Tracking A Shadow: A Jarvis Mann Detective Novel

by R Weir

  “So, are you keeping crime at bay?” I asked.

  “Hardly,” he smirked. “What about you?”

  “Doing my small part and getting rich because of it,” I said sarcastically.

  “I can see that by that piece of shit Mustang you’re still driving.”

  “I prefer the term classic. Same one that Steve McQueen drove in Bullet.”

  “His was black, while yours is yellow with black stripes. Besides you aren’t Steve McQueen.”

  “Then why do women call out his name when having sex with me?”

  “Probably thinking of him while screwing you. Only way to get them through the process.”

  I had to smile at that one. “Better them screwing me and thinking of him than the other way around!”

  Bill chuckled, which was saying a lot, since he rarely smiled. He had finished his beer and signaled the bartender for another.

  “Your client’s money good this time?” he asked. He knew of my past issues with clients not paying up afterwards.

  “Her check didn’t bounce, which is always a good sign. She seems on the up and up. Were you able to find out anything?”

  “She came in Friday night. The place was crazy busy. A junior officer talked with her and thought she was a little pushy. She didn’t have any specifics, just a man stalking her and wanted protection. Couldn’t do much, only so many hours in the day and this wasn’t a priority. He mentioned he could see about someone rolling through her block in the mornings and evenings, but that wasn’t good enough for her. He suggested hiring private help, as we didn’t have the manpower. She left perturbed, from what he recalled, and he filed a basic report so we had a record in case a crime was later committed. Other than that…”

  “That’s what I figured. I needed to confirm. I intend to do what I can, but you’re aware if someone wants to do something it’s hard to stop. What about the two names I gave you, Rickie Ward and Mark Remington?”

  “On Remington, all we had were the two arrests for the stalking of his ex-wife. Never had even a parking ticket before or after that. As for Ward, we had a couple of them come up with records. Where does yours live these days?”

  “Greenwood Village. Works for a company called Consulting for All?”

  “OK, that fits a guy that had a couple of complaints for sexual harassment and one for statutory rape. The rape was with a girl who was seventeen and was filed by the parents. It seemed she was willing and met him online, but they wanted to make a federal case out of it. The DA didn’t bring charges, since there wasn’t any evidence other than what the parents said. Seems like a skirt chaser and a-hole. He must chase them young.”

  “Yes, that would be him. But he likes them at all ages, since he pursued my client while he worked with her.”

  A patron stopped to say hi to Bill and moved off to join some friends. A text came in from Emily saying she was headed home. I finished my drink and paid the tab.

  “Good to see you, Bill,” I said as I shook his hand. “And thanks again for the info. Beers aren’t payment enough, so if you’re ever in need of anything, tell me.” I was sincere in my offer, as I knew he had issues at home with a son that he might need assistance with some day. I hoped to return the favor in a more substantial way.

  Chapter 5

  The night and next morning was a bust, as no one appeared to be hanging around watching Emily at home. No strange phone calls or anyone following her as of yet. I hoped I wasn’t wasting my time, but at least the pay was good. While on lookout duty I had called Melissa at the personal number she had written on her business card. I talked with her for about twenty minutes, and we seemed to hit it off over the phone. We agreed to meet for lunch Wednesday at her office, as she didn’t have to be in court that day. We could walk around downtown and see the sights and get to know each other better. It would be the first date I’d had in a while, and I was looking forward to it.

  Today the agenda was tracking down and talking with the possible suspects—Rickie Ward being the first—as well as stopping by Emily’s office to talk with her assistant, Jeanine. Rickie worked over in Greenwood Village, so no light rail ride today. I called first, and they told me he would be in and asked if I wanted to make an appointment. I didn’t want him expecting me, so I said no. It was best to drop in unannounced.

  The weather was a little cooler and even had a bit of cloud cover. Rain would be beneficial, as wildfires had been popping up all over the state because it had been so dry this year. I had the windows down and enjoyed the fresh breeze in my car with just a hint of smoke from the fires. The traffic as usual was heavy. There were seemingly cars everywhere, which was normal, as all of us were trying to make our way in the gridlock maze that was the Denver roadway. I followed the path I’d laid out in my head until I reached County Line Road. I pulled into the parking lot of the place where Rickie worked. Consultants for All was an odd name, which I guessed meant they could handle any consulting need. They seemed to have the whole fifth floor of the six-story building to themselves, as most of the rest of the space was vacant. I walked in and asked to meet with him.

  “Do you have an appointment?” questioned the receptionist, who was an older lady with glasses hanging from a lanyard around her neck.

  “I don’t but I was told he was in. I’m willing to wait.”

  “Can I tell him who you are and what this is about?”

  “I’m from Reliable Consulting. I’m sure he’ll want to talk with me.”

  She grabbed her glasses, swept her gray hair to one side and held them in front of her eyes while she dialed the extension. She spoke softly into the phone and gave Rickie the info, even having to repeat it, like he didn’t believe what he heard. She put down the handset and told me he’d be out in a few minutes.

  Compared to the lobby at Bristol & Bristol, this one was definitely lower class. Just a couple of comfortless chairs, worn carpeting, walls in need of new paint and a musty smell to the whole office. Even the magazine selection sucked. No Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue for me to review to see if I’d missed any cleavage the first time around. I was severely disappointed.

  Out walked Rickie with a cocky stride. He looked exactly like his Facebook picture, right down to the shirt unbuttoned almost to his navel and the chain with cross draping his neck. “What can I help you with?” he asked. “You said it had to do with Reliable Consulting.”

  “May we talk in your office,” I replied. “It’s of a personal nature.”

  He seemed hesitant but finally led me back down the hall, an annoying bounce to his step that he probably thought was cool and sexy. The office was small, with a simple brown desk, notebook computer on top, stained coffee cup and a black phone with more buttons than a small operation like this would need. Behind the desk was a bookshelf that contained no books. Only pictures, all appearing to be of him doing various things: dancing, fishing, bike riding and even one of him just posing, like it was for a bio photo. Seemed he liked looking at himself, and no one else appeared in any of the pictures, other than a couple of limbs that had wandered into view and had been cropped from the shot.

  “Are you with Reliable?” he inquired while sitting down. “I don’t remember you from when I worked there.”

  “No, I’m here to ask you some questions.” I pulled out my business card and showed it to him. It was a glossy design with raised lettering, and elegant. Classy for a classy P.I., I told myself when they were ordered. I figured his would have his picture on it showing lots of chest hair. “I’m working on a case, and it’s come to my attention you once dated Emily White.”

  He sat back in his chair and put his feet up on the table. “Yeah, I went out with her. She was a hottie. Why are you asking? Did something happen to her?”

  I already didn’t like the guy. People who put their feet up on a desk when in a meeting usually had no class. I hoped he was the one. I’d love to kick him in the ass or, even better, in the balls.

  “Not yet. But someone has been h
arassing her, and I’m trying to find out who it is. You fit the profile.”

  He had a smirk across his mug. “Why, did she say it was me? Did she give you a reason to suspect me?”

  “Yeah, she did. Said she went out with you once and thought you were an ass and wouldn’t leave her alone. She finally had to tell you to quit calling her. You seemed like a good place to start.”

  The smirk grew larger. Now I really wanted to slap him silly. I resisted for now.

  “Man, what a trip,” he laughed. “That woman is something else. You got it all wrong, man, she pursued me and practically begged me to take her out. So I go out with her and give her the best screw of her life, and she tells you this shit. I just can’t believe it. I was the one to tell her to lay off and quit bugging me. I’m not going to be tied down to any one woman. I get too much tail to stick with one piece of ass! But, oh how fabulous she was. There was nothing she didn’t like to do in bed. I gave it to her every way she wanted it, and still it wasn’t enough. I almost, and I repeat almost, couldn’t keep up with her.”

  “Why should I believe you?” I asked.

  “Look at me, man. I’m what the women want. I get them off, and she got off big time as did I, and several times.” He pursed his lips and made a sucking sound.

  I didn’t buy it. He was too cocky. Why any woman would want to go out with him was beyond me. Maybe with enough drinks anyone would sleep with anyone. Probably why he never made it past one night, as once they sobered up they knew he wasn’t worth their time.

  I leaned forward, and slapped his feet off of the desk and stared him straight in the eye. “I don’t believe you. So get this through your cocky skull, you are number one on my list of suspects and if I see you anywhere near her, I’ll have you kissing pavement. Any other thoughts of stalking her enter your puny brain, move on or you’ll get hurt.”

  He still was smiling and threw his hands out like “so what.” “Anytime, my friend. I’ll be ready. But I think you should leave before I call the cops. I got work to do. I’m a busy man.”

  “Yes, I can tell by the crush of clients sitting in your waiting room!” I said sarcastically.

  He eyeballed me some more and just waved me off. “Shoo, fly,” was all he said.

  I glared at him for a long time, but figured there was little else to do. “You’ve been warned,” I told him and walked out.

  On the way out I commented to the receptionist, “I don’t know how you can work for him.”

  She waved me over and whispered in my ear.

  “He’s a whole lot worse if you are young, wear a skirt and have a vagina,” she stated with a broad smile.

  Chapter 6

  I wasn’t happy I lost my cool, but I’d get over it. It felt good to get the blood a-pumping. Adrenaline is a wonderful thing when used properly. My next stop was at Reliable Consulting. I called Emily and made sure her assistant was available. I arrived and found an open visitor-parking space at the building, so my good fortune was holding up. I headed up to the third floor, deciding to take the stairs to run off some of this anger energy. Probably I would rough up the female assistant of Emily’s in my current state.

  Once inside, I went past the front desk and was at Emily’s office. She was dressed professionally, with a pleated knee-length dark-blue skirt and white blouse. She smiled warmly when she saw me and walked me to the next door. Her assistant also had an office, as did everyone in Reliable Consulting. Not a cubicle in sight. Theirs weren’t as large, but having four walls and a door was pretty classy. Probably a great place to work.

  “Jeanine,” she said as we walked in. “This is Jarvis Mann, the detective I mentioned. He would like to ask you some questions about Mark and Rickie. Please feel free to answer him truthfully.”

  I looked at the time; it was almost 11:30. “Actually, I can take you to lunch if it’s not too early for you. I’m sure there is something good to eat around here. It will be on Emily’s nickel, so you can’t turn me down.” I turned to Emily and grinned.

  “If it’s OK with Emily, that would be wonderful,” she answered. “Just give me about fifteen minutes to finish up a few things. We can walk across the street. There is a perfect place for lunch to sit and talk outside.”

  When she finished her work we left the building and found an outside table in the shade, thanks to a large umbrella. Jeanine was probably in her mid-forties, slender build and a couple inches shorter than me. She wore a business outfit: pleated black slacks, a pink ruffled blouse with midsized white heels. Blowing seductively in the air, her long wavy auburn hair ran down to the middle of her back. She had a big diamond ring on her left hand that signaled she was married. She was attractive, and as I talked with her I could tell her personality matched up well with Emily’s.

  “So, how long have you worked for Emily?” I asked.

  A young waitress was prompt bringing menus and asking for drink orders. Jeanine had iced tea, while I decided on Sprite.

  “Going on ten years now,” she replied. “She’s a wonderful person to work with. I don’t even think of her as my boss anymore. I think of her as a friend and not a boss. She’s groomed me to be almost an equal. We are a team in the truest sense.”

  “Did you know her ex-husband?”

  “Somewhat. We socialized a little—me, my husband and them. Work gatherings, like summer picnics and Christmas dinners. Went to a movie together, I think a couple of times. When things starting falling apart for her it of course stopped.”

  The waitress returned with the drinks, and we placed our orders. Jeanine requested just a plain salad with no tomatoes and creamy dressing, while I ordered a Monte Cristo on wheat. One can only eat so many burgers.

  “Was your husband friends with Mark?” I asked after taking a long drink of soda. “Were they friendly beyond the work stuff? Ever hang out together.”

  “No, not at all. It’s not that my husband didn’t like Mark; they just didn’t pal around any. The link was always Emily and me.” She finished up her tea, and I flagged down the waitress to bring her some more.

  “So when did you find out that Mark and Emily had problems?”

  “Well it wasn’t long after the marriage.” She stopped a minute and tried to come up with an exact time. “It was maybe two or three years after they married. She confided in me that things weren’t going well. That he was smothering her and had been for a while. The only relief was when she was at work. Otherwise he seemed to want to control everything she did and was jealous of anyone she was close to, including me.”

  The waitress brought us our plates. The sandwich was excellent, with moist turkey, ham and melted cheese. I’d have to remember this place when in the neighborhood.

  “The food here is excellent!” Jeanine commented as if reading my mind. “I have lunch here a couple times a week.”

  I had already eaten half the sandwich. Slow down, I told myself. Don’t look like a pig in front of the lady.

  “Did you ever witness any of this behavior yourself? Or was it strictly what Emily told you?”

  Jeanine took a couple of bites of salad. She was a slower eater than I was, though most women were. “Not at first. It was mostly what she told me. After she left him I saw a little more of it. But there was no reason I wouldn’t believe her.”

  “Who else did he accuse her of having an affair with?”

  “Everyone, even me. He did with anyone she had any related contact with. It was kind of scary. So she finally got up the nerve to move out one day without even telling him. It was brave, because she couldn’t be certain how he’d react to it all. He kept coming here looking for her, but she took some extended leave, almost a month. We wouldn’t tell him where she was.”

  “What was everyone’s attitude about her taking that much time off and having to deal with her husband? Did it hurt morale?”

  “Not at all. Everyone does like her and, besides, she is the boss, the owner. She can do what she wants.”

  “So she is the outright ow
ner of Reliable Consulting?” I inquired. “She mentioned she was a shareholder but not the owner.”

  “She owns most of it, more than 50 percent. She sold off some of the shares to a couple of people that work here. So I’d guess she is a co-owner now. She started the business and built it to where it is today. I think she needed to sell off part of it to raise cash to get away from Mark. It takes money to buy a place of your own, pay for lawyers to defend you.”

  A leggy lady with a short skirt walked by us attempting to keep the wind from lifting her skirt but failed. I tried not to look too long but got a glimpse of her pink lace panties as my maleness took over.

  “So do you think Mark could be stalking her again?” I said, pulling my attention back to Jeanine.

  “Certainly possible. I wouldn’t put it past him. He was persistent, calling the office, stopping by every week or so trying to find her. He never was violent or rude about it; he just wanted to get answers. We all played dumb and said we didn’t know anything. He called me a lot but I flat-out told him I wasn’t about to tell him. My husband even had to threaten him to quit calling me or he was going to come over and break his nose. That seemed to work for a while.”

  “And what about Rickie Ward?” I said, shifting gears.

  “That he was a pig that should have never been hired. How he lasted here for sixteen months is beyond me. Not sure why he even got in the door. He must have given a superlative interview, because shortly after starting he became an ass. He could bring in some business, especially with the good-old-boys’ companies, but the women here hated him. He was always coming on to them, trying to get them to sleep with him. Even the married ones. He tried with me a couple of times, and I just ignored him. I did my best not to have any business with him. No female at work would travel with him for fear he would get them drunk and then rape them.”