On The Lam: A Margot Harris Mystery (Margot Harris Mystery Series Three Book 3)

by Nora Kane

  Cassie was about to ask who Vince was, but Margot shot her look and Cassie kept her mouth shut.

  “I don’t care about that,” Margot told her.

  “Then what?”

  “I’m looking into his disappearance.”

  “Well, good for you. All I’ve got to say to that is good luck.”

  She was getting ready to shut the door in Margot’s face when Cassie said, “It’s for my new show. It’s an unsolved crime thing.”

  Mrs. Armstrong stopped shutting the door and asked, “Television?”

  “YouTube, but my last show had over a million views.”

  “Are you going to put me on the show?”

  “If you want to be.”

  “I don’t see a camera.”

  “She does the pre-interview,” Cassie said as she pointed to Margot.

  “All right, come on in. I don’t have much to say.”

  Instead of by the pool, they sat at the kitchen table.

  “Did you know he was going to do a job with his pal Strickland that day? Probably something for a local hood by the name of Stone?”

  “Never heard of him and no, I didn’t know. We had an agreement. There was stuff I didn’t need to know. I didn’t ask about it and he wouldn’t have told me if I did.” Rose paused and found her cigarettes. Before she lit one, she said, “Of course, I had a pretty good idea when something was going down. I could tell how heavy of shit he was going to be involved in by the way he acted the day before. Getting ready to do gangster shit made him grumpy.”

  “Was he grumpy the day before he disappeared?”

  “Oh yeah. Which is why I might have told the cops he could be kind of flaky. He’d be pissed off if I told them he was out being a gangster.”

  “Why did you hire Mattis?”

  “He was recommended.”

  “By whom?”

  She laughed. “Now that I think about, it only by himself. I immediately regretted it. He was clearly just a hustler looking for an angle. I think he was hoping to get something on Stone so he could squeeze a few bucks out of him.”

  “This the same Stone you never heard of?”

  “Did I say that?”

  “Yeah.”

  She laughed again. “I guess I lied. Anyway, the funny thing about Mattis is, even though he couldn’t find a missing sock, I think it was because of him we got the eye. They were warning him off. You should talk to him; he might actually know something.”

  “That’d be kind of difficult, somebody killed him.”

  “Bummer for him.”

  “You were paying him, did he ever tell you what it was he might know?”

  Mrs. Armstrong shook her head. “No, and maybe it’s better that way.”

  “Did you know your husband was seeing a stripper named Rose?”

  Cassie looked surprised and so did Mrs. Armstrong.

  “Who told you that?” Mrs. Armstrong asked.

  “Are you saying I’m mistaken?”

  “No, I’m too shitty of a liar today to tell you differently. He was seeing her and I knew about it. I wish I didn’t. I was pretty good at pretending he was somebody different than what he was, but sometimes you can’t avoid it. Especially when some asshole insists on telling you about it.”

  “Was that asshole named Strickland?”

  “Yep, that’s him…Oh, wait, I said I never heard of him didn’t I?”

  Margot shrugged and Mrs. Armstrong continued, “He was supposedly Steve’s buddy, but he was sitting right where you are telling me how my husband is banging this chick. The only difference was he was drinking my beer and smoking my cigarettes. He pretended he was doing it for me, but it was bullshit. He liked her and was pissed she went for Steve. The fact he was mad about it shows how delusional that prick was.”

  “So, Strickland must have been pretty upset to rat out his buddy to his wife.”

  “He was, but what else was he going to do? Steve would have beat his ass. He’s lucky he never found out because Steve might have killed him.”

  “What did you do about it if you never told Steve?”

  “Nothing. What could I do? And to be fair, I’ve always had a bit of a wandering eye myself.”

  Chapter 10

  “Okay,” Cassie said as they drove away, “one of them is lying. Which one?”

  “My money would be on Rose. Mrs. Armstrong is a shitty liar.”

  “But why?”

  “Something else happened back then, and Rose was part of it. It was pretty clear Mattis was extorting money from her, but her husband knew about her past already—at least, the broad strokes. He had more on her than that she used to be a stripper who ran with a rough crowd.”

  “What do you think it was?”

  “I don’t know. Why don’t we go ask?”

  “Do you think she killed Mattis? Not personally but had it done?”

  “It’s not impossible.”

  “Do you think it was because of us?”

  “No. If it was her, she put it in motion before we showed up.”

  They arrived and saw Ronnie the security guard’s car was parked in front of the house. They were walking to the door when he stepped out of the house and intercepted them.

  “She doesn’t want to talk to you right now, or ever, if I’m going to be honest.”

  “I don’t really think that’s up to you,” Margot told him. “If she doesn’t want to talk to me, she can come out and tell me herself. Or, I can go in and she can tell me herself. What I’m saying, Ronnie, is get out of the way.”

  “Don’t kid yourself, Margot. You don’t want to mess with me, you really don’t.”

  “How’d you know my name?”

  He smiled and said, “You think just because I’m working as a rent-a-cop for a bunch of spoiled rich people I’m going to be a pushover? This isn’t the octagon, Margot, and you don’t have the whole police department backing you up. Walk away.”

  “You seem to know a lot about me. Did you run my plate yesterday?”

  “It’s my business to know things.”

  “You know about her too?” Margot said and motioned to Cassie.

  “You mean the internet star who just about got herself killed for small-time fame?”

  Margot looked back at his car. It certainly was the right size and model to be the car she’d seen in front of Cassie's house. She said to him, “You find her address too?”

  “Why would you ask me that?”

  “Were you out in front of her house last night?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “What’s your last name, Ronnie?”

  “Noneof. As in none of your fucking business.”

  “Funny. You know I can find out, right?”

  “Then go ahead and do it, but do it somewhere else. Right now, you’re trespassing.”

  Margot considered her options. The best one might not be getting into a fight on the street. Unlike the other day, neighbors really were watching this time. The guy across the street was standing on his lawn taking the whole scene in. She could tell Radcliff what she knew and he could ask Rose. Ronnie couldn’t keep him out.

  “Alright Ronnie, you win.”

  “I didn’t need you to tell me that. Have a good day.”

  Margot looked at his thick arm and the tattoos on his right bicep. Then she asked, “What are you covering up?”

  “None of your business. What do you care anyway?”

  “Just curious,” Margot said, thinking Ronnie wore his shirts the same way as Stone had described Armstrong wearing his.

  Margot went back to her car, but noticed the neighbor still lingering at the edge of his lawn across the street.

  He smiled as Cassie walked around to the passenger door and said, “Sorry we’ve got such an asshole working security.”

  “Hey, I don’t have to live here,” Cassie said.

  “Yeah, I guess having a guy like that has its advantages, though if it were me who you were coming to
see, I doubt he would have noticed let alone been there to tell you to go away.”

  “Rose gets special treatment?”

  “Yeah, I guess she earns it.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Margot asked as she came around the car to talk to him.

  “Nothing, I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “But you did. Does Ronnie take a special interest in Rose?”

  “Yeah, you could say that, but hey, I don’t know what they do behind closed doors. It could be he’s just consulting on her security.”

  “How often does he consult on her security?”

  “I’m not here all the time, but I’d say once a week? More if Mr. Nelson is out of town.”

  Ronnie came back out of the house and started down the lawn.

  The neighbor shook his fist at Margot and said, “You should leave that poor woman alone. She doesn’t deserve that kind of harassment.” He followed that with a wink.

  He looked up at Ronnie as Margot and Cassy got back in the car and said, “You’re doing God’s work, young man.”

  “So,” Cassy said, as they drove away. “What are the odds Mattis was blackmailing her about banging her local rent-a-cop?”

  “Pretty good, I’d say.”

  “Huh, I would have thought she could do better. I mean, the guy across the street was better-looking and he clearly had an interest. Plus Ronnie just seems like a dick.”

  “No accounting for taste. He had nice arms, I guess.”

  “For an old guy, but he’s too proud of them. Do you think he killed Mattis?”

  “Could be. I wonder if he owns a twenty-two. I guess it’s time to pass on what we know to Radcliff.”

  “Did we just solve a crime?”

  “Maybe, maybe not. The neighbor might be full of shit and even if he’s not, we don’t know Mattis was putting the squeeze on her for that. Even if he was, that doesn’t mean Ronnie killed him. It’s still something.”

  “Do you really think it was his car in front of my house?”

  Margot shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “Why did you ask about his horrible tattoo?”

  “He matched the description of someone else, though it couldn’t be him.”

  “Who?”

  “Steven Armstrong. Only he has both eyes and seems very much alive.”

  “Except they never did a DNA match. It might not have been Armstrong’s eye. There’s no shortage of blue eyes out there.”

  “So, he just disappeared and sent an eye to throw them off the trail?”

  “It does sound crazy. It seems there would be easier ways.”

  “Unless there’d just been a high profile case where a killer took the eyes. Then it might make perfect sense.”

  “And he just happened to run into his old friend Rose working as a rent-a-cop?”

  “Maybe. Maybe he took the job to get close to her, maybe he’s been seeing her since he disappeared. Or maybe it’s not him.”

  “And that’s what Mattis was blackmailing her about?”

  “Probably, but just the sleeping with a security guard part. Ronnie wouldn’t need to be Armstrong for that part to work.”

  “Yeah, but what if that was the new information? It probably got him killed. ”

  “If any of this is true, which it probably isn’t.”

  “How do we find out?”

  “First, we go back to the office and call Radcliff and tell him about what the neighbor told us—without bringing up our batshit crazy theory. Then we get on the computer and find out all we can about Ronnie.”

  “Since we’re still doing crazy speculation, can I throw another one at you?”

  “Sure.”

  “Mattis took two twenty-two caliber slugs to the back of the head, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You know who else died that way?”

  “Lots of people, actually. Some pros think that’s the best way to do somebody. No collateral damage and having the bullets rattle around in the victim's skull does enough damage that no one is getting back up.”

  “Okay, but who else that is involved in this case?”

  “Strickland.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Except they found the gun after some wannabe hitman shot himself in the head with it.”

  “Did they ever find anything else other than the gun to tie him to the crime?”

  “Well, he wasn’t able to produce an alibi.”

  “Is that, like, cop humor?”

  “Yeah, did you like it?”

  “Yeah, I guess I did. But you didn’t answer the question.”

  “I’d have to look at the file, but how much more did they need?”

  Cassie shrugged. “If we’re going to engage in wild speculation, I figured we might as well go all out. Maybe the same killer did them both.”

  “Armstrong?”

  “Why not?”

  Chapter 11

  “Hey, have you done anything about Ronnie Pearson yet?” Margot asked Radcliff. He’d called to say he would be working late, which was fine because so was Margot.

  Whether Ronnie was Armstrong or not, he became an immediate person of interest when Margot passed on the neighbor’s suspicions.

  “Funny you should ask. We went to serve a warrant at his apartment but apparently, Ronnie gave his employer a false address. All we found was a single webcam.”

  “Was it on?”

  “Yeah, I’d say it was set up to let Ronnie know if someone like me was looking for him.”

  “Damn, it fits.”

  “What fits? I’m not sure how an obnoxious security guard who’s carrying on with a lonely housewife jumping to a guy practicing spy craft fits with anything.”

  “Ronnie isn’t his real name.”

  “He had a social security number, and his license checks out.”

  “Except Ronnie Pearson went missing fifteen years ago. Right around the time Steven Armstrong disappeared.”

  “That’s interesting.”