“A guy as smart as Rasmus is going to cover his tracks well.”
“You can say that a–” I began, but caught myself. “Never mind. Thanks. I’m off to see if I can find Andre.”
He was laughing when I hung up.
CHAPTER EIGHT
2:05 PM
I put away my phone and thought about what to do. It was one thing to say I needed to find Andre; it was another to do it. He could still be at Holly’s, but if he left, he could be anywhere. I also needed to see if the maid, Betsy, knew anything about Holly’s whereabouts. Would she know where Andre was?
As I mulled things over, I pictured a map in my mind. Holly’s house was between the Cherry Hills Country Club, where I was now, and Andre’s house. I could stop at her house and see if I could get Betsy to talk, and if that didn’t result in anything, I might be able to find out if Andre was there. If so, I could sit back and wait for him to leave the Rasmus house and follow him. If he wasn’t there, and Betsy couldn’t shed light on where Holly was, I could proceed to Andre’s house and see if he had taken her there.
Decision made, I started the 4-Runner and drove out of the parking lot and north on University Boulevard. Traffic wasn’t bad. Hazy clouds blotted out the sun as I drove back to Holly’s house. I arrived at 2:30, and the first thing I noticed was that the black SUV was not in the driveway. But could it be in the garage? I wondered. Only one way to find out. I glanced up and down the street, got out and locked the 4-Runner, then rushed across the street and up to the side of the garage. I sidled along the wall to a window and peeked inside. In the space closest to me was a red BMW convertible, but the other two spaces were empty. Unless someone other than Andre had taken the SUV, which I doubted, he was gone. Good. Time to talk to Betsy.
I dashed back to the front of the house and up to the front door. I rang the bell and waited. Low chimes sounded, but no one came to the door. Crap, I thought. What if Betsy was gone, too? I poked the doorbell button with more force, as if that would make a difference. And, lo and behold, it seemed to work. A moment later the door opened.
“Ye –?” Betsy started to say, then clipped off the end of the word when she recognized me. “The missus isn’t home. Perhaps I can leave a message for her?”
The missus? I thought. What is this, 1950?
I pointed at her. “I’d like to talk to you about Holly.”
“What? Why?” She gazed at me curiously, then frowned. “I’m sure I have nothing to say, and I’m very busy. Good day, sir.” With that, she slammed the door shut. I stood on the porch for a second and stared at the dark wood door.
“Go away or I’ll call the police,” Betsy called out from the other side, her voice muffled.
I held up my hands in supplication and eyed the peephole in the door. “I’m going.” I backed up and headed down the drive. I strolled away from the house, but when I was sure Betsy couldn’t see me, I stopped. The street was still quiet. Before I could talk myself out of it, I ran up the lawn to the garage. Earlier I’d seen a wood fence that enclosed the backyard. I thought I might be able to go around back and get inside the house, and then plead my case with Betsy. Or she’d scream and call for help. It wasn’t the best plan, but I didn’t know how else I might get her to talk.
I hurried along the garage wall and up to the fence, then listened. No sounds of dogs. Good. I quietly tried the gate handle. Locked. I swore under my breath, then grabbed the top of the fence and hoisted myself up. I lay with my stomach on top of the fence, resisting the urge to groan. I hoped Bogie wasn’t turning over in his grave. Then I checked out the yard.
It was huge, with a pool, deck chairs, tables, and a long, covered bar area. It was so large, I’d bet they’d torn down two houses to create such a big lot. I didn’t see anyone, so I swung my feet over the fence and landed with a thud on the other side. I wiped splinters of wood off my palms and the front of my shirt, then edged along the back side of the garage and up to a long porch that had expensive deck furniture strategically placed around an outdoor fireplace. I paused and watched the house. From somewhere inside, I heard a TV – some kind of talk show – but nothing else. I squinted through the closest window and saw a 70-inch flat screen television, but no one was sitting at the couches or chairs that were in the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed movement. Past the TV room was a kitchen, and Betsy was bustling about it. I stole across the porch and up to sliding glass doors. To the left was the kitchen, to the right, a TV room. Directly inside were a table and chairs. Through the screen door, I could hear Betsy talking to herself. I pressed myself against the wall beside the doors and listened.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Lidia,” Betsy said. I listened for a few seconds more, then realized Betsy was watching a culinary show with Lidia Bastianich. Betsy was talking to the TV, I thought.
I crept to the kitchen window and peered inside. The kitchen was big, just like the rest of the house, with two top-and-bottom ovens, a commercial-size refrigerator, a large, square island with a sitting area and stools that faced the kitchen, two sinks, granite countertops, and cherry cabinetry. Very expensive. Betsy was at the island, making something with flour and sugar. As she mixed ingredients, she looked toward the window and I ducked. Then I went back to the door. She was now at the sink, her back to me, so I tried the screen door. It slid open. I stepped into the room and up to the island. Betsy finished at the sink and turned around, a spatula in her hand. She saw me and screamed.
“Wait,” I began, again holding up my hands to show I meant no harm.
“Get out!” She threw the spatula at me. I ducked as she yelled, “I’m calling the police.” She reached into her apron as she backed away.
“I’m here to help Holly!” I said in a rush of words. “She called me for help, but something happened to her. You know something, don’t you?”
She paused, one hand still awkwardly inside her apron pocket.
“Please,” I begged. “I’m trying to find her.”
She finally pulled her hand out of the apron, but without a phone or weapon.
“You’re Betsy, right?”
Her eyes were slits. “How do you know that?”
“I talked to Kristin, Holly’s sister.”
“I know who Kristin is,” she snapped.
“Do you know where Holly is?”
Her eyes filled with worry as she shook her head.
“I saw the look on your face when Andre came home without Holly,” I said. “You knew something was wrong.”
“Yes,” she said softly. “Andre is always with her. That is, unless William is with her. When Andre came home without her…” Her voice broke for a second, and then she muttered, “I knew it was just a matter of time before he did something to her.”
“Who did something to her? William? Or Andre?”
“I don’t –” She stopped talking and leaned her hands on the island and stared at me. “Who are you?”
“Reed Ferguson.” I studied her to see if that meant anything.
She gazed at me and straightened her hair, then fidgeted with the hem of her apron. “I’ve never heard of you.”
“So you don’t know if you can trust me,” I said. She nodded. I pulled out my wallet and showed her my Private Investigator’s license. One didn’t have to be licensed in the state of Colorado, and I’d bought the license on the Internet, but she didn’t need to know that. “I’m a private investigator. Holly hired me to help her get away from William.” I hoped Kristin was right and that I could, in fact, trust Betsy. “But Holly never showed.”
Her head dropped and she stared at the floor. “So she finally got the guts to leave him.”
“It would appear so, but she’s disappeared.” I bent my head down and tried to meet her eyes. “Where did Andre take her?”
She finally looked up. “This morning? He took her to church, then they came back here before he took her to the spa.”
“I met her at church,” I said. “What did she
do when she came back here?”
“She had breakfast. She didn’t eat much. She just sat and looked out the window and drank coffee. She was nervous.”
“Did she talk to you at all?”
She shrugged. “Just the usual. What’s for dinner, how are the preparations for the party this weekend.”
“They’re having a party?”
“Yes, tomorrow night. A bunch of bigwigs, so there’s a lot of prep for that, scheduling with the caterers, checking the guest list.”
“Sounds like it was a normal morning, except for the nervousness.”
“Yes.”
“And then she and Andre left for the spa.”
“Yes, at the usual time.”
“And she hasn’t been back since.”
She nodded, then paused and cocked her head. “Did you hear that?”
I listened, too, but didn’t hear anything. “No.”
“You can’t be here!” she hissed. “If Andre or William come home, I don’t know what they’ll do.”
Her jaw dropped and she darted out of the room.
CHAPTER NINE
2:45 PM
I started down the hallway, but Betsy came back a moment later, a relieved look on her face. “I thought Andre had come back.” She shuddered. “You can’t be here when he returns.”
“I’ll sneak out if he does.” Then I continued before she thought to ask me to leave. “What about after the spa? When Andre came back here without Holly, what did he tell you?”
“That the missus stayed at the spa longer today and that he would be leaving to pick her up in a while.” She grimaced at the recollection.
“You didn’t believe him.”
“No. It’s been a long time since she went anywhere without him or William.”
I kept firing questions at her. “How long have you been employed here?”
“Five years. I’m a maid, personal assistant to the missus. I help coordinate events – whatever they need.”
“But you remember a time when Holly went out on her own?”
She nodded. “But then it suddenly stopped. About that same time, William grew even meaner.”
“How so?”
“I’d hear him arguing with her, and he would threaten her.”
“Did you ever see William harm her?”
She snickered. “William’s too smart for that. But I saw the signs.” She touched her cheek. “A bruise she’d try to cover up. Crying her eyes out, but then when I’d come into the room, she’d perk up and act like nothing was wrong. But she knew I knew. I offered to help a time or two, but she’d tell me everything was okay.”
“Did you think to call anyone? Get her help?”
She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know William, do you?”
“No,” I said.
“He’s not someone you cross…and I need this job.”
“I understand.” Although it wasn’t easy.
“Besides, until she was ready to leave him, it wouldn’t do any good.”
I sighed. “You may be right, but it must’ve been hard to watch him abuse her.”
She blinked back tears. “Yes,” she finally murmured.
“Assuming William found out about Holly’s plans, and he’s stopped her from leaving, any idea where he or Andre could’ve taken her?”
“William’s in court today.”
“What about Andre?”
“I know very little about him, and he doesn’t tell me anything, so no, I don’t know where he might’ve taken her.”
“What did he do when he came back here?”
“He went into William’s office. I heard some papers shuffling and then he was talking on the phone.”
“What’d he say?”
“I didn’t hear a lot.”
“But you tried.”
She stared at me guiltily. “I had to be careful he didn’t see me.” I waited for her to continue. “It wasn’t much. Something about being there, and Vail. Then something about needing to be careful and ‘I’ll take care of it.’ I heard that clearly. Then he suddenly came out of the office and I pretended I was dusting, but I don’t know if he thought I was eavesdropping.” She had nearly ripped a tear in her apron hem, she was pulling at it so hard. Andre had her really scared.
“What’d he do after he came out of the office?”
“He left without saying a word. I hoped he would return with Holly, but he hasn’t come back.”
“So he mentioned Vail.”
She nodded.
“That doesn’t make sense,” I mused. “It’s too far away.” I thought for a moment longer. “Did you try calling Holly?”
“I tried her cell, but no answer. I left a message but she hasn’t called back. I’ve been worried sick.” She paused again and listened hard, then shook her head. “Sorry, I’m hearing things.”
“You didn’t see this coming?”
This time the headshake was emphatic. “No. The missus didn’t hint at anything. She did have me buy a disposable cellphone for her the other day, but I figured she wanted a private conversation with a friend or something. And it would be like her, to try and protect me.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Because I’m sure William is going to ask me that very thing. And he has a way of being polite, but underneath it, he’s so dangerous.”
“You didn’t overhear a phone call, Holly talking to someone about what she was thinking?” She shook her head again. “Has the fighting between William and Holly been worse than before?”
“Not any more than usual, although William has seemed more tense the last few days.” Her lips pursed.
“You don’t like William at all, do you?”
“Would you?”
“Why don’t you quit?”
“I would never do that to the missus. She needs me, and besides, I don’t know how I’d get another job at my age. William pays very well, and she’s so sweet to me.”
I quickly went over the conversation. “You said William’s having a party here tomorrow night.”
“Yes. A lot of his rich and powerful associates will be here.” A bit of scorn tinged her voice. “He’s trying to impress them, get them in his corner for when he runs for mayor.”
“He’ll have a hard time explaining Holly’s absence, unless she returns by then.”
Hope crossed her face. “You think she’s okay?”
“I have a hard time believing William would murder his wife right before a big party for potential supporters. But what if he’s just punishing Holly, trying to scare her into submission? He takes her somewhere, threatens her, but by the time the party rolls around, she’s here, playing the part of the dutiful wife.”
She thought about that. “It’s possible. William can certainly put that kind of fear into her.”
“Which means I have to find her.”
“I wish I could help, but I don’t know anything.” She sighed. “I wish I could do more,” she said.
You probably could have, I thought, but didn’t say it. Someone should’ve reported Rasmus a long time ago.
“Can I look around?” I asked.
She played with the apron hem some more. “Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Andre could come back at any time.”
“I’ll hurry.”
“What do you think you’ll find?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “A clue to where William might have taken Holly?”
She finally gave me a hesitant nod. “Okay, but be quick.”
She came around the island and led me down a long hallway. “I don’t know what I’ll do if Andre comes back while you’re here,” she repeated.
Neither did I, and I had to hope I wouldn’t find out.
CHAPTER TEN
2:55 PM
Betsy quickly escorted me through the house, keeping a close eye as I looked around. The ground level included a formal living room and dining room, two spare bedrooms, a laundry room down the hall from the kitchen, an office, and the den I’d seen earl
ier. Off the den was a storage room and a short hallway that led to the garage. I noted nothing unusual. The basement was a man-cave, with a pool table, poker table, multiple bars and TVs, and a couple of pinball machines. There was also a wine cellar and a walk-in humidor. It was the kind of place I’d enjoy, minus the humidor and wine cellar. I’d never been a cigar smoker, and I was a beer drinker rather than a wine connoisseur. After checking all around, I saw that there was no place to hide Holly.
“This must be great for entertaining,” I said as I noticed a cigar odor lingering in the air.
“Yes, this is where William comes with his associates,” Betsy said.
Not friends, I observed.
I paused by the bar and glanced around again.
“Come on,” Betsy said nervously.
I started for the stairs, then noticed some coasters sitting on a bar counter. Vail Valley Brewery.
“They like Vail a lot, don’t they?” I said as I pointed at the coasters.
“Yes, they do. Please hurry, Mr. Ferguson.”
Betsy was rushing up the stairs, so I hurried after her. She paused in the hallway at the top of the stairs. “Are you finished?”
“What about upstairs?”
She let out a sigh, then tramped up to the second floor. “I don’t know what you expect to find.”
There were four rooms upstairs. One was filled with gym equipment, two were spare bedrooms that I quickly checked, and the last was the master bedroom. Betsy grew extremely agitated when I entered that room.
It was three times the size of my bedroom, with a king-size bed, nightstands, dressers, an armoire with a TV in it, a sitting area, walk-in closet and large master bath. One of the dressers had a few framed photos of William and Holly.
“I don’t think you should be in here,” she said as I walked around the room.
I ignored that and went to the dresser and looked at the photos. In all three, William and Holly were smartly dressed, with big smiles planted on their faces. They looked every bit the power couple, but Holly’s smile looked forced.
Night of the Hunted: A Reed Ferguson Mystery (A Private Investigator Mystery Series - Crime Suspense Thriller Book 11) Page 5
