His hands balled into fists. “Man, I told her to keep her mouth shut.”
“So you admit knowing her,” I said. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Why’d you kill her?”
“What’re you talking about?” He was cool about it, no emotion. No concern for her death.
“She was shot late last night. She’s dead.” I stared down at him. “I think you did it.”
“You’re crazy.” He was so calm it was frightening. “The Rockies had a game last night and I worked until after two, and then I came home.”
“I can check your alibi.”
“Go right ahead,” he retorted. Then he took a deep breath and was calm again. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”
“I think you do,” I said. “You were in on selling steroids, weren’t you?”
He glared at me.
“I’ll bet it was good money, huh, and you wanted a piece of the action. So you could get out of here,” I waved a hand at the sparse surroundings. “You saw Pete flashing money, so you decided to get him out of the way, and then you could sell to ballplayers.”
“No!” Finally, some emotion.
“So you stole Charlie’s gun to make him look guilty, and then you cut in on Pete’s business.” I stared him down. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me there’s another reason why you lied about knowing Maggie.”
He flew off the couch at me. “Look, maybe I threatened Maggie, but I didn’t kill her…or Pete.”
He suddenly seemed bigger than I remembered. I took a step back. “Why’d you threaten her?”
“She wasn’t being careful about Pete.”
“What do you mean?”
He breathed hard, his nostrils flaring. “When you came around asking about her, and Pete, and whether he was selling steroids, I knew I had to get her to shut her trap or you’d find out about me.”
“You were selling steroids, too.”
He nodded. “Not at first, but I saw the money Pete was making and I wanted in on the action. It all started when I met Maggie through Pete. She was flapping her jaw about how much money she was making, just selling at some gyms, and I wanted in on it. She sold some to me and I started supplying a couple minor league guys. And a few more guys were interested, so I finally told Maggie I would need more. She said she had to talk to her supplier, but she wouldn’t tell me who that was. I kept on her and finally got her to tell me. Imagine my surprise when she said Pete.”
Finally got Maggie to tell, I thought. By threatening her?
“I thought it was a great setup, and I figured I could help Pete,” he continued. “Only he wasn’t interested.”
“Why not?”
He frowned. “He was making lots of money selling ’roids. Why share?”
“So you killed him.”
“No!” He clenched his hands again and I thought he might swing at me, so I subtly backed up. “Pete was my friend.”
“Who you tried to screw over,” I said.
“I never cut in on his action.”
“But he wasn’t happy.”
He shook his head.
“How’d he feel about you and Maggie?” I asked.
“I wasn’t dating her.”
“And thus your indifference to her death.” That received a blank look, similar to what I sometimes elicited from the Goofball Brothers. Must’ve been my erudite phrasing. “You don’t care about Maggie’s death,” I clarified.
“She was trying to screw me over.”
“How?”
“She wanted to charge me a lot more for the steroids.”
“Because Pete was charging her more.”
“I guess. Anyway, we got into a fight and I told her she better keep supplying me. She got mad and said she’d call the Rockies and the newspapers, and tell them I was supplying players with steroids. Do you know what would happen if she did that? It would ruin me. I’d lose my job and there’d be no way I could get on with any ball club anywhere.”
I thought for a moment. “She was really scared of you. She even said if she told about you, you’d kill her.”
“It doesn’t mean I did,” he snarled. “I had to scare her to keep her quiet.”
“She won’t talk to anyone now.”
“It wasn’t me,” he said through gritted teeth. “I never laid a hand on her.”
I didn’t believe him, but I had no way of proving it. And it didn’t matter now if he had hurt her in order to keep her quiet. She was dead, and that was the tragedy. And if Greg was working at the time of her death, then who killed her?
I glanced around. If Greg was innocent, my case was just shot to hell. I had no suspects anymore, and I suddenly didn’t know what to say. “I’m sure the police will be visiting soon,” I finally said. It sounded lame when it came out.
“I don’t have any more to tell them than I told you,” he growled.
I nodded.
He jerked a thumb at the door. “You need to go.”
I moved toward the door, wary of him. I could feel his eyes boring into my back as he followed me. I quickly opened the door and stepped outside and he slammed the door behind me. The screen door slapping back into place punctuated my exit.
As I hurried to my car, I took some deep breaths and felt the tension ooze out of me. I hadn’t realized that my muscles had been so tight. I got into the 4-Runner and drove off, half expecting Greg to come running after me. Only when I turned onto 44th did I get out my cell phone and make a call.
“Hey,” Cal said. “How goes the detecting?”
“I’m curious about Greg Revis,” I said. “Can you check something for me?”
“I’ll try.”
“See if he has any arrests for assault or domestic violence, things like that.”
I heard the clacking of his fingers on the keyboard as I headed down 44th back toward downtown.
Cal whistled. “He’s a charming one.”
“What?”
“Assault and battery. And he does have a domestic abuse charge. And it looks like he had another fight that he pleaded down. How does that help you?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. I told him about Maggie and about my conversation with Greg.
“He may not have killed her, but he’s one angry dude,” Cal said.
“Yeah, I saw that firsthand. But you should’ve seen how he was able to keep his emotions in check, at least for a while.”
“Learned over time, I’m sure. And then it boils over.”
“Uh-huh. How’re things on your end?” I asked.
“Busy with a new client, so I need to go.”
“Thanks for your help,” I said and hung up.
As “London Calling” by The Clash played on the car stereo, I thought about Greg’s alibi. How could I get access to the Rockies organization? I highly doubted I’d get someone to talk to me, a private investigator. But I knew someone who could get access. I turned down the song and dialed another number.
“Hey, it’s Reed,” I said.
“I can’t help you on this case, Ferguson,” Spillman said.
“But I might be able to help you.”
“Yes?” Skepticism in her voice.
“Maggie was involved with a guy named Greg Revis. You should check up on him. He works for the Rockies and says he was working the game last night, when she was killed. Can you verify his alibi?”
“You don’t want to?” she asked with mild sarcasm.
“You have more manpower than I do, and the Rockies are more likely to talk to your people than mine.” I chuckled quietly, thinking that if I sent “my people” – Ace or Deuce – to talk to the Rockies staff, well, wouldn’t that be interesting. “I don’t know where your investigation is at, but don’t say I’ve never tried to help you.” Such a long pause ensued that I thought the call had dropped. “Spillman?”
“Thanks, Ferguson,” she said and was gone.
I smiled. She’d thanked me. Not bad.
Chapter Twenty-Two
As I drove back to the condo,
I kept running the case through my mind like a film reel. And the ending was the same every time – I didn’t have squat. I was missing something, but I couldn’t think what. Then one thing dawned on me. I’d seen that woman in the Mazda at Pete’s last night. In all the commotion this morning, I’d forgotten about her. Was she the same woman who was hanging around Charlie’s condo, stalking him? Was she the key?
Then I had another, more fundamental thought: What if I was looking at this all wrong and the steroids had nothing to do with Pete’s death? Maybe the woman in the Mazda killed Pete and Maggie because she saw them as some kind of threat to Charlie’s career. Or she was jealous of Pete’s friendship with Charlie. Crazier things happen.
I called Ace, but he didn’t answer, so I tried Deuce.
“Hi, Reed,” he said, his voice languid, just like Ace’s. “How’s it going?”
“Not bad,” I lied. “How’s your hand?”
“It’s still sore, but I think a little better.”
“That’s good to hear.” I heard the sounds of traffic in the background. “Are you staking out my client’s condo?”
“Huh?”
I suppressed a sigh. “Are you watching for the woman outside my client’s building?”
“Oh, right.” He laughed. “I’m here now. The bar’s not open yet and we’re hungry, so Ace went to get us something to eat.”
“Have you seen that woman?”
“No, it’s been quiet.”
“Okay, call me if you see her and I’ll come over.”
“You can count on me,” he said.
“I know. Thanks, buddy.”
By now I was home, so I parked and ran upstairs. Willie was in the kitchen, fixing a sandwich. She had on running shorts and a lightweight shirt. I came up behind her and planted a kiss on her cheek.
“Hey, I’m all sweaty from my run,” she said.
“It’s okay.”
“You want a sandwich? Turkey and cheese.”
“Sure.”
She prepared another sandwich and handed it to me. Then she turned around and leaned against the counter. “How’d it go?” she asked, then took a bite of her sandwich.
“Not great,” I said. I pulled out a chair from the table, sat down and filled her in while we ate.
“What’re you going to do now?” she asked after I’d told her about Maggie and Greg.
“I don’t know.”
“So you think this woman, this…” she waved a hand around, “this fan might be involved?”
“I know it sounds insane, but maybe. Charlie’s seen her around his place and I did, too. And I’m sure I saw her at Pete’s apartment last night.”
“How’re you going to find her?”
I shrugged. “Ace and Deuce are watching Charlie’s apartment in case she shows up. I guess I’ll head over there.”
“You know how much I love stakeouts and how happy I’d be to help, but I’ve got to go to work later,” she said.
“I hear that sarcasm.”
“You caught me.” She laughed and headed out of the kitchen. “I’m taking a shower so I’ll see you later,” she called over her shoulder.
I really didn’t want to join Ace and Deuce in the game of “watch for Charlie’s stalker”. But I didn’t have anything else to do, and three pairs of eyes trying to spot the woman would be better than two. So I sighed dramatically to no one, went in the bedroom and told Willie I was leaving, and headed out.
When I arrived at Blake Street Tavern, Ace and Deuce were lounging at a table outside.
“Hey, Reed,” Ace smiled when he saw me. “Nothing so far.”
I sat down and a waitress came up.
“Reed, this is Kendra,” Deuce introduced her.
“You’re the friend they keep talking about,” she said. “These two are a couple of characters.”
Both brothers blushed.
“Yeah, they are,” I agreed.
“What can I get you?” she asked.
“A Fat Tire,” I said, ordering my usual brew. An umbrella provided us shade and it was pleasantly cool. “This isn’t so bad,” I said to the brothers after she left.
“It’s okay,” Deuce said. “We walk around some, check the other streets, but we haven’t seen her.”
“I might’ve scared her off when I chased her the other night,” I said. And then what will I do? I thought.
Kendra brought my beer and I visited with the brothers, all the while keeping my eye on the street. At intervals, one of us would walk up and down Blake Street, but the woman, or her two friends, never showed. The afternoon dragged on. Around four, the crowds started to build in anticipation of the Rockies game, which started shortly after six. I paid the bill and the Goofball Brothers and I left the bar and positioned ourselves on either corner of Blake and Park Avenue West. I periodically walked up and down the street, with the same result. I never spotted Charlie’s stalkers. As game time drew near, I traipsed down past Charlie’s building again. Then I turned the corner and ran right into Gil Valducci.
“Oh, hello,” he said, surprised. “Were you at Charlie’s?”
“No, I’m watching out for those fans that have been stalking him.”
He appraised me with disapproval. “That’s what the investigation has come to?”
“Among other things.”
“Well, it’s Charlie’s money.” He shook his head. “It just seems crazy to me.”
“I wouldn’t say he’s wasting his money,” I said, a tad defensively.
“Maybe not. I can’t believe the police incompetence,” he said, shaking his head. “A man gets shot in the back in his kitchen and the neighbors hear the shot, and the police can’t find the killer by now? It shouldn’t be this hard, right?”
“I’m sure they’re doing everything they can.”
He frowned. “I hope so, because Charlie doesn’t deserve this.”
“You’re right about that.”
“I’m going to see him now. He’s discouraged, and who could blame him?”
“Tell him I’ll be in touch soon,” I said.
He tipped his head at me and strode down the street to the front door of Charlie’s building. I watched him disappear inside, and then I crossed the street and rejoined Ace and Deuce. They were both out of breath.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“I think we saw her,” Ace said.
“Where?” I whirled around, looking in all directions.
Ace pointed toward Park Avenue West, so I started walking in that direction. The brothers fell into step with me.
“She met her friends on the corner, so we followed them. But we tried to stay back so they wouldn’t see us, and they disappeared in the crowd,” Deuce said. “We lost them.”
“Damn!” I said as I reached the corner of Blake and 22nd.
“Hey, we’re sorry,” Ace said.
“Don’t worry about it, buddy,” I said distractedly. I was staring across the street at the tall green gates on the north side of Coors Field.
“Are you okay?” Ace asked.
Deuce waved a hand in my face. “Reed?”
I looked back at the two of them. “Der! I know how I can find her.” They stared at me, so I pointed at the stadium. “She’ll be back.”
“Oh,” they both said, not understanding me.
“It might take a game or two, but she’s a Rockies fan.” Blank stares. “She’s going to come to another game.”
“Oh,” they both repeated, still not getting it.
“I’m going to need some help,” I said.
“We’ll do what we can,” Ace said while Deuce nodded.
“It might take a few games.” I gestured at them. “Come on, let’s go back to my place and I’ll explain.”
As I drove home, I formed a game plan. Now I needed to get a team together to implement it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
It actually took three days and two games for my plan to work. The evening we’d lost the women in the c
rowd, I’d gone home and talked to Willie and the Goofball Brothers, and asked them if they’d be willing to stake out Coors Field and watch for the three fans. With their help I could cover all sides of the stadium. And since the third fan, as I’d come to think of her, knew me by sight, I had to be careful so that she wouldn’t spot me. Willie was on board, saying she thought it would be fun and she might get to see some games. The Goofball Brothers were eager to help as well, I think because they’d gotten caught up in the intrigue of finding the woman they’d been watching for. Then I called Cal and asked for his assistance as well. He was resistant and had to put aside his fear of crowds to come help. I think that was mostly because Willie got on the phone and begged him. He had a hard time saying no to her. My plan was a long shot, as the crowds would be big and I didn’t have any pictures of the three fans to give Willie, Cal, or the Goofballs, but it was the best I could do.
The next night, Wednesday, we all went to the Rockies game. I stayed on Blake Street, near Charlie’s building, in case the fans decided to stop and spy on Charlie’s condo before the game. Willie took the south side of the stadium, Cal positioned himself near the front entrance at 20th and Blake, and the Goofball Brothers took the entrances on the north side, closest to me.
I’d given them all the best description I could of the three fans, including the tattoo on the third fan’s neck. If they spotted anyone they thought might be a match, they would call me and I’d come running. I just had to be careful that if they were the right women, they wouldn’t spot me.
But the night was a bust. The women could’ve gotten past us, or they didn’t show. Either way, I’d bought tickets for everyone and we all watched the Rockies pull off a rare win against the Dodgers. The only exciting thing was that Spillman called and said that Greg Revis’ alibi checked out, and she warned me to be careful because I was dealing with a killer. Like I didn’t know that.
The next day, Thursday, the Rockies had off, so we all came back to the stadium on Friday at four and tried again. I again bought everyone tickets and then we separated, going to our designated spots to watch for the women.
By five-thirty, I was wondering if tonight would be a bust again. Maybe this was a stupid plan, I chided myself. I was wasting everyone’s time, although none of them seemed to mind, and they’d enjoyed the game the other night.
The Reed Ferguson Mystery series Box Set 3 Page 46
