“I hope so.” Oren paused. “As hard as this is, it’s even worse knowing people think Charlie did it. But there’s no way in the world Charlie would kill his best friend. I hope you find who did.”
“I’ll do my best,” I said lamely. I offered my condolences again and ended the call. Then I turned back around and stared off the deck.
Charlie strolled out and leaned against the railing. “Did you find out anything?”
I handed him the phone. “Mr. Westhaven didn’t know much about Maggie. Except that he thinks Pete hated her.”
Charlie gnawed at his lower lip for a moment. “Huh,” he finally said.
Huh was right. I had two conflicting stories about Maggie. One, that Pete was dating her and they’d been fighting lately. And two, that she was Pete’s business partner, and Pete hated her. Which one was true?
We lapsed into silence and watched the people walking along Blake Street.
“Hey, there she is again,” Charlie said. “Man, does she ever go away?”
“Who?”
He jabbed a finger down toward the street. “One of those girls who keeps following me.”
I gazed to where he was pointing. Down below, a woman stood loitering on the corner. “Are you sure?” I couldn’t tell if it was one of the women we’d seen earlier.
“Pretty sure.”
“Do you have binoculars?” I asked.
He nodded, ran into the house and came back with a pair. He trained them on the street. “I think it’s the same girl.” He handed me the binoculars.
I gazed through the binoculars at the girl. She had on khaki shorts and a Rockies T-shirt. Under a black Rockies baseball hat was long, dark hair. It could’ve been one of the girls who had watched us. Or it was a fan who’d just come from the game and was waiting for someone.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” I said as I handed the binoculars back. “If you’re worried, maybe you could hire a bodyguard.” I wasn’t offering. I’d once been hired to be a bodyguard for a spoiled trust-fund baby, and she’d driven me – and ironically, Cal – nuts. Having to accompany someone everywhere they wanted to go was not what I wanted to do again.
Charlie growled. “Whatever.” He stomped back inside.
I stared back down at the woman, and something popped into my head. Jane had said she saw a woman with long hair hanging around Pete’s apartment the night of the murder and again the next day. Could it be? I shook my head. Nah…but?
“I think I’ll go,” I said as I came back into the living room.
Charlie was sitting on the couch, scowling and drinking a beer. He didn’t move or say anything so I let myself out.
I took the elevator to the lobby and hurried outside, but when I looked across the street, the woman had disappeared. I stared up and down Blake Street, but I didn’t see her anywhere. So much for that. I wasn’t sure what I would’ve done had she been there. If I had followed her, she could’ve accused me of being the stalker, and if I’d tried to talk to her about following Charlie, well, what if I was mistaken? What if she was just some random fan and not Charlie’s stalker? That could’ve been an embarrassing situation for me. Oh well. I shrugged and started walking back to the 4-Runner. On my way there, Bogie’s voice sounded from my pocket. I pulled out my phone and almost did a fist-pump. It was Cal.
“Hey, sorry I missed your call,” Cal said when I answered. “How’s it going?”
I told him what I’d uncovered so far, and ended with, “…and my client maintains he doesn’t know anything, and that he and Pete were Boy Scouts. Except for the steroids.”
Cal snickered. “That may be the case for Charlie, but not for Pete.”
“Oh, yeah?” I reached the corner and stopped. “What’d you find?”
“First, Charlie was a Boy Scout,” Cal said. “Eagle Scout, actually.”
“You’re hacking into Boy Scout websites?” I asked.
“Not ‘hacker’, remember?” he corrected me. “And I didn’t hack into their site. I found the information on a bio somewhere. Anyway…” he stretched out the word. “Charlie got fair grades in high school and college. He hasn’t been in any trouble except for a bar fight when he was at Florida State. That’s it.”
“But Pete?”
“That’s a different case.” I heard him typing and then he said, “I wouldn’t say he was horrible, but he got himself into some trouble.”
“Charlie did say that Pete was a partier during college.”
“Did he say that Pete got busted?”
“No,” I said. “What happened?”
“He was arrested for marijuana possession.”
“Interesting.”
“Yeah, he managed to get off with probation, but it’s on his record.”
I thought of something else. “Charlie mentioned that he helped get Pete a job in the Rockies clubhouse. I wonder if Pete’s past troubles were making it hard for him to get a good job.”
“Could be,” Cal said. “Pete also has a DUI, and he was in the bar fight with Charlie.”
“You’re right,” I said. “Pete was no Boy Scout.”
“Uh-huh. He probably got into more trouble, but nothing that’s on the record.”
“Great work,” I said.
“You need anything else?”
“Yeah, I –” I suddenly had the feeling I was being watched. I whirled around, but only saw an older couple who walked up behind me.
“Reed?” Cal asked.
The couple got to the corner and waited for the light to turn green. Then they crossed the street, oblivious to me.
“Sorry,” I said to Cal. “I’m getting paranoid.”
“Getting?”
“You’re not funny.” I kept glancing around, but I didn’t see anyone suspicious. Maybe Cal was right. “Could you do one more thing and look up the address for Maggie Hollenbaucher?”
“Ah, the mysterious woman that Pete either loved or hated. Spell the last name.”
“I’m not sure.”
“Great,” he muttered. I heard him typing, then “No, that’s not right. No Maggie or Margaret in Denver with that spelling.” A pause, more typing. “Okay, this is it. Only one Maggie Hollenbaucher in Colorado.” He spelled the last name. “She lives on West Center Avenue in Belmar. Good thing she’s got an unusual last name.”
“No kidding,” I said. “Thanks for the help. I owe you, as always.”
“You know I never collect.”
“And you know you love helping, you just won’t admit it.”
“I’ve been in too many scrapes with you,” he said. “No, thank you.”
It was true. Poor Cal. When he’d ventured out with me, he’d been scared pretty badly. The man just did not have a taste for real-life adventure.
“Your life needs some excitement.”
“Not that much.”
But he was laughing when he ended the call.
Chapter Nine
Traffic along Blake was slow, but I got onto 20th and then I-25 South, and it was a quick shot west on Sixth Avenue to Lakewood. Maggie lived in a new apartment complex in Belmar, a recently renovated area that included twenty-two square blocks of shops, restaurants and a movie theater. I turned onto Teller and found a parking lot near Maggie’s apartment building, which was right in the heart of Belmar, just down the block from the theater.
I got out and walked across the street and along the sidewalk. As I neared her place, a multi-level apartment with a private entrance, a woman emerged from Maggie’s door. She had long, curly red hair pulled into a ponytail, and she wore what looked like workout clothes – tight knit shorts and a lightweight shirt. A large gym bag was slung over her shoulder. She put on sunglasses and started down the walk toward me.
“Are you Maggie Hollenbaucher?” I asked when she drew close.
She slowed down. “Who wants to know?”
“I’m a private investigator,” I said. “I want to talk to you about Pete Westhaven.”
She waved a han
d, as if shooing me away, then stepped past me without a word.
“Hey!” I started to follow her.
“Leave me alone,” she called over her shoulder. “I don’t have anything to say to you. If you bug me, I’ll call the cops.”
With that, she dashed across the street to a silver Toyota Camry parked in the same lot I had parked in. She unlocked her car, threw the bag in the backseat, got in and drove to the lot entrance. But she had to wait behind another car.
How do you like that? I thought. Then I made a quick decision.
I ran across the street to the 4-Runner, hopped in and drove out of the lot. By now, the Camry had turned right on West Virginia Avenue and was about to turn right onto Wadsworth Boulevard. I kept a few cars between us as I followed Maggie north.
She had to be going to a gym, I thought. But where? I didn’t know the neighborhood. I didn’t have to wait long for an answer. Only a few blocks later, she turned right into a shopping complex. Moments later, I hung a right and spotted a Planet Fitness gym in a large building at one end of the complex. Maggie parked on one side of the building. I pulled into another row of cars where I could see the Camry. Maggie got out and grabbed her gym bag, then strolled into Planet Fitness, completely oblivious that I’d followed her.
I figured she would be in there for at least an hour, and I’d noticed a sign for Good Times Burgers just up the street, so I headed back to Wadsworth. I hadn’t eaten since my late breakfast with Charlie and Gil, and my stomach was growling. I drove to the Good Times, got a burger, fries and a Coke, and then went back to the gym. I parked where I could see the Camry and the Planet Fitness entrance, then hunkered down and ate my late lunch, or early dinner, since it was now almost six. Once I’d finished, I sipped my soda and waited.
An hour later, Maggie came out of the gym, but now she was wearing blue khaki shorts and a short-sleeved yellow blouse. Her hair fell around her shoulders. And a man was with her. He was a gym rat, big and all well-defined muscles. She adjusted the gym bag on her shoulder, pushed her sunglasses up on her head, and gestured for him to follow her.
I got out of the 4-Runner and ran between cars until I neared her Camry. I ducked down and worked my way closer, then stopped by a brand-new Jeep Cherokee. Maggie’s car was on the other side. I peeked through the Cherokee’s window. By now, Maggie and the guy had reached her car. I tipped my head in their direction and listened to the conversation.
“Hold on a second,” she said as she unlocked her car. She put the gym bag in the backseat, then pulled out another small paper bag. “It’s all I can give you.”
“That’s it?” the guy said. He twisted his lip as he took the bag. “When are you going to get some more?”
“I don’t know. I’ve got a supply problem right now.”
“Okay, maybe I’ll get some more elsewhere,” the guy said, none too happy.
“Hey, I’ll have some soon, okay? You’ll be here next week, right?”
He laughed and flexed an arm muscle. “Where else will I be?”
Maggie pushed him away. “That doesn’t impress me.”
“Yeah, whatever.” The guy handed Maggie some bills and then walked away.
I let the guy get out of earshot and then I hurried around the back end of the Cherokee. Maggie was about to get into her car. I noted her license plate, in case I needed it in the future, then took a couple of steps forward.
“Hello,” I said.
She jumped and then whirled around. “What the h –!” A hand flew to her chest. “You scared me half to death!”
“Sorry,” I said, although I really wasn’t feeling that remorseful.
I leaned against the Cherokee and crossed my arms. “What are you up to?”
She stared at me in total surprise and then her eyes narrowed. “You’re that private investigator who came to my house.”
I held up my hands. “Guilty.”
“I said I didn’t want to talk to you.”
“I think you should, especially after what I saw with you and –” I wagged a finger toward the gym rat, who’d just disappeared back into Planet Fitness, “that guy.”
Her eyes shifted left and right as she scrambled for an excuse. “I don’t know what you mean,” she finally said.
“What’d you sell him?”
“I…uh…” She stopped and scrutinized me. “Wait, are you undercover or something?”
I shook my head. “I’m a private investigator, remember?”
“Yeah? What’s your name?”
“Sam Spade,” I said, using one of my favorite pseudonyms.
She cocked an eyebrow. “Spade? Like a shovel?”
No, I thought. Am I the only Dashiell Hammett fan in Denver? Sam Spade was novelist Hammett’s fictional detective, and one of Humphrey Bogart’s most famous film roles, in The Maltese Falcon. It was also my favorite alias when I went incognito. But she didn’t know or care, and she didn’t ask to see any identification, as Jane had.
I jerked my head toward the gym. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”
“No,” she said. “It’s none of your business.”
“Then let’s talk about Pete Westhaven.”
Irritation flashed across her face and then was gone. “What about him?”
“You were dating him, right?”
“Says who?”
“Jane Reichel, Pete’s next-door-neighbor. She saw you with Pete.”
She blushed, knowing she’d been caught.
“So I’d been dating him, so what?”
“Why be so cagey?” I said. “I’m looking into his death, okay? You knew he was dead, right?”
Her expression flickered sad, but then that irritation quickly replaced it. “Yeah, I saw it on the news the other night. That baseball player did it.”
“That’s what I want to find out.”
“You don’t believe Charlie Preston is guilty?”
I shrugged.
She contemplated me, then said, “So?”
“How close were you to Pete?”
“We’d broken up, that’s how close.”
“Pete’s dad said that Pete hated you.”
If that bothered her, she didn’t show it. “I never met Pete’s dad, so I have no idea what he thought.”
“Jane said you and Pete fought.”
“Yeah? Couples fight. That doesn’t mean I killed him.”
“I’m not saying you did,” I said.
“So what are you doing asking me about my relationship with Pete?”
I kicked at a small rock lying near my foot. “I’m turning over all the stones to see what I find.”
“And under one of them you think you’ll find a killer.”
I nodded.
“Unless it was the ballplayer.”
“Yep.” I stared at her. “How’d you meet Pete?”
“At a gym. We started talking. He was a nice guy.”
“How long did you date?”
“A few months.”
“When did you break up?” I asked.
“A few months ago.”
So they were dating, even though Pete’s father, Oren, didn’t know it.
“Why’d you break up?” I asked.
She sighed, then briefly fussed with her hair. “We got along and then we didn’t. Look, there’s not much to tell, okay? And I need to get going.”
She slid behind the wheel, so I took a step over and held the door open.
“Where were you on Thursday night?”
“Quit bothering me,” she snarled and pulled at the door. “I don’t have anything else to tell you.”
“Stick around,” I said, trying to sound like Bogie.
“Don’t worry. The police already told me to stay in town.” She yanked at the door. “I’m late for a date.”
“So soon after you broke up with Pete?”
“That’s none of your business,” she said.
I let go of the door. She slammed it shut, then started the car and sped out of
the parking lot with wheels screeching.
Chapter Ten
I thought about my conversation with Maggie as I walked to the 4-Runner and drove back to downtown Denver. She had not been what I would call “cooperative”. Not that she was required to be, but most innocent people liked to talk. And I’d caught at least one discrepancy in her story, the time frame when she was dating Pete. It didn’t fit with what Jane had said. She’d seen Maggie and Pete fighting about three weeks ago. So Maggie and Pete were either still dating, even though Maggie had said they weren’t together anymore, or they’d continued to see each other after they’d broken up – unless Jane’s memory about when the fight had occurred was faulty, or she assumed they were still dating when they weren’t. My head hurt with the possibilities.
And that exchange with the gym rat was telling. It didn’t take Humphrey Bogart to deduce that Maggie was involved in some shady dealings, most likely drugs or steroids. And since she’d been seen with Pete, who was selling steroids to Charlie, I’d put my money on the latter. Was Pete supplying her with steroids? Did they have a nice little operation going, selling at gyms, an arrangement that Charlie knew nothing about? Also, she’d told the gym rat she had a supply problem. If Pete was her supplier, then of course she had a problem because he was dead. But why kill him if she needed him to supply her? I didn’t have an answer to that. Nor did I have any idea where Pete was getting his steroids from. I realized I knew little about the steroid market, so I decided to go home and do some research.
I parked on the street in front of my building and walked up the sidewalk to the front porch. A light shone from the Goofball Brothers’ living room window. I was a little surprised they were home on a Saturday night, instead of at B 52s playing pool.
Hmm, I thought. A beer and some pool sounded fun. But Willie would be coming home in a couple of hours, and after hearing about Pete and Maggie’s contentious relationship, I found myself longing to be at home with Willie. That’s what it felt like to be with her…that I was truly “at home” in a way I’d never experienced before, even with my parents when I was a child. So instead of knocking on the Goofball Brothers’ door, I crossed the porch and trotted up the metal stairs to my condo. I let myself in, grabbed a beer from the fridge and headed back to my office. And wished that Willie was there.
The Reed Ferguson Mystery series Box Set 3 Page 39
