Chasing Shadows
By Candace Waters
Posted 2002
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 10
The morning was overcast and the traffic, heavy, as
I hit the expressway, headed south east of Chicago.
It was a good 45 minutes drive out to the beach. Due
to the morning commute and the rain, it had taken me
much longer to get there than I had expected.
Stanley Spiolie was waiting for me when I arrived.
I could see his tall muscular frame leaning against his
car, his arms folded across his chest. He glanced over
in my direction as I pulled up across the road in front
of the house. Smiling that charismatic smile of his,
he rose from his recline, straightening his pant leg as
he proceeded towards my car.
I got out of the car, grabbing the pouch that I carry with
me when I do my investigating work, and my flash light
from the glove compartment and walked across the road
to meet him.
"Ms Brigatt," he greeted with a smile. "So nice to see
you again."
I noticed that he was dressed more casually
this time in jeans, a green sweater and brown heavy
coat. The green sweater set off the green flecks in
his eyes.
"Please, call me Toni." I said.
"Toni," he smiled, his large gloved hand engulfing mine
with ease as we shook. There was a strong grip behind
his shake, his muscular arms were evident beneath his
coat sleeve that he had lifted many a jackhammer in his day.
We stood a moment, observing the little bungalow
which was surrounded by over hanging
branches of a eucalyptus tree.
"Very nice." I commented looking around. I had always
wanted a place near the beach.
"Mike sure loved it here," Stanley smiled. "It's not much,
but it was his home and he spent a lot of his time out
here."
He motioned forward, and we started towards the house,
the sound of our shoes crunching on the gravel path
of the road.
When we got to the house, Stanley paused momentarily
to up pull some weeds that had sprung up
along the cracks in the walkway.
"Sorry for such short notice." I apologized, watching
as he pulled up a few more of the prickly dandelions
before tossing them to the side.
"It's no problem." He assured me. " I haven't been
out here since ---" he hesitated for a moment, "well, you
know. Anyway, I'm glad that you got me out here. I hate
to see the place go to ruins."
I followed him up a flight of steps to the door. From
his belt, he unhooked a large ring that looked as though
it held a thousand keys rattling around on it. Fingering
quickly through them, he found the appropriate key,
slipped it into the lock and we inside.
It was deathly cold inside of the house, having stood
empty for months since the police's last search.
Looking around, the house appeared much larger than
I had expected. A large fireplace of black and white stone,
covered part of one wall. In the center of the room was
a black leather sofa which gave the place a masculine
feel. In front of the sofa was a black glass table, particles
of dust covered the top. The wet bar in the corner of the
room was the perfect touch for the neatly arranged,
bachelor pad. A sliding glass door in front of the couch led
out to the deck that faced out towards the beach.
I knew that the police and forensic people had already
done a thorough search
of the house and had gone over everything. The table
where Heather had found
the suicide note had been cleared of any papers and
everything had been taken
in as evidence.
As promised, I got started right away, beginning with
the small nook of a
kitchen. I did a quick check of everything--windows,
cupboard, sink--but found
nothing of importance.
My gaze followed the smoky gray carpeting that led
down a small hall space and
branched off into other rooms of the bungalow. To the
left were two rooms and
across the hall another. I noticed that right above
the baseboard of the
carpet was what looked like small flakes of red, and I
knelt down to take a
closer look.
Blood?
If so, how did forensics miss it? I removed a plastic
evidence bag that I
kept in my pouch, along with a small cotton swab. I
did a quick swipe of the
area, collecting what I could from before sealing the
entire swab in the
plastic bag, then tucked it into my pouch.
"Tedious work for a such a young lady like yourself,"
Stanley commented.
Unaware that Stanley had been watching, I turned to look up
at him. His back was to me as he examined the
frame of the front door.
"It can be challenging at times" I said, "but I like what I do."
I rose to my feet and stood for a moment, watching him
fiddle around with the jams of the door. It certainly
appeared that Stanley was the hands on type of guy, always
fixing things. I cleared my throat to get his attention and he
turned around to look at me.
"Sorry," he shrugged, and rose to his feet.
I smiled, " It's okay, I just wouldn't want to disturb what
may be left of any evidence..ah... you understand."
"Yes...yes I do," he nodded. "Maybe I should
wait outside?"
"It's really not necessary" I said. "It will just take a few
minutes."
"That's okay, I'll.. just...wait out here... out of
your way." He said,
motioning to the balcony. Fishing into his shirt
pocket for his pack of
cigarettes, he stepped outside onto the deck. Looking
at him, I could see what
Nancy found special about this gentle giant. Nancy was
sure one lucky lady.
I smiled, shaking my head, then proceeded towards the
first room and took a
peek inside. It was a bedroom, small in size yet large
enough to accommodate a
king-sized bed and a chest of drawers comfortably. I
walked towards the closet
and slid back one of the doors. Nothing surprising
there, just a few pieces
of men's clothing. I searched the closet space and
along the metal track at
the base of the door, then rose and pushed aside the
shirts to check the back
of the closet, with my flashlight.
Nothing.
I moved towards the large chifferobe and pulled open
the drawers, checking
them one by one. They, too, were empty. I closed it
up and stepped back out
into the hallway to check the other room which had
been used as Mike's office.
The large desk immediately drew my attention. I knew
that the police had
probably taken everything that may have been of value,
but I wanted to check
it anyway. It was one of those old antique roll-top
desks, very beautiful,
very classy, and when opened, very empty.
Why wasn't I surprised?
Stanley had grown quiet out on the balcony. I closed
the top and stepped back
out into the hallway to check on him, only to see what
he had found to occupy
his time. He was seated on a chair, puffing away
contentedly on his cigarette,
his head leaning back against the wall as he examined
the overhanging vines
that ran along the porch. Good. He seemed relaxed.
"So how many rooms in this place?" I called out,
going back into the room to
see what else might spark my interest. I pulled out a
pair of gloves from my
pouch and moved towards the window behind the large
desk.
"Well, if you count the john... five!" He called back.
I parted the curtain and ran the gloved hand carefully
along the windowsill,
picking up dirt, debris, and anything else that would
cling to it. I worked
fast, collecting all that I needed and turned from the
window. Pulling off the
glove, I placed it carefully into a separate plastic
bag and sealed the top.
"You all right in there?" Stanely's voice called out
suddenly from the porch.
"Doing just fine!" I called back, stepping out into
the hallway. "So, Stanley,
what kind of work do you do?" I asked.
He glanced over in my direction through the opened
door. "I own a small
construction business. But believe me, nothing quite
as interesting as what
you do," he chuckled.
"You think this is interesting?" I arched an eyebrow
at him. "You should see
me up late some nights, going over notes, examining
and reexamining the
evidence. Writing up my report is the worst." I
groaned and crossed the
hall to check the small bathroom off to the side.
I could hear his chuckle again, deep and infectious
and it made me smile.
I took a peek inside the bathroom, the fresh
smell of soap and
water hitting me in the nose . I glanced over at the
toilet and the small,
old-fashioned sink sitting beside it. I walked over
and pulled open the
medicine chest right above the sink. Inside were two
used tooth brushes a used
tube of tooth paste and a bottle of aspirin. I closed
the cabinet, then
squatted to open the door below the sink. A large
spider scurried out and I
jumped back. Arrruggh! I hate spiders almost as much
as I hate cats!
Dusting my hands, I rose from the floor, then moved
towards the bath tub and
paused. With the curtains drawn together as they were,
I was immediately
reminded of the movie Psycho movie, complete with
knife-wielding lunatic
slashing the shower curtain. This is silly! I thought
and quickly yanked the
curtain aside to find, dangling from a long twisted
rope, a hunk of soap. I
let out an unexpected laugh. I had always hated those
things! But I suppose
it was better than finding Norman Bates staring out at
me. My outbursts
provoked a curious inquiry from Stanley.
"You okay? Need my help" He mused.
"Oh..no. Everythings...fine," I called over my shoulder, feeling
utterly foolish. Actually, I really did need help. The kind
provided by the nice men in the white coats.
I looked around the tub, seeing little more than
half-empty bottles of shower
gel in a caddy. I reached over to touch the soap on a
rope, and was quite
surprised to find it slightly sticky. A washcloth hung
around the neck of the
shower head, and I was even more surprised to find
that it wasn't
stiff, nor was it completely dry. Obviously, someone
had been here since
Mike's disappearance.
I turned from the bathtub and walked back into the
living room, joining Stanley out on the balcony.
Upon hearing my steps, he turned around.
"Find anything of significance?" he asked.
Looking round, the view of the beach was
breathtaking and I drew in a peaceful breath
"Yeah." I said, " That I am going to have to start
saving up my lunch money to buy myself a place
like this."
He chuckled.
"So how long have you been in this...profession?" he asked.
" Since going solo? Not long. About a year and a
half." I said, tilting my
face up to the sky. Up above, seagulls circled about,
their wings spread wide,
as they floated gracefully across the bleak morning
sky.
"It is quite relaxing isn't it?" Stanley said.
"Yes it is," I sighed, clutching my coat together to
shield against a gust of
wind that drifted in suddenly from the ocean. Both of us grew
quiet for a moment,
enjoying the tranquillity of it all. I personally
could have stood there for
days just enjoying the view, but I knew that I had to
get back to the business
at hand.
"So, tell me about Mike," I asked abruptly turning to
face him.
Surprised by the sudden question, Stanley turned to
look at me. I suppose he
felt that we had already gone over that whole subject
with Nancy at their home
the other day. If he thought it, he didn't let on.
Looking thoughtful, he
pulled out another cigarette and placed it between his
lips.
"Mike was a good man. Young and impressionable." He
drew in deeply, then
exhaled in a cloud of smoke. "He was in love. After
Nancy told him about
removing him from the will....I suppose he lost it
after that. I-I don't
know. "
"Did he know that he was to inherit all of the money
after he married?"
"Yes, he knew it. But knowing Mike, he loved his
sister and would have done
right by her. "
"Meaning?"
"Well, Mike felt bad about what his father did, guilty
somehow. He didn't want to exclude Nancy from the
inheritance. He was really down to earth. He could
have bought an expensive home to live in, but he
preferred to live a simple life. This place was the first
place he ever purchased."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I guess you could say it was his first big invest-
ment." he smiled lighting up another cigarette.
I smiled.
"Mike loved his sister, Toni. He would have thought
nothing of splitting his
wealth with her. They were siblings, for god's sake.
It's just how he was.
Nancy was afraid, though. She knew the type of woman
Heather was, and was
afraid that she might...." He hesitated a moment.
"Somehow persuade him to keep it?" I ventured.
He glanced at me briefly then added, "Or squander it all away."
I simply nodded.
The crashing sound of the water hitting the rocks
drew our attention back to the beach. I held my hair away
from my face and we turned watching quietly as the waves
rolled in splashing white against the shore. Soon the water was
calm again. Over head, skies were dark, promising another
down pour. I felt a chill and pulled my coat tighter around me
for warmth
"I worry about Nancy though." Stanley spoke,
his voice sounding faint in the wind beside me.
I turned to look at him. "Why is that?"
"It's really tearing her apart. I mean, she still believes
Mike may be alive somehow and can't deal with the fact
that....he's gone."
"Do you think he's alive." I asked, "I mean...the notes
and all. What do you think happened to him?"
"Personally?" He asked. "I think it might be possible
that Mike..." he paused briefly to look at me, trying
hard to choose his next phrase carefully. "That he did
take his life. He was heartbroken when Nancy
expressed her disapproval of Heather. She was the love
of his life."
"But Nancy seems very certain that he's alive." I frowned,
perplexed that the two of them could be so divided on
the issue.
"I know...I-I mean, I don't know." he shrugged running a
hand over his face. He drew in a tired breath then glanced
over at me. " That's why hired you."
I studied his face for a moment, feeling suddenly pressured
to work a miracle. " I'll do what I can." I said.
He reached up fishing in his coat pocket for his lighter
and something white fluttered out onto the deck.
I glanced down. Laying beside Stanley's
large size 14's was a 3x4 index card and I bent to
pick it up. Easy Rider, the card read.
"You into bikes?" I asked handing him the card.
He seemed embarrassed. A flush rose up to cover his
face as he reached over, taking the card. "Yes...yes I
am. It's a..ahh motorcycle club that I belong too." He
said, slipping the card back into his pocket. "Thanks."
"Easy Rider huh?" I teased.
"My only vise besides these." He confessed with a grin,
holding up a partially finished cigarette. I laughed.
"Was Mike into motorcycles too?" I asked.
"No. He wasn't into anything of that sort. I tried to get
him to buy one, but it just wasn't his thing I guess.
Nancy despises it. You know, afraid of our being hurt."
I smiled remembering the very first time I had ridden on one.
My first highschool boyfriend used to take me out for a spin
on his, much to Frank's and Rosette's dismay. But I was
hooked after that and could actually ride a pretty mean bike
if I must say so myself. Later on after I joined the academy,
Frank used to tease me about it saying that it was probably
the reason I had become a cop.
"Do you take many motorcycle road trips?" I asked.
"Actually, not as many as I would like." Stanley chuckled.
"It's not Nancy's idea of fun."
I smiled again, taking one last look around before
stepping back from the
railing of the porch. "Well," I drew in a long breath, "I
suppose I'm through."
"So soon?" Stanley took a last drag from his
cigarette before dropping it on
the ground and pressing it out with the toe of his
large boot.
"Hey, I said I'd only be a moment didn't I?" I boasted
proudly.
Checking to make sure that I had everything I had
brought in with me, we
walked towards the door. I thought about the soap and
wash cloth, then turned
to Stanley who was locking the glass door to the
balcony.
"Has anyone used this bungalow or been up here since
the police?" I asked.
Stanley turned to me, blinking thoughtfully. "Not as
far as I know," he said,
shaking his head. " I mean, the place has been locked
up ever sense. I
haven't even been up here. Why do you ask?"
I shrugged, shaking my head. "No reason."
Taking a last survey of my supplies, and finding
everything accounted for, I
looked up at him. "Ready?"
"Ready when you are, little lady."
He opened the door, and we stepped outside into the
brisk air. My search had
only taken about thirty minutes. Stanley had been very
cooperative and was
such a gentle man with a spirit that would melt your
heart. Nancy was
fortunate to have him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 11
I pulled my BMW up in front of Maginty's, turned off
the engine, and sat for
a moment, wondering what the *hell* I was doing there.
I could not believe that Hobson had mistaken my threat
as an invitation for a
date. Nevertheless, he had looked so vulnerable
standing there when I pulled
off from the cafe' that morning, I decided that maybe
I had been a little rude
to him. Okay, maybe I was just down right nasty and I
supposed it wouldn't
hurt to drop by to give him a decent 'thank you'.
After all, he had saved my
life at that department store. I suppose that while I
was here, it also
wouldn't hurt to see if he wanted to take in a movie
sometime and for me to
even consider asking a man out was simply something I
did not do.
I checked my watch. It was still early, only about
2:00. I had already taken
the evidence that I had collected from Mike's place
over to the lab I used
down at the police station to be tested. The small red
splotch had especially
sparked my interest. I would have to wait to see what
developed. With spare
time on my hands, I had enough time to go home,
shower, and somehow found
myself in front of Maginty's.
I reached up and pulled the sunvisor down to check my
face in the mirror. Not
bad. I thought, giving my hair a quick finger comb.
Hobson should be so
lucky! Feeling suddenly foolish and vain for having
done this in public I
quickly pushed the visor back into place. What the
hell was happening to me?
Hobson had me doing all of this?
I drew in a nervous breath and got out of the car.
Pulling the hood of my coat
up I scurried in out of the rain, praying that
Hobson's cat had been replaced
with a stuffed one.
It was dimly lit inside of the bar. Soft music filled
the air, along with the
aroma of freshly baked pizza, hot pretzels and beer.
At one of the counters, a few of the customers had
gathered around, beer mugs in hand, their
faces tilted upward as they watched an afternoon
football game on the television mounted on the wall.
The place still looked good and despite the bad
weather, there were quite a
few people out. Hobson was doing all right for
himself.
I did a quick scan of the bar and spotted Marissa, his
business partner,
seated alone at a table next to the office. With her
head held high, her
fingers moved quickly over some documents on the table
in front of her. She
was reading something and seemed completely absorbed.
Peeling off my gloves, I made a beeline towards
her table, but before I could open my mouth to offer a
greeting, she stopped abruptly and tilted her head.
Staring straight ahead, a slow grin spread across her face.
"Brigatti," she smiled. It wasn't a question.
I was flabbergasted.
"How did you-? Ahh...n-never mind." I shook my
head, dismissing the question. I glanced down to
check my watch asking, instead, "How are
you, Marissa?"
"Just fine," she said. "A-And it was by your walk."
I glanced back up. "Excuse me?"
"In answer to your first question? I-I could tell that
it was you by the sound of your....walk," she said hesitantly
and blew out a breath as if ashamed for having said too much.
I stared at her for a moment. The woman simply amazed
me, although I wasn't sure if what she
had just revealed was a compliment or not.
Looking at her now, I could see why Hobson valued their
friendship. Despite her impairment, she seemed to be
very intelligent. A great asset to Hobson and
the business. She was also rather attractive.
She was smartly dressed in a crisp white blouse and
black skirt. Her skin was a shiny smooth, the
color of deep chocolate. Her hair was styled
differently every time I saw her. Today it was braided
in tiny braids, the sides pulled comfortably up behind her ear
and hung to her shoulders.
Her sightless eyes wavered slightly as she stared
past me, but I could detect the wheels of her
mind turning, probably pondering the reason for my
unexpected call.
"Hobson around?" I asked, tucking my gloves into my
pocket.
.
"G-Gary?" She stammered. "Well
he's --ahh---."
"It's okay, I know where it is. Thanks," I said
quickly, and without
hesitation, breezed past her through the office door.
I had been upstairs
enough times to know how to get to Hobson's loft. As I
made my way around the
two desks, I almost expected to see him asleep on the
sofa as I passed it and
made my way up the stairs in back.
It was quiet in the foyer at the top of the stairs. No
sign of that cat, thank
goodness. I paused just in front of the door and drew
in a deep breath.
Lifting a hand reluctantly, I knocked.
No answer.
I checked my watch, thinking if Hobson didn't answer
this time, I would leave. I waited a few
minutes longer, then tapped again.
This time, through the bumpy glass window, I could
see a soft figure moving
towards the door. The latched clicked and the door
opened slightly. Out peeked
a pretty brunette, clutching a large bath towel around
her petite frame, her wavy shoulder length hair dripping
wet as she made an attempt to move out of the way of the door.
Like a cold fist hitting me in the gut, I was
stunned. I should have known that Hobson
wouldn't be any different!
"I-I'm sorry, I thought you were Marissa," she said,
beads of water running from her bare shoulder as
she adjusted the towel.
Shocked, I felt my face flush. Whether it was from
embarrassment, or anger I don't know, but I tried hard
to reason the situation thinking, either this woman had just
gotten out of the shower, she and Hobson had just gotten
out of the shower, or Hobson had a big o hole in his roof, rain
was pouring in and the two of them had gotten drenched trying to
catch the drops in buckets! What a fool I was for coming here!
Trying to regain some measure of my composure, I cleared
my throat, and mustered up a strong, "Hi," all the while trying
not to look past her wet creamy shoulder for that dirty, no good,
two timing--
"...Gary?"
"Huh?" I blinked. Surely I hadn't just spoken that
thought aloud.
"I said you must be looking for Gary," she repeated.
I stared at her for a moment, conjuring up a mental
picture of Hobson still in the shower. Or
would he be in the bedroom by now?
I shook my head to clear it of the thought. "Maybe I
came at a bad time," I said.
"Gary's not here at the moment." she said, smoothing
back a wet strand of hair from her face. " I-I mean
he wasn't here when I got here this morning."
I stared at her for a moment before realizing
that I hadn't introduced myself yet and
stuck out a hand. "Brigatti. Ahh...private
investigator," I said, adding the 'investigator' part
in hopes of making this visit look like a business
one.
She looked flustered, adjusting the towel
awkwardly with her left hand
while reaching out a damp right hand and we shook. Looking
at her draped in Hobson's towel, she seemed about as
uncomfortable as I was. She followed my gaze glancing
down at her disrobed state and her cheeks tinted slightly,
"Gary and I are...old friends." she stammered nervously,
"I'm in town on business
and forgot my credit cards and cash. I needed a place
to freshen up so I
stopped by to sort of....borrow his... shower." She
bit her lip, realizing that she had probably given out more
information than was necessary. "My name's Meredith.
W-Would you like to come in and wait for him?"
"No--thanks." I said dryly wiping my now, damp hand down
the side of my coat. I could feel the heat rise to my face again as her words resonated round in my head.
In town on business. Oh sure! And...kind of friends? I'll
bet! And sort of borrowed his shower? What the
*hell* was that supposed to mean??! And no, I wouldn't
like to come in!
At that moment, I was pretty ticked, and could have
slugged somebody. Hobson preferably. I swallowed hard,
knowing that I needed to get grip. I mean, why the heck did
I care who Hobson bust suds with anyway?
"Did you say, private investigator?" she asked, wiping a
trickle of water from her eye.
"That's right," I answered rather smugly. "Ahh...look,
tell Hobson that I stopped by, huh? And that
there has been a change in ... plans."
"Plans?"
I had hit a nerve.
"Ahh...confidential," I said, wrinkling my nose at
her, "You know, police business and all. I'll contact
him later."
Turning to leave, my eyes dropped to the towel that she
clutched around her naked frame and I suggested tactfully,
"Maybe you should put something on that. Wouldn't want
you to catch cold." Flashing a quick smile, I turned on my
heel and stalked off. It seemed to take forever to get down the
flight of stairs I was so mad. Why the hell did I come here
anyway! If Hobson was seeing someone then, why would
he lead me on!
Everything was in a haze, as I made my way through the
office and out to the bar. Marissa was merely a blur as
I passed her on my way out.
"Thanks huh?" I called to her over my shoulder trying
hard to sound nonchalant
as I stormed out of the bar, slamming the door behind
me. I climbed into my BMW, gunned the engine and sped
off towards home.
By Candace Waters
Posted 2002
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 10
The morning was overcast and the traffic, heavy, as
I hit the expressway, headed south east of Chicago.
It was a good 45 minutes drive out to the beach. Due
to the morning commute and the rain, it had taken me
much longer to get there than I had expected.
Stanley Spiolie was waiting for me when I arrived.
I could see his tall muscular frame leaning against his
car, his arms folded across his chest. He glanced over
in my direction as I pulled up across the road in front
of the house. Smiling that charismatic smile of his,
he rose from his recline, straightening his pant leg as
he proceeded towards my car.
I got out of the car, grabbing the pouch that I carry with
me when I do my investigating work, and my flash light
from the glove compartment and walked across the road
to meet him.
"Ms Brigatt," he greeted with a smile. "So nice to see
you again."
I noticed that he was dressed more casually
this time in jeans, a green sweater and brown heavy
coat. The green sweater set off the green flecks in
his eyes.
"Please, call me Toni." I said.
"Toni," he smiled, his large gloved hand engulfing mine
with ease as we shook. There was a strong grip behind
his shake, his muscular arms were evident beneath his
coat sleeve that he had lifted many a jackhammer in his day.
We stood a moment, observing the little bungalow
which was surrounded by over hanging
branches of a eucalyptus tree.
"Very nice." I commented looking around. I had always
wanted a place near the beach.
"Mike sure loved it here," Stanley smiled. "It's not much,
but it was his home and he spent a lot of his time out
here."
He motioned forward, and we started towards the house,
the sound of our shoes crunching on the gravel path
of the road.
When we got to the house, Stanley paused momentarily
to up pull some weeds that had sprung up
along the cracks in the walkway.
"Sorry for such short notice." I apologized, watching
as he pulled up a few more of the prickly dandelions
before tossing them to the side.
"It's no problem." He assured me. " I haven't been
out here since ---" he hesitated for a moment, "well, you
know. Anyway, I'm glad that you got me out here. I hate
to see the place go to ruins."
I followed him up a flight of steps to the door. From
his belt, he unhooked a large ring that looked as though
it held a thousand keys rattling around on it. Fingering
quickly through them, he found the appropriate key,
slipped it into the lock and we inside.
It was deathly cold inside of the house, having stood
empty for months since the police's last search.
Looking around, the house appeared much larger than
I had expected. A large fireplace of black and white stone,
covered part of one wall. In the center of the room was
a black leather sofa which gave the place a masculine
feel. In front of the sofa was a black glass table, particles
of dust covered the top. The wet bar in the corner of the
room was the perfect touch for the neatly arranged,
bachelor pad. A sliding glass door in front of the couch led
out to the deck that faced out towards the beach.
I knew that the police and forensic people had already
done a thorough search
of the house and had gone over everything. The table
where Heather had found
the suicide note had been cleared of any papers and
everything had been taken
in as evidence.
As promised, I got started right away, beginning with
the small nook of a
kitchen. I did a quick check of everything--windows,
cupboard, sink--but found
nothing of importance.
My gaze followed the smoky gray carpeting that led
down a small hall space and
branched off into other rooms of the bungalow. To the
left were two rooms and
across the hall another. I noticed that right above
the baseboard of the
carpet was what looked like small flakes of red, and I
knelt down to take a
closer look.
Blood?
If so, how did forensics miss it? I removed a plastic
evidence bag that I
kept in my pouch, along with a small cotton swab. I
did a quick swipe of the
area, collecting what I could from before sealing the
entire swab in the
plastic bag, then tucked it into my pouch.
"Tedious work for a such a young lady like yourself,"
Stanley commented.
Unaware that Stanley had been watching, I turned to look up
at him. His back was to me as he examined the
frame of the front door.
"It can be challenging at times" I said, "but I like what I do."
I rose to my feet and stood for a moment, watching him
fiddle around with the jams of the door. It certainly
appeared that Stanley was the hands on type of guy, always
fixing things. I cleared my throat to get his attention and he
turned around to look at me.
"Sorry," he shrugged, and rose to his feet.
I smiled, " It's okay, I just wouldn't want to disturb what
may be left of any evidence..ah... you understand."
"Yes...yes I do," he nodded. "Maybe I should
wait outside?"
"It's really not necessary" I said. "It will just take a few
minutes."
"That's okay, I'll.. just...wait out here... out of
your way." He said,
motioning to the balcony. Fishing into his shirt
pocket for his pack of
cigarettes, he stepped outside onto the deck. Looking
at him, I could see what
Nancy found special about this gentle giant. Nancy was
sure one lucky lady.
I smiled, shaking my head, then proceeded towards the
first room and took a
peek inside. It was a bedroom, small in size yet large
enough to accommodate a
king-sized bed and a chest of drawers comfortably. I
walked towards the closet
and slid back one of the doors. Nothing surprising
there, just a few pieces
of men's clothing. I searched the closet space and
along the metal track at
the base of the door, then rose and pushed aside the
shirts to check the back
of the closet, with my flashlight.
Nothing.
I moved towards the large chifferobe and pulled open
the drawers, checking
them one by one. They, too, were empty. I closed it
up and stepped back out
into the hallway to check the other room which had
been used as Mike's office.
The large desk immediately drew my attention. I knew
that the police had
probably taken everything that may have been of value,
but I wanted to check
it anyway. It was one of those old antique roll-top
desks, very beautiful,
very classy, and when opened, very empty.
Why wasn't I surprised?
Stanley had grown quiet out on the balcony. I closed
the top and stepped back
out into the hallway to check on him, only to see what
he had found to occupy
his time. He was seated on a chair, puffing away
contentedly on his cigarette,
his head leaning back against the wall as he examined
the overhanging vines
that ran along the porch. Good. He seemed relaxed.
"So how many rooms in this place?" I called out,
going back into the room to
see what else might spark my interest. I pulled out a
pair of gloves from my
pouch and moved towards the window behind the large
desk.
"Well, if you count the john... five!" He called back.
I parted the curtain and ran the gloved hand carefully
along the windowsill,
picking up dirt, debris, and anything else that would
cling to it. I worked
fast, collecting all that I needed and turned from the
window. Pulling off the
glove, I placed it carefully into a separate plastic
bag and sealed the top.
"You all right in there?" Stanely's voice called out
suddenly from the porch.
"Doing just fine!" I called back, stepping out into
the hallway. "So, Stanley,
what kind of work do you do?" I asked.
He glanced over in my direction through the opened
door. "I own a small
construction business. But believe me, nothing quite
as interesting as what
you do," he chuckled.
"You think this is interesting?" I arched an eyebrow
at him. "You should see
me up late some nights, going over notes, examining
and reexamining the
evidence. Writing up my report is the worst." I
groaned and crossed the
hall to check the small bathroom off to the side.
I could hear his chuckle again, deep and infectious
and it made me smile.
I took a peek inside the bathroom, the fresh
smell of soap and
water hitting me in the nose . I glanced over at the
toilet and the small,
old-fashioned sink sitting beside it. I walked over
and pulled open the
medicine chest right above the sink. Inside were two
used tooth brushes a used
tube of tooth paste and a bottle of aspirin. I closed
the cabinet, then
squatted to open the door below the sink. A large
spider scurried out and I
jumped back. Arrruggh! I hate spiders almost as much
as I hate cats!
Dusting my hands, I rose from the floor, then moved
towards the bath tub and
paused. With the curtains drawn together as they were,
I was immediately
reminded of the movie Psycho movie, complete with
knife-wielding lunatic
slashing the shower curtain. This is silly! I thought
and quickly yanked the
curtain aside to find, dangling from a long twisted
rope, a hunk of soap. I
let out an unexpected laugh. I had always hated those
things! But I suppose
it was better than finding Norman Bates staring out at
me. My outbursts
provoked a curious inquiry from Stanley.
"You okay? Need my help" He mused.
"Oh..no. Everythings...fine," I called over my shoulder, feeling
utterly foolish. Actually, I really did need help. The kind
provided by the nice men in the white coats.
I looked around the tub, seeing little more than
half-empty bottles of shower
gel in a caddy. I reached over to touch the soap on a
rope, and was quite
surprised to find it slightly sticky. A washcloth hung
around the neck of the
shower head, and I was even more surprised to find
that it wasn't
stiff, nor was it completely dry. Obviously, someone
had been here since
Mike's disappearance.
I turned from the bathtub and walked back into the
living room, joining Stanley out on the balcony.
Upon hearing my steps, he turned around.
"Find anything of significance?" he asked.
Looking round, the view of the beach was
breathtaking and I drew in a peaceful breath
"Yeah." I said, " That I am going to have to start
saving up my lunch money to buy myself a place
like this."
He chuckled.
"So how long have you been in this...profession?" he asked.
" Since going solo? Not long. About a year and a
half." I said, tilting my
face up to the sky. Up above, seagulls circled about,
their wings spread wide,
as they floated gracefully across the bleak morning
sky.
"It is quite relaxing isn't it?" Stanley said.
"Yes it is," I sighed, clutching my coat together to
shield against a gust of
wind that drifted in suddenly from the ocean. Both of us grew
quiet for a moment,
enjoying the tranquillity of it all. I personally
could have stood there for
days just enjoying the view, but I knew that I had to
get back to the business
at hand.
"So, tell me about Mike," I asked abruptly turning to
face him.
Surprised by the sudden question, Stanley turned to
look at me. I suppose he
felt that we had already gone over that whole subject
with Nancy at their home
the other day. If he thought it, he didn't let on.
Looking thoughtful, he
pulled out another cigarette and placed it between his
lips.
"Mike was a good man. Young and impressionable." He
drew in deeply, then
exhaled in a cloud of smoke. "He was in love. After
Nancy told him about
removing him from the will....I suppose he lost it
after that. I-I don't
know. "
"Did he know that he was to inherit all of the money
after he married?"
"Yes, he knew it. But knowing Mike, he loved his
sister and would have done
right by her. "
"Meaning?"
"Well, Mike felt bad about what his father did, guilty
somehow. He didn't want to exclude Nancy from the
inheritance. He was really down to earth. He could
have bought an expensive home to live in, but he
preferred to live a simple life. This place was the first
place he ever purchased."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I guess you could say it was his first big invest-
ment." he smiled lighting up another cigarette.
I smiled.
"Mike loved his sister, Toni. He would have thought
nothing of splitting his
wealth with her. They were siblings, for god's sake.
It's just how he was.
Nancy was afraid, though. She knew the type of woman
Heather was, and was
afraid that she might...." He hesitated a moment.
"Somehow persuade him to keep it?" I ventured.
He glanced at me briefly then added, "Or squander it all away."
I simply nodded.
The crashing sound of the water hitting the rocks
drew our attention back to the beach. I held my hair away
from my face and we turned watching quietly as the waves
rolled in splashing white against the shore. Soon the water was
calm again. Over head, skies were dark, promising another
down pour. I felt a chill and pulled my coat tighter around me
for warmth
"I worry about Nancy though." Stanley spoke,
his voice sounding faint in the wind beside me.
I turned to look at him. "Why is that?"
"It's really tearing her apart. I mean, she still believes
Mike may be alive somehow and can't deal with the fact
that....he's gone."
"Do you think he's alive." I asked, "I mean...the notes
and all. What do you think happened to him?"
"Personally?" He asked. "I think it might be possible
that Mike..." he paused briefly to look at me, trying
hard to choose his next phrase carefully. "That he did
take his life. He was heartbroken when Nancy
expressed her disapproval of Heather. She was the love
of his life."
"But Nancy seems very certain that he's alive." I frowned,
perplexed that the two of them could be so divided on
the issue.
"I know...I-I mean, I don't know." he shrugged running a
hand over his face. He drew in a tired breath then glanced
over at me. " That's why hired you."
I studied his face for a moment, feeling suddenly pressured
to work a miracle. " I'll do what I can." I said.
He reached up fishing in his coat pocket for his lighter
and something white fluttered out onto the deck.
I glanced down. Laying beside Stanley's
large size 14's was a 3x4 index card and I bent to
pick it up. Easy Rider, the card read.
"You into bikes?" I asked handing him the card.
He seemed embarrassed. A flush rose up to cover his
face as he reached over, taking the card. "Yes...yes I
am. It's a..ahh motorcycle club that I belong too." He
said, slipping the card back into his pocket. "Thanks."
"Easy Rider huh?" I teased.
"My only vise besides these." He confessed with a grin,
holding up a partially finished cigarette. I laughed.
"Was Mike into motorcycles too?" I asked.
"No. He wasn't into anything of that sort. I tried to get
him to buy one, but it just wasn't his thing I guess.
Nancy despises it. You know, afraid of our being hurt."
I smiled remembering the very first time I had ridden on one.
My first highschool boyfriend used to take me out for a spin
on his, much to Frank's and Rosette's dismay. But I was
hooked after that and could actually ride a pretty mean bike
if I must say so myself. Later on after I joined the academy,
Frank used to tease me about it saying that it was probably
the reason I had become a cop.
"Do you take many motorcycle road trips?" I asked.
"Actually, not as many as I would like." Stanley chuckled.
"It's not Nancy's idea of fun."
I smiled again, taking one last look around before
stepping back from the
railing of the porch. "Well," I drew in a long breath, "I
suppose I'm through."
"So soon?" Stanley took a last drag from his
cigarette before dropping it on
the ground and pressing it out with the toe of his
large boot.
"Hey, I said I'd only be a moment didn't I?" I boasted
proudly.
Checking to make sure that I had everything I had
brought in with me, we
walked towards the door. I thought about the soap and
wash cloth, then turned
to Stanley who was locking the glass door to the
balcony.
"Has anyone used this bungalow or been up here since
the police?" I asked.
Stanley turned to me, blinking thoughtfully. "Not as
far as I know," he said,
shaking his head. " I mean, the place has been locked
up ever sense. I
haven't even been up here. Why do you ask?"
I shrugged, shaking my head. "No reason."
Taking a last survey of my supplies, and finding
everything accounted for, I
looked up at him. "Ready?"
"Ready when you are, little lady."
He opened the door, and we stepped outside into the
brisk air. My search had
only taken about thirty minutes. Stanley had been very
cooperative and was
such a gentle man with a spirit that would melt your
heart. Nancy was
fortunate to have him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 11
I pulled my BMW up in front of Maginty's, turned off
the engine, and sat for
a moment, wondering what the *hell* I was doing there.
I could not believe that Hobson had mistaken my threat
as an invitation for a
date. Nevertheless, he had looked so vulnerable
standing there when I pulled
off from the cafe' that morning, I decided that maybe
I had been a little rude
to him. Okay, maybe I was just down right nasty and I
supposed it wouldn't
hurt to drop by to give him a decent 'thank you'.
After all, he had saved my
life at that department store. I suppose that while I
was here, it also
wouldn't hurt to see if he wanted to take in a movie
sometime and for me to
even consider asking a man out was simply something I
did not do.
I checked my watch. It was still early, only about
2:00. I had already taken
the evidence that I had collected from Mike's place
over to the lab I used
down at the police station to be tested. The small red
splotch had especially
sparked my interest. I would have to wait to see what
developed. With spare
time on my hands, I had enough time to go home,
shower, and somehow found
myself in front of Maginty's.
I reached up and pulled the sunvisor down to check my
face in the mirror. Not
bad. I thought, giving my hair a quick finger comb.
Hobson should be so
lucky! Feeling suddenly foolish and vain for having
done this in public I
quickly pushed the visor back into place. What the
hell was happening to me?
Hobson had me doing all of this?
I drew in a nervous breath and got out of the car.
Pulling the hood of my coat
up I scurried in out of the rain, praying that
Hobson's cat had been replaced
with a stuffed one.
It was dimly lit inside of the bar. Soft music filled
the air, along with the
aroma of freshly baked pizza, hot pretzels and beer.
At one of the counters, a few of the customers had
gathered around, beer mugs in hand, their
faces tilted upward as they watched an afternoon
football game on the television mounted on the wall.
The place still looked good and despite the bad
weather, there were quite a
few people out. Hobson was doing all right for
himself.
I did a quick scan of the bar and spotted Marissa, his
business partner,
seated alone at a table next to the office. With her
head held high, her
fingers moved quickly over some documents on the table
in front of her. She
was reading something and seemed completely absorbed.
Peeling off my gloves, I made a beeline towards
her table, but before I could open my mouth to offer a
greeting, she stopped abruptly and tilted her head.
Staring straight ahead, a slow grin spread across her face.
"Brigatti," she smiled. It wasn't a question.
I was flabbergasted.
"How did you-? Ahh...n-never mind." I shook my
head, dismissing the question. I glanced down to
check my watch asking, instead, "How are
you, Marissa?"
"Just fine," she said. "A-And it was by your walk."
I glanced back up. "Excuse me?"
"In answer to your first question? I-I could tell that
it was you by the sound of your....walk," she said hesitantly
and blew out a breath as if ashamed for having said too much.
I stared at her for a moment. The woman simply amazed
me, although I wasn't sure if what she
had just revealed was a compliment or not.
Looking at her now, I could see why Hobson valued their
friendship. Despite her impairment, she seemed to be
very intelligent. A great asset to Hobson and
the business. She was also rather attractive.
She was smartly dressed in a crisp white blouse and
black skirt. Her skin was a shiny smooth, the
color of deep chocolate. Her hair was styled
differently every time I saw her. Today it was braided
in tiny braids, the sides pulled comfortably up behind her ear
and hung to her shoulders.
Her sightless eyes wavered slightly as she stared
past me, but I could detect the wheels of her
mind turning, probably pondering the reason for my
unexpected call.
"Hobson around?" I asked, tucking my gloves into my
pocket.
.
"G-Gary?" She stammered. "Well
he's --ahh---."
"It's okay, I know where it is. Thanks," I said
quickly, and without
hesitation, breezed past her through the office door.
I had been upstairs
enough times to know how to get to Hobson's loft. As I
made my way around the
two desks, I almost expected to see him asleep on the
sofa as I passed it and
made my way up the stairs in back.
It was quiet in the foyer at the top of the stairs. No
sign of that cat, thank
goodness. I paused just in front of the door and drew
in a deep breath.
Lifting a hand reluctantly, I knocked.
No answer.
I checked my watch, thinking if Hobson didn't answer
this time, I would leave. I waited a few
minutes longer, then tapped again.
This time, through the bumpy glass window, I could
see a soft figure moving
towards the door. The latched clicked and the door
opened slightly. Out peeked
a pretty brunette, clutching a large bath towel around
her petite frame, her wavy shoulder length hair dripping
wet as she made an attempt to move out of the way of the door.
Like a cold fist hitting me in the gut, I was
stunned. I should have known that Hobson
wouldn't be any different!
"I-I'm sorry, I thought you were Marissa," she said,
beads of water running from her bare shoulder as
she adjusted the towel.
Shocked, I felt my face flush. Whether it was from
embarrassment, or anger I don't know, but I tried hard
to reason the situation thinking, either this woman had just
gotten out of the shower, she and Hobson had just gotten
out of the shower, or Hobson had a big o hole in his roof, rain
was pouring in and the two of them had gotten drenched trying to
catch the drops in buckets! What a fool I was for coming here!
Trying to regain some measure of my composure, I cleared
my throat, and mustered up a strong, "Hi," all the while trying
not to look past her wet creamy shoulder for that dirty, no good,
two timing--
"...Gary?"
"Huh?" I blinked. Surely I hadn't just spoken that
thought aloud.
"I said you must be looking for Gary," she repeated.
I stared at her for a moment, conjuring up a mental
picture of Hobson still in the shower. Or
would he be in the bedroom by now?
I shook my head to clear it of the thought. "Maybe I
came at a bad time," I said.
"Gary's not here at the moment." she said, smoothing
back a wet strand of hair from her face. " I-I mean
he wasn't here when I got here this morning."
I stared at her for a moment before realizing
that I hadn't introduced myself yet and
stuck out a hand. "Brigatti. Ahh...private
investigator," I said, adding the 'investigator' part
in hopes of making this visit look like a business
one.
She looked flustered, adjusting the towel
awkwardly with her left hand
while reaching out a damp right hand and we shook. Looking
at her draped in Hobson's towel, she seemed about as
uncomfortable as I was. She followed my gaze glancing
down at her disrobed state and her cheeks tinted slightly,
"Gary and I are...old friends." she stammered nervously,
"I'm in town on business
and forgot my credit cards and cash. I needed a place
to freshen up so I
stopped by to sort of....borrow his... shower." She
bit her lip, realizing that she had probably given out more
information than was necessary. "My name's Meredith.
W-Would you like to come in and wait for him?"
"No--thanks." I said dryly wiping my now, damp hand down
the side of my coat. I could feel the heat rise to my face again as her words resonated round in my head.
In town on business. Oh sure! And...kind of friends? I'll
bet! And sort of borrowed his shower? What the
*hell* was that supposed to mean??! And no, I wouldn't
like to come in!
At that moment, I was pretty ticked, and could have
slugged somebody. Hobson preferably. I swallowed hard,
knowing that I needed to get grip. I mean, why the heck did
I care who Hobson bust suds with anyway?
"Did you say, private investigator?" she asked, wiping a
trickle of water from her eye.
"That's right," I answered rather smugly. "Ahh...look,
tell Hobson that I stopped by, huh? And that
there has been a change in ... plans."
"Plans?"
I had hit a nerve.
"Ahh...confidential," I said, wrinkling my nose at
her, "You know, police business and all. I'll contact
him later."
Turning to leave, my eyes dropped to the towel that she
clutched around her naked frame and I suggested tactfully,
"Maybe you should put something on that. Wouldn't want
you to catch cold." Flashing a quick smile, I turned on my
heel and stalked off. It seemed to take forever to get down the
flight of stairs I was so mad. Why the hell did I come here
anyway! If Hobson was seeing someone then, why would
he lead me on!
Everything was in a haze, as I made my way through the
office and out to the bar. Marissa was merely a blur as
I passed her on my way out.
"Thanks huh?" I called to her over my shoulder trying
hard to sound nonchalant
as I stormed out of the bar, slamming the door behind
me. I climbed into my BMW, gunned the engine and sped
off towards home.