Rose Pressey - Chase Charley 02 - Seems Like Old Crimes (6 page)

Maybe I should have met her last night because I got little sleep. I kept wondering what she wanted. The apprehension wouldn’t go away so I got up at six, did a little yoga, had a fruit and vegetable smoothie, and dressed for my day. I’d called Courtney last night and left her a message. She was probably getting used to receiving crazy messages from me.

I tried to focus on a book while I waited until it was time to go, but it was useless because I kept reading the same sentence over and over. Finally, at seven fifteen, I decided I’d go ahead. I grabbed my purse and keys. When I stepped out into the hallway, Mrs. Perkins was standing right by my door. Did she ever sleep?

I clutched my chest. “What are you doing, Mrs. Perkins?”

She peeked over my shoulder and into my apartment. I moved to my left, blocking her view.

“Did the man find you last night?” she asked.

I furrowed my brow. “What man? The one I was talking to?” She had to mean Dangerfield.

“No, it wasn’t the TV man. There was another man who was knocking on your door around midnight. When I came to the door, he left.” She folded her arms in front of her waist.

“I never heard anyone knock. Are you sure he was at my door?”

She placed her hand on her hip. “I’m not senile, dear. I know which door is yours and I saw him in front of it.”

I stepped out into the hallway and pulled my door shut. “Maybe he had the wrong apartment.”

She shook her head. “He looked as if he knew what he was doing.”

I wasn’t so sure she could tell that just by looking at him, but I wouldn’t argue. I shoved the key into the lock and secured my door. Just in case Mrs. Perkins was right about the strange man, I didn’t want anyone in my place. She headed back toward her door as I marched toward the building’s entrance.

“Just be careful who you invite to your place in the middle of the night,” she warned with a wave of her finger.

With that she shut her door. There was no point arguing with her that I hadn’t invited anyone. She’d already made up her mind.

I got into my 1984 red convertible Porsche 944 and headed straight toward the café where I was meeting Haley Swanson. The main reason I’d gotten this car was because of Jake Ryan in
Sixteen Candles
. It had been love at first sight… for him and the car. I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel in rhythm to Billy Ocean, another one of my favorite 80s singers. Once near the hotel, I lucked out and found a spot about a block away, so I whipped the convertible into the nearby lot and hopped out.

Different scenarios of what would happen when I met this woman played out in my mind. I arrived at the café, which was on the bottom floor of a hotel. When I stepped inside the restaurant, I noticed most of the tables were full. Employees moved swiftly around the room and the noise level was set on high. The walls were exposed brick. The tables had chairs of varying colors from white, light blue, and pale yellow. Along one wall was shelves lined with all different shapes and sizes of bottles. Behind them were lights making the glass glow. 

I scanned the room for the woman. She’d failed to tell me what she looked like and I had forgotten to ask. How would we find each other? I pulled out my cell phone. After taking a seat at the edge of the café by the door, I figured I’d give her a call at the number she’d phoned me from last night.

A waitress approached my table with a menu. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail and she wore the restaurant’s black and white uniform. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Just water, please.” Before she walked away, I asked, “By the way, has a woman been in this morning looking for another woman?”

Okay, my question made little sense. No wonder she was looking at me as if I was nuttier than a fruitcake. She furrowed her brow. “Not that I know of.”

I nodded. “Thanks.”

She walked away.

The café door opened and grabbed my attention. A dark-haired woman entered. Her black dress hung loosely on her body. She’d pulled her hair up into a bun, but strands of hair wisped around her face. Maybe she’d run or walked a long way to get here. She must have sensed my staring because her gaze fell right on me. The woman immediately headed my way and that was when it finally clicked that she must know what I looked like because of my show. 

“Ms. Charley?” the woman in the dress said when she was next to the table.

I stood. “You must be Haley Swanson.”

She nodded.

“Nice to meet you both,” I said, studying the women’s faces. “Is this table okay?”

“Yes, that’s fine,” Haley said.

“I forgot that you must have seen me on TV and knew what I looked like,” I said with a smile.

Haley pulled out a chair and sat down. I took my seat again and waited for Haley to start the conversation. I hated the awkward silence between us. Maybe I should just blurt out for Mrs. Swanson to get to the point; the suspense was getting the better of me. 

Haley placed her purse on top of the table. “Thank you for meeting me.”

I placed my hands in front of me on the table. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry about your husband.”

This conversation was off to a weird start, just as I’d figured. At the moment the thoughts in my mind looked like pieces of an unsolved puzzle dumped on top of a table. I had to hurry up and fit the pieces together.   

Haley glanced down at the table. “The reason I called you here is because my husband and I were desperate for help.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And I could help you?”

“We’d been to the police, but no one took us seriously. Even now after my husband’s death, I don’t trust them.”

“So why are you talking to me?” I asked.

Just then the waitress brought back the water and placed the glass on the table in front of me. She asked Haley, “Would you like water too?”

Haley nodded and the waitress walked away.

I took a drink of water and then placed the glass down. “Why me?”

Haley picked at the edge of a napkin and then focused on me. “Because Tim thought you were an investigative reporter who was good at the job.”

“Just like Bill Dangerfield?” I asked. I wanted her to know that I knew her husband had called Dangerfield.

She stared at me. “Yes, like him too. My husband just wanted to make sure someone helped us. Now it’s too late for him, but I still have to worry and look over my shoulder. I think someone wants to kill me too.”

My eyes widened. “I’m sorry, but that’s something you should go to the police for help with.”

“Like I said, we went to the police and they didn’t take us seriously. That’s why I want you to help me.” Haley reached out and placed her hand on top of mine. “Please, Ms. Charley.”

She stared at me with her big brown eyes and I wished I had never come to meet her. Now that I knew she was possibly in danger, I couldn’t ignore it. I had to help Haley. However, I still didn’t understand why me. “Are you sure you want me to help you? There has to be someone else who can help.”

Haley shook her head. “Possibly I could find someone else, but I don’t know how long that would take. I need help now. I just don’t have the time to find a private investigator. I’m looking over my shoulder everywhere I go. I know you will look into things. Tim and I saw the way you helped others.”

I traced the rim of my glass with my index finger. “I am flattered that you came to me, but I’m not sure how much I will be able to help you. I still say you should talk with the police.”

Haley didn’t take her eyes off me. “Please.”

Getting in the middle of a murder investigation was a serious matter. It was something I knew I shouldn’t do, but now I wouldn’t be able to tell her no.

I released a deep breath. “Okay, I suppose I could help you with some of the contacts I have. Do you have any idea who killed your husband or who might want to kill you?”

“Not really, that’s why I need your help.” She didn’t take her eyes off me.

I brushed the hair off my face. “I can’t believe that you have no idea who may have wanted to do this to you.”

She shook her head. “Not a clue.”

I took another big drink of water and thought about what I was getting into. What would Marc say? My job wasn’t to get involved with a murder investigation.

I placed the glass down and said, “Okay, just remember that I’m not a cop.”

Haley nodded. “Of course not. And that’s why I want you to help.” She looked at her watch. “I have somewhere I have to be.” She pulled a card from her purse and handed it to me. “You’ll be in touch?”

I took the card and stuffed it into my purse without looking at it. “I’ll contact a few people and then give you a call. In the meantime, you need to tell me who your husband’s enemies are and what his movements were in the last few days.”

Haley shook my hand. “I really appreciate your help.”

“You’re welcome,” I said.

The first person I needed to call was Dangerfield. Was it wrong that I got some satisfaction out of the fact that she had called me first?

I knew my voice sounded less than confident. This meeting was a lot to absorb and I still wasn’t sure what I had just agreed to. I would probably regret it later. What if the person trying to kill her set his sights on me? Or her sights. At this point, I didn’t know if I was looking for a man or a woman. A man had called me and told me to go to the jazz club, but was the person who had called me the killer? The thought sent a chill down my spine.

Haley stood.

“I’ll talk with you soon,” Haley said.

They walked out of the café. As soon as they had left, the waitress returned.

She frowned. “Are you ready to place an order?”

I grabbed my purse and pulled out a few dollar bills. I handed her the cash. “I’m sorry for wasting your time, but we won’t be eating today. Thank you for everything.”

She shrugged and took the cash. “No problem.”

With that, I walked out of the restaurant. I had no idea which direction Haley had gone. I should have followed them.

First thing I wanted to do after I called Dangerfield was to research Haley Swanson.  I pulled out my phone and dialed Dangerfield’s number.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he said when he answered the phone.

Flattery would get him nowhere. Well, maybe it would get him a little far, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You’re not going to believe who I just met,” I said.

“The widow of the man who was murdered outside the jazz club.” His tone held a vague sense of satisfaction.

I looked over my shoulder. “Are you following me?”

He chuckled. “No, I am not following you.”

“Then how did you know?” I asked.

“I got a call last night and I’m assuming you did too,” he said.

Darn it. I thought for sure I had been the only one Haley had called.

“Did you refuse to meet her?”

“No, she left me a message. When I called her back she didn’t answer. I guess she decided to meet you instead. What did you find out?” he asked.

I made it back to my car and unlocked the door. Once inside, I tossed my purse on the seat beside me and shoved the key into the ignition. “She wants me to find her husband’s killer.”

“Wow. What did you tell her?”

I started the car and music blasted. Once I turned the volume down, I said, “I agreed to do it. I didn’t know what else to say.”

“I’m kind of speechless myself.” The teasing tone was evident in Dangerfield’s voice.

“Don’t make fun of me. I doubt she would have gotten any better help asking for yours.” I pulled my car out onto the street.

A car honked from somewhere behind me. I waved my hand as an apology because apparently I’d cut them off. I set my phone to speaker and placed it on the console.

“Did she say why she wanted your help?”

“I guess her husband thought we were good at our jobs,” I said.

“It’s nice to know we’re appreciated. You’re a softie, Charley,” Dangerfield said.

I sighed. “I didn’t know how to say no.”

“You’re a real sweetheart, Charley,” Dangerfield said in his sexy drawl.

“Right… anyway, I have to go to work right now. I’m going to do some research as soon as I get there.”

It was my way of telling him I would be busy on the case right away. He might as well just let me do this by myself.

“Hmm. Me too.” Dangerfield’s voice sent a low vibration that sent a shiver through my body. Why did he continue to do that?

I just knew Dangerfield was already in front of his computer. He was probably typing away at the keys finding out everything he could about Tim Swanson and his wife Haley. I couldn’t weave around the traffic any faster without getting a ticket, so it would be at least another fifteen minutes before I reached my office.

“Meet me after work?” he asked.

This was a decision I couldn’t rush into.

“Sure, I’ll call you later.”

So much for not rushing my decision.