Tracking A Shadow: A Jarvis Mann Detective Novel Page 7

“All you can do is tell them,” I answered. “There is no explanation or reason for it and nothing you could have done to prevent it. Just some sick bastard’s doing.”

  I decided to leave out the part about the back door being left unlocked. It might have been a simple oversight by her and certainly was an error on mine. She felt bad enough, and up until this point I was having my doubts about someone shadowing her. But this seemed to corroborate what she feared.

  “Was it because of me that he was killed that way. Was it a statement?”

  I couldn’t answer that one, but you had to wonder. If it was the stalker, were they sending a message that they could get to her anywhere at any time? Were they escalating things? Like Mallard said, it might have been a burglar but that seemed a reach, as nothing appeared to have been taken.

  “I’ll call your neighbors for you. I’ll tell them what happened.”

  “No, I’ll do it. I just need some time to gather myself. It’s my responsibility.”

  I nodded my head and left her to work through it. I headed towards the kitchen to watch what was going on, trying to stay out of the way. One technician was taking lots of pictures, another dusting for prints, but likely to only find Emily’s and mine. It was doubtful the person wasn’t wearing gloves. One of the Animal Control officers was bagging up Opus to take him away, while another was speaking to Detective Mallard.

  “It looks like the dog might have bitten the culprit,” I heard him say. “We found some material in his mouth, along with skin and blood. Could be used to match up if we find the bastard. Your tech guys bagged it for evidence.”

  “Thanks,” said Mallard. “You can take him away when you’re ready. We got what we needed.”

  “Just let us know what to do with the poor pooch. Whether they want us to cremate him or dispose of him.”

  “She was dog-sitting. It’s the neighbors’, and they are out of town. I’ll have them contact you once she tells them. Leave us your card.”

  As they carried Opus away I felt quite sad. It wasn’t something I foresaw would happen. Sometimes you can’t predict the future, but this one threw me. It certainly motivated me even more to find whoever did this. And if Opus did leave his mark on that person, I might be able to spot the wound.

  I headed back to where Emily was and saw she was on her cell phone, crying. She had broken the news and it wasn’t easy for her. I heard her finish up, saying that she’d be here to see them when they returned. The plan was for them to come back early to grieve for their family member.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said as she finished her call. “You’re going to need a place to stay tonight. I don’t think it’s safe here. Do you have someone you can contact?” I looked at the time and it was now close to midnight.

  “I don’t want to bother anyone this late. I’ll just find a hotel.”

  “No, not tonight,” I answered. “You shouldn’t be alone. You can stay at my place and sleep in my bed while I take the sofa. Tomorrow we can try to sort through what all has happened.”

  She didn’t argue and went to pack a few things. I checked with Mallard, and he said it was OK to leave. They would be there a while longer and they’d lock up. The kitchen area was a crime scene and would remain so for a few days. I gave him my card and told him to call me if he had any news or needed to ask us more questions.

  “I didn’t know Homicide handled dog murders?” I asked him.

  “We do it all these days. For me, it’s worse when it’s dog. Don’t see it that often. I’ve become desensitized to human death. Kids and dogs are the worst crimes I deal with. I’ll go home and hug my dogs tonight.”

  Emily returned with a bag, and we went back to my place. There was no small talk this time on the drive. I had my gun with me when I entered, as I turned on the lights and went room to room. I was being overly cautious, even paranoid, but I didn’t care. All looked good, and I poured Emily a shot of whiskey and gave her two Benadryl to help her relax.

  “Is it OK if I take a shower?” she asked.

  “Sure.” I showed her where everything was. Fortunately, I kept the place pretty clean. Neatness was one of my vices. Dirty clothes were always put in the hamper, bathroom was cleaned weekly, vacuuming done regularly. I was not your normal bachelor. I took pride in my home. Past women in my life often asked if I paid a maid service to keep it tidy. It seemed surprising to them that a man could keep his residence so pristine.

  Once Emily finished she came out clean and dry, wearing pink pajamas. With no make-up and wet hair, she still looked pretty. She had one more shot of whiskey and went off to bed, looking extremely worn out. I stripped down to boxers and did my best to get comfortable on the sofa, but I don’t think it mattered much, as rest was difficult and it was hard to shake the vision of Opus. After an hour of no sleep I also took a couple shots of whiskey and two Benadryl, and finally fell asleep with my gun close at hand.

  Chapter 11

  I awoke at 7AM with a splitting headache and sore back. I had at least slept once the whiskey and Benadryl kicked in. I got up and took three Advil and found my cell phone. I called the number for Sparks Builders and left a message that I wouldn’t be able to make the 9AM appointment and to call me to reschedule. I doubted that would endear me to Mr. Sparks, but I really didn’t care much after last night.

  I walked into my bedroom to find Emily was still sleeping. I grabbed some clean clothes and quickly showered and shaved, without waking her up somehow. I went to the kitchen to survey what I had to make for breakfast, as I was starving. There was eggs, bacon, bread for toast, milk and some orange juice. I was in cholesterol heaven and figured I’d impress my client with my cooking skills. At least when it came to breakfast, I could whip up eggs with the best of them.

  Emily finally awoke around 8AM and walked into the living room a little startled by the time. “Oh my, I’ll be late for work!”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I answered. “They will be fine without you. Just call Jeanine and explain what happened. She can handle things today.”

  “But I have clients to meet with!” she stated. “Very important clients!”

  “Nothing more urgent than having a good breakfast,” I answered. “At least let me make you some eggs and bacon. You have to be hungry since you didn’t have dinner last night.”

  “You are right, I am famished. Oh my, the food is still sitting in the kitchen. The ice cream will have melted and the chicken will stink up the house.”

  “It’s fine. I put it away once the techs said it was OK to touch things. Didn’t want you to come home to ants everywhere. How do you like your eggs?”

  “Over medium?”

  “I can handle that. How about bacon, toast and OJ?”

  She nodded and sat down at the small table I had in the kitchen with two chairs. I got out a pan and began to heat it up. The bacon was cooked via a bacon maker in the microwave. So much healthier, they said in the commercials. I wasn’t sure if it was that much better for me but I liked the taste instead of fried. The four eggs were cracked, sizzling in the pan and flipped, the toast buttered with raspberry jelly, the bacon crisp and hot. I placed all the food on two plates along with two glasses of OJ that finished off the carton, and I joined her at the table.

  Now, it had been a while since I’d served a meal to a woman at my place, and I don’t recall ever making breakfast for a client before. But it was pleasant not eating alone for once. I tried to come up with a conversation starter, but struggled at first. Talking about politics, sports or the weather didn’t seem appropriate.

  “Was the bed OK?” I asked. “Did you get any sleep?”

  “It was fine,” she answered after swallowing a mouthful of eggs. “I was so exhausted, it didn’t matter. Not an evening I’ll fondly remember.”

  We both settled in and enjoyed our breakfast. The silence was pleasant and not awkward, and she seemed to enjoy the meal. As we finished I found a subject to discuss.

  “So Jeanine mentioned you started your
business from the ground up and were the sole owner until five years ago. That must have been rough. The consulting world, from what I’ve heard, is pretty much a boys’ club.”

  She drank some orange juice and looked me in the eye. “It was tough, and at times I wondered if I’d make it, no matter how confident I was. But, fortunately, I had cash to pull me through. Once I built a client base it got easier, and after five years we finally made a profit and haven’t lost money since.”

  “You were lucky to have money to work with. Where did it come from?”

  “Family inheritance. It was a good sum, though I burned through it pretty quickly in those early years. That is one reason why I sold off part of the business, though I still hold a controlling interest. I needed it to free myself from Mark.”

  “That must have been hard?”

  “I was lucky I found good partners that work well with me. It also freed me from some responsibility while I finalized my divorce.” She finished up her juice and noticed the time. “I need to call Jeanine and let her know what is going on. Will you be able to take me home so I can get some work clothes?”

  “Sure. I cancelled an appointment this morning so I can drive you there and to work if you’d like. I have a lunch date at 11 or so, if you think you’ll be OK.”

  “Once I’m at work everything is always OK. Please don’t let me get in the way of your date. Thank you for breakfast, it was very good.” She got up, went into the bedroom and made her call.

  I cleared the table and placed all the dishes in the dishwasher. As I finished, someone rang the doorbell. I grabbed my gun before looking through the peephole. It was Detective Mallard, so I let him in. He looked like he’d been up all night, still wearing the same clothes and was carrying a cup of coffee with the Golden Arches symbol on it. Caffeine was always at hand for the police when pulling an all-nighter.

  “You don’t look like you’ve been to bed?” I asked him as he came in.

  “No, I haven’t,” he answered. “Besides the dog, we had another murder near Denver University. Not one of my better nights.”

  “I still have some eggs and bacon I can cook up quickly if you’re hungry?” I asked. Always good to have the police on your side.

  “I had an Egg McMuffin a while ago, so I’m good. We found some things in an alley dumpster a few blocks over I wanted to tell you and Miss White about. Is she here?”

  “She’s in the bedroom calling her workplace and letting them know what is going on and that she’d be late. What did you find?”

  “Some blood-covered latex gloves and a blue dress shirt, also covered in blood. We’ll be testing it, but we believe it will match the dog’s. I’m sure they were hoping it would disappear with the other garbage. We got lucky, as trash pickup day was today. If we’d have come by a few hours later, it likely would have been gone.”

  Emily walked into the room still in her pajamas. “Officer,” she said. “Did I hear about you finding something in a dumpster?”

  “Yes, some latex gloves and a blue long-sleeve dress shirt, both covered with blood. I know Jarvis had talked with your ex yesterday, and I wanted to see if it could have been his.”

  “While I was married to Mark, he rarely wore dress shirts and never wore long sleeves. He liked showing off his arms. He was vain like that.”

  “When I talked with him yesterday,” I added, “he was wearing a T-shirt. Rickie Mann was wearing a dress shirt, but it was white not blue. Not that he couldn’t have changed it. Was it a brand name?”

  “Men’s Wearhouse, from what I was told. Nothing too special. Probably lots of men wear them, but it does lead us to believe he was a businessman of some kind. Emily, does anyone else leap to mind?”

  Emily thought long and hard. “No, it doesn’t. There are a few men at my work that would wear that type of shirt, but no one that I’d suspect of doing something like this. All are married and, from what I’m aware of, all are happily married, too. I’m sorry I can’t be of more assistance. When will I be able to go back home?”

  “Give us another day or so. We may want to go over the crime scene one or two more times. Once it’s clear we’ll contact you. Will you be staying here in the meantime?”

  “I don’t want to impose on Jarvis. I have a female friend who lives down near DU that will happily put me up for now. Is it OK for us to go to my place to pick up some things?”

  “Yes. Stay clear of the kitchen area and the back door for now. The places that are roped off are off-limits.” He was looking me straight in the eye when he said it, while taking a long sip of his coffee.

  “We’ll go through the front door and into my bedroom,” she stated. “Thank you for your help with this.”

  “No problem. If you think of anything else, let me know. And that goes for you too, Jarvis. You may have a license, but that doesn’t mean you don’t keep me informed. I don’t need you hot-dogging and getting yourself and Miss White hurt or killed.”

  I smiled politely and gave him an “OK, boss” that he didn’t seem to appreciate. I let him out as he shot me one last stern look.

  “I’ll change quickly,” stated Emily. “And if you can run me home, I’ll shower and dress for work. Then you can be off to your date.”

  She headed off to the bedroom and closed the door. I finished cleaning up and started the dishwasher. I grabbed a hip holster and placed it on my belt. I didn’t want to go armed on the lunch date, but I wanted it handy. I would lock it back up in the glove box for safe-keeping. Today I planned to drive downtown instead of taking the light rail, as I needed my car in case something came up.

  We got to Emily’s house, and she went in to shower and change for work. I looked over the crime scene from a distance to see if anything stood out. No clues jumped up and told me who the killer of Opus was. No magic a-ha’s jumped to mind to solve the case. I suspected the technicians were good at their job and wouldn’t miss anything important. But I still wanted to look it over myself to make sure.

  Emily came down in one of her new power outfits. It was a nice-fitting beige slacks and a black blouse with a beige jacket. She wore comfortable flat black shoes and had a beige purse to match. Her hair was tied in back and looked clean and fresh. I’d have to say for her big meeting she was dressed for success.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  “The deal is going to get done. You look fabulous.”

  “You think so? I could use some positive vibes.”

  “How can they say no to a smart, sexy lady like you!”

  I think she blushed as she walked past me, her warm body just barely rubbing up against mine, sending a rush through me. She locked up the house and went to her car. With her remote she started it up and then turned to me.

  “I appreciate all that you’ve done!” She reached over to give me a long, lingering hug, and I could feel her heart beating through her chest. “Good luck on your lunch date. I hope it goes well.”

  “Once you know where you’re staying, contact me. If you decide to go out anywhere, call and I’ll be on watch. I plan on checking on our two suspects today. I’m sure the police will have already spoken with them, but I want to see what they have to say as well.”

  She got into her car and drove off to her business meeting, the scent of her perfume still lingering around me.

  Chapter 12

  Driving into downtown is a bear at times, and the parking is pretty expensive. That is why I normally took the Light Rail, but today I wanted my wheels if I needed to leave quickly. As it seems to always be, traffic was bumper-to-bumper the whole way, but I made it through the hordes downtown and parked in a parking garage a block from Century Link Tower. Maybe Bristol & Bristol validated.

  The atmosphere was hot, the pavement warm as I walked over to Melissa’s building. The ride up was quick, and I was soon in the Bristol & Bristol office enjoying the cool air conditioning. The same receptionist smiled at me this time; she seemed to remember me. Without saying anything, she picked up the pho
ne and called Melissa. “Your date is here!” she stated with a grin. It appeared I had been the talk of the office, which likely was a first for me, at least in a positive light.

  She walked into the room and I attempted not to drool too much. She was wearing a pretty, flowered yellow dress with no sleeves, the length just covering her knees. She had shiny black heels on and a straw hat to shield her face from the hot sun. She gave me a big smile, those marvelous green eyes shining in delight. Over she came, looping her arm in mine.

  “Shall we go?” she stated happily. “I’m famished.”

  “Have fun,” called the receptionist as we walked out. “Don’t hurry back.”

  The whole ride down the elevator I tried to not stare at her, but I couldn’t help it. “Wow, you look fabulous! Every man is going to be looking at you.”

  “You don’t look too bad yourself,” she replied. “I’m sure the ladies will be checking you out as well.”

  I had tried to dress upwardly mobile, with pressed pleated khaki slacks, a navy-blue cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and freshly polished brown dress shoes. No tie for me, as it wasn’t my style. Though I doubted I’d stand out better than any of the other businessmen who were out on the street that day, many of whom would be sweating through their five-hundred-dollar dark suits. But I enjoyed hearing it.

  “Where shall we go to lunch?” I asked her. “You’re down here daily, so you know what is best.”

  “Let’s head over to the 16th Street Mall. There is a wonderful place we can sit inside with the air conditioning and gaze at each other.”

  I couldn’t argue that point and I loved the 16th Street Mall, which stretched several blocks with offices, shopping and dining, and a free shuttle running up and down to transport you back and forth. There were about 200 restaurants to choose from, covering any cuisine you could think of. Even with the throng of humanity moving through the area on a daily basis, it was always kept clean. It was only a couple blocks away from her office, so we decided to walk. The traffic and construction noise made it hard to hear, so conversing wasn’t an option. But we would have plenty to talk about over lunch. I kept looking over at her on our stroll and counted my blessings on how lucky I was to be with her. The place she chose was Maggiano’s Little Italy. As the name implies it was Italian food, something I did enjoy. I had eaten there several times when downtown and had always had a good meal. It wasn’t real far, and once we hit 16th street we grabbed the next shuttle down that dropped us near the front door.