The Reed Ferguson Mystery series Box Set 3

by Renee Pawlish

  My phone rang. It was Ace.

  “Reed, I think I see that woman,” he whispered.

  “Where?” I said. I immediately started down Blake Street, toward the stadium.

  “She’s at Gate C, and she’s with two other women. I saw her tattoo.”

  “Good work,” I said. “Stay with her, but don’t let her see you.”

  “I won’t lose her.”

  “I’m on my way.” I ended the call, but I had to wait at the corner to cross, so I called Willie.

  “Any luck?” she asked.

  “Ace thinks he spotted her. Come to Gate C. It’s the northeast entrance.”

  “I’ll be there in a few.”

  I called Cal next. “Go to Gate C and look for Ace and Deuce. They’ve spotted the women.”

  “Got it,” he said.

  By the time I crossed Park Avenue West and made my way through the crowd to Gate C, Ace and Deuce were in one line, about to go through security, and Cal was in another line. I cut in line and joined him.

  “Are they in?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “We’re going to lose them!” My frustration was building. All this time, only to lose them again…

  “Don’t worry, Ace and Deuce are right behind them.”

  I cursed my luck as we plodded forward. There were only a few people ahead of us, but it seemed to take forever. Finally we made it through the line and into the stadium.

  “Where’d they go?” I asked, looking around. My cell phone rang.

  “We’re off to the left,” Deuce said. “They went into the restroom.”

  “Got it,” I said. I kept him on the phone as Cal and I worked our way through throngs of people.

  “There they are,” Cal said.

  Ace and Deuce were standing near a cart full of hot dog condiments.

  “I see you,” I said to Deuce. “I’m going to stay back.”

  “They’re in that restroom.” He jerked his head toward a women’s restroom across from his position.

  “Got it,” I said. “Stay on the line.” I covered the phone, and said to Cal, “I think Willie’s calling me. Can you call her and tell her where we are?”

  He nodded and while he did that, I kept my eye on the bathroom. There were two entrances, but I could easily see both. A couple of minutes later, three women emerged together. I immediately recognized them. The third one had on a Rockies cap with the camouflage pattern.

  “That’s them,” I said to Deuce. “Good work.”

  I grabbed Cal and we followed the women as they headed down the concourse. Then they took a left and walked to an escalator. Cal and I hung back and watched as they showed their tickets to an usher and then stepped on the escalator. I saw their heads rising upward and then they vanished.

  I cursed.

  “What’s wrong?” Cal asked. “Let’s follow them.” He started forward but I pulled him back.

  “We got them!” Ace said as he and Deuce joined us.

  “Yes and no,” I said.

  “Reed, what’s going on?” Cal asked. “We’re going to lose them.”

  “We can’t go up there,” another voice said. We all turned as Willie rushed up. “That’s Club Level.”

  I nodded. “Yep. That’s why they had to show their tickets to the usher. You can’t go onto the Club Level without them.”

  “You’re kidding,” Cal said.

  I grimaced. “I wish I was.”

  “Now what?” Ace said.

  I glanced around, trying to see if there was another way up to the Club Level, one where we didn’t have to show our tickets.

  “If I could get up there, I know I could find them,” I said. “It would take some time, but there are a lot fewer seats.”

  “Can you sneak up?” Cal offered.

  “I don’t know.”

  While we were talking, Willie was studying the usher. “I know.”

  “What?” I said.

  “That usher is a little old man,” she said.

  We all followed her gaze. As she had pointed out, the usher was an elderly gentleman, probably not more than five-six, with tufts of white hair sticking out from under a straw hat with a Rockies logo on it. His shoulders were hunched and he wore thick glasses, and he pleasantly greeted guests and checked their tickets.

  “You’re not suggesting we tackle him or something?” Cal said warily.

  “Of course not,” she said. “I’m going to ask him for some help and distract him.” She pointed to me. “When I do, you rush past him, like you’re in a real hurry, and flash your ticket at him.”

  “He’ll want to check it closely,” Ace said. “I’ve been watching him. He checks all the tickets.”

  Willie shook her head. “I’ll keep him too busy,” she said. “Trust me, he won’t be too worried about Reed.”

  “How’re you going to do that?” Cal asked.

  She threw him an alluring smile. “It’s called ‘feminine wiles’, Cal.” He turned bright red, but she didn’t notice because she’d turned to me. “Once he’s distracted, you make your move.” She grabbed Deuce’s arm. “You boys come with me. I’m going to work him as far away from the escalator as I can, and you two are going to help block his view.”

  “Okay,” they both agreed.

  “Just be careful how much of those wiles you use,” I said.

  She laughed and then walked toward the usher. As she drew near him, she swayed her hips. Then she tucked her hair behind her ears in that sexy way that I loved. And he noticed her. She reached him, then started talking and gesturing. He nodded, looked to where she pointed. Then they stepped away from the escalator. Ace and Deuce stood with Willie, but they crept around behind the usher as he talked to her.

  “I’ll be damned,” Cal said. “It’s working.”

  I nodded. “I’m going to sneak by now.”

  “And leave me here with all these people?” Cal whined.

  “There’s no one around us,” I said.

  He waved a hand, encompassing the entire stadium. “There’s a ton of people.”

  “You’re not in any danger.” I patted his shoulder. “You’ll be fine. If I get up the escalator without being seen, get Willie and go to your seats. I’ll meet you there when I’m finished.”

  “Okay,” he said, but he wasn’t happy.

  I started toward the escalator. Willie kept talking to the usher and I pulled out my ticket. I hurried my pace as I neared the escalator, then flashed the ticket at him and rode up the moving stairs. I heard him say something, and then Willie’s voice, but that was it. In a moment, the escalator deposited me at the Club Level. Now I needed to find the third fan.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Coors Field Club Level seating is on the stadium’s second tier. The seats have the best views and are protected from the elements by an overhanging deck. And unlike the other seating around the stadium, the Club Level has an enclosed, climate-controlled concourse with premium concessions, meaning they had bars that served hard liquor rather than just beer, and vendors that offered fancier foods at higher prices.

  I stood for a moment and admired the view through the glass concourse walls. I could see the entire field. The players had finished warm-ups and the field crew was completing final preparations on the infield. I looked around the stadium. The Rockies hadn’t been playing well and a lot of seats were empty, especially on the upper deck where a row of purple seats marked a mile above sea level. The team may not have been great, but the stadium was stunning.

  I walked down the carpeted Club Level concourse, watching for any of the three women. I passed one bar area and a shop selling Rockies gear, and then I spotted the women standing in line at a concession stand that sold burgers and brats. It was the camouflage hat the third fan wore that caught my eye. All three wore shorts and purple Rockies T-shirts, but the third fan was the only one around with a camo hat. One of her friends was tall, carried a few extra pounds and had short dark hair, and the second was Africa
n-American, a few inches shorter and pencil-thin. I slid over to the wall near a trash can and watched them. They were laughing and chatting, and none had a clue that someone was watching them. Good. After a few minutes, they reached the front of the line, ordered burgers and beer, paid and moved aside. A minute later, they got their food and drinks and strolled down the concourse. I stayed back. The concourse was not as busy as I would’ve preferred, but I tried to make sure there were some other people between them and me. They finally arrived at a glass door close to home plate. The tall one had her ticket in her hand, along with her beer. She laughed as she held out the ticket and her beer. The usher pretended that he was going to take her beer, but then he laughed and gave her ticket a perfunctory check, opened the door and let them through. I sped up, got to their section and watched through the glass as they sat down four rows from the top.

  On the field, a man started belting out the National Anthem, so I stood along with everyone else and placed my hand over my heart. When he finished singing, the women sat down and the game started. My mind raced. How could I find out who they were? Then an idea popped into my head.

  I walked over to the usher, a man in his sixties. He wore the employee uniform of tan slacks, a Rockies shirt, and a straw hat with the Rockies logo on it.

  “I need your help,” I said, sounding brusque and officious.

  “That’s what I’m here for.” A smile stretched across his face.

  I pulled out my wallet and flashed my private investigator’s license at him, quickly enough that he couldn’t see exactly what was on it. The smile faded slightly and he cleared his throat.

  “Is there a problem?” he asked.

  “I’m undercover,” I said. “And I need some information about some guests.”

  “The police?” I didn’t bother to correct him. He cleared his throat again. “Well, I don’t know that I can –” he started to say.

  “Don’t worry,” I interrupted. “Just a couple of quick questions. See those three women?” I pointed at my suspects. “What can you tell me about them?”

  “The ones on the end?”

  I nodded.

  “They’re season-ticket holders. I know the tall one’s named Amelia. I remember it because it’s a more unusual name. I think her father buys the tickets. They’re all three in college.” The smile faded. “They’re not in some kind of trouble, are they? They’re such nice girls.”

  “What are the seat numbers?”

  He told me. “What’s this about?”

  “And what about that couple over there?” I said, picking out an older couple. “Down in the first row.” I didn’t want him to know who exactly I was interested in.

  He moved to his right so he could see who I was pointing at. “I don’t know them. What’s this about?”

  “And what are their seat numbers?”

  He rattled off the numbers, and I pointed to yet another couple near the back of the section.

  “Do we need to talk to them?” he asked after he told me about the third group.

  “No, I’ll handle it from here.”

  “Is there any danger?”

  “No, you don’t have to worry.” I pressed my lips into a firm line. “I need you to keep our conversation in strictest confidence. Your name is…” I made a show of looking for a nameplate on his uniform.

  “I’m Wilbur Dennison, but everyone calls me Wil.”

  “Wil, as long as you keep this to yourself, you have nothing to worry about.”

  “Of course, sir. Is there anything else I can do?”

  “That’s it.”

  I whirled around and walked away before he thought to ask me for my name or badge number, which of course I didn’t have. Instead of going down the same escalator, I continued on until I found a wide set of stairs. I took them down to the main concourse, strolled along the first base side, then up a different escalator to our seats on the upper deck.

  “What happened?” Willie asked after I sat down.

  Cal and the Goofball Brothers leaned over so they could hear me tell them about my adventure on the Club Level.

  “I feel kind of bad about lying to that usher,” I concluded. “But I needed the information.”

  “The poor guy won’t look at any of the fans in his section the same way again,” Willie said.

  “And what about the old guy you talked to?” Ace grinned at Willie, then turned to me. “Reed, you should’ve seen her. She acted like she was lost and he kept telling her where to go, and she would get confused and ask him again and point the wrong way. By the time we left him, he thought we were all crazy.”

  “She was good,” Deuce agreed. “That usher didn’t know what was going on.”

  I laughed. “You were good, hon,” I said to her.

  “Thanks.” Willie pecked my cheek. “Now what are you going to do?”

  “I need Cal to help me find who buys those season tickets.”

  “That shouldn’t be too hard,” Cal said. “When do you want to do this?”

  “Now?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” He stood up and looked down at Willie. “Sorry, but I’m not a sports fan.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, then turned back to me. “What if the boys and I stay and watch the rest of the game? Or do you need our help?”

  I shook my head. “You’ve all been a big help.”

  “Okay,” Deuce said. “We’ll see you later, then.” He focused on the game.

  “That’s my cue to leave,” I murmured to Willie.

  “Uh-huh.” I kissed her, and Cal and I left.

  “This is more like it,” Cal said.

  We were sitting at my kitchen table. I had opened a beer, while Cal sat with his laptop open. I’d put on an 80s alternative mix CD and I almost felt as if Cal and I were back in our college apartment, working on homework.

  I tipped my bottle at him. “You’re back where you belong, in front of a computer.”

  “You said it.”

  “Hey, helping me this time didn’t involve any danger.”

  He glanced at me over the laptop. “Don’t be so sure of that. My heart rate still hasn’t returned to normal.”

  I laughed. “Oh, the horror.”

  He ignored my mocking. “Okay, what are the seat numbers the usher gave you?” I gave them to him and he started typing. I peeled at the label on my beer while he worked. “Huh,” he said a few minutes later.

  I leaned forward. “What?”

  “Cherry Creek Family Practice buys the tickets.”

  “It’s a business?”

  “Doctors,” Cal said. “Let me Google them.” He paused. “It’s a practice with three doctors: Florence Bascomb, Theodore Grassbauer, and George Prados.”

  “It’ll take too long to visit them all.” I stared into space and ran through my conversation with the usher. “Wil said those three women are in college.” I pointed at Cal’s laptop. “See if any of the doctors have college-aged daughters.”

  “Oh, that’s not a bad idea. And who’s Wil?”

  “The usher I talked to.”

  He focused on the screen. “This is going to take a little longer.”

  “You want anything to eat?”

  “No, I had a hot dog at the stadium,” he said as he typed.

  “I didn’t,” I said, “and I’m hungry.” I got up and warmed up some leftover pizza. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Mom sent a ring from her grandmother.” I went into the bedroom, grabbed the ring from my nightstand drawer, where I’d hidden it, and returned to the kitchen. “What do you think?” I held up the ring.

  He sat back. “Oh, Reed, this is all so sudden!”

  “Ha ha,” I said. “Do you think Willie will like it?”

  He examined the ring closely. “I think it’s perfect.” He started typing again. “When are you going to ask her?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said. I leaned against the counter and ate a piece of pizza while I talked. “When this case is solved, I guess. I want eve
rything to be perfect, so I don’t want to be distracted.”

  “Yeah, because you’ll be nervous enough as it is.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Okay, here we go.” He sat back again and gestured at the screen. I came around the table and glanced over his shoulder. “Two of the doctors have college-age daughters: Florence Bascomb and Theodore Grassbauer. We can eliminate George Prados because he has two sons and they’re both in their forties.”

  “Okay, can you –”

  He held up a hand. “I’m not finished.”

  “Sorry,” I murmured.

  “Florence Bascomb’s daughter is named Sharonda. She’s twenty-one and goes to Yale.”

  “Not bad.”

  “It’s not Harvard.”

  “True,” I said. Both Cal and I had graduated from Harvard, Yale’s main rival. But where he had breezed through, I’d struggled much more.

  “And Theodore Grassbauer’s daughter is twenty. Her name is Haley and she goes to CU.” The University of Colorado is located in Boulder, a city thirty miles northwest of Denver.

  “Can you pull up driver’s license photos of the two girls?”

  “Hang on.”

  He did more of his hacker magic and a moment later we were staring at photos of two young women. Sharonda was the pencil-thin African-American girl.

  “She’s prettier in person,” I said.

  Cal snorted. “Tell me what driver’s license photo is good.”

  “True.”

  Haley Grassbauer was the taller one with dark hair.

  “Neither one is the girl in the camo cap who keeps hanging around Charlie’s condo,” I said.

  “But one of these two,” Cal pointed at the screen, “knows who she is and how to get in touch with her.”

  I nodded. “I’ll have to talk to both of them.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I wonder if they both live with their parents.”

  “Why?”

  “I really don’t want to visit them at their parents’ houses and have to explain what’s going on to the good doctors. And since Sharonda goes to college out-of-state, I’ll bet she lives at home during the summer.”