by L C Lang
Fifteen minutes later, a young man put the rolled up rug into the back of my Cherokee. I had charged the rug on my credit card. I thanked him and then walked back into the store with him. I wanted to talk to the man who was the manager here. The young man, whose name is Vince Hardy, who helped with the sale, told me the manager is in his office. I asked if I could talk to him and, of course, he said yes.
As I approached the cash register again, Vince said he would go get the manager, whose name is Sam Collins. A few moments later, Vince came back and said Sam wanted me to come back to his office. I nodded. This will work out great, because it will give me a chance to check out the office while I am in there.
I followed Vince to the back of the store. We went down a short hallway that led to the back door. There are two other doors, one on the left and one on the right. I figured one is a bathroom and the other is the manager’s office. We headed to the door on the right, which was standing open. Vince introduced me to the manager and Sam signaled me to come inside the office.
Sam pointed to the two oak and black leather chairs in front of his desk. I sat down in one of them, sitting my messenger bag on the floor. Then I glanced around the office. It was a good-sized room, measuring about eleven feet square. The desk was cherry and was six feet long. Sam was sitting in a high back black leather chair. Sitting on the desk is a desktop computer. Also on the desk is a pile of papers. A wooden five-drawer filing cabinet is on the left side of the desk. A small table with a printer was to the right of the desk.
Sam Collins is a tall man, even sitting down. He is probably at least six feet tall, with his age being in his mid-forties. He is dressed in a black suit, white shirt and dark blue tie. His hair is dark brown, with the beginnings of grey at his temples. The look on his face tells me he is expecting a problem.
“So, what can I do for you?” Sam asked, laying his arms on his desk.
“Are you the owner of the store?” I asked. Once again, I already knew the answer to the question, but I had to start somewhere.
Sam shook his head. “No, I am the manager. Is there a problem?”
I shook my head. “No, there is no problem. I just purchased a rug that I fell in love with. Vince helped me with the purchase and then carried the rug to my truck, which I appreciated. What I am interested in is who the owner of the store is.”
Sam narrowed his eyes at me. “May I ask who you are?”
I nodded. Then I took out my credentials, and showed it to him. “My name is Sasha Harman. I am a private investigator and have been hired to find someone.”
Sam blew out his breath and then leaned back in his chair. “I see. The owners name is Ben Williams, but I haven’t seen him lately.”
This is the second time I have heard Benton called Ben. Maybe with his new life here, he also shortened his name. “When was the last time he came in here?”
Sam thought a few moments. “I’d say the last time was about a week ago.”
Okay, this goes along with what Holly said. So, Benton died sometime in the last three days. Probably the same day I moved in and then found him the next day. The question is still, who killed him and why was he in my shed? But, I have more questions I need to ask Sam.
“How often does Ben come into the store?”
“When he started the store, he was in here every day. Ben hired me shortly after the store opened. Over time, he trusted me enough to make me the manager. Guess that was about five years ago. After that, he began taking a day or two off per week. He still did the books. When he was not here, I put the money and receipts and put them into a bank bag, putting the bank bag into this desk. It locks, so everything is secure. Then, when he does come in, he takes care of entering the sales into the accounting program we have on the computer and he deposits the money in the bank.”
“Does he use the computer on your desk?”
Sam nodded. “Yes. It is the only computer we have here.”
“Do you have access to the accounting program?”
“Yes, I can. But the file with the business accounts is on a flash drive that Ben takes with him.”
I nodded. A flash drive? Guess Benton used that method so that no one could change the records and embezzle money from him.
“I see. How many sales do you have per week?”
“About eight to ten rugs. Sometimes not even that. Mostly what we sell are smaller sized rugs. People come from all over the area and from Illinois and Ohio come here. We are a specialty store, so while we may not have a lot of sales, we are consistent. We also have a webpage that Vince set up and we get sales from there too. Usually three or four a week.”
I nodded. They may have consistent sales and make money, but not when you consider the overhead. Cost of the rugs, utilities, and employee wages. How can Benton stay in business? They may have good rugs, but is there much call for them? Not many people can afford the rugs, even if they are an investment. Something is not right about this. “Selling on the internet is a good way to get in more sales. How often do you order rugs?”
Sam shrugged. “Ben orders them about every six months. Sometimes more often. Last two shipments came in three months apart.”
I nodded. “Is Ben here when the rug orders come in?”
Sam nodded. “Yes, he is. He knows the schedule when each shipment comes in. Once the shipment is unloaded, he personally checks each rug. When that is done, Victor and I take the rugs and stack them in the storage room in the back of the store or place them in the showroom if they are needed.”
“How does he check the rugs? Does he unroll them and check each inch of every rug?”
Sam shook his head. “No. He did that at the beginning when he opened the store, but he has done so much business with the company who exports Oriental and Persian rugs that he trusts them to send quality rugs. What he told me one time is that he checks for the ticket that is in one end of the rugs that guarantees that the rug is perfect.”
“What does he do with the tickets?”
Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. I am not usually in the storage room when he checks them. Victor and I wait until Ben notifies us we can move the rugs. Although, one time I went into the storage room since he seemed to be taking a lot longer to go through the rugs and I saw him put something in his suit coat pocket. It seemed like his pockets were bulging, but I don’t know with what.”
What could Benton be putting in his pockets? A ticket would not be bulky. Is he getting something else inside the rugs? “Why doesn’t Ben allow you and Vince in the back when he is checking the rugs?
“He began telling us to stay in the showroom in case customers come in about five years ago. Why he doesn’t want at least one of us back there to help out, I have no idea. Both Vince and I have never questioned why he does what he does. Even when he is gone for several days at a time. We manage just fine without him.”
I realized Sam was sounding a bit miffed at Benton. Do I need to make him a suspect too? I am beginning to think so. Then I thought of something else I need to find out. “How many rugs come in in each shipment?
“About eight to ten rugs each time. There was one time about a year ago when we got in fifteen rugs. I think Ben contacted his source that we needed more rugs.”
Then I thought about something Sam said earlier. “You mentioned you got in two orders within three months, how many rugs came in those two orders?”
“About ten rugs in each shipment.”
I nodded. “Are you getting both Persian and Oriental rugs in each time?”
“Yes. There is a dealer in the Asia that Ben works with. They make the arrangements for the rugs to be shipped from their warehouse.”
A company in Asia with their own warehouse. Must be an export company, who deal with the manufacturers of the rugs. This is getting more interesting and more confusing at the same time. What was Benton involved in? I am not getting a good feeling about any of this.
At this point, I think this is all the information I can get out of Sam. So,
I thanked him for his help, said goodbye and then walked out of the office.
When I got out to my Cherokee, I started it, pulled out of the parking lot and then took off for home. I had made notes on what Sam told me, so I would not have to remember everything. While I drove, I went over what I had found today. Actually, I had found a lot of information.
Put simply, Benton Williams was living a second life. One that I am sure Hannah knows nothing about. Or does she? Probably not the woman or the second house, but does she know about the rug import store?
There is one thing that is confusing about the rug import store. Why would Benton want to check each rug for a ticket? Especially with no one else around. And what was he putting in his pockets? Could it be a statement of authenticity sent with each rug? Isn’t that something they would discuss before Benton signed the contract? I can see checking the entire rug in case there is a problem. Now I am beginning to wonder if something else is going on. And what had Benton stuffed into his suit coat pockets?
Then I thought of something. The box I found in the closet of the apartment. I had not seen everything inside. All I saw was a folded paper on top. Maybe there is a clue of what is going on inside the box. I sure hope so, because I sure need a clue right now.
CHAPTER 13
I backed into my driveway, clicked the remote to open the garage door and then backed inside the garage. Then I closed the garage door. For now, the rug can stay in the truck, but I have to take the box inside the house. So, I got out, flipped the strap of my messenger bag over my shoulder and then went to the back of my truck. I opened the door, shifted the rug over a bit and then took out the box, closing the back door. I am nervous to see what is inside the box. Hopefully, there will be a clue.
I walked into the kitchen, through the living room and then into my office. I sat the box down on my desk. Then I realized something is wrong. My laptop is missing. I sat my messenger bag on my desk and went into the living room. I checked the front door and found it locked. Then I headed for the kitchen. I came to a stop. The back door is partially open. This is not how it was when I left this morning. Someone broke into my house.
I went back into the living room and looked around the room. Nothing is missing. Then I went back into my office and looked around. Nothing else appeared to be missing, but to be sure, I checked the storage area in the serving bar and the drawers in the built-in cabinet. Nothing is missing, nor has anything been moved, so they did not check this area. Good thing. They would have figured out what kind of work I do with what is stored in the serving bar. I looked around the room. Except for the laptop, they took nothing else.
I couldn’t believe someone came into my house and took nothing but my laptop. What about upstairs? I headed up the stairs and went to my bedroom. Nothing was missing, but then I saw something. Had I closed the dresser drawer this morning? I was anxious to leave, but I was not in that big of a hurry. I am sure I closed the drawer. So, why is it partially open? What is going on here? That drawer is my underwear drawer. What kind of pervert was in here?
As I walked back down the stairs, I wondered who had broken in and why. Why would they just want my laptop, but not take anything else? Not even the large flat screen television in the living room. Whoever broke in knew what they wanted. I came to a stop at the bottom of the steps as a thought crossed my mind.
The surveillance cameras.
I had access to the cameras on my laptop, but I also had access on my cell phone. I pulled out my cell phone and accessed the link to the cameras. All three cameras are on a split screen so I can watch all of them. I had to rewind the tape for a few hours. Then I sat down on the steps and began watching.
Through the front door camera, I saw myself leave in my Cherokee this morning. For a while, I saw nothing, except a few cars that went passed the front of the house and birds flying at the back of the house.
I slowed down the tape when I saw a car pull into the neighbor’s driveway across the street. I don’t know the woman’s name, but I know she is a friend of Hannah Williams and I am almost sure that is Hannah’s car in her driveway. Hannah arrived an hour and a half ago.
Nothing happened for several minutes. Then I saw Hannah and my neighbor come out of the neighbor’s house. They walked across the street and then headed to the right. They were walking around my house. I watched them go by my office door and head for the gate. Then I watched the back door camera.
It did not take long before both women showed up at the back door. I wasn’t sure what my neighbor was doing, but she is leaning over, doing something to my door knob. About five minutes later, the back door opened and both women walked into my house. She had picked the door lock. I need to put in a deadbolt lock. On all three doors. That will slow anyone down trying to pick a lock.
I paused the tape on my cell phone and blew out my breath. They broke into my house and stole my laptop. I am angry. I have a lot of things on my laptop. Things that no one needs to see. Fortunately, my laptop is password protected, so Hannah will not be able to access what I have on it. Nevertheless, those two women stole my laptop.
I was sure Hannah wanted to find evidence that I had something to do with Benton. I am also sure that even though nothing else was missing, they had checked the entire house, including my underwear drawer, which made me even angrier.
Now I need to see when they leave and I need proof they took my laptop. I started the tape again and watched the date stamp on the back door to see when they left. Then I will know for sure how much time they spent inside my house. I waited and watched. The minutes went by. By the time they finally walked out of my house, they had been inside for twenty-five minutes. As I watched them come out the door, I saw Hannah with my laptop. Gotcha.
The two women must have heard something because I saw my neighbor jump and then they both took off for the front of the house. Now I knew why my back door was unlocked and the door not completely closed. I saw them rush by my office door, with Hannah clutching my laptop. On the front door camera, I watched as Hannah and my neighbor quickly went across the street and inside the house.
I stood up and went to the living room window. I peeked around the curtains. The same car is still sitting in my neighbor’s driveway. Hannah is still there. Probably the two of them are looking out the window and laughing. They won’t be for too much longer and then I will get the last laugh.
There is one more thing to check. I headed for my office and opened the door. Then I peeked outside. They didn’t even bother closing the gate. For now, I will leave it open. I closed the door. Time to get even with Hannah.
I reversed the tape back to where Hannah and my neighbor came in the back door and put a hold on it. Then I pulled out the card Detective Donovan gave me and called the number listed on the card. Took a couple of rings before he answered.
“Donovan.”
“Detective Donovan, this is Sasha Harman. I want to report a break-in and a theft.”
“At your house?”
Was he some kind of an idiot to ask that question? “No, the neighbor’s house.” Okay, so I was being cocky, but I had every right to be. “Of course, Detective Donovan, it took place at my house. I have it all on a surveillance tape.”
“Okay. What was stolen?”
“My laptop. And I know who took it.”
“Who?”
“Hannah Williams and my neighbor across the street. And Hannah is still there.”
“Are you sure they took it?”
I took a deep breath. At best, he was annoying. At worst, no you don’t want me telling you what I think of him right at the moment. “Of course I am sure. I got her face on the surveillance camera and she is holding my laptop. Got them on all three of my cameras as a matter of a fact. They were in my house for twenty-five minutes.”
He blew out his breath. “Okay. I will be there in a few minutes.”
I closed my cell phone and put it back in my pocket. Then I had a thought. I looked at the box sitting on my desk. De
tective Donovan will come into the house. Do I want him to see the box I found? No, I do not. I am not ready to tell him what I found out today about Benton. I have no idea what else is in the box, but I don’t want him to see it and start asking questions. Questions I do not want to answer.
Having to call in a break-in and theft is putting a crimp on what I need to do. I may not know who killed Benton Williams, at least not yet, but I need to research the information I found today. And I need to get to work on the background checks on my new account. I can’t do that without my laptop, so this is an inconvenience.
Right now, I need to hide the box, at least for the time being. I picked up the box and tried to figure out where to put it. I looked around the room. The best place is in the cabinets of the serving bar. I still have room. I took the box over to the serving bar, shoved the box inside the cabinets, and then closed the door. I am dying to get into the box and see what else is in there, but that will have to wait. I have to get my laptop back and tell off Hannah Williams. I am sure going to love doing that.
Then I went to the living room window to wait. Hannah’s car is still across the street, so it will be easier for Detective Donovan to go talk to her. Once I show him the footage, there will be no question what Hannah and her friend did.
Five minutes later, two police cars came rushing up the street, lights flashing and sirens whining loudly. That ought to alert the whole neighborhood. One police car pulled into my driveway and the other went to my neighbor’s house across the street. I laughed. That ought to panic Hannah and her friend. While Detective Donovan got out of his car and headed for the front door, the other police officer went to my neighbor’s house. I moved to the front door and opened it.
