Part 29 (1/2)

We ended up back in the kitchen. She was calming down. She offered lemonade and I said that sounded great. Before taking a seat beside her gla.s.s dining table, I removed my blazer and hung it over the back of one of the chairs. She noticed the Glock, but said nothing. She handed me a tall gla.s.s of cold lemonade, then sat down in the chair to my right with one of her own. Bright yellow lemons with green leaves adorned each gla.s.s.

”Do you think this is related to the case?” she asked.

”Seems a good bet,” I said. ”Nothing's missing and it comes at a time when we seem to be making progress.” It also came only one day after I'd visited the Koch Group.

”I was afraid you'd say that,” she said. She gave me a feeble smile and I put my palm on top of hers in an effort to rea.s.sure her.

”Does anyone else have a key to your unit?” I asked. There were two ways to enter the town house. One was the front door, the other was through the garage. None of the doors appeared to have been tampered with, but the lock on the front door wouldn't have been difficult for an intruder with any skill. There wasn't even a dead bolt.

”No,” she said.

”The owners' a.s.sociation?”

”No,” she said, ”just me.” I sipped my lemonade. ”What could they have been looking for?” she asked.

”Maybe someone was hoping I'd given you some written reports concerning the case.”

”Why do you say that?”

”Just a guess,” I said. We sat in silence for several minutes. I knew she didn't want to be alone, but I wanted to question the neighbors before the trail became cold. ”Stay here a few minutes,” I finally said. I stood and put on my blazer. ”I'm going to knock on some doors and see if anyone saw anything.” She nodded, but I saw the fear in her eyes. ”Lock the door behind me,” I said. ”I'll be back soon.”

Jayne's town house was one of eighteen three-story units. My first six knocks went unanswered. On my seventh try I was greeted by two grade-school boys waiting for their mother to come home from work. They were playing Risk and hadn't seen anything. I continued around the complex and noticed an older man kneeling in a flower garden in front of one of the town houses. He was in his mid-sixties, but tan and fit. Silver hair. He wore a white T-s.h.i.+rt, blue shorts, running shoes, and a tan golf hat. No socks. ”How are you doing?” I said.

”Can't complain,” he said.

”You live here?” I asked.

”Sure do,” he said.

”Nice garden.”

”Thanks.”

”A friend of mine lives in that unit over there,” I said as I pointed, ”and we-”

”The math professor?”

”Yeah.”

”Nice lady,” he said. He stood up and faced me. He was about five-eight and possessed a hawkish nose.

”We're wondering if you saw anything unusual or suspicious here today?”

”You a policeman?” he asked.

”Just a friend.”

”Used to be a homicide detective,” he said. ”Retired five years ago. Thirty-four years on the force, so the bulge under your coat caught my attention. Men packing heat are the only ones wearing getups like that on a day like today.”

”I'm a private investigator,” I said. I handed him a card.

”Lawyer, huh?”

”It's a long story,” I said.

”You may be the first private investigator I've ever met with half a brain,” he said.

”Jury's still out on that,” I said.

”I did see something unusual this morning,” he said. I kept silent. ”About eight-thirty a dark blue sedan pulls up and parks out there on Pearl Street. Crown Victoria, four-door. Fella gets out, sees me, and starts walking in the opposite direction. Big fella, about your age, maybe a little older.”

”Tall and skinny or tall and muscular?” I wasn't going to make that mistake again.

”No, he had muscle,” the man said. ”Must've weighed two-twenty at least.” That eliminated Finn.

”I knew the guy was on the job right away. He had that look about him, and the car had all sorts of antennas on it. Figured the guy must be federal because I didn't know him and the federal boys always drive big Fords these days. Didn't think much of it at the time.”

”How long was his car here?” I asked.

”No more than thirty minutes.”

”Did you get the plate number?”

”Colorado plates,” he said. ”A-M-K 8115.”

”A-M-K?” The prefix one witness claimed he'd seen on the car outside Carolyn Chang's home the night of her disappearance.

”Yeah.”

”You sure?” I asked.

”Positive,” he said. ”I've got a knack for remembering those things.” I wrote it down. ”It won't do you any good,” he said. ”I'll guarantee you it's a dummy plate. They use them for undercover operations and things like that. That info's not available to the public.”

”Could you run it through your connections?” I asked. He a.s.sessed me and his conclusion must've been favorable.

”Sure,” he said. ”Give me a day to work on it.”

”What's your name?” I asked.

”Thomas Hammond,” he said. We shook hands and I told him a little about my background, then thanked him for his help. ”Is your lady friend in trouble?” he asked.

”She hired me to look into something, and that's evidently making some folks nervous. Looks like someone broke into her home and searched it while she was at work.”

”I'll keep an eye on it,” he said.

Jayne looked through the security eyepiece in the door, then let me in. She seemed more composed. ”Did you learn anything?” she asked.

”I think you might have had a visit from our friend Polk.” I took off my blazer and related what I'd learned from Hammond.

”Wonderful,” she said. ”That man was creepy even before I knew he might be a killer.”