The Lady Who Sang High: A Reed Ferguson Mystery (A Private Investigator Mystery Series - Crime Suspense Thriller Book 7) (6 page)

“That’ll work.” We walked slowly back to her office. She grabbed her purse, but didn’t bother with her laptop. “Thanks for your help.”

“No problem.”

I had parked in a small lot down the street from Blue Light. We had to walk past the alley, and I glanced down it. The police were gone, leaving behind darkness, and death.

It was after midnight when we left, and I drove her home.

I got up early and showered, wanting to be ready when Jodie called. Willie was home, so I fixed breakfast for us while she was in the shower. She was a nurse at St. Joseph’s Hospital, just east of our neighborhood, and her schedule varied from week to week. Since her house fire, she’d been working a lot, even double shifts, but today she had a rare day off and was going to run some errands.

“Mm, smells good,” she said when she walked into the kitchen.

I’d made Spanish omelets and had coffee brewing. I wasn’t a great cook, but eggs were easy. And since Willie had been staying with me, I’d learned some cooking tips from her, and I’d become more adventurous in my cuisine.
Good Lord, was I being domesticated?

I served our plates and we sat down at the table.

“You look tired,” she said as she sipped her coffee.

“Late night.” I am not a morning person, and the coffee had yet to kick in.

We ate in silence for a bit.

“Want to tell me about it?”

I did. At times she smiled and laughed, like when I told her how clueless I was about the many weed strains and their effects. But when I described Jodie, she drew upon her intuitive compassion, and made sympathetic sounds. “It’s going to be hard on her,” Willie said.

“Uh-huh. She may run the store well, but she doesn’t seem to know a lot about what was going on with Jude or what he did. She trusted him completely, and now she’s questioning that, and it stings.”

“Does she have family to help out?”

“No, it was just her and Jude.”

“So she’ll have to take care of the funeral, too. What a nightmare.”

“I don’t want to make light of the situation,” I said. “But I have to confess, when I walked in on her and she was stoned and singing to the plants, all I could think was ‘The Lady Who
Sang High’
– get it?” I could tell by the blank look on her face that she
didn’t
get it.

“Sounds like one of those movies you like.”

“Oh, honey,” I smiled. “We do still have some work to do, don’t we?” She threw me a dirty look, but I ignored it and went on. “It’s a pun on a famous film noir by Orson Welles – I
have
told you about Orson Welles, haven’t I? He directed and starred in a film noir called
The Lady from Shanghai
. Shang-hai? Sang high?” I overemphasized the words, hoping it would now be clear.

She chuckled. “Oh, now I get it. That’s really bad. I mean, it’s so good it’s bad. Or maybe it’s so bad it’s good.”

“Only, Jodie’s no Rita Hayworth,” I said, continuing my unsolicited tutorial on film noir.

“I hate to disappoint you, but no one is.”

Hm. She surprised me with her knowledge of Hayworth and with her opinion. I shrugged and said, “Eh, Rita-Schmita. I’ll take you over her any day.”

“Oh, aren’t you sweet.” She ruffled her hair with her fingers to dry it. I loved watching her do that. She was so unselfconscious about it, which made it all the more enticing. “What’re your plans for the day?”

“What?” I was still distracted by her hair. Such a pleasant distraction.

“I said, what are your plans for the day?”

“I’ll be home late,” I said. “I’m working the afternoon shift.”

“You’re still undercover?”

“For the time being. Last thing I want is for the killer to know a detective is poking around.”

“You think one of the employees killed Jude?”

I shrugged. “It’s as likely as anything. And that’s what I’ll be working on.”

“Yes, as you sweep floors and take out trash.” She got up and planted a long, Rita Hayworth-y kiss right on my mouth. Nothing unselfconscious about that! “Look on the bright side. It’s a living if this detecting thing doesn’t work out.”

“How can you even suggest such a thing,” I whined as she put our dishes in the sink and walked out of the room. She sounded vaguely like my mother, which unsettled me just a little. My dear, sweet mother, who never let me forget that she thought my profession was dangerous and that I should do something else.

“Don’t forget, my parents will be here next week,” I called out to her. “On Wednesday.”

“That’s why I’m going to the store,” she called back. “I want to look for some new tops and jeans. And don’t forget we have the inspection of my house next week, too. On Tuesday. And the insurance people will be there, too.”

“I won’t forget,” I said.

Willie left to do her errands, so I cleaned up the rest of the dishes and then went into my office and called Cal.

“What’s up, O Great Detective?” He used his standard greeting for me.

“Things have taken a turn.”

“I can hear it in your voice. What happened?”

I told him everything. “I’m waiting for Jodie to call, and then I’ll search Jude’s apartment.”

“In the meantime, you need something from me, right?”

“You got it. First, have you found out anything about Jude, Wes, and Heath?”

“Only Jude.” Clicking noises burst through the phone as he began typing. “He wasn’t making very much at Blue Light, but that’s probably because he invested everything into the business. He had half a million in 401k and other investments, but he sunk all that into Blue Light.”

That fit with what Jodie had said.

“There’s a lot I can send you on his financials with Blue Light,” he continued, “but from a cursory look, nothing seems out of the ordinary. He had a little over ten thousand in credit card debt. Not extraordinary if you believe what the media says about average household debt. No second on his house, paid his bills on time.”

“So no reason for him to be killed.”

“Right.”

“Great work,” I said. “Next, there’s a computer in Jude’s office that’s not hooked up to the network or Internet, so you won’t be able to use your usual techniques to hack into it.”

“I’m not a hacker, I’m a ‘Clandestine Information Specialist’,” he said, using a phrase he’d coined not too long ago.

I laughed, then suggested something I knew he wouldn’t like. “So you’ll have to come down to the office and see if you can break into the computer.”

“No.” He groaned. If there was one thing he hated, it was leaving his secluded spot in the foothills west of Denver.

“If I can’t discover a password, you’ll have to. I need to get on that computer to see if Jude was hiding anything.”

“Okay, Sherlock. How will you explain my presence there?”

“I don’t know.” I thought for a second. “We can’t say you’re a computer consultant because that might make Wes and Heath suspicious.”

“Why?”

“Someone’s looking at Jude’s computer right after he dies? Doesn’t look good.”

“Good point. Guess that blows your plans and I won’t be able to help.”

“You don’t get off that easily,” I said. “I’ll figure something out later.”

Another groan, and then he said, “Is that his only computer?”

“No, there’s another one that Jodie says is hooked up to their network. We tried some passwords, but no luck.”

“What’s the company?”

“Blue Light,” I said.

I could hear him typing. “Found it. I should be able to hack into it and I’ll let you know what I find.”

“I thought you don’t ‘hack’,” I said.

He laughed. “
I
can say it; you can’t.”

“Be careful, okay? I’m undercover there.”

“Please. This is a piece of cake.”

Given that Cal had somehow found his way into government sites, my caution wasn’t really necessary.

Then I heard Bogie’s voice. “People lose teeth talking like that. If you want to hang around, you'll be polite.” Ah, my new cell phone ringtone – a sound bite from
The Maltese Falcon
. I couldn’t decide if I liked it as much as the other one I’d used for so long, “Such a lot of guns around town, and so few brains,” from
The Big Sleep
.

“That’s Jodie,” I said. “I’ll touch base with you later.”

“Hi, Reed.” Tired didn’t even begin to describe Jodie’s voice.

“Are you up for this?” I asked.

“Not really, but it’s got to be done.” She gave me his address. “Can you meet me there at ten? I’m going to get a cab back to my car first.” Right. I’d driven her home, so her car was still at Blue Light.

I checked the computer clock. That would give me a half hour. “That’ll work,” I said. “See you there.”

I ended the call and headed out the door.

Jude’s house was just north of the Tech Center, a large business complex southeast of downtown Denver. The neighborhood was full of huge, expensive houses with well-manicured lawns that seemed immune to the dry summer heat.
He’s done very well for himself
, I thought. Or maybe he was mortgaged to the hilt.

I parked on the street and walked up the driveway, past an older-model Toyota Camry. I rang the bell and a moment later Jodie opened the door.

She wore khakis and a white blouse, and her hair was tousled as if she hadn’t even combed it. “Come on in.” She tried for some semblance of calm, but her voice quavered and her eyes were puffy and red, and it wasn’t just from exhaustion or smoking weed.

I stepped into a large foyer and she shut the door, then walked slowly into a large living room and sat down on a black leather couch. Opposite it was a matching loveseat. The walls and carpet were tan, the coffee and end tables were oak, and a single painting of a desert scene hung on the wall above the couch. Like his desk at work, everything was neat and tidy and told us nothing about him.

“Have you been to Blue Light yet?” I remained standing.

She nodded. “Yes. They were shocked.”

I wondered what the scuttlebutt would be about me, the new employee. I doubted any of them would think I had something to do with Jude’s death, but they might think I had brought bad luck with me.

“Were Wes and Heath there?” I asked.

“Yes. They both came in early and we had a meeting. They’re already into damage control.” She scowled. “I guess I should’ve expected that, but neither one seemed to care much about Jude as a person. It was all business.”

Another blow to the vision of her brother that she’d built up in her mind.

“Is there a way I can talk to them?” I asked. “Something I could do naturally so I could see what they’re thinking about the murder?”

“Both of them come around the warehouse and check on things. I can have you spend some time back there.”

“That’ll work.” Now I’d just need to finesse my conversations with them so they wouldn’t get suspicious of me.

“I talked to the police again,” she said dully. “I’m not even sure when I can plan the funeral because they need to do an autopsy, and they don’t know how long it will take.”

“I’m sorry.” We sat in silence for a minute and then I glanced around and noticed Jude’s home office across the foyer. “I need to check in there.”

“Sure.” She wearily got to her feet and I followed her. “What do you think you’ll find?”

“I don’t know,” I said as I surveyed the room.

Bookcases lined one wall, but they were sparsely filled with a few framed photos and knick knacks. I didn’t see a single book. The other walls were bare except for a modern print behind a mahogany desk. I walked around the desk and sat down in a wingback chair.

A monitor sat on the desk, but no computer. It made sense since his laptop was in his office at Blue Light. I picked up a framed picture of younger versions of Jude and Jodie along with a couple who I assumed was their parents. They all wore wide smiles. Happier times.

“Our parents,” Jodie explained, choking back a sob.

I nodded and set it back down. Nothing else was on the desk, so I tried the drawers. One had assorted office supplies and a stack of new DVDs. Another was a file drawer. I ran a hand over the top, looking at the labels. Bank statements, mortgage information, bills, investment statements. I pulled out that file.

She cleared her throat and regained her composure. “What’s that?”

“Old 401k statements,” I said as I rifled through them. “Nothing new.”

“I think he drained all of his accounts when we started Blue Light.”

I silently concurred, not telling her that Cal had confirmed that. I glanced through all the files, and at the back, I found an unlabeled one. I pulled it out. Jodie peered over my shoulder as I opened it. Some pamphlets with marijuana information, a spreadsheet with dollar amounts and dates, and a paper with a list with Spanish words on it.

I pointed at the spreadsheet. “Does this mean anything to you?”

She took the spreadsheet and studied it, shook her head. “Maybe it’s projections of what we’ll make.”

“But those dates are in the past.”

She shrugged, then read the other page. “This is a list of the drug cartels.”

“Was he doing a study on them?”

“It’s possible. There’s always worry about how much they can undercut our business. They have their hands in everything.” She glanced at her phone. “Do you want to check out the rest of the house? If so, we’d better get going because I need to get back to work.”

“Can I take the file with me?”

“I guess.”

“It’ll be safe with me,” I said in response to her mistrustful tone.

“Come on.” She waved a hand and I followed her into the foyer and upstairs. On the right was a large master bedroom with a king-sized bed and dark furniture, walk-in closets and a full master bath. As I expected from Jude, nothing was out of place, no trash or papers lying about. The bed was neatly made and the walls were bare. I quickly went through the nightstand drawers, glanced in the closet and then went into the bathroom. I glanced around and checked the cabinet behind the mirror. Nothing unusual, just toiletries.

Jodie gnawed at her lip. “Is this really necessary?”

“Yes,” I said.

I opened the walk-in closet and ran my hand over his hanging clothes. A black carry-on bag was lying on the floor, neatly packed with some shirts, shorts, a pair of slacks, and toiletries. “Was he planning a trip?”

“He sometimes would head up to the mountains for the weekend. I wish you wouldn’t do this.”

I stepped past her and headed into the hallway. “What if there’s some clue around here that will point to his killer?”

Irritation at my snooping had replaced her grief. She crossed her arms. “Have you found any?”

“Clues don’t always jump out at you,” I said. “Although it would be nice if they did,” I added under my breath.

We walked down the hall and I quickly searched two other bedrooms. One had a bed and nightstand in it, the other a weight set and stationary bike. No clues in either of them…at least any that I saw.

She was getting impatient, so I hurried through the rest of the house. A family room by the kitchen was sparse, with another leather couch and a flat-screen TV hung on the wall opposite. I found myself envious of the basement man cave, complete with pool and poker tables, bar, two flat-screen TVs on opposite walls, and a temperature-controlled walk-in cigar humidor. It seemed to be the only room with any personality to it at all.

I hunted around, mostly just admiring the room, and then we went back upstairs to the kitchen.

“This is difficult,” she said as she placed her hands on the granite countertop. “Exposing Jude this way.”

“I know,” I sympathized, although I hadn’t felt as if we’d exposed anything.

I walked over to a breakfast nook and stared out through a big bay window. The backyard was expansive, with a tall maple tree that bathed the lawn in shadows and there was a rock garden in one corner. A large shed sat in the other corner, the kind that looked more like a small cottage than a place for storage. I leaned close to the glass.

“Is the window on that shed covered up?”

Jodie strolled over. “I don’t know.”

She opened the sliding glass door and we stepped outside. The maple kept the growing heat at bay as I headed across the yard. I got to the shed and scrutinized the window. Sure enough, cardboard had been taped tightly over the window from the inside. I tried the door. Locked. I turned to Jodie.

“I don’t have a key,” she was already saying. “Did you see any when you were searching the house?”

I shook my head. “Let’s check around the kitchen again, and the garage. People usually keep shed keys within easy access.” Unless they were hiding something in them.

We hurried back in the house, searched the kitchen drawers, and hunted around for places where he might’ve hung the key. We came up empty so we went through a short hall, past a laundry room, and into the three-car garage.

Lawn equipment and a snow blower took up space at the far end, and two bicycles sat nearby, but no cars. A short workbench lined part of the back wall, and cheap cabinets hung above. I rummaged around in tool boxes on the workbench and in the cabinets, but found nothing.

“Where would Jude keep the key?” I muttered.

“I don’t – wait.” She slapped her forehead. “His car’s still parked at work. Maybe the shed key is with his other keys.”

That seemed like a good guess, but it had me wondering. What was in that shed?

“Okay,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment. “Check for it when you get to work and we’ll come back if we find it. Otherwise I may break the lock.”

That made her shudder. Then she pulled out her phone. “Wes is texting me. I need to get back to Blue Light.”

I nodded and followed her through the house, then waited while she locked up. “You’ll come in at noon, right?”

“Yep,” I said. “I’m going to get something to eat first. And that way we don’t show up together.”

“Right. You’re just an employee,” she reminded herself. “I’ll see you there soon.”

She got in the Camry and I waved as she drove off.

I stood in the driveway for a moment, tempted to go break into the shed now. But I decided not to commit that crime, and I strolled to my car and went in search of a quick bite to eat before I had to start my shift at Blue Light.