He jerked his thumb at a charming old white clapboard building. “He’s in there. Act nonchalant.”
“Who?” Jane did not follow as Brad began his walk toward the building.
He stopped, stared at her, and shook his head. Then he walked on.
He couldn’t mean Kyle. There was no way he was just…hanging out here.
She snapped several more pictures of her location, and one of Brad and his car license plate, only this time she used Instagram. She wasn’t interested in being discreet. She was interested in being found if he tied her up and locked her in Devon’s office.
She sighed. Her jokes weren’t funny and they weren’t covering her fear very well. When Jake joked around, it always helped.
Jane ran to catch up with Brad. The feeling that she was running to her death made her breath catch in her chest, but she forged ahead. If she found Kyle here, alive, she would have done one solid thing to help Maggie in her time of crisis, and that was worth the risk.
Brad led her into the old building and down a long, dark corridor lined with doors. Two were opened.
Jane forced a smile onto her lips, and waved as she passed, catching the eye of a girl about her age with long dirty blonde hair in one office, and an older man with a scruffy beard in another. He looked annoyed, but she was glad he noticed her.
A single rectangular fluorescent light flickered dully on the ceiling, casting its bluish glow in the center of the hall, but not to the ends. Most of the doors didn’t have business name plaques on them. The hall felt desolate like an abandoned school.
They turned a corner. This new hall was unlit, and very quiet.
Brad led her to a door at the far end of the hall. She had counted fifteen doors between herself and the turn they had taken. The door they stopped at had an extra deadbolt. Brad stared at it, and then spoke in a low voice. “The night of the wedding rehearsal, I was supposed to interview Devon. He said he scheduled it for during the dinner because he hated big crowds and wanted a reason to leave early. We were supposed to meet here, at his office.”
“Did you?”
“We planned to meet at eight p.m.” Brad shivered.
“And was Devon here?”
“I parked around the side of the building. I was about fifteen minutes early, so I stayed in my car to get my notes in order. I wanted to ask him about his feelings regarding the test on his device. Had the test of play been fair, considering the quality of the game that was used? That kind of thing.” He hesitated
“What happened next?” Jane backed away a little, wanting to draw him out, but wanting to be able to make a quick escape.
“This office has a window facing the woods.”
“The woods where they found Devon’s body?” Jane shivered.
“Yeah. And while I sat in my car, someone climbed out the window.”
“Ayla said his windows were nailed shut.”
“I had heard that rumor, too. So I thought at first maybe it was the wrong window. It wasn’t dark, but the person was in the shadow, and had a hoodie on, hood up.”
“Did you call the police?”
“I thought about it. But the person was gone too fast. And I don’t know, it could have been anything.”
“Not usually.” Jane stared at the door as well. Why had they had to come here to tell the story? It didn’t add up. “People who climb out windows are trying to escape unnoticed.”
“He didn’t. I noticed. But I couldn’t tell who it was.”
“And then what happened?” Jane gripped her phone. There was nothing to report, nothing to record, so far.
Brad’s eyes were glued to the impassive door.
“I waited a couple more minutes and went in. I came back here, to the office. I double checked the suite number and all of that, and then I was sure whoever had escaped had left this office. I knocked on the door and got no answer.”
“Why are we here, Brad?”
Brad swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “We’re here to find Kyle. He’s in there.”
“How do you know?”
“When no one answered my knock, I tried calling. Kyle answered.”
“Devon’s cell?”
“No, his office number.”
“Okay…” Jane’s heart skipped a beat. This was something worth hearing. “What did he say?”
“Kyle and I are in the same line of work. We know each other. I recognized his voice.”
“But what did he say?”
“He said, ‘This is Devon.’ I said, ‘No it’s not. What’s going on?’ and Kyle hung up.”
“But it’s been two weeks. Why do you think he’s still in there?”
“Because he just disappeared. He came into that office and no one has seen him since. And afterwards, after they found Devon’s body, no one around here reported seeing anyone leave the office that night.”
Jane leaned against the wall opposite of Devon’s door. “But I’m sure the cops have been in already. They would know if he was in there…” She didn’t add that if he was dead they’d be able to smell him all the way in the hall.
“No, he’s there. I know he is. He has to be. If the cops searched it, then they’re in on it together.” Brad paced back and forth, fidgety steps, his arms jerking restlessly by his sides. “He’s in there.”
Paranoid. Brad was a paranoid mess. “And how are we getting in?”
“That’s why I brought you.” He turned to face her. “You’re a PI. You must know how to pick locks.”
Jane laughed, one single burst of pent up anxiety. “I don’t. And I wouldn’t if I could.”
He thrust himself forward, his fingers grasping for her shoulders.
She was pinned against the wall, but she twisted, sliding down, and then back up.
His wild hands caught hold of her purse strap and pulled it, dragging her from the wall.
She lunged and leaned forward, slipping out of her strap. She crouched, panting, not sure if she should run, or grab the bag with her car keys first.
He shook her purse dumped it, her lip gloss, hair brush, wallet, loose change, and tiny bottle of mace fell to the ground. Her keys slapped her in the face as they dropped. With one swift motion she grabbed her mace.
Brad was focused on the bag and didn’t seem to notice her at all.
She stayed low, and clutched the mace to her chest.
He kicked her wallet down the hall. “Where is it?” He shook the bag.
She snagged her keys and shoved them in her pocket.
“We have to get in there. Kyle is in there. He must have stabbed Devon. Devon fled and died of his wounds. We can’t let him get away with it.” Brad’s eyes were wild, he turned the fabric purse inside out and then threw it across the hall, hitting the door with a thud. “Unlock that door.” He grabbed Jane by the elbow and pulled her to her feet.
She turned her head away from him, closed her eyes, and sprayed mace in the general direction of Brad’s face. “Help!” Her scream was pretty good, probably because she had been holding it in for so long.
“What are you doing?” Brad screamed and kicked wildly, landing one on Jane’s knee.
Jane curled in a ball on the ground to avoid the overspray. She wanted to run, but she really didn’t want to go blind trying.
Heavy footsteps sounded. “What’s going on here?” A deep voice called.
Jane peaked through her fingers. The voice belonged to the older man in the ball cap. She got up and ran so that he stood between her and Brad. “He jumped me. Grabbed my purse, dumped it all out. I don’t know what’s going on.”
The man stood with his hands on his hips, legs spread apart, making a sort of wall between Jane and Brad.
“I wanted to get her keys.” Brad’s hands were over his eyes and he choked his words out. “She went crazy.”
“What are you two doing down here?” The man’s deep voice dripped with authority.
“We’re just going in to get something.” Brad rubbed his eyes
with his fingertips. Tears streamed down his face.
“Well, you don’t get to.” He glanced over his shoulder at Jane. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I think so.” She kept her on her mace, though she knew she was going to be fine now. She had the chance to get Brad arrested right now. She should probably take it. “No, I’m not.” She lifted her phone and dialed 911. The operator answered immediately.
“Fire, Police, or Ambulance?”
“Police. I’ve been attacked.” Jane gave the address and stayed on the line as directed.
Brad made a run for it, head first like he wanted to barrel past Jane and her defender, but the old man stopped him with a strong armed clothesline.
Brad dropped, grasping his neck. “Why are you all trying to kill me?” He barely got the words out this time.
The man stepped on Brad with a booted foot. It was a dramatic way to keep him in place, but considering Brad’s violent tendencies, Jane approved.
Whether the address had rung a bell with the police or if they had just been nearby, Jane wasn’t sure, but the siren could be heard in the parking lot almost seconds after her call, and the cops came down the hallway before she had had time to think up a lie to cover their actions.
Two officers, a woman about Jane’s height but broader and armed, and a tall, lanky man put themselves between Jane and Brad.
“So, what’s going on here?” the female officer’s voice was firm but calm.
Jane took a deep breath before speaking. “I came here with Brad Carter because he thought Kyle Fish, the missing guy, was hiding in the office. Apparently he thought I carried a lock picking set with me and when I didn’t have one he jumped me and kicked me and stuff.”
The officer narrowed her eyes. “But you maced him, and this gentleman came out, correct?”
“Yes, officer.”
“So the situation was under control.”
“Well, yes, but it was assault.”
“She maced me, man. That’s assault.” Brad was still rubbing his eyes.
“You mean battery. And it wasn’t if it was self-defense.” The lanky officer’s voice was just as firm and in control as the others. “Are you pressing charges?”
Jane stared at Brad. He was a hot mess with streaming eyes and a red face. If she pressed charges or not, she was never getting another word out of him. While she waited the hall was so quiet she could hear a watch ticking.
And a crash.
On the other side of Devon’s office door.
Followed by some just barely audible muttering.
“It’s him!” Brad turned and banged on the door. “We know you’re in there Kyle, let us in!”
“Calm down, sir,” The lanky officer said.
“You can let us in there. He killed Devon Grosse and he’s been hiding out in the office ever since.”
“Back away from the door.” This time the female officer spoke.
Brad kept banging.
“That’s an order. Back away from the door.” She raised her voice and stepped forward.
“You’re in on it!” Brad shouted. “You know he’s in there and you don’t want us to know and I don’t know why, but I’m going to find out and I’m going to report it. You can’t hide this any longer.” He kicked the door, hard, cracking a significant dent in the hollow wood.
“That’s it.” She held out her Taser. “That’s criminal mischief and attempted breaking and entering. Please put your hands on the back of your head.”
“Am I under arrest?” Brad’s voice broke.
“Oh heck yes,” The female officer said. She clacked handcuffs on him while the lanky one repeated the Miranda rights.
Jane stayed put, mostly frozen in place, while the police left with Brad.
The grizzly bearded landlord also stayed put.
When they heard the groan of the old front door, indicating the police were outside with Brad, they both exhaled, loudly.
The landlord pulled out a huge keychain. “That office is supposed to be empty,” he grumbled.
Jane stared at the huge set of keys. He must have had dozens. “Are you going in?” she whispered.
“I own this building. I can go in any room I want.”
Jane shivered from her knees to her ears. Someone was in that room, and Brad didn’t get to see. She kept a few steps behind the landlord, with her eyes wide open.
He had keys to all of the locks on the door, clicked and turned them, and pushed it open.
The venetian blinds were down but not closed and the sun sent slivers of light to shine on the dust that floated in the dim room. There was a smell in the room, not of death or decay, but dirt. Dirty people. Jane gagged slightly. It smelled like a locker room.
The landlord flipped a light on. “I don’t see anyone, do you?”
“I think I smell someone.”
The room was furnished with four desks, three tall metal filing cabinets, and stacks of cardboard files. It had two doors on the side wall. The landlord opened the first. It was a little bathroom. When he opened it, a great cloud of Lysol floated out, as though someone had been in there spraying moments ago.
The landlord frowned. He tried to open the other door, but it wouldn’t budge. “What the heck?” He yanked it again. “Let go!”
“Let go?” Jane whispered.
“Someone is in there, cranking on the knob when I try to open it.” He turned his face back to the door. “I’ve got a gun and I said let go!” He did not have a gun, but the door flew open.
A person leapt out, swinging a big boxy computer monitor at the landlord’s head.
It struck him with a hollow thud.
The landlord dropped.
Jane jumped to the doorway, ready to use the door as a shield if she needed.
The man who leapt out from the closet had extremely greasy red hair. His clothes were crumpled and dirty He smelled strongly of Lysol, and he was practically panting. “Who are you?” he croaked.
“You’re Kyle Fish, aren’t you?” He was easily recognized by his red hair.
“Who’s asking?” He backed toward his closet.
The landlord stirred on the ground. Then he sat up, his hand to his head. “You did not knock me out,” he growled. “I stayed low as a self-defense technique.
Jane doubted that.
“I’m Max Garfield and I own this building. What have you been doing in this office?” Max stood up slowly. “And for how long?”
Kyle’s eyes darted around the room, from the windows, to Jane, to Max again. He inched his way back into the closet.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Jane couldn’t decide exactly who to call, so she texted Maggie. “I’m calling you. Just listen.” Then she dialed, and hoped Maggie would answer. She held the phone out so it would catch the conversation.
Kyle kept his back to them, but was speaking under his breath, possibly to himself.
“He’s nuts.” Max reached for the phone on the desk. “I’m getting the police back here.”
Kyle swung around. He had a phone to his head. “No. Wait. Don’t call. I’m on the phone now with the feds. I’ll explain as much as I can.”
“You’ll explain everything to the police as they haul you out of this office.” Max growled.
“On the phone with the FBI?” Jane stepped away from the door. “What do the FBI have to do with anything?”
“For online stalking. The feds handle all of that. For Maggie.” Kyle was shaking.
She didn’t know what he had been eating for the last two weeks, but it didn’t look like Devon kept a well-stocked pantry at his office.
“I’ve been monitoring Voice of the Programmer, and reporting. We’re going to find out who killed Devon. We’re going to keep Maggie safe.” His eyes still darted around the room.
Whatever his mental health had been before he locked himself in his friend’s office, it wasn’t good now.
“Tell it to the police.” Max was talking big game, but he h
adn’t dialed yet. Perhaps he was more than a little intimidated by the young man who had knocked him to the floor with an old monitor.
“The FBI set you up in here,” Jane said. “They have you monitoring things to help them catch the killer.”
“Yeah. That’s right. Their behind the building, in a van. They’re right there, they promised they wouldn’t leave.”
“Devon came here after your wedding rehearsal because he hates a crowd. Why did you come here?”
“Because I read the posts. My sister showed me all the posts about Maggie. I followed Devon so I could ask him what to do.” His whole body trembled while he spoke.
“What did you see?”
Kyle clamped his mouth shut.
“You can tell me. I’m on your side.” Jane inched forward, her face tilted up. She had a look she could use with her dad that always worked, and she tried it on Kyle.
His eyes stopped on her for a moment, and his shoulders relaxed a smidgen. “I saw Devon running into the woods. He runs like an idiot. I’d recognize it anywhere. Then I watched someone else climb out the window and chase him.” His breathing grew rapid and his face heated up. He grabbed the closet door to balance himself. “I don’t know who it was. I can’t be sure. But I didn’t chase him. I didn’t follow him. I was scared.”
“Of course you were,” Jane said, her voice a soothing lull. “And you called the police?”
“Yes. Immediately. I called them and they connected me with the feds and they set me up in here to monitor what was happening.” He spoke rapidly, shaking, but his eyes resting on her, wide and asking her to believe him.
“The FBI wanted you to do surveillance for them because they have a strong interest in your Maggie’s harassment case.” She said it without any judgment, curious to see how he would react when he heard his own words reflected back. The words didn’t make sense. Would he show signs of lying?
“Yes.” He nodded, his eyes wide, but then stopped. “No. Not exactly. I called the feds. I went with them to their office. They kept me detained. When they found the body they sent me here to monitor.”
“But that was days later,” Jane said.
“No, you’re right. It was before they found the body. I don’t know.”
Spoiled Rotten Murder: A Plain Jane Mystery (The Plain Jane Mysteries Book 5) Page 15
