“At least it’s work,” I told him. “Besides, you’ve got other cases, don’t you?”
“A few. I also do a lot of work for attorneys and the courts—you know, subpoenas and things like that. Believe me, it isn’t the most glamorous job in the world.”
I smiled. “Most jobs aren’t,” I agreed. “But as long as you like what you do, that’s what really counts, isn’t it?”
He placed the file in the cabinet, then turned around. “Absolutely,” he said. “Now how about that lunch I promised you? I’m starved.”
“Me too,” I said, then wondered where we’d go. I hadn’t seen any place to eat that was close by. And if there was a restaurant in this neighborhood, I wasn’t sure I wanted to sample the cuisine.
I followed Uncle Bob outside, my gaze instantly drawn to the tattoo shop across the street. The same two men I had seen earlier still remained.
Uncle Bob reached for his car door, when I suddenly made a suggestion. “Why don’t we take my mom’s van,” I said. “It has air conditioning.” I was pretty sure Uncle Bob’s Volkswagen didn’t have that luxury, but in truth, I was afraid to leave Mom’s van alone in this neighborhood.
Uncle Bob didn’t seem to mind. “Sounds good to me,” he said. “It will be nice to ride in style for a change.”
He directed me to a restaurant about two miles down the road called Hamburger Heaven. I parked the van between a motorcycle and a Jeep Wrangler, then killed the engine. It amazed me how much of a difference two miles could make. Several successful businesses lined the streets, a stark contrast to the area we’d just left.
“This looks like a popular place,” I said, unable to hide the relief in my voice. As I stepped out onto the street, my gaze locked onto one vacant unit just two businesses from where we were parked. While it still appeared to be small square footage, it looked as though it housed an apartment above it.
My hopes soared. “Look at that place, Uncle Bob,” I said. “I wonder if we could find the owner of that vacant unit. I’d love to get a look inside.”
Uncle Bob didn’t appear interested. “Don’t get your hopes up, honey. It’s probably pretty expensive. Most places are.”
I wasn’t about to let my uncle’s negativity keep me down. If the unit and apartment rented as a combination, I wondered how much more expensive it could be than what he was paying for his house and office space. I decided it was worth looking into.
“Let’s just go down and see if we can find a phone number,” I suggested. I didn’t wait for his response. Before he could object, I was already halfway down the sidewalk. “Look here,” I said. “There’s a phone number.” I reached into my purse and extracted a flip-top notebook and pen. “Maybe we can call from the restaurant and see if he’ll meet us here.” I jotted down the name and phone number, then stuffed the notebook back into my purse.
Uncle Bob just shrugged. “Sure,” he said. “I guess it’s worth a shot. I mean, what can it hurt to just look?”
I thought I saw longing in his eyes, but I couldn’t be sure. Maybe it was just defeat. It was becoming obvious to me that the uncle I had admired for so long wasn’t as successful as I’d always been led to believe. I wondered if that could be the reason my parents were so against me working with him. Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter to me. I knew that between the two of us, Uncle Bob and I could make a successful private eye business. Maybe if we could solve the Angelica Belmont mystery, it would put our names in the paper and drum up some business.
Then it suddenly occurred to me that I had another, more important reason for wanting to solve the mystery. If I didn’t solve it, I might not be around to help Uncle Bob with his agency.
Hamburger Heaven was a very popular place. While we waited in line to place our order, I borrowed Uncle Bob’s cell phone to call the owner of the vacant building.
“You still haven’t got another phone?” Uncle Bob asked. “I don’t like the idea that you’re unreachable at times.”
I just nodded while I punched in the number. “I’ll get it done as soon as I can,” I promised, waiting for the connection. “I’ve just been too busy the past two days.”
“Hello,” a male voice answered.
“Hello,” I replied. “I’m calling about the vacant building you have on Olive Street. My uncle and I are at Hamburger Heaven right now. Any chance we can get a look at it in the next hour?”
I bit my lower lip, waiting for his response. “Sure,” he said. “I can meet you there in about forty-five minutes.”
I glanced at Uncle Bob and smiled. “That would be great,” I answered. “We’ll meet you there.”
I disconnected, then handed Uncle Bob his phone. “Let’s eat,” I said. “We’ve got an appointment in forty-five minutes.”
Lunch was a double hamburger, fries, and a soft drink. We carried our trays to a corner booth and sat down. My vantage point provided me a clear view of the outside. Through the front window, I noticed the popularity of the area. Several businesses, including a clothing store, a used book store, and a business promising to give out quick loans, boasted promising clientele. My hopes soared with the prospect of moving Uncle Bob’s agency into a more profitable neighborhood.
I decided now was as good a time as any to bring up Angelica Belmont’s murder. Removing the paper wrap from my burger, I bit into it, savoring the delicious taste. “Umm,” I said, reaching for a drink of my soda. “This is really good.”
Uncle Bob agreed. “They are,” he said, chewing on a few fries. “I try to come by here at least once a week. It’s hard to pass up.”
I took another bite, then inhaled a deep breath before letting it out. “By any chance do you remember reading about that woman the police found in the river yesterday?” I tried to remain nonchalant, even though my pulse was racing.
Uncle Bob didn’t seem to notice anything unusual about my question. He bit into a huge bite of his burger, then chased it down with his drink.
“Yeah,” he said, swallowing hard. “I think I remember hearing something about it. She drowned, right?”
I knew I had to be careful how I answered. I needed his help, but I didn’t want him to know it yet. “That was the original thought,” I said. “That or suicide. But the autopsy showed traces of cyanide poisoning.”
Uncle Bob swallowed before chomping down another huge bite. “Why all the interest?” he asked. “Did you know her?”
His question startled me. I pushed back against the seat, contemplating my answer. I wasn’t ready to tell him about that awful day at Michael Black’s. Not until I had some evidence linking him to the murder.
I took a breath then sipped my soda before answering. “No, I didn’t know her,” I admitted, truthfully. I leaned forward conspiratorially. “But you don’t have any pressing cases right now, do you?” I already knew the answer to that, but I didn’t say anything.
He stopped chewing and raised an eyebrow. “What are you getting at?”
“I just thought it might be fun for us to investigate something together.”
“Why?”
I leaned forward and placed my elbows on the table. “Uncle Bob,” I said softly. “I know how much you love the idea of me working with you some day. This way you could teach me some of the basic investigative work without any professional involvement.” When he didn’t answer right away, I decided to take my chances and plunge ahead. “So what’s the first thing we should do?”
He swallowed hard, then started to cough as if something had lodged in his throat. Reaching for his drink, he took several sips, then put up his hands. “Now wait just a minute, young lady,” he said, his voice louder than he’d intended. He glanced around to see if anyone had heard his outburst. Apparently satisfied that no one was paying attention to our conversation, he leaned forward and whispered. “I don’t know if this would be such a good idea,” he said. “I’m sure the police have the whole thing under control by now. Besides, they don’t like it when people insert themselves into an ong
oing investigation.”
I was sure that was true. But then, they weren’t aware that I had suddenly been thrust into this investigation whether I wanted to be or not. For me, this wouldn’t actually be a routine investigation, as I’d led Uncle Bob to believe. For me, it could mean a matter of life or death.
I refused to give up. “But, Uncle Bob,” I protested, “the police won’t even know we’re doing anything.” At least not yet, I told myself. “Like I said, we’d be doing it strictly as a learning tool for me. It’s almost as if it fell right into our laps.”
What an understatement, I thought.
I knew the idea intrigued him, but his pinched face and squinted eyes revealed his doubts. And I knew just what the problem was.
“Uncle Bob,” I said, reaching over and putting my hand on his. “I promise you Mom and Dad will never know anything about this. It will be our little secret.”
Of course, I couldn’t be sure of that. Suppose we really did solve the murder of Angelica Belmont? Something like that would be all over the newspapers and television.
But on the other hand, if we didn’t solve it, and the police didn’t solve it soon, I could be the next woman the police find floating in a river.
I squeezed his hand. “Come on, Uncle Bob,” I pleaded. “Let’s work on this one as a team. Thomas and Thomas, right?” I said with a hopeful smile. “You’ve got to admit it has a nice ring to it.”
He took the last bite of his burger, wadded the paper wrapper into a ball, and tossed it onto the tray. His fingers steepled, he seemed to consider my proposal.
I decided to play my trump card. “You know, Uncle Bob, if we do end up solving this case, it could mean a lot of good publicity and new paying clients for you.”
His eyebrows raised. I knew I had him in my corner. With a wink, he lifted his drink and made a toast. “Okay,” he said. “You’ve convinced me. But I call the shots. Agreed?”
I completed the toast with a wide smile, then sipped my drink. “Agreed.”
He settled against the back of the seat and placed his arms on the table. “In that case, the first thing we should do is check out this woman’s personal life. Maybe we can find out what she did for a living. Find out who saw her last and when. Her co-workers would be a great source of information.”
Rummaging through my purse I located my notebook to take notes when I noticed the name and number for the vacant building. I realized we’d have to finish soon so we wouldn’t miss the owner.
Uncle Bob chewed another fry, then gulped the last of his drink. “By any chance did you save the newspaper clippings?”
“Of course, I did,” I answered. “The Internet is also a good source.”
He pursed his lips as if the Internet was a new tool for him. Again, I wondered how he’d managed all these years. Maybe all he needed was a little boost of confidence. With any luck, I’d be able to help with that. If I didn’t die first.
“The newspaper article sometimes names the victim’s employer,” he said. “And if we’re lucky, she was also listed in the phone book. If we get her address, we might be able to talk with some of her neighbors.”
He eased out of the booth and stood up. “I guess we’d better get down the street if we want to see that building, huh?”
I thought I noticed a renewed sense of hope in Uncle Bob. Maybe it was just my imagination. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part.
Even more than ever, I wanted Uncle Bob to help me solve the murder of Angelica Belmont. Not only for my own safety, but for his deflated ego as well.
****
“Are you thinking of opening up a business?” The owner, who had identified himself as Bob Clark, met us promptly at the vacant unit.
I glanced at Uncle Bob, but he didn’t respond, so I took the lead. “My uncle owns a private detective business,” I said. “Right now, we just wanted to look and see what’s available.”
He didn’t seem to mind that we weren’t actually shopping for a space at the moment. “Just take your time and look around,” he said. “Maybe this will be just what you’re looking for.”
He turned the key in the lock and opened the door. My breath caught in my throat. The room wasn’t much larger than the one Uncle Bob had now, but it offered so many more possibilities. One wall boasted a floor to ceiling bookcase. A few of the cabinets even had doors with locks on them.
While no furniture occupied the space, I was already picturing ways to decorate. Uncle Bob’s old desk, although weathered, would look perfect after a bit of refinishing. We could also check out garage sales for a sofa, a few coffee tables, and maybe some table lamps.
A staircase to my left caught my attention. I turned to Uncle Bob, who also seemed to be assessing the room’s possibilities. My hopes soared with enthusiasm. I hoped Uncle Bob would consider moving his business and home to this building. Maybe if we could solve the Angelica Belmont case, it would give him a reason to revamp his entire agency.
“Let’s go check out the upstairs,” I suggested.
Uncle Bob followed behind as I took the steps two at a time. A short hallway to the right ended at a wooden door. I pushed it open and swallowed hard.
“Look at this place!” I said to my uncle. I spun around noticing the hopeful smile on his face. “It’s wonderful, isn’t it?”
The apartment wasn’t large. It had less space than the house he rented now, but it was cozy and comfortable.
Uncle Bob walked into the tiny kitchen and ran his fingers along the countertop.
“You could put a few barstools here,” I said, standing on the opposite side of the counter.
I followed him into another small room. “This must be the bedroom,” I said. “It’s plenty big enough for your bed and dresser,” I told him. Off to the right I opened a door into the bathroom. “No bathtub,” I said. “Just a walk-in shower. But who takes a bath these days anyway?”
Uncle Bob nodded his approval. “It does have possibilities,” he admitted. He looked at me and smiled. “Maybe I’ll do a bit of number crunching and see what I can come up with,” he said. “Nice area too.”
I tried not to get my hopes up, but it wasn’t easy. I knew I could help my uncle build up a money-making practice. And what better place to start than with Angelica Belmont’s murder? Especially when solving that crime might also save my own life.
Uncle Bob led the way downstairs and thanked the owner for allowing us to look around.
“Not a problem,” he said. “Just call if you need anything else.”
Uncle Bob turned to me. “Now it’s time for me to do a little detective work of my own,” he said, reaching for my hand. “We can talk more about this when I get home this evening. In the meantime, you can go back to the house and see what information you can dig up.”
We walked to the door, my heart beating wildly with excitement. “I’ll do that, Uncle Bob,” I said. “But once I drop you off at your office, I’m going by the grocery store. I want to prepare you a home-cooked meal tonight. It’s the least I can do. So bring home an appetite.”
He squeezed my shoulders. “Ah, you don’t have to do that,” he said. “I can always throw something together for us.”
My stomach suddenly lurched at the thought of my uncle’s cooking. “Oh, but I want to,” I responded quickly. “It will help keep me occupied until you get home.”
Besides, it will also keep me busy while I wait for Justin’s call, I thought. Hopefully, he’ll have some useful information to share.
Chapter Seven
I’d purposely omitted Justin’s name from the conversation during my lunch with Uncle Bob. It would have been difficult to explain why Justin was already asking questions about the death of Angelica Belmont without arousing suspicion. And I didn’t want to take a chance that Justin might let it slip out. For now, Uncle Bob knew everything he needed to know.
After seeing the vacant building and loft apartment after lunch, my hopes had soared to a new expectation. For the first ti
me in a long time, the prospect of working with my uncle seemed like a genuine possibility.
Back at his house, I placed the groceries on the counter, then called Justin’s cell. While I was aware that he might still be out scouring the neighborhood for information, I couldn’t wait to find out if he’d learned anything useful so far. What I really wanted to do was drive over there myself, but we’d already agreed I should try to stay away from the area as much as possible for now. Working at the diner was one thing: not only did I need the meager income, but I didn’t want any major change in my daily schedule to alert Michael Black that we were onto him. But staying at my parents’ house was different. Staying there alone, I’d be a sitting duck.
No one answered Justin’s cell, so I left a message for him to call me back as soon as possible. I’d just clicked the disconnect button, when the phone rang.
“Justin?” I said before giving the caller a chance to speak.
There was a long pause before anyone responded. “Denise? Are you okay?”
Mom, I realized. I’d been so sure it was Justin calling me with the information he’d discovered today. “Hi, Mom,” I said, hoping my disappointment didn’t show.
“Denise,” she said again. “What’s going on? Why are you at your uncle’s house? Has something happened?”
I realized I probably should have called my parents and told them what I was planning. But at the time, the only thing on my mind was getting to safety.
“Nothing’s wrong, Mom,” I said. “I just thought I’d come here and fix Uncle Bob a home-cooked meal for a change.” It wasn’t a complete lie, I rationalized. To further convince myself I hadn’t told an untruth, I held the phone between my ear and shoulder, while I located a cutting board and placed it on the counter.
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