I yawned loudly. "I'll email them to you tomorrow morning. There's nothing we can do tonight anyway."
Joe agreed but said he wanted them first thing because he was going to watch Beidemeyer the next morning.
Zelda frowned. "Why? It's obvious he's not having an affair. So Mrs. Got-Bucks will have to pay the shit alimony. Boo-hoo."
Joe shook his head. "Nothing's obvious, Miss Zelda. Except he did something we didn't expect. And you ain't off the hook for tomorrow night, neither."
It was official — the weekend was shot.
Chapter Four
When we got home, our mutt Boomer was so happy to see us that he did his welcome home twirly dance. Zelda ignored Boomer, went to her room, and closed the door. She must've had sexting plans with Eric because she didn't even grab a snack from the kitchen first.
Ted texted me to say he was on his way. I smirked at Boomer. "Can you say bootie call?" Boomer let out a doggie sigh in response and retreated to his bed in the kitchen. "Men! You're all alike."
While waiting for Ted, I uploaded the pictures and emailed them to Joe. I didn't bother scrolling through them because my mind was on Ted's unexpected park appearance more than on Beidemeyer. And there was no rush since we'd be watching him again the next night. There'd be plenty of time to study the photos in the morning.
A light knuckle rap at my door announced Ted’s arrival. I opened the door and there he stood — tall, handsome, and exuding that freshly showered man smell that made my insides squirm. Dressed in a black tee shirt and jeans that hugged in all the right places, the sight of him made me want to jump him.
"Hi baby." We kissed long and slow. He whispered into my hair. "I want you." He swept me up in his arms and closed the door with his foot. "And I want you now."
I wriggled in his arms. "Hey put me down."
He wiggled his eyebrows. "I will when we get to the bedroom."
I squirmed in his arms. "I said, put me down."
Ted pouted and set me back on my feet. "What's the matter?"
I backed up and sat on the arm of the easy chair. "What were you doing in the park tonight?"
He jerked back his head. "How did you know I was at the park?"
I crossed my arms over my chest. "Never underestimate the skills of a budding private investigator."
He looked confused and defensive. "I thought you were following a philandering husband tonight. Not me."
I held up my hands. “Take it easy. I wasn’t following you, but our target led us to Sunland Park. And when we were following him out of the park, I saw you there. On the sidewalk."
Ted nodded and grinned. "Oh that." He squatted down next to the chair and ran his hand up my calf. "What's the matter, honey, were you worried?" I looked away and chewed on my lip. Ted chuckled. "Oh, you were worried."
I pushed his hand away. "You and Zelda both take such pleasure in pushing my buttons." I sighed. "Will you answer the question so I can stop worrying?"
He shrugged. "Simple. Mike called me and said he needed help."
I furrowed my brow. "Who's Mike?"
Ted tugged on my hair playfully. "Mean Mike? Your buddy? From the park?"
I frowned. "What? How did he call you? What did he want?"
Ted shrugged. "He always calls me. He has a cell."
That was news to me. "What did he want?"
"His buddy is missing and he wanted help looking for him." He puffed up his chest a little. "I do have a rep for recon or have you forgotten?"
I jumped to my feet. "Ron's still missing?"
Ted frowned. "If you knew about Ron, then what's the worry all about?"
I explained to Ted about Ron's sudden disappearance from the park that afternoon. And that I'd assumed Ron turned up again. Those guys were always disappearing and then reappearing like ghosts. "Why is Mike so worried? Ron's only been gone a few hours." I cocked my head. "And since when are you and Mean Mike buddies?"
Ted wrinkled his nose, realizing he wasn't going to sweep me into the bedroom before he explained. He plopped into the easy chair and pulled me into his lap. "Mike gets sketchy on the details. But he’s convinced a bad guy is following Ron. Or maybe grabbed him."
I pushed the hair out Ted’s eyes. “You mean the bad guy that Ron is always talking about? Isn’t that more about his PTSD and brain damage?"
Ted wrapped his long arms around me and nuzzled my neck. "Probably. But maybe not."
I rested my chin on his head. "Mike calls you all the time?"
Ted looked up at me. "He's a brother. He has my number. He calls me."
Ted is a vet and served two tours in Afghanistan and one in Iraq. To him, all vets are his brothers. It was Ted who suggested Zelda and I bring the leftover pies to the park on Fridays. Until then, I didn’t know it was because he had a personal connection to Mike. And I wondered how anyone could have a personal connection to Mike given his reluctance to speak in full sentences.
"Scotti?"
"Yeah?"
He stroked my thigh. "Can we go to bed now?"
I opened my eyes realizing I'd nodded off into my own mental playground. I lifted my head and looked into his deep green eyes. "Did you see the man who was questioning the guys?" Too distracted by Ted's fondling, I moved out of his lap and sat cross-legged on the floor. "Tonight? Were you there then?"
Ted rolled out of the chair, lay on the floor, and put his head in my lap. He traced a finger along the inside of my thigh. "What man?"
I nudged Ted out of my lap. "Honey, you need to pay better attention. Beidemeyer — the guy Zelda and I were tailing for Joe. He led us to the park, and we saw him huddled with the guys. Looked like he gave Mike money or something."
Ted rolled over on his back and looked up at me. "Must have missed it. I went up to the doughnut place, 711, and behind the thrift store to look for Ron. I didn't see anybody at all. When I got back to the park, Mike was by himself and packing up."
I twisted my lips. "Did Mike say anything?"
Ted reached up and played with a lock of my hair. "Just that they hadn't found Ron." He chuckled, "Oh and that he ate Ron's pie and not to tell you. I offered to buy him a burger and give him a ride but he said he was cool. We walked to my car and then he headed east on Foothill."
Mike never turned down food or a ride. Something had him rattled. Scooting away from Ted's probing hands, I got to my feet. The coincidences bothered me. Ron's disappearance, Beidemeyer’s impromptu meeting at the park, the lack of a mistress. Nothing was making sense. Thinking always made me hungry, and my stomach growled. I started for the kitchen. "Feel like a snack?" Ted tackled me and pulled me to the floor and I laughed. "Hey!"
"Hey." He rolled over on top of me and whispered a proposition into my ear.
I swatted at him half-heartedly. "I'm trying to have a conversation, here."
He pressed his body against mine and said, "Conversation is overrated."
I hooked my foot around his leg and flipped him over so I was on top. "Oh really?"
Ted wrapped his arms around my waist. "Oh yeah, baby. Dominate me."
I teased him with my lips. "I stink. I need a shower."
"You smell sexy." His tongue explored my neck. "Besides, you offered me a snack."
I rolled off him and sprung to my feet. Offering him a hand up I said, "Now you want a snack?"
He put his arm around my shoulders. "Yeah, I could use a snack."
I sighed. "Okay. What do you want?"
He laughed like a naughty school boy and scooped me up. "Something hot and dirty."
"You mean like Cajun dirty rice and beans?"
He nudged my bedroom door open with his hip. "No, more like you naked on a plate."
I giggled. "I don't have any plates that big."
He closed the door with his foot and tossed me on the bed. "We'll improvise."
Chapter Five
I woke up in an empty bed. Ted left a note and a rose on his pillow. Early run and he'd call me later. Oh and he loved me so I should
stop worrying. I rolled out of bed, left the note on the bedside table, and carried the rose to the living room.
Hushed voices came from the kitchen and I picked up my pace, hoping Ted was still there. Instead, I found Zelda hunched at the butcher-block with a cup of coffee in front of her and a cell phone to her ear. "Okay, talk to you later." She ended the call and put the cell down on the counter. She smirked. "Up late?"
I put my flower in a glass of water, then poured myself a cup of coffee. I carried my flower and coffee to the butcher-block and sat on a stool. Admiring my rose, I placed it in the center of the butcher-block. "Morning."
Zelda eyed the rose. "Told you."
I waved a hand at her. "Shut up."
"What was he doing at the park?"
"Who were you talking to?"
Zelda refilled her coffee and grabbed a banana from the hanging basket next to the sink. "Eric. He's futzing with the pictures you sent last night. Said a lot of them sucked."
I sipped coffee and my stomach growled. "Did any of them turn out?"
Zelda nodded and poured cream into her coffee. "Yeah, we can look at them later at Joe's. He's already sitting on Beidemeyer."
I repeated the conversation I had with Ted the night before about Mike.
Zelda frowned. "Ted doesn't know who Beidemeyer is either?"
I stretched and yawned. "He doesn't recognize the name. Probably just a weird coincidence."
Zelda finished her coffee and wandered off to take a shower. I fired up the laptop to look at the pictures from the night before. Though we got a few good shots at the restaurant and the parking lot, most of the exterior park shots sucked. Even in the decent shots, there was nothing particularly telling about them except for the intense and perturbed expression on Beidemeyer's face.
Was Beidemeyer's odd behavior about an affair or something more serious? He was clearly looking for someone or something. And I suspected his buddy was in on the hunt too. It could've been his mistress. Maybe she left him, moved, and changed her number. That happens a lot. Women who date married men can only take it so long before the guilt and empty promises wear them down.
But it didn't make sense that Beidemeyer would enlist a friend in the search for his mistress. Not the sort of favor you ask a friend, is it? Something had him on edge. Something bad enough that he was driven to a park on the other side of town, asking for information from unpredictable and possibly dangerous people. And what would Mean Mike and his band of rag-tag soldiers know about Beidemeyer's mistress, anyway?
Beidemeyer had the money to hire a private detective, why conduct the search himself? There was something about the situation that he wanted to keep close to the vest. Something dangerous?
"What are you thinking about?" Zelda stood in front of me with a weird expression. "Scotti?"
"What?"
"You were pretty deep in thought there partner." She giggled. "Reliving last night?" She groaned and rotated her hips. "Teddy boy strikes again, eh?"
I scoffed. "Last night, yes. Ted, no." I told her what I thought about Beidemeyer's actions.
Zelda thought about it and said, "I hope you're right."
I whipped back my head. "You do?"
Zelda grinned. "Hell yeah. If you are, then we won't have to sit on Beidemeyer tonight."
I laughed and shook my head. "Don't count on it. Joe wants this gig, and he'll milk it for all he can before he calls it off."
Zelda's expression soured, then she clapped her hands. "Chop chop, partner. Take a shower and let's get some breakfast."
I slid off the stool and headed for the bathroom. "Food first, then the park. I have a few questions for Mike."
Chapter Six
Nothing like stacks of waffles and pancakes to get Zelda's engine going. It astounded me how much the girl could eat without gaining an ounce. Probably still suffering a calorie deficit from our foster days. Zelda slathered hers in whipped crème and berry compote — I went the classic butter and warm syrup route. By the end of the meal, Zelda was ready for a nap, but I was anxious to get to the park.
On a bright Saturday morning, the park should’ve been hopping, but aside from a bad Little League match-up, nothing was happening. We stood under Ron’s favorite pine tree and scanned the area. "Where the hell is everybody?"
We drove to the Methodist church in Tujunga that offered free meals to the poor and homeless, but found a father-son pancake breakfast fundraiser in progress. Likewise, we checked the three other churches in the area that offered food and help to the homeless and likewise found none of the guys. We searched the area top to bottom and came up empty. They'd vanished like the ghost vapor they seemed to be, and I didn’t have the magic trick that would make them reappear. All I could do was hope they’d found Ron and things would return to normal. Whatever that was.
On the way back to the house, Zelda called Joe for a status report. Aside from an early morning doughnut run, Beidemeyer had stayed put.
Zelda was still hopeful she could salvage her weekend. "Looks like this is a bust then, huh?"
Joe cackled like an old church lady. "Not yet, Miss Zelda. The day is young and he could be resting up for tonight."
Zelda made faces at the phone and I laughed. "We'll relieve you around five?"
"I'd appreciate it."
Zelda clicked off the call and sighed like her life was over.
I smacked her on the arm. "Quit your bitching. We're in this for the long haul. Joe's not going to blow it off and neither should we."
Zelda let her head fall back against the headrest and closed her eyes. "Please enlighten me partner, why shouldn't we want to blow this off?"
I hooked a left onto Hillcrest. "Because there's a connection."
Zelda opened her eyes and lolled her head toward me. "A connection to what?"
I idled in front of our gate and waited for it to chug open. "To Ron. Why doesn’t anybody listen to me?" I pulled through the open gate and parked next to the food truck at the back wall. I switched off the ignition and turned to Zelda. "Don't you see it?"
Zelda got out of the car and slammed the door shut. "What does Ron have to do with anything?"
I followed her into the house. "I don't know, but it's something. This is too much of a coincidence. Ron disappears, and later that day the guy we're tailing leads us to the park where he questions Ron's friends? And now all of them are missing? You don't see a connection?"
Zelda bunched her shoulders in a shrug. "Shit happens." She wandered into the kitchen. "Boomer?"
I followed Zelda into the kitchen. Boomer leapt into her arms and slathered her with welcome home kisses. "Yes, you like it when Auntie Zee tastes like waffles, don't you little boy?"
I went to the nook that served as my office, sat at my desk, and dropped my bag to the floor. "Well, if you ask me, it's pretty coincidental shit."
Zelda flapped a hand at me and said, "Blah, blah." She set Boomer down on the floor and poked in the cabinets. "I need cookies."
Boomer ran to me and jumped into my lap. Working around the dog, I fired up the laptop and started an Internet search.
Zelda grabbed the cookie jar and carried it to my desk. She munched over my shoulder. "What are you doing? This is our afternoon off."
I frowned at the search results — lots of Carl Beidemeyers. "Checking out Beidemeyer." I clicked on the image results, hoping that our Beidemeyer had a picture posted somewhere in the vastness of cyberspace. Halfway down the page of images I found him. The link led me to a military blog page that highlighted Iraq war veterans. I glanced back at Zelda. "Still think shit just happens?"
Zelda leaned in and read the bio posted beneath the smiling picture of Beidemeyer. The uniform and the formal pose made him look like a poster boy for patriotism — I could see how a woman might swoon over him.
Zelda stepped back hunched a shoulder. "Okay, so he was in Iraq. So were thousands of other guys. Including Ted. It doesn't mean he knew Ron." She sighed and shook her head. "Why don't you turn that
thing off and call Ted. I'm sure he'd be happy to swing by for a quickie."
I arched an eyebrow at her. "Ted and I don't do quickies."
She gaped. "No shit?"
I sighed and went back to my Internet search. I noted the name of Beidemeyer's unit, when he served and where. I tapped the screen. "What about this? He's involved in a program that helps vets assimilate back into civilian life."
Zelda rolled her eyes. "Something evil about that? I think they call it giving back. Ever heard of it?"
M.urder R.eady to E.at (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 2) Page 3
