“I guess.”
“What was she like?”
He’d already headed back to his chair. “She’s a flake.”
“Do you know Gabe? Her boyfriend?”
He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “I don’t know what she was doin’ with him.”
“Why is that?”
“Man, this ain’t Dr. Phil. Get lost.”
His friend guffawed as he sat down. They made a point of not looking at me as I walked away. They were laughing by the time I went inside the north building. The loud rock music I’d heard earlier had been replaced by sounds from a television. I walked down the hall to the manager’s door, and the TV noise grew louder. I banged on the door and waited. A moment later, it opened to reveal a stout man with salt-and-pepper hair and thick glasses. A TV blared in Spanish in the background.
“Yes?” He had the trace of an accent.
“You’re the manager?” I asked.
“Yes. There are no apartments available.”
I shook my head. “I’m trying to find Sally Evans. She lived in 102.”
He ran a thumb and index finger around the edges of his mouth, then held a hand to his ear. I started to talk again and he stopped me, then spun around and disappeared down a short hall. The sound of the TV stopped, and he reappeared.
“What’s that?”
“Sally Evans,” I said.
“Sure, I know her. She moved out.”
“When?”
“About a month ago.”
That was close to what the man in the courtyard had said. “Did she leave a forwarding address?”
“A what?” He cupped a hand to his ear again.
No wonder the TV was loud.
I raised my voice. “Did she tell you her new address?”
“Oh.” He shook his head. “I don’t know where she went.”
“Do you have a phone number for her?”
“Hmm.” He did the thumb and finger thing again. “Who are you?”
He was being careful now. I pulled out my wallet and flashed my private investigator’s license at him. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped, and he stood a little straighter.
“I need to get in touch with Sally,” I said. “It’s important.”
“Yes, I see. Let me get that number for you.”
He scurried away, and I heard drawers opening. He came back with a file, and he opened it, then ran his finger along a page. “This is the number.”
As he read it off the page, I immediately knew it was the wrong one. He probably never bothered to update his tenant information.
“Does that help?” he asked.
“It’s no longer in service,” I said.
“Oh.” He gave me a blank look.
“Was Sally a good tenant?”
“She was okay, but she got behind on her rent once in a while, and I’d have to threaten to evict her.” He frowned. “I hate doing that. I’m only doing this to supplement my social security, and I don’t want any problems with anyone. I let them be, and I don’t get involved in anything if I don’t have to. But when someone gets behind on the rent, or they get the cops here, it makes it hard for me.”
“Did someone call the cops on Sally?”
“Her, and some others. It happens.”
“What was Sally doing that someone called on her?”
He sighed. “A problem with her boyfriend.”
“Gabe?” I described him.
“Yeah, that’s the one.” A tinge of fear entered his voice. “He was here off and on.”
“You were scared of him?”
His lips formed a tight line, and he nodded. “One time, I told them they were making too much noise, and he had a gun. He threatened me.” He glanced away. “You see why I don’t want to make hassles with the people around here? I just want to keep a roof over my head, you know?”
I nodded sympathetically, in part because I wanted to keep him talking, but I also felt genuinely sorry for him.
“Have you seen Gabe since she moved out?”
“I don’t remember the last time I saw him.”
“You said Sally got behind on her rent,” I went on.
“Yeah, but she always managed to come up with the money before I had to kick her out.”
“How’d she come up with it?”
He shrugged. “She didn’t tell me, and I didn’t ask.”
“Did you have any other problems with her?”
“Well … she could play her music pretty loud, but never as bad as that guy.” He pointed toward the door to 104. “He can play it loud, but it’s during the day, and most people are gone to work. And I don’t hear it.”
I’ll bet, I thought. “I understand Sally was an aspiring musician.”
“A what?”
I raised my voice. “She wanted to be a singer.”
“Oh, yeah. She liked to sit out in the courtyard and play her guitar and sing. I don’t think anyone really thought much of it. I know Gabe didn’t.”
“Why do you say that?”
He scowled. “The look on his face when he watched her play. He wasn’t impressed.”
“Did you like her music?”
“I never listened to it.”
“Did the two of them fight a lot?”
He nodded. “I think so, but I don’t get involved.”
“Did they do drugs?”
“I don’t know. Probably. If you want to talk to him, he comes around sometimes. He hangs out with the guy in 202.”
“Good to know,” I said.
Somewhere in the apartment, a phone rang.
He glanced over his shoulder. “I should get that.”
“The guy in 202. What’s his name?”
“Adam.”
“Adam what?”
He took a step back and started to close the door.
“If you see Sally,” I said as I quickly pulled a business card from my wallet, “can you ask her to call me?”
“Sure.” He took the card and stuffed it into his pants pocket. By the look on his face, I wondered if he would pass along the message or not. As he’d clearly indicated, he did not want to get mixed up in anything. I doubted I’d hear from him.
He dismissed me with a hand, and the door shut.
I stood in the hallway for a moment, thinking. I hadn’t been able to deliver Brenda’s message to Sally, and it appeared that I wouldn’t be able to anytime soon because – as I’d discovered – Sally was gone.
But how much more poking around should I do? Sally didn’t live here anymore, and that was that. Would Brenda want me to keep looking? With those thoughts in my mind, I went outside. I felt the eyes of the two beer-drinkers on me as I hurried back to my car.
Chapter Five
As I got in the 4-Runner, Humphrey Bogart’s voice said, “Oh, it’s not always easy to know what to do.” How apt. My ringtone was a sound clip from Sam Spade in The Maltese Falcon. I am a huge Bogie fan, and always wish I could be as cool as he was in all his old film noir movies that I love so much.
I looked at the number. It was Cal.
“What’s up, O Great Clandestine Information Specialist?” I said.
He snickered. “The only number I can find for Sally Evans is disconnected because she wasn’t paying her bill.” That was Cal, no nonsense, get right to the point.
“That’s a bummer, but I’m not surprised. What about an address?”
“She’s on Columbine Street.”
“Not anymore.”
“She moved?”
“She seems to have disappeared within the last few weeks. No one knows where she is.”
“Until she starts paying bills again with a new address, I won’t be able to help you,” he said.
“Those are rare words.”
He laughed again. “Even I can only do so much.”
“I appreciate you trying.”
“No problem. Let me know if you need anything else.” With that, he ended the call.
I sat fo
r a moment longer and called Brenda Evans. She answered with a tentative “hello.”
“It’s Reed Ferguson,” I said as I watched the men in the courtyard. They didn’t look happy that I was still there.
“Did you talk to her?” Brenda asked quickly.
“No. I couldn’t find her.”
“Would you try again another time?”
“She doesn’t live at that apartment anymore.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
“When did she move out?”
“About three to four weeks ago.”
“Was she in trouble?”
I hesitated. I really didn’t know, but I didn’t want to worry her, either. “I don’t think so. She’s just gone.”
She sighed heavily. “I wonder when she was planning on telling us she moved.”
“You might hear from her soon.”
“I don’t have time to wait. I’ll hire you to find her.”
I thought she might say that. “I can do some more looking around. It might take a few days.”
“So you’ve already started searching for her?”
“Well, sort of.” I filled Brenda in on what I’d done since I’d seen her at the club.
“It sounds like things still aren’t going well for Sally,” she said when I finished. The ache in her tone was clear.
“Do you know about this man Gabe?” I asked.
“She brought him to the house the last time I saw her. I didn’t mention it because I didn’t think it mattered. I have no idea how to get in touch with him.”
“If I can find him, that’ll likely lead me to her,” I mused. Brenda didn’t say anything to that. I thought more about her daughter. “Was Sally always…” I paused.
“Flaky?”
“Yes.”
It took her a moment to answer. “Well, she kind of was as a kid, but I didn’t want to paint her in a bad light. I suppose we might’ve spoiled her some.” That fit with what my mother had told me. “Maybe the flakiness has something to do with her artistic side, but she wasn’t that easy to deal with.”
“I understand.”
“I hope that doesn’t cause you more problems with finding her.”
I chuckled. “Let’s hope not.”
“Let me know what you find out.” She didn’t sound hopeful.
“I will.”
I ended the call and got back out of the 4-Runner. As I returned to the courtyard, the two men stared at me.
“Man, you looking for trouble? You need to move on,” the man who’d talked to me earlier said. He was starting to slur his words.
“I’ll be gone soon,” I said. I hurried back into the north building. If I wasn’t careful, those two were going to cause me trouble.
I took the stairs to the second floor and went to unit 202. I knocked and waited. A moment later, the door opened to reveal a thin young man in khaki shorts that hung low on his hips and a muscle shirt that revealed no muscles.
“Yeah?” he said.
“Are you Adam?”
“Who wants to know?”
His evasiveness wasn’t fooling me.
“I’m looking for Sally Evans or Gabe,” I said. “The manager says you might know where I can find them.” That wasn’t true, but how would he know?
“Who?”
“Sally. She lived downstairs.”
“I don’t know her.”
“You know Gabe.” I stared hard at him. “He was here earlier today.”
“Well, he’s not here now.”
He started to shut the door, but I put my hand out to stop it from closing.
“Stop lying to me,” I said.
“Hey,” he said as he tried to push the door shut. “Gabe hangs out at the Rat, okay? It’s on–”
“I know where it is,” I interrupted. “Where else might he be?”
“I dunno.”
“What’s Gabe’s last name?”
“Culpepper,” he said.
I put my hand down and the door slammed in my face. I grimaced. No matter how much I tried, I’d never be as tough as Bogie. I went back downstairs and outside, and was relieved to see that the beer-drinkers were gone. But the kitten was back, and I noticed that it followed me all the way back to the 4-Runner. I opened the door, and before I could climb in, the kitten jumped onto the floorboard and onto my seat.
“No, bud,” I said to him. “Don’t you have a home around here?”
He sat on the seat and meowed at me. He looked like he could use a meal, but I didn’t have anything to give him. I sighed as I picked him up and put him on the sidewalk.
“Go on home,” I said.
He stared at me, his tail twitching.
“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.”
I got in the car and muttered to myself about talking to a cat, then drove up the street toward the Rat Tavern. Maybe Gabe would show up there. I felt like I was running in circles. On the way, I called Willie.
“Hey, babe,” she said cheerily. “Where are you?”
“I might be a while,” I said. I told her about my meeting with Brenda, and the ensuing case.
“Oh, okay,” she said when I finished. “Maybe I’ll call Darcy and see if she wants to visit some of the animal shelters and go to dinner. I just love cats. I had a cat when I was a kid, and I loved cuddling with him, and listening to him purr. I miss that, and it would be so nice to have one around here.”
Darcy Cranston, Willie’s best friend, lives across the street in a Victorian house that has been converted into apartments. Willie owns the house as an investment property, and had lived there until she moved in with me.
Willie had been talking about getting a cat, and her best friend, Darcy, had been encouraging her all along the way and even going with her to visit some animal shelters. I, on the other hand, wasn't so sure I wanted one.
“Are you sure you want a cat?” I said, thinking about the scrawny black kitten.
“Hon, they’re so cute, and they’re easy to take care of. If we get a cat, you won’t regret it.”
“Uh-huh.” I changed the subject. “I’ll try not to be too late. Do you work tomorrow?”
“Yes, but not until the afternoon.”
Willie is an ER admissions nurse, and she sometimes has irregular hours. Between her shifts and my own haphazard schedule, it was difficult to find time together.
“How about we open a bottle of wine and watch a movie when I get home?” I asked.
“That’d be nice. I won’t stay out too late with Darcy then.”
“Great.”
I ended the call, and was soon parked outside the Rat Tavern again. When I went inside, the tiny place was packed. I sidled up to the corner of the bar and waited until Ella noticed me. She threw me a small smile, grabbed a Budweiser longneck, and came over.
“You’re back,” she said as she set down the beer. “It’s on the house.”
“Thanks.”
“You look like you could use it.”
I nodded and took a long drink.
“No luck finding Sally?” she asked.
I shook my head. “She’s apparently moved, and the only lead I now have is that Gabe sometimes comes in here. But you knew that.”
She laughed, then glanced around. “But not so far tonight.”
I surveyed the bar. “Does anyone else here know Sally?”
“Yeah, but I already asked them if they knew where she was.”
I cocked an eyebrow at her.
“I would’ve called you if anyone did,” she said. “But no one knows her that well, or knows where she is.”
“Thanks for checking.”
She sighed. “Sure thing.” Then she sauntered off to make drinks.
I stayed at my place at the end of the bar and visited off and on with Ella, but in the back of my mind, I kept thinking about the little black kitten. Did he have a home to go to? I sighed and checked my watch. Nine o’clock, and Gabe hadn’t shown up. I finally put a big
tip on the bar for Ella and left, but instead of heading home, I drove back to Sally’s old apartment. I parked and walked up to the building. Music and sounds from TV shows came from open windows. I stood for a moment and then called out quietly, “Here kitty, kitty.”
Nothing. Maybe the little guy had a home.
I called out again, then shrugged and walked back to the 4-Runner. I opened the door and right then, a tiny black fur ball materialized out of the darkness and walked around my legs.
“There you are,” I said.
I reached out and petted him, and he started to purr.
“I must be crazy,” I muttered as I reached down and picked him up.
He nestled in the crook of my arm as I got in and drove away. I was home at our condo in Uptown, a neighborhood just east of downtown, fifteen minutes later. When I walked through the door, Willie was sitting on the couch, her laptop on her lap.
She sat up and yawned. “How’d things go?” She was in her favorite pink robe and her white running socks. I’m not sure how she does it, but she makes even a fleece robe look awfully appealing.
“A dead end,” I said. “I’ll try again tomorrow.”
Then she saw the kitten. “Ooooh! Who do you have?”
She set her laptop on the coffee table, leaped up, hurried over, and took the kitten from me. “Aren’t you darling?” she said to it. He meowed and she cooed at him and kissed his head repeatedly.
I grinned. “You’re making a spectacle of yourself.”
“You’re just jealous. Who does he belong to?”
“He’s a stray.”
She went into the kitchen, still talking to the kitten. “Let’s get you something to eat.”
I followed her and watched as she got out some lunch meat and broke it into tiny pieces.
“Shouldn’t you give him milk?” I asked.
She shook her head. “It can give them runny bowels. Get him a bowl of water.”
“I didn’t know that,” I said as I got a bowl, filled it with water, and set it on the floor.
The kitten lapped at the water, and when Willie put a plate of meat on the floor, he devoured it quickly.
“He’s so cute!” she said.
“Uh-huh.” I had to admit, he sort of was.
When the kitten finished eating, Willie picked him up, went back into the living room, and sat on the couch. I sat down next to her as she let the kitten snuggle up against her. Then she looked at me.
Reed Ferguson Mystery Box Set 5 Page 38