Reed Ferguson Short Stories

by Renee Pawlish

  “One of his neighbors says he pounds on the wall to bother her.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know anything about that.”

  “Do you know Micah Ulrich?”

  “Barely. He keeps to himself. He’s a good student from what I hear. Listen, I gotta go.”

  “Sure thing.”

  I thanked her, but the door was already closing. I stood for a minute, listening. If she’d turned the music back on, I couldn’t hear it. Then “Jingle Bells” started playing in my head.

  “Thanks, Cal,” I muttered.

  I moved away from Tina’s door and tried the other apartments on the first floor, but no one was home. I doubted anyone would be able to help me anyway. I was growing more worried that I wasn’t going to be able to help Nat.

  Bah! Humbug!

  Chapter Five

  I went back to apartment 202 and knocked again. This time the door opened to reveal a big man who could’ve easily been a football player.

  “Yes?” His voice was surprisingly soft.

  “Are you Micah Ulrich?”

  “That’s right.”

  I used Sam Spade again, saying I was a University inspector, keeping with the subterfuge I’d started with Tina.

  “I understand you know something about the test answers that were being sold,” I began.

  “I already told the University what I know,” he interrupted, sounding a lot like Tina. “How could they possibly have more questions?”

  “They apparently do, and I just need to verify a few things.”

  Micah sighed dramatically, put out about having to share his story again. “I was coming home that night, and when I was walking into the building, I heard Greg and a woman arguing for a minute. It was something about the answers and about paying money. To be honest, I’d heard a rumor about some answers being sold for one of the premed classes.” He leaned close to me, and I could smell his bad breath. “Professor Mandrake is tough. It’s hard to get a good grade in his class, so it doesn’t surprise me that people are trying to cheat. Anyway, the next thing I know, I get called into the Dean’s office. They apparently figured out that Greg was selling the answers to the final, and they were asking what people knew. I told him about seeing a woman with the long overcoat and a beanie hat talking to Greg.”

  “What time was that?”

  “About six.”

  “What did the woman look like?”

  “I didn’t see her very well. Greg was blocking her from my view. I went inside, and I didn’t hear them anymore. I still don’t know who the University caught.”

  “Where exactly did you see those two?”

  He gestured as if indicating the area. “It was around the side of the building, near a table.”

  “Was this woman African-American, or Asian, or Caucasian?”

  He shrugged. “No clue. Is that important?”

  “Yeah.”

  Micah pursed his lips. “Hmmm.”

  “You told the University all this?” I asked.

  “Of course.”

  I thought for a second. I couldn’t see the University kicking Nat out because of what Micah was telling me. Had he also told the University that Nat had bought the answers from Sutton?

  “Is there anything else that you saw or heard?”

  “That’s it.” His eyebrows formed an angry line. “Between you and me, I’m glad they’re catching the students. It’s not cool, and I work too hard, without cheating. Everyone else should do the same.” The softness in his voice was gone.

  “Agreed,” was all I could think to say to that. “What’d you do the rest of the night?”

  “I stayed in and studied. I don’t cheat.” Before I could say anything else, he said, “I’ve got work to do.” Then he shut the door.

  I walked slowly down the stairs, wondering about Ulrich. He’d suddenly gone from mild-mannered to angry. Was it possible that he just wanted somebody in trouble, and Nat made a good target? I was missing something, but I wasn’t sure what.

  Disappointed, I went outside and around the building to where Ulrich had said Sutton and Nat had been arguing. The table was there, just like he’d said, but right now no one was around. I looked at the side of the building, thinking. Tina’s window was nearby, and above her was Ulrich’s.

  I thought I saw some movement, and I wondered if someone was watching me. I stared up at Ulrich’s window and saw his big frame staring down at me. I gazed back up at him and he finally moved away. I listened for a moment. It was quiet, even the traffic on Logan Street dimmed.

  The air was cold, and I stuffed my hands in my pockets as I went back around to the front of the building and tried to put myself in Ulrich’s shoes. I walked up the sidewalk and glanced toward the table. I could see it only for a brief moment before I reached the lobby door. I had to take a few steps toward the side of the building in order to see the table. Could Ulrich have heard an entire argument as he walked into the building? Had he watched for a minute and neglected to tell me that, or had he purposefully kept that from me? Had he really seen Nat, or had it been someone else?

  I tramped back around the side of the building and slowly paced near the table, thinking. Then it suddenly hit me. I knew what I’d missed.

  Chapter Six

  When the door opened, the heavy metal music hit me again. Tina gazed at me cautiously. Then she held up a finger and left to turn the music down.

  “I told you I don’t have any time to talk,” she said when she returned.

  I could still hear Metallica. I gestured behind her. “Has your music been on since I left your apartment?”

  “Yeah, so what? No one complains.”

  I pondered her for a moment. “You lied to me.”

  She hesitated. “About what?”

  “You said it was really cold on Saturday night.”

  “Yeah.” Even more cautious now.

  “Did you have your window open?”

  “Of course not,” she snapped. “I’m not going to waste the heat. Do you know how expensive it is to go to school? Money’s tight.”

  I nodded. “Then how did you hear the argument between Natalie and Greg? I was just outside and I couldn’t hear your music. Those windows are pretty solid, like the doors. You can’t hear anything when the door’s closed.”

  “I, uh …” She stumbled for words. “You’re wrong.”

  I shook my head slowly. “Turn the music up and come outside. You can see for yourself.”

  She glared at me. I glared back.

  “Want to tell me what really happened?” I finally asked.

  She stared at me.

  “Nat doesn’t deserve this,” I went on.

  She pursed her lips. “You’re her friend, right? You’re not with the University?”

  “That’s right. I’m trying to help her. She’s worked too hard to lose everything for something she didn’t do.”

  She looked past me and grimaced. I cocked an eyebrow at her and waited.

  “It’s time to do what’s right,” I prodded gently.

  Seconds ticked by.

  “It was me,” she finally whispered.

  “What really happened?”

  “I knew Greg had gotten the test answers – I don’t know how – and I asked him if I could buy them.” Her eyes filled with tears. “It’s been a hard semester. I’ve got to work, and trying to keep up with everything got to be too much. I ran into Greg outside that night and confirmed he had the test answers, but he wanted more money. That’s what we were arguing about. I finally paid him and got the answers. I thought it was fine until someone from the University came here and started asking questions. I panicked and told them it was Nat out there, not me.”

  “Why her?”

  “I’ve seen her in a coat and hat similar to mine.”

  I mulled that over. “You got too creative with your lies. If you hadn’t said anything about the argument, you might not have been discovered.”

  “The University said someone s
aw us, but not clearly. I didn’t know, though, if anyone had heard us, so I figured I’d direct the attention away from myself.”

  “It didn’t work.”

  She didn’t say anything, and Metallica played in the background. Then she sighed. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll pass this information along to Nat, so she can clear her name.”

  “I’ll probably get kicked out of school.”

  I nodded. “Probably. You made a really bad choice.”

  She looked at me for a moment longer, then slowly closed the door.

  Chapter Seven

  “Reed, I can’t thank you enough,” Nat said.

  It was the following night, and Nat, Willie, the Goofballs, Cal and I were all sitting around a table at B 52s. “Little Drummer Boy” by Joan Jett & The Blackhearts was playing in the background.

  “Glad to help,” I replied.

  We had been eating burgers and talking about the University case against Nat.

  “What’s going to happen to Tina Hammond?” Cal asked.

  “They’re going to do an investigation,” Nat said. “But Tina told them it wasn’t me, and they’ve cleared my name. I have to take a different test to completely satisfy the University, but I know I can pass it.”

  “We knew you weren’t a cheater,” Ace said, and Deuce nodded his head.

  “Hear, hear,” Willie said.

  I held up my beer. “A toast, to Nat.”

  “And Reed,” Nat said with a smile. “And Cal. I can’t thank you enough for helping me. Dinner and drinks are on me.”

  Cal blushed, and I took a slight bow.

  “Thank you,” we both said.

  “And to all a good night,” Ace added.

  “He heard that in a movie,” Deuce explained. “Not a film noir.”

  We all laughed at that. We spent another couple of hours playing pool, and then Willie and I drove home. As we parked on the street, I glanced up into our window.

  “Uh-oh,” I said.

  “What?” Willie asked.

  “Look.” I pointed upward.

  We had lit the Christmas tree before we had gone to B 52s to celebrate with Nat. We should have been able to see it in the window, but all we could see was a soft glow. No Christmas tree.

  “Uh-oh,” Willie mimicked me.

  We went upstairs, and when we opened the door, we saw the tree. It was on its side in the middle of the room, the lights still on, ornaments everywhere. And lying nearby was Humphrey, sleeping peacefully next to the little angel ornament. He awoke when he saw us, got up, stretched from head to toe, and walked without a care in the world toward us.

  I glanced at Willie. “I told you we couldn’t trust him.”

  He meowed loudly.

  She picked him up and looked into his green eyes. “You little imp.”

  I went over to the tree, stepped over a few broken ornaments, picked up the tree and righted it. “I’ll figure out a way to brace the base so he can’t knock it down again.”

  “Thank you.”

  Just then, my phone rang. It was my mother.

  “Hi, Mom,” I said. “It’s late there, is something wrong?”

  My parents live in Florida, and I couldn’t imagine why she was calling now.

  “No, dear. Everything’s fine. We were out with some friends. I’m so excited about visiting, and I wanted to talk to you about your plans. I don’t get to see you very often, so your father and I wanted to make sure we had plenty of time with you when we’re there.”

  “I want to see you both as well, and we’ll do plenty of things together.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to go shopping with Willie and me? Her mother’s going too. And I think your father will be with us.”

  I rolled my eyes. “No, I’ll do something with dad while you all are at the mall.” And he’ll be grateful I saved him from shopping as well, I thought but didn’t say.

  “Perhaps that would be best.”

  Willie was grinning at me.

  “Did you put her up to this?” I whispered at her.

  “I did not.” She was still grinning. “But I think it’s funny she thinks you would enjoy shopping with us.”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  “Well dear, I’ll see you soon,” Mother said. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” I replied.

  I ended the call and turned to Willie and Humphrey. “What am I going to do with the two of you?”

  Willie gave me a sexy smile. “I can think of a thing or two for me.”

  She set Humphrey down and he ran toward the tree. Willie sashayed toward the bedroom. I glanced at Humphrey and shrugged. Then I smiled and followed Willie.

  THE END

  Turn the page for a sneak peek of book 1 in the Reed Ferguson Mystery Series, This Doesn’t Happen in the Movies.

  Sneak Peek

  This Doesn’t Happen in the Movies, The Reed Ferguson Mysteries Book 1

  Chapter One

  “I want you to find my dead husband.”

  “Excuse me?” That was my first reaction.

  “I want you to find my husband. He’s dead, and I need to know where he is.” She spoke in a voice one sexy note below middle C.

  “Uh-huh.” That was my second reaction. Really slick.

  Moments before, when I saw her standing in the outer room, waiting to come into my office, I had the feeling she’d be trouble. And now, with that intro, I knew it.

  “He’s dead, and I need you to find him.” If she wasn’t tired of the repetition, I was, but I couldn’t seem to get my mouth working. She sat in the cushy black leather chair on the other side of my desk, exhaling money with every sultry breath. She had beautiful blond hair with just a hint of darker color at the roots, blue eyes like a cold mountain lake, and a smile that would slay Adonis. I’d like to say that a beautiful woman couldn’t influence me by her beauty alone. I’d like to say it, but I can’t.

  “Why didn’t you come see me yesterday?” I asked. Her eyes widened in surprise. This detective misses nothing, I thought, mentally patting myself on the back. She didn’t know that I’d definitely noticed her yesterday eating at a deli across the street. I had been staring out the window, and there she was.

  The shoulders of her red designer jacket went up a half-inch and back down, then her full lips curled into the trace of a smile. “I came here to see you, but you were leaving for lunch. I followed you, and then I lost my nerve.”

  “I see you’ve regained it.” I’ve never been one to place too much importance on my looks, but I suddenly wished I could run a comb through my hair, put on a nicer shirt, and splash on a little cologne. And change my eye color – hazel – boring. It sounded like someone’s old, spinster aunt, not an eye color.

  She nodded. “Yes. I have to find out about my husband. He’s dead, I know it. I just know it.” Her tone swayed as if in a cool breeze, with no hint of the desperation that should’ve been carried in the words.

  “But he’s also missing,” I said in a tone bordering on flippant, as I leaned forward to unlock the desk drawer where I kept spare change, paper clips, and my favorite gold pen. Maybe writing things down would help me concentrate. But I caught a whiff of something elegant coming from her direction, and the key I was holding missed the lock by a good two inches. I hoped she didn’t see my blunder. I felt my face getting warm and assumed my cheeks were turning crimson. I hoped she didn’t see that either.

  Perhaps I was being too glib because she glanced back toward the door as if she had mistaken my office for another. “This is the Ferguson Detective Agency? You are Reed Ferguson?”

  “It is and I am.” I smiled in my most assured manner, then immediately questioned what I was doing. This woman was making no sense and here I was, flirting with her like a high-school jock. I glanced behind her at the framed movie poster from the The Big Sleep, starring Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. It was one of my favorites, and I hung the poster in my office as a sort of ins
piration. I wanted to be as cool as Bogie. I wondered what he would do right now.

  She puckered pink lips at me. “I need your help.”

  “That’s what I’m here for.” Now I sounded cocky.

  The pucker turned into a fully developed frown. “I’m very serious, Mr. Ferguson.”

  “Reed.” I furrowed my brow and looked at my potential first client with as serious an expression as I could muster. I noticed for the first time that she applied her makeup a bit heavy, in an attempt to cover blemishes.

  “Reed,” she said. “Let me explain.” Now we were getting somewhere. I found the gold pen, popped the top off it and scrounged around another drawer for a notepad. “My name is Amanda Ghering.” She spoke in an even tone, bland, like she was reading a grocery list. “My husband, Peter, left on a business trip three weeks ago yesterday. He was supposed to return on Monday, but he didn’t.”

  Today was Thursday. I wondered what she’d been doing since Monday. “Did you report this to the police?”

  She raised a hand to stop me. “Please. I already have and they gave me the standard response, ‘Give it some time, he’ll show up.’ ”

  That one puzzled me. The police wouldn’t file a missing persons case for twenty-four hours, but after that, I was certain they would do something more. “They didn’t do anything?”

  “They asked me some questions, said they would make a few calls to the airlines.” Amanda paused. “They were more concerned about my relationship with Peter,” she said, gazing out the window behind me. The only thing she would see was an incredible view of a renovated warehouse across the street. For a brief moment, her face was flushed in as deep a sadness as I’d ever seen. Then it was gone, replaced by a foggy look when she turned back to me. “You see, Peter wasn’t exactly what you’d call a faithful husband.” She frowned, creating wrinkles on an otherwise perfect face. “Well, that’s not completely true. He was faithful, to his libido at least. But not to our marriage.” I paraphrased the last couple of sentences on the notepad. “He travels quite a bit with his company, computer consulting, so he has ample opportunity to dally. And he never tries hard to conceal what he’s doing.”