Jock stepped past me, put his hand on Peterson’s chest, and pushed him back into the house. I followed. “Doug Peterson,” I said, “you are in more trouble than you can even imagine. Sit down.”
Jock pushed him into a nearby easy chair in front of the TV. Fear was written on the boy’s face, shocked by the violent intrusion into his sanctuary. “What do you want?” he asked, his voice trembling.
“Where are the Brewsters?” Jock asked.
“How would I know?” He was making an effort, scared as he was. My respect level rose. He was scared but wanted to protect his friends.
“Because,” I said, “two days ago you rented a U-Haul van, packed up the Brewsters, and drove to Hickory with them following you in their car.”
He blanched, the color draining out of his face.
“Look, Doug,” I said, “we’re here to help. I met with the Brewsters three days ago. They couldn’t tell me much. We want to know about Katherine’s murder and why the Brewsters lied to us.”
“That was you who came to their house on Sunday?”
“Yes.”
“You said they lied to you. I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to,” said Jock, scowling.
Doug looked at Jock and back at me. “We think you had something to do with Katherine’s death,” I said.
“No. God, she was my whole life. We were going to get married.”
“Why were you on the dinner boat with her the night she was murdered? You didn’t go to Florida with her.”
“Who are you?” he asked, plaintively.
“I’m a lawyer and this is my investigator. We’re looking into the murders on the Dulcimer.”
“Why?”
“That’s none of your business,” Jock said, a tightness in his voice. He was playing his role nicely. “Answer the question.”
“No,” Doug said, “I didn’t go to Florida with her. Look, we’d been having a little rough patch. I didn’t like her working at Hooters, but she was making too much money to quit. She was going back to school, and as soon as we finished we were going to get married.”
“What was your problem with Hooters?”
“Not with the restaurant, with some of the customers.”
“What do you mean?”
“Guys were hitting on her.”
“Surprise.”
“Yeah, but there was this one guy in particular. He was stalking her, calling her cell phone, driving by her house.”
“Did she give him her phone number or address?”
“No. I think he got it from one of the other girls, but I’m not sure.”
“Did he ever threaten her?”
“Not in so many words. But he’d come into the restaurant and sit for hours staring at her. He told her once that he loved her and would have her one way or the other. That may have been a threat.”
“Did she go to the police?”
“No. She thought she could handle it.”
“Did you ever talk to the stalker?”
“Once. I saw him at Hooters. Kat pointed him out to me. I went over and told him to leave her alone or I’d kick his ass.”
“What kind of response did you get?”
“He just laughed.”
“That was it? Nothing else?”
“No. Kat was embarrassed that I’d made a scene. Told me to butt out.”
“Did you?”
“Pretty much. That was the cause of our disagreement. I felt like I wasn’t protecting my girl, but she wouldn’t let me get involved.”
“Do you know the guy’s name?”
“No. She wouldn’t tell me. Said she was afraid I’d do something stupid.”
“Do you know anything about him?”
“Just what one of the girls told me.”
“What?”
“That he owned a travel agency and traveled a lot.”
“What was the name of the agency?”
“EZGo Travel.”
CHAPTER FORTY
I looked at Jock. “Now there’s a nasty coincidence.”
“Yeah. That’s the same agency that bought the gift certificate at the Anna Maria Inn.”
Doug said, “That’s right.”
“What do you know about that?” I asked.
“I had dinner with the Brewsters the day Kat was killed.”
I interrupted him, an edge to my voice. “Don’t lie to me, Doug. The Brewsters already pulled that one on me. You were on the boat with Kat that evening. I’ve got the picture to prove it.”
He nodded. “I was.”
I was puzzled. “How do explain having dinner with the Brewsters and still making it to the boat that evening?”
“We finished dinner about one in the afternoon, and I caught a plane out of here a little after three.”
“So you had lunch with the Brewsters?”
“Well, yeah. Lunch, dinner, whatever.”
The light dawned and I looked at Jock. “We’re forgetting our roots, old buddy.”
Jock laughed. “That we are, podna.”
I mentally kicked myself. The Brewsters hadn’t lied to me. In the South, a lot of people still called the midday meal “dinner” and the evening meal “supper.” Jock and I had both grown up knowing that dinner was served at noon. Lunch was something your dad took to work in a lunch-box or you took to school in a brown paper bag.
“What made you decide to go to Katherine?”
“I was talking to the Brewsters about her trip. She’d called them and said she liked the area and was enjoying being alone for a little bit. They told me Kat had called the charity that sent her the gift certificate. She wanted to thank Mr. Brumbaugh, the man who sent it to her. The people at Charlotte Learns had never heard of him.”
“Didn’t they think that was a little strange?”
“Yes. But Kat only called the morning she was supposed to leave, and she really wanted to go. Told her mom you’re not supposed to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“But this was the first you’d heard about it?”
“Yes. I asked where the gift certificate had come from and Mrs. Brewster went and got a copy of it that Kat had made for what she called her memory box. When I saw it had been issued to EZGo Travel, bells started going off. I figured the bastard from Hooters was trying to get her to Florida for some reason.”
“You thought she was in danger?”
“Yes.”
“Did you call her?”
“I tried, but she didn’t answer her cell. I called the Anna Maria Inn and a lady there told me that Kat was out. I left a message for her to call me as soon as she got in. The lady said Kat was going on a dinner cruise and it might be late before she got back. Then I checked airline schedules.”
“Did you ever hear from her?”
“No.”
“How did you know where to find Kat?”
“The lady told me the name of the restaurant the boat left from and the time. I went there and bought a ticket for the boat. I barely made it. I got there just as they were taking the lines off.”
“Did you see the stalker on the boat?”
“No. The boat was crowded. He might have been on it, but I didn’t see him.”
“Why did you run?”
“Run?”
“Yeah. After Kat was killed.”
“I didn’t know she was dead. She was really pissed when I showed up. Told me to get the hell out of her life. I left. I figured we’d sort it out when she got back to Charlotte.”
“Did you tell her about EZGo Travel and the stalker?”
“Yes, but she wasn’t concerned. Said the guy wouldn’t come all the way to Florida to harm her when he could do it in Charlotte. She thought the gift certificate was just one more ploy on his part to get to see her. She said she might as well enjoy it.”
“Didn’t you miss her when the boat docked?”
“No. She told me to get lost and that pissed me off. I went to the front of the boat to wait until we landed.
When we hit the sandbar, I went back looking for her, but the lights were out and I couldn’t see a damn thing. I didn’t want to piss her off any more than she was, so I went back to the front of the boat and stayed there until we docked. Then I started for home.”
“When did you first find out that she’d died?”
“When I got back to Charlotte. Her mom called me late that morning. The police had called her.”
“Did you tell the police about the stalker?”
“I called the Charlotte police and they told me to call the Longboat Key Police Department.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Why not? Didn’t you think it important that Katherine might have been set up by a stalker?”
“Yeah, I thought it was important, but it wouldn’t bring her back. One of the other girls at Hooters had told me this guy bragged about being part of the mob. If he was, I didn’t want them coming after me.”
“The mob? What mob?”
“I don’t know. I guess he meant the Mafia.”
“Where are the Brewsters?”
“They’re at a friend’s house outside of Hickory.”
“Why did they run?”
“When Mrs. Brewster told me about you coming to visit, I thought it might be the mob coming for us all. I told them what I thought about the stalker and the EZGo Travel thing. We decided it would be best if they hid out.”
“What about you?”
“I doubt they know who I am. Besides, I’ve got a job and school. I couldn’t just leave town.”
What’s the name of the waitress at Hooters who told you about the stalker owning the travel agency?”
“Sally. I don’t know her last name.”
I looked at Jock. “You got anything else?”
“No. I think you covered it, Counselor.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
We headed south on I-485, exited, and pulled into the parking lot of a Hooters Restaurant.
The Happy Hour crowd was there, mostly blue-collar types drinking beer and chatting up the waitresses. Jock and I took seats at the bar and ordered drinks, a diet Coke for me and an O’Doul’s for Jock. When the bartender brought them, I asked, “Is there a waitress here named Sally?”
“I can’t talk about that.”
“Did you know Katherine Brewster?”
“Yes.”
I handed her a card that showed that I was a lawyer in Longboat Key. “I’m trying to help her family find out who killed her. Katherine’s boyfriend, Doug Peterson, told me that Sally might have some information that’d be helpful.”
“Let me ask around.” She took my card and left.
Jock and I sat and sipped our drinks. In a few minutes a woman in her mid-twenties came to the bar. She had the card I’d given the bartender in her hand. She stood next to me and said, “I’m Sally. Katherine was a very good friend of mine.”
“Thank you for speaking with me,” I said. “We’ve just left Doug Peterson. He said you might be able to help us.”
“If I can.”
“Doug says that Katherine was being stalked by one of the customers here. Do you know who that was?”
“Yes. His name’s John Doremus. Or at least that’s what he said.”
I looked at Jock. “John Doe is the name of the owner of EZGo,” he said.
“Yeah,” I said. “Sally, do you know anything else about him?”
“Not really. He told me one time he was involved with the mob, but I didn’t believe him.”
“What kind of mob?”
“I assumed he was talking about organized crime.”
“Have you seen him lately?”
“No. He hasn’t been in for a while.”
“Do you remember the last time you saw him here?”
“No. But I don’t think he’s been in since Kat died.”
“You wouldn’t happen to know where he lives?”
She laughed. “No, and I don’t want to know.”
“Can you describe him?”
“He’s about forty years old, dark hair that he parts in the middle. Wears it short, not a buzz cut, by not much longer than that. Has a lot of acne scars on his cheeks, a receding chin, a nose with a little hump on the bridge. He’s big, about six feet tall, pretty heavyset, a belly that hangs over his belt. Talks with some kind of Yankee accent, like from New Jersey or New York. His teeth are very white. They might be caps, or maybe he had one of those cosmetic whitening jobs.”
“You’re very observant,” Jock said.
“Gotta be with creeps like that. If I saw him outside the restaurant, I’d run the other way. Do you think he killed Kat?”
“Don’t know,” I said. “He’s what the police call a person of interest. I’d like to talk to him. Do you think there’d be any credit card information on him in your computers?”
“No. He always paid cash.”
“How often did he come in?” Jock asked.
“Almost every night. He usually came in late and stayed until closing. I think he always hoped one of the girls would go home with him.”
“Did any of them ever go out with him?”
“I never heard of any who did, and I kinda doubt anybody would. He was too creepy.”
“Did he seem to take an inordinate interest in any of the girls?”
“You mean other than Kat?”
“Yes.”
“He hit on everybody, but Kat seemed to be his favorite. I tried to warn Kat that he could be trouble, but she always saw the good in everybody. Said he was probably just lonely. Maybe her soft heart got her killed.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Did you ever see him in here with any Asian men?”
“Asian? No. Not that I remember.”
“How about an Asian woman?”
“Definitely no. I never saw him with a woman at all.”
“How did he dress?” I asked “
What do you mean?”
“Did he wear a suit and tie, casual clothes, jeans?”
“He usually had on a pair of dress slacks and a golf shirt. They were nice clothes. Expensive looking. He seemed to have a lot of money.”
“How so?”
“He always flashed a wad of bills when he was paying for his drinks. He was a good tipper and wore a big diamond ring on each pinkie.”
“Two rings?”
“Yes. I thought that was a little much, but you know how some guys are.”
“Are you sure they were diamonds?”
“No, but they didn’t look like glass. I guess they could’ve been cubic zirconia. I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
“What now?” asked Jock. We were in the rental car, pointed toward the airport and home.
“I guess we’d better see what we can find on Doremus.”
“I guess. But that sounds like a fake name.”
“Could be. Can your guys check him out?”
Jock looked at his watch. “A bit late today, but I’ll call in the morning.
I wonder why he wanted Katherine on Anna Maria?”
“I don’t follow you.”
“He went to a lot of trouble to get that gift certificate for the Anna Maria Inn. He obviously wanted Katherine to go there. Why?”
“So he could get her alone?” I asked.
“Sure. But why Anna Maria specifically?”
“Good question. Got any ideas?”
“He might have wanted to be somewhere that he was comfortable.
Knowledgeable about the area. Wanted to impress the girl. Maybe he has a home in the area.”
“That is worth checking out,” I said. “Doremus can’t be a common name. If we can find that same name on properties in Charlotte and in our area, we’ll be able to find him.”
“Deb can probably do that as quickly as the agency,” said Jock. “We won’t get much priority.”
I looked at my watch. It was a little after nine. I pulled my phone out and called Deb.
> “Where are you?” I asked. “Working?”
“I’m in bed. It’s my day off.”
“Little early for sleeping isn’t it?”
“What makes you think I’m sleeping?”
“What’re you doing, then?”
“Duh.”
“Oops. Whose bed are you in?”
“My own.”
“Who’s there with you? “None of your business.”
“Deb, I worry about you.”
“Forget it, numbnuts. I’m all alone watching an HBO movie.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure. What do you want?”
“A little favor.”
“I’ve heard that one before.”
I told her what I needed. “If you can’t reach me on my cell, it’ll be because we’re in the air. Leave a message and I’ll call you when we land.”
We landed at Tampa a little after midnight. We were the last flight in and there were only a few passengers on our plane. The airport was quiet, the little kiosks and restaurants that lined the concourse closed and dark. I turned my cell phone on and checked for messages. One from Deb. I called voice mail, listened, and hung up.
“She found somebody,” I said to Jock. “There’s a John Doremus who owns a home in Charlotte and a condo on Seventh-Fifth Street West in Bradenton.”
“That’s got to be him.”
“Maybe we should have stayed overnight in Charlotte,” I said. “He’s not likely to be here this time of the year.”
“We’ve got to check it out.”
“Yes. We do. Tomorrow.”
An hour later we were home on Longboat Key. I typed up notes on our activities the past two days and e-mailed them to J. D. and Chaz Desmond. Then I went to bed.
J.D. called early the next morning, waking me from a dream that had something to do with beautiful women. “What’re you doing?” she asked.
“Dreaming.”
“Did I wake you up?”
“Yes. It’s okay.”
“It’s also after nine. You never sleep this late.”
“Yesterday was a long day. We got in late.”
“I got your memo. Do you think this is the same Doremus who was stalking Katherine Brewster?”
“It’s got to be,” I said. “That’s not a common name.”
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