Angels in Disguise (9 page)

"Who's it with?"

"Group called, ‘Handyman for Hire'."

"Has he always paid his rent on time."

"Yep, first of every month."

"Ever had any issues with him?"

He shook is head. “Nope."

"Okay. You've answered my questions. Thanks for your help."

Hawkman left the vile smelling room and climbed into his 4X4. He drove around building two and spotted the apartment on the lower floor. No working van was apparent in the parking area, but the company possibly supplied the vehicles which the employees weren't allowed to bring home. He pulled to a stop and went to the door. After knocking for several seconds with no answer, he turned to leave just as a man in the next unit stepped outside and glanced in his direction.

"You looking for Alfonso?"

"Yes."

"He's gone most every day of the week doing odd jobs."

"Does he still work for “Handyman for Hire"?

"Yeah."

"What time does he get home? I might have some work for him?"

"All depends on what he's doing. But he's normally here around six o'clock or a little later."

"Thanks, I'll check back this evening."

Before pulling away from the apartment, Hawkman punched in the phone number of the law offices in Grants Pass. “This is Tom Casey, private investigator. I'd like to speak with the lawyer handling Carlotta Ryan's case."

"Hold on a minute."

"Jessica Phillips."

Hawkman hesitated a moment when the heard the woman's voice, but then repeated his spiel and asked when she'd last seen Carlotta.

"I'm sorry sir, but I'm not allowed to divulge that type of information."

"The woman's been missing for over a week and the family is quite concerned. Have you seen or talked to her?"

"Oh, my. No, I haven't seen her for over two weeks,” she said, her voice sounding a bit flustered.

"Did she approach you about a divorce?"

"Sir, could we set up an appointment? I don't like to discuss these things over the phone."

"Sure. When's a good time?"

"How about Wednesday afternoon at three o'clock"

"I'll be there."

"Could I have your name again?"

After hanging up, Hawkman figured she'd check him out, which suited him fine. The appointment time was perfect, as Jennifer didn't go for her tests until Thursday and Friday.

He drove away from the complex and headed for the post office. Inside, he walked up and down the row of small boxes set into the wall until he finally found number one five four six. Shading the glass with his hand, he squinted into the small door. He could make out the name Derrick Althusser on the top letter. So the man still collected his mail from a P.O. box. He'd go into the computer and do a search; maybe he'd have some luck in finding a recent address.

Dropping by a fast food place, he grabbed a hamburger, fries and soda to go. He parked in the alley behind his office, then walked around to the donut shop and bought a cream filled eclair. He plopped down at his desk and hit the answering machine. His stomach turned a flip flop when Jennifer's voice came through on the first message.

"Hi, hon. Just wanted you to know I'm running into Yreka to do some shopping. Didn't want you to worry. I'm feeling fine. Love ya, Jen."

Hawkman breathed a sigh of relief and unwrapped his food. After he ate, he wiped off the desk with a napkin, and threw the debris into the trash can, then phoned Paul. “Tom Casey, here. Am I calling at a bad time?"

"No, I'm on a break. What's happening?"

"Not a lot, but I'm moving on some leads. I need you to do me a favor. I want you to check Carlotta's credit card bill and see if she's made any purchases since she's been gone. If she has, check the store and the town."

"That'll be easy enough, I can go onto the computer and get the latest update."

"Great, get back to me as soon as you can."

Paul returned the call within an hour. “Mr. Casey. there's no new charges on her card since the date she disappeared."

"That's interesting."

"Have you kept a vigilant watch on the phone messages at the house?"

"Yes, one or two for Tiffany. And a couple of telemarketers. Nothing personal for Carlotta. Not even a hang-up."

"Keep an eye on the credit card usage and report back to me if anything shows up, also on any strange calls that might come in."

"Will do."

Hawkman booted up the computer and clicked on the program he'd purchased to help him search for missing persons. He entered Medford, Oregon, into the search square along with Derrick Althusser's name. The computer hummed for a few seconds, then popped up with a recent address and phone number. He jotted down the information, then punched in the digits on his portable phone. After four rings, an answering machine came on. “You've reached Derrick, leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

He dropped the receiver on the cradle. Glancing at his watch, he decided he'd have time to check out the address before he hit Alfonso's pad. Rereading the street and number, he realized he hadn't been in that area for a long time, so took his GPS receiver and mapped it out. He shut down the computer, unplugged the coffee pot and headed out the door.

Arriving at the address, he discovered what appeared to be an old motel turned into apartments. Not too shabby, but nothing one could brag about. He drove down the long driveway and found number eleven. It surprised him to find the place draped in yellow police tape across the entry and front lawn.

This didn't look good, so he phoned Detective Williams on his cell. “Hey

Williams,” he gave Derrick Althusser's address. “What gives?"

Hawkman could hear the detective rustling papers. “Appears the man overdosed. Got a call this morning from a neighbor. Said he couldn't rouse his buddy, and they were due on a job."

"Did the guy find him inside?"

"No, said he couldn't get Derrick to answer the door. It worried him, because he knew he messed with drugs, so he went back to his place and called us from there. Sure enough, we broke open the door and found him on the living room floor dead. Why are you interested?"

"He's one of the men in the sketches I showed you."

"I thought one of them looked familiar, but I couldn't place him at the moment. And I didn't have the report in front of me. The artist did an excellent job. Now that I think about it, looked just like the guy."

"You sure he died of an overdose?"

"Haven't gotten the autopsy report back, but his body had all the earmarks."

"Find anything in his room that might connect him to Carlotta Ryan?"

"Haven't finished investigating the scene yet, but so far, nothing."

"Let me know, if you do."

"Sure thing."

Hawkman made a U-turn and headed out of the complex. He could mark Derrick off the list. But it did indicate Carlotta might have used drugs. He'd talk to Paul about any suspicions he had about his wife using narcotics.

Hawkman drove toward Alfonso's place. When he came within sight of the man's apartment, he noticed a white van in front with one of those magnetic signs on the side that read “Handyman for Hire". Easy to remove if you're doing a drug run, he thought, as he parked alongside.

He reached inside his jacket and released the velcro catch off his shoulder holster. “Can't be too cautious,” he muttered. Buttoning his jeans jacket at the waist, he climbed out of the 4X4. On the way to the entry, he flipped on the voice activated recorder in his pocket.

Alfonso opened the door on the second knock. A towel hung around his neck, and his hair dripped with water as though he'd just stepped out of the shower. He gave Hawkman a questioning look. “Yeah?"

Interesting, Hawkman thought, as he noted the man had a fresh haircut and had shaved off his beard and mustache. The scar down his cheek stood out like a piece of shiny silk. “You Alfonso Gomez?"

"If you want a job done, you need to call and set up an appointment."

Hawkman flashed his badge. “No, I'm a private investigator and need to talk to you about Carlotta Ryan."

The man's face paled for a split second, then recovered quickly. “Don't know her."

He started to close the door, but Hawkman blocked it with his foot. “Yeah, you do. Carlotta's daughter identified you as Jack Smith."

The man's eyes narrowed. “Oh, yeah? Well, I ain't Jack Smith either."

"The mug shots at the police station proved you're Alfonso Gomez. And you've been in trouble with the law a couple of times."

"So have a lot of other guys in this town."

"Look, Alfonso, we can banter back and forth or I can call the police and let them question you. I thought maybe you'd be a little more cooperative. Not too good for business to have a bunch of cop cars sitting in front of your place."

He let out a grunt. “Okay, so what's the deal about Carlotta?"

"She's been missing for over a week. The family's concerned and we're trying to find her."

The man's eyes opened wide with a hint of fear. “Hey, I had a short fling with the woman a few months ago. It didn't work out and I haven't seen her since."

"How'd you meet her?"

"She set up an appointment to have her garbage disposal fixed. I went over and repaired the damn thing and before I could get out the door, she came on to me like a hot potato.” A smug grin lit his lips. “Hey, she's got a beautiful body and showed most of it in her short skirt and sexy top. Boobs hanging out all over the place.” He gestured with his hands in front of his chest. “Man, I got real interested, and made a date to see her later. I could just taste getting a handful of those.” He rolled his eyes. “Wowee!"

"Okay, Gomez, I got the picture. So you set up a date. Did you pick her up at the house?"

"Yeah. But we couldn't leave until she made sure the nosey kid got home from school."

"Why was that?"

"Beats me. I couldn't figure it. Guess she just wanted to make sure the brat was locked in the house."

"How long did this affair go on?"

He shrugged. “A couple of weeks. Then she told me to stop comin’ around."

"Did she give a reason?"

Alfonso grimaced. “Naw. Probably thought she could do better than a handyman."

"I see. Did she ever take drugs while with you?"

Alfonso shifted his position. “Huh, whatta ya mean?"

"Smoke a joint, sniff cocaine."

"What difference does it make if she's missin'?"

"I need to cover all the bases. Did she?” Hawkman watched the man's face and noted he'd averted his eyes.

"Don't remember."

"When did you see her last?"

Fiddling with the towel around his neck, he frowned. “Hey, man, I already told ya. It's been a few months.” Alfonso reached for the door knob, and turned to go back inside. “I've had enough of your questions."

"Do you know Tulip Withers?"

He whipped his head around. “Who? You talkin’ about a person or a flower?"

"A woman. She lives in this same complex."

Alfonso scratched his chin. “Nope, don't know no one around here. I come home from work, eat, flop into bed, and get up in the morning to go to my next job."

Hawkman turned to leave. “Thanks for your time. I may want to ask you more questions."

"Don't know what else I can tell ya. I've told ya everything I know about Carlotta.” Alfonso stepped backwards into his apartment and shut the door.

Hawkman stood for a moment surveying the area. When he climbed into his vehicle, he jotted down the license plate of the Handyman's van and flipped off the recorder in his pocket. He noted it was only eight o'clock. He still had time to run by Paul's place and talk to him about his wife.

When he drove by the front of the apartment, he noted the unit sat shrouded in darkness and he didn't see the Lexus. Turning around, he headed out, but as he approached the exit, the black car swerved into the lot. Since I'm here, might as well go see him, he thought. He made a U-turn and parked next to Paul's car.

"Mr. Casey, how's it going?"

"Okay."

As the men walked toward the entry, Paul continued. “I'm concerned about my daughter. Stopped by Mom's this evening and they were out by the pool. Tiffany sat off to the side with the cat in her arms. When I tried to involve her in the conversation, she just stared off into space. It bothers me, she's just not her happy self. I think she's worried about her mother. And I don't know what to tell her."

"Not much you can say, other than be truthful. She'll see right through a lie and her trust would vanish. Tiffany's smart enough to figure something has happened."

"That's what I'm afraid of and she's imagining the worst.” Paul moved around behind the bar. “Want a drink?"

"Beer's fine.” Hawkman sat down on one of the stools as Paul mixed himself a cocktail. “I need to ask a few more questions about Carlotta."

"Sure."

"Was she into drugs?"

Paul looked shocked. “No. Why are you asking?"

"I suspect she might have fooled around with a few."

"Oh my God,” Paul said, bringing his fist down on the bar top. “What makes you think so?"

"I became leery when you told me about her nonchalant attitude toward Tiffany's school activities and involvement with other mothers. Didn't sound natural. Plus, the men Tiffany told me about have been arrested at one time or another on drug related charges.” Hawkman waved a hand. “Don't get too excited yet. It may be no more than prescription drugs. Did she ever have a reason for pain pills?"

"She hurt her back lifting stuff out of her car a few months ago, and I think the doctor gave her some, but I have no idea what kind."

Paul crossed into the living room and flopped down on the couch. “If she got into drugs of any kind, she did it after I moved out. Truthfully, I have no way of knowing what she did with herself after I left. She pretty much cut me out of her life."

Hawkman shifted from the bar stool to a chair facing Paul. “Mind if I talk to your mother?"

"No, not at all.” He leaned forward placing his forearms on his knees, rotating his drink between his fingers. “She's seen more of Carlotta these past few months than I have. Her concern about Tiffany being left alone might have stemmed from her uncertainty about my wife's behavior. Even though she never mentioned it."