Road Blocked: A Reed Ferguson Mystery (A Private Investigator Mystery Series - Crime Suspense Thriller Book 13)

Home > Other > Road Blocked: A Reed Ferguson Mystery (A Private Investigator Mystery Series - Crime Suspense Thriller Book 13) > Page 1
Road Blocked: A Reed Ferguson Mystery (A Private Investigator Mystery Series - Crime Suspense Thriller Book 13) Page 1

by Renee Pawlish




  Road Blocked

  A Reed Ferguson Mystery

  First Digital Edition published by Creative Cat Press

  copyright 2016 by Renée Pawlish

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Road Blocked (The Reed Ferguson Mystery Series, #13)

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  SIGN UP FOR THE GUARANTEED NO SPAM NEWSLETTER AND GET

  REEL ESTATE RIP-OFF, plus another book and a short story, FOR FREE.

  Click here to get started: http://tiny.cc/8oz71x

  Acknowledgments

  The author gratefully acknowledges all those who helped in the writing of this book, especially: Beth Treat, Janice Horne and Alice Tileston for help on doctors and Medicare billing. Any mistakes are mine. If I've forgotten anyone, please accept my apologies.

  To all my beta readers: I am in your debt!

  Bren Bailey, Bill Baker, Greg Ballinger, Pam Balog, Suzanne S. Barnhill, Ed Bowling, Van Brollini, Wanda Bryant, Jean Brown, Gia Cantwell, Jan Carrico, Deb Carroll, Rick Crabtree, Irene David, Kate Dionne, Fredette DuPont, Betty Jo English, Bonnie Esson, Lisa Gall, Tracy Gestewitz, Patti Gross, Barbara Hackel, Gloria Healey, Eileen Hill, Dennis Horner, Elisabeth Huhn, Valorie Hunter, Wallace Inman, Suzi Jantzen, Joyce Kahaly, Kay, David King, Ray Kline, Cindi Knowles, Maxine Lauer, Patrick Lyons, Lyric McKnight, Debbie McNally, Becky Neilsen, Gerry Nelson, Ronnie Nelson, Suzanne Nordhaus, Ann Owen, Janice Paysinger, Yvonne Plyler, Dave Richard, Wayne Ricks, Roger Ridgley, Mary Lou Romashko, Becky Serna, Tracie Ann Setliff, Marie Severns, Lynn Short, James Sidbury, Bev Smith, Albert Stevens, Joyce Stumpff, Morris Sweet, Stan Tanner, Jennifer Thompson, Alice Tileston, Jo Trowbridge, Shelly Voss, Sharon Williams, Lu Wilmot, Mike Wynn

  Follow me on Twitter - @reneepawlish

  And

  Facebook

  www.reneepawlish.com

  CHAPTER ONE

  “I can’t believe you made it through our entire honeymoon without getting mixed up in a crime,” Willie said to me.

  I put a hand to my chest. “Moi?”

  She grinned. “Yes, you. After the week leading up to our marriage...”

  Before you think I’m some kind of lowlife, let me explain. I’m Reed Ferguson, a private investigator, so any crime I get involved in is on the sleuthing side. Okay, that’s not completely true. I have on occasion broken the law in the course of an investigation, but I’m not a criminal. However, Willie – short for Willemina – did have a reason for her statements.

  Just two short weeks ago, I’d worked on a case right before our nuptials, but only because I had been a suspect and needed to clear my name so that we could go on our honeymoon. I’m glossing over the part where I shouldn’t have taken the case in the first place, but Willie’s point was well taken. My cases did sometimes put me – or us – in awkward situations. Regardless, one thing you don’t want to do on your honeymoon is work. At least if you want to stay married. And how could I possibly get mixed up in a crime on the island of Tahiti?

  Willie tucked her shoulder-length blond hair behind her ear in a way I found utterly lovable, and I found myself in awe that she was actually my wife. How was I so fortunate?

  We were sitting in the Lobby Bar at the InterContinental Tahiti Resort in Papeete. It was one of the best hotels on the island of Tahiti, and we’d enjoyed the overwater bungalows and the incredible views of a turquoise lagoon and Moorea, the sister island to Tahiti. Being from a landlocked state – Colorado – we’d loved being right near the ocean. We’d spent a week snorkeling, golfing, lazing on the beach, and sailing. I’d been part of the Crimson sailing team at Harvard, and skippered a number of races my senior year, but I’d never had the opportunity to sail with Willie. So this week I’d rented a sailboat, and we’d spent some time on the ocean. To my delight, Willie had enjoyed herself tremendously. But now it was the final night of our honeymoon. In the morning, we would fly back to Denver, where Willie worked as an ER admissions nurse. At the moment, I didn’t have a case, and I wished we could stay longer on the island. I stared at my bride and sighed.

  Willie put her elbows on the bar and rested her chin on her hands. “What?”

  “I love you,” I said.

  “I love you, too.” She smiled. “It’s been a fabulous week.” She’d just finished a Tahitian Sunset, a fruity drink with rum, and her face had a soft glow to it.

  I nodded and pointed at her glass. “Do you want another drink or should we go to dinner?”

  She threw me a lazy grin and giggled. The bartender looked up and she smiled at him. He gave her an amused look.

  “You flirting with him?” I asked.

  She laughed. “When I’ve got you?” Her green eyes roved lazily out to the lagoon and her head bopped slightly to soft music. “Look at that sunset.”

  I swiveled around and looked out at the lagoon. A large golden orb was partially visible above the horizon and in the lagoon, the turquoise water sparkled and danced. It was incredibly beautiful, but I didn’t want to take my eyes off Willie, so I turned back to her. Her light orange sundress accentuated a nice tan, and I found her beauty alluring.

  “I’m hungry,” she announced a moment later. She twirled her empty glass in her hand. “Even though I’d love another drink, let’s go eat.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “I want to use the restroom first.” She slid off her stool and pecked me on the cheek. “Be right back.” She strolled out of the bar, light on her feet.

  I watched her go, then signaled the bartender for the tab. While I waited, a man in white shorts and a blue Oxford shirt plunked down on a barstool next to me. As the bartender approached with my tab, the man ordered a Hinano, Tahiti’s local beer, one which I found to be a serviceable lager, nothing spectacular, but decent.

  I paid the tab, and as I did so, I surveyed the man out of the corner of my eye. I am nearing forty, and I gauged him to be about ten years older. He was tall and slender, with brown hair that was graying at the temples, a narrow jaw, and worry lines flaring from his eyes.

  “It’s paradise here,” I said.

  He glanced over at me. “Huh?”

  “You look a little anxious.” I gestured out the window at the bright blue water and sunset. “Let the aura of the island take you away from whatever’s bothering you.” I was sounding like an advertisement – blame it on alcohol and love.

  “Oh, right.” He forced a smile. “We ... uh ... had a hectic time getting here, and I need a drink.”

  “You just got here?”


  “Um, yes.” He glanced at a large silver watch.

  “Did the airlines lose your luggage?” That was every traveler’s nightmare.

  “Something like that.”

  “I’m sure you can buy anything you need in town,” I said, “and there’s plenty to do here to take your mind off your troubles. Golf, snorkeling, diving, sailing.”

  “You golf?”

  I nodded. “There’s Olivier Bréaud on this island. It’s not too far from here.”

  He seemed to perk up. “What’s the course like?”

  “It’s really nice,” I said. “It’s challenging, especially from the back tees. And it’s beautiful there. Did you bring clubs?”

  “No.”

  “That’s okay. They have rental clubs available.”

  We talked golf for another minute, and then I grabbed a napkin and a pen from the bar and drew him a quick map of the island and showed him where Olivier Bréaud was. “It’s between the mountains and lagoon, and it’s easy to get to. It’s pretty cool to golf there.”

  “Great, thanks.” He took the napkin and tucked it into his pocket.

  Willie returned and put a hand on my arm. “Are you ready?”

  I slipped off the barstool. “Yes.” I glanced at the man next to me. “Enjoy your stay.”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “Who was that?” Willie whispered as we walked out of the bar.

  I shrugged. “He just arrived and he looks like he brought his work with him.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “He didn’t look happy.”

  I took her hand. “Forget about him.” I eyed her dress that showed all her curves. “Should we skip dinner and go back to our room?”

  She giggled. “I would, but I’m starving.” She put her head on my shoulder. “There’ll be time later.”

  I winked and put my libido in check. We walked outside and hailed a cab, not an inexpensive ride in Tahiti, but we were dressed up to go to L’O à la Bouche, a gourmet French restaurant and one of Tahiti’s best. We’d been told the restaurant was romantic, so we chose it for our last night on the island, and we weren’t disappointed. The restaurant was small and unassuming, with vintage wine labels on the walls, but it was quiet and cool. I had grilled fish with a passion fruit and ginger sauce, and Willie enjoyed scorched tuna with a curry sauce. Both were fabulous. We also shared a bottle of superb wine, and by the time we returned to the hotel, we were both more than a little buzzed.

  “How about a walk along the beach?” Willie asked after the taxi dropped us off.

  In truth, I wanted to head right to our room, but I agreed. We sauntered through the hotel and out to a patio area. We took off our shoes, and I hid them near a set of steps that led down to the beach. The moon bathed everything in a soft silver light, and it was quiet as we meandered slowly along the shore, palm trees and lush green foliage to our left, dark water to our right. The sand felt cool between my toes, and the water lapped up easily toward us. It was beautiful.

  “Have you had a good time here?” I asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  The lights of the hotel, faded and it grew darker and shadowy.

  “I think we should head back,” Willie said, a little uneasily.

  “Are you spooked?” I grinned.

  She socked my arm. “Just cautious.”

  “And I love you for it.”

  We turned to head back, and Willie suddenly stopped.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “Where?”

  She pointed toward the trees. I squinted to see where she’d indicated.

  “Someone’s lying down over there,” she whispered.

  “Probably drunk,” I murmured. I took a couple of steps toward the trees and then made out what appeared to be legs protruding from the foliage.

  “Reed!” she hissed. “Be careful.”

  “Maybe he needs help.” I assumed it was a he, but I couldn’t really tell.

  The sand masked my footsteps as I approached him. Then I noticed white shorts.

  “Hey, you okay?” I called out.

  Nothing.

  I reached the body and saw an arm with a big silver watch on the wrist. I studied the body more closely. It was the man I’d seen at the bar. He was lying face down in the sand, his body partially in the foliage. I nudged his leg with my foot.

  “You have a little too much to drink?” I asked.

  No response, so I squatted down and shook him harder. Then I moved some branches out of the way, placed two fingers to his neck, and felt for a pulse. After a moment, I sat back on my haunches.

  Willie advanced carefully. I could sense her trepidation. “Is he okay?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “He’s dead.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “What?” Willie stopped in her tracks.

  I let my eyes rove around the area. The tall palms partially obscured the moonlight, and shadows crept all around us. I didn’t see anything in the sand around the body. I listened but heard only the sound of the ocean lapping on the shore, Willie’s nervous breathing, and my heartbeat. Then it all faded to the background as I leaned toward the body for a closer look.

  “Reed!” Willie said.

  “It’s okay,” I murmured.

  I didn’t see any blood on his clothing, so I put my hand on his arm. Still warm. Then I gently lifted his left shoulder.

  “Reed!” Willie repeated.

  “I’m just checking for a wound.”

  I succeeded in getting his chest up a little and I peered underneath. I didn’t see any blood underneath him, but in the dark, and with having to be careful not to disturb the body too much, I couldn’t be sure. I slowly guided his shoulder back to the ground, and then I carefully looked over his body. I didn’t see any kind of wound, but when I came to his neck, I thought I saw some bruising.

  I leaned back. “He might’ve been strangled.”

  “Really?”

  Did I detect a bit of curiosity in her tone? She stepped up to me, put her hand on my shoulder and peered down at the body.

  “See?” I gestured at his neck.

  She leaned closer. “You may be right,” she said. “We need to call the police.”

  I nodded, but couldn’t resist the urge to check his pockets. “No wallet or passport. You’re supposed to carry identification all the time.” Before we’d left Denver, I’d done some research in Tahiti. It’s in French Polynesia, a province of France, and French laws apply. “But that doesn’t mean that everyone knows or follows all the laws.” I wondered what French laws applied when one found a body.

  “Whoever did this may have stolen his wallet,” Willie said.

  I glanced over at her and smiled. “That was my next thought.”

  Willie stepped back, and I stood up and brushed off my knees. My curiosity was getting the best of me. What happened to this guy? Just a few hours ago, I’d been talking to him at the bar. I studied the ground around the body. Nothing. No scrap of paper, blood, or anything that might be a clue. Then I noticed something.

  “Look.” I pointed to the ground on the other side of the body.

  Willie looked. “What?”

  “The ground’s been trampled. See that ground cover? Some of the leaves are crushed, and branches are broken.”

  “Uh-huh.” Any interest she’d had in my deductive reasoning had vanished. “Let’s go.”

  “Did you hear anything when we walked by here?”

  She shook her head. “Not a thing.”

  “Me, neither.” Since it appeared he hadn’t been dead very long, we’d come very close to a murderer. “Did it happen before we came by, and we just didn’t see the body? If that’s the case, the killer was really quiet.” I glanced at the disturbed area in the trees. “But that seems unlikely. I’ll bet this just happened. And it had to be a strong person to strangle him.” I stared into the trees. Was the assailant still around? Was he watching us?

  “I see that gleam in your eye,”
Willie said.

  “What? It’s too dark to see what my eyes are doing.” I played up the innocent demeanor, but it wasn’t working.

  She crossed her arms. “Babe, I know detecting is your business, but we’re on our honeymoon, okay?”

  “You’re right.” I went over and kissed her.

  “Thank you.”

  She had been so pleased that I’d made it through a week on Tahiti without getting involved in a case. How could I spoil it now?

  “Let’s go back to the hotel and call the police,” I said.

  “Should one of us stay here with the body?” she asked.

  I glanced over my shoulder, back into the gloomy trees. “If someone’s still there, that’s not a good idea.”

  She shuddered. “Yeah, you’re right. We need to get out of here.”

  I took her hand and we hurried back along the beach, but this time it didn’t seem romantic. I wasn’t scared for myself, but I wasn’t about to let something happen to Willie. However, we didn’t run into anyone until we neared the hotel, where we saw a few couples lounging by the lagoon. I started up the steps to the patio, and then Willie stopped.

  “Our shoes.”

  “Oh yeah.”

  I found where I’d stashed them, but we didn’t bother putting them on. We ran into the hotel and found a concierge at a counter in the lobby. He was glued to a monitor.

  “You need to call the police,” I said as we approached.

  His head jerked up. “What seems to be the problem?” he asked with a soft island accent.

  “We found a body on the beach,” Willie announced.

  “Oh dear,” the concierge said. He was young, with long, dark hair and brown eyes, but he kept his cool. “I’ll call at once.”

  He picked up a phone and dialed a number. Then he glanced at us. “Where’s the body?”

  I described the area. He nodded, then held up a hand and began talking in French, his eyes on us the whole time. The only word I understood was “Oui.” He asked us our names, and reported that, and a moment later, he hung up.

  “The police will be here soon.” He pursed his lips. “Did this person drown?”

  “I don’t think so,” I said.

  “And you two are okay?” he asked.

 

‹ Prev