on earth, they can be chipped.”
“Technically, diamonds are the hardest natural substance,” Cal said. “A few years ago, some physicists compressed carbon fullerene molecules. At the same time, they heated the molecules, and this created a series of interconnected rods called ‘Aggregated Diamond Nanorods’. They’re called ‘hyperdiamonds’. They’re about 11% harder than a diamond.”
The saleswoman eyed us with an amused look on her face.
“Sorry, pal, I’m not getting a hyperdiamond for Willie,” I said. “A regular old diamond will have to do.” It didn’t surprise me that Cal was a wealth of knowledge about gems as well as everything else he seemed to know about.
He laughed.
I handed the ring back to the saleswoman. “I want to think about it,” I said to her.
Disappointment at the lack of a sale crossed her face, but she thanked us and we left the store. I checked the time: just after three. The Rockies game wouldn’t be over for a couple of hours.
“How about I buy you a late lunch,” I suggested.
“Sure,” Cal said. “Saves me having to cook anything.”
I laughed. “Like you cook.”
“Ha ha. Where do you want to go?”
“Someplace where I can watch the game.” I explai
ned that I needed to meet Greg after the Rockies game finished.
“How about the Cherry Cricket? I haven’t been there in a long time,” he said.
The Cherry Cricket is famous for its mouth-watering burgers, and I liked to eat there.
“The Cherry Cricket it is,” I said. “I’ll see you over there.”
Cal and I had parked in different sections of the mall garage, so I headed down to the lower level to my 4-Runner. It was just a hop to the Cherry Cricket, located just north of the mall on 2nd Street. The restaurant had high ceilings, a huge bar along one wall, booths by the front windows, dark wooden tables throughout, and most importantly, televisions that were showing the Rockies game.
Cal arrived moments after I did and we sat in one of the booths. We got beers first, and then he ordered a Cricket Burger, which was one-half pound of beef, and fries. Since I’d had a late breakfast, I just had tortilla chips and salsa.
“So how’s the case going?” Cal asked as he sipped on a Blue Moon beer.
“I have a lot of people who are lying to me,” I said and told him everything I’d learned so far, including the conflicting information I had on Maggie and Mason.
“So,” I paused while the waiter brought Cal’s hamburger and my chips and salsa. “I’m sure Maggie’s selling steroids,” I said, “and not harmless supplements, like her neighbor thinks. But I wish I could prove it.”
Cal took a bite of his burger, chewed and then said, “What did you overhear Maggie say to that other woman at the gym?”
“Something about the ball, or maybe it was dee ball, whatever that means.”
“It’s ‘D-Bol’,” Cal said, and spelled it. “It’s slang for Dianabol.”
I took a drink, then sat back. “Okay, I know you know lots about everything, like diamonds, but since when do you know about steroids?”
Cal shrugged. “I don’t know, I read it somewhere.”
I shook my head. Cal never ceased to amaze me. The guy had a genius IQ but lacked common sense. He’s the guy who would go out in a snowstorm without his coat and then wonder why he’s cold.
The Reed Ferguson Mystery series Box Set 3 Page 41