Caruso 01 - Boom Town (7 page)

More than fair. Now, I’m sorry your place was robbed, but I had nothing to do with that. You have to believe me.”

The man struck a gaze at Humphrey, inspecting the swanky suit, the perfect hair, and the man’s Mercedes, which, probably for the first time, had dust on its tires.

A cool breeze swept down out of the Cascades, and both men seemed to shiver.

A horse whinnied down a grade in a pasture out back. Both men turned to see a gray mare shifting its head up and down and then prancing about the small corral next to a decrepit shelter.

The feisty Arabian glided across the ground, its tail pointing straight out.

“See, even your horse wants you to sell this place,” Humphrey said smiling.

The man with the beard lifted his nose to the breeze. “Naw, she smells somethin’ in the air. Could be a mountain lion. More likely your bullshit.”

Humphrey turned and made his way back to the driver’s door, opened it, and hesitated before getting in. “One way or another, you’ll come to your senses. You’ll deal with me.” With that, he got into his car and started the engine. As he started to back out of the driveway, he shook his head as he noticed the man in his yard. He had turned around, bent over, and his pants were down at his ankles. His right index finger pointed at his hairy white cheeks.

♦

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Tony had a feeling Dumb and Dumber would find a way to finish what they had started, but his concern was why they would bother. Had Beaver Jackson told them to keep track of him? If so, why?

After talking with Dawn Sanders, and letting her make a pin cushion out of him, Tony drove to a downtown park along the Deschutes River to let Panzer run and take care of business, and then he proceeded to a frame shop to pick up a bunch of photos he was having matted and framed for his gallery opening. While there, he dropped off the roll of film he had taken at the fried Humphrey house. He didn’t expect to find anything in those shots, but he did hope the shot of the security guards turned out.

He needed something for his website. Something that praised retroactive abortions.

The photo shop had done a great job on his photos. He worked in black and white, mostly landscapes, but this showing was made up almost entirely of people. Faces from around the world.

There was something magical about the human face and what it can tell the informed observer at that vital moment of shutter release. Maybe his skill with a camera gave him a better understanding of human nature. His sister Maria, a professor of psy-chology at the University of Oregon, had disagreed with Tony’s self assessment, and had diagnosed his understanding of others as a direct result of his encounters with thousands of people from all walks of life in more than 30 countries—in and out of the Navy.

Okay. . .maybe.

He dropped off the last of the framed photos at the Cascade Gallery a block away. The owner, June Van Hoover, looked them over critically. She was in her early sixties, and if she was five feet then Tony was ready to play in the NBA. So thin was she, he imagined a good breeze would blow her halfway across the high desert to Idaho.

She adjusted her bifocals on a particularly stark photo of a Malaysian woman on the streets of Singapore. One of Tony’s favorites.

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“I want this one,” she said.

That was more words than he’d heard her say in two previous meetings in person. He had called from Eugene prior to coming to Central Oregon, setting up the showing with June’s assistant.

In person, June had rarely said a thing, preferring instead to grunt and clear her throat.

He left her to admire number two of twenty, Malaysian Woman, while Tony headed back to the condo to regroup.

Playing an insurance investigator had taken its toll on him. He needed a shower.

As he was toweling off, his cell phone rang.

“Yeah.”

There was nobody on the line. Then he heard breathing.

“Mr. Caruso?”

It was Cliff Humphrey.

“Yes. What can I do for you, Mr. Humphrey?”

“I just wanted to know how the day went,” he said. “What you found out.”

When Tony took on cases like this, he tried to assess the type of person he would be working for, and if the person seemed like high maintenance, he would usually pass. Life was too short to put up with assholes. Humphrey had intrigued him, though. Tony was usually open to anything after that. Now he was questioning his own judgment.

“I made a few inquiries,” Tony said. “Talked with his business partner, neighbors, friends.”

“What do you think?”

What he thought and what he knew for a fact were two separate things. “Do you know of anything going on with Dan’s work that would have made him...less than happy?”

Cliff Humphrey thought for a while, his breathing uneasy.

Finally, he said, “Not really. There was an offer for their company on the table, from what I was told. Some large software company in California had been there a week before his death. It sounded like a good deal to me.”

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Interesting. “His partner didn’t mention that.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” he said. “It was still preliminary. I think they wanted to maintain control of their baby. It was my understanding they were going to turn down the offer.”

Tony switched gears. “Tell me about your son’s insurance company and his policies.”

Cliff Humphrey gave him the name of the company, and explained that they would not be paying out on his million dollar policy. Barb and Dan were each other’s beneficiary, with the same amount. Cliff was secondary beneficiary on both policies, since Barb had no living relatives. And, of course, Dan’s mother, Cliff’s wife, had died earlier that year in a freak equine accident.

Tony thanked him for the info, told him he would be in touch, and hung up.

Next he checked his e-mail. There was only one message from Melanie Chadwick reminding him they were on for dinner that night.

He gave her a call and told her he’d meet her at the Riverfront at seven, which gave him just enough time to look up a few things on the web before heading over to meet her.

♦

The Riverfront was a huge complex of condos with an older hotel, a restaurant that resembled a Denny’s, and one of those dark bars with live music five nights a week. Mostly jazz. A weathered wooden bridge crossed the Deschutes River, with a path that led guests to a drastically hilly eighteen hole golf course. They had package deals where guests could rent a golf cart for a week and park it right outside their door. They could even drive it to local shops that lined the river adjacent to the Riverfront complex.

Being Saturday night, the restaurant was packed. Luckily, Melanie had a friend who worked there who found them a table.

Melanie was at a table set back in a darker area, with a nice
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view of a huge tropical fish tank. She had a glass of merlot with only a few sips out of it, and one waiting for Tony. She had changed out of her more businesslike skirt at the open house, to a slinky red thing with spaghetti straps working overtime trying to hold her healthy front in place.

She smiled at him, and he gave her a quick kiss as he took a seat in the half-moon booth next to her.

“You look hot,” Tony said.

“I’m freezing.”

“You know what I mean.”

“You don’t look too shabby yourself,” she said.

He was wearing a pair of loose-fitting olive drab Dockers, and a black polo shirt that stretched tightly across his chest. He wasn’t normally prone to showing off muscles, but he thought the shirt had shrunk a bit in the condo’s dryer. Either that, or he was eating too much and not working out enough.

They ordered and ate. She had a pork something or other and Tony had the lamb. After dinner they sat back nursing their third glass of wine.

“How was your acupuncture?” she asked.

“The acupuncture itself was quite relaxing,” he said, thinking carefully for the right words. “Dawn is an interesting person.”

“She is that.”

“Are you really close friends?”

“Not really. I sold her the house. She got a good deal. We go out every now and then for lunch. I go in for a massage and a session once a month.”

“She does have magic hands,” he said.

She lowered her brows at him. “What exactly did she massage?”

“She was very professional. Although I’m afraid she’s seen almost as much of me as you have.”

“Really?”

“My gown went one way and I went the other.” He took a sip of wine.

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“Great. Now she’ll want to ask you out.”

He almost spit his wine out. “What makes you say that?”

“I know her. She has quite the appetite.”

Tony wasn’t about to mention the comment Dawn Sanders had made to him when she gave him her card. He had no idea how this relationship was going, having only met Melanie recently.

Besides, he wasn’t even sure he’d be in Bend that long. He had the condo until late January, so he didn’t want to get too close to anyone.

They finished their wine and then headed toward the door.

“Would you like to go to the bar and listen to some Jazz?” Tony asked.

She smiled and nuzzled closer to him. “I thought we could go to my place.”

He had a feeling this would happen, which is why he drove separate. He needed to talk with a few people in the Riverfront Bar. See if they knew anything about an Italian guy that hung out there.

“Why don’t I meet you there in an hour,” Tony said.

“Why so long?”

“I forgot I needed to stop by the condo and check my e-mail.

I’m waiting for some info to come in on this case I’m working.

Plus, I’ll need to let Panzer run before I bring him to your place.”

She kissed him quickly on the lips. “All right,” she said. “I’ll try not to start without you.”

He walked her out to her car. After she drove away, he went back inside to the bar. This lying thing was getting way too easy, and he almost hated himself for it.

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The Riverfront Bar was just that. The place sat a few feet lower than the adjoining restaurant, with double doors that led to a wooden deck that hung over a tranquil set of rapids in the Deschutes. The deck was used year-around, but since it was cold-er out now, not many people were willing to go out. So, the inside was standing room only.

Tony let his eyes adjust as he squeezed in at the end of the bar, where a couple in their early forties were working on a microbrew.

The busy bartender flicked his chin at Tony, and he ordered a local India Pale Ale.

“Good choice,” the man next to him said, turning slightly toward him to allow the bartender to hand Tony his beer. “Let me get that.” He flipped the bartender a five from a stack of bills in front of him, and waved his hand, meaning keep the change.

Tony thanked the guy and took a long drink.

He introduced himself and his wife. They were from San Francisco. Up for the skiing. While he told his life story, Tony was able to scan the room, looking for anyone that fit the description Dawn Sanders had given him of the guy that had gone home with Dan and Barb Humphrey the night they died. But Tony couldn’t see anyone that fit. Then he noticed two people he did know. The two rocket scientists who had whacked him with the billy clubs that morning out at Cascade Peaks Estates. And they
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recognized him, as well.

The guy who had been talking with Tony excused himself to go to the bathroom, so Tony slid into the bar stool next to the guy’s wife.

She was a nice looking woman. Almost-real blonde hair to her shoulders. Bright blue eyes that said more in a few seconds than her husband had said with words in five minutes. She wore one of those tight silk shirts that was only that way because her obviously-unreal breasts were a little out of proportion to her shoulders. The surgeons in America were making a helluva living, Tony guessed.

“Steve can be quite the bore,” she said, moving closer to Tony and placing her hand on his right thigh.

Tony tried to block her out, but her hand was slowly inching toward pay dirt.

Luckily he got his break. A woman he recognized was making her way through the crowd. Dawn Sanders smiled when she saw him, and then followed that up with a knowing grin when she noticed the woman next to him. Tony waved her over. She looked different without her little round spectacles.

Twisting off the chair toward Dawn, Tony said, “You finally made it.” He gave her a big hug. “Save me,” he whispered into Dawn’s ear. Then he gave her a quick kiss and turned toward the San Francisco woman.

She had her lower lip pouting out.

“Thank your husband for the drink, again,” Tony said. “It was nice talking with you.”

Dawn and Tony walked out through the crowd. He brought her to the outside deck and they stood for a moment at the rail. The river churned loudly below them, but he couldn’t see it in the dark abyss. There was a chill in the air, like it was about to snow.

Raising a glass of red wine, she took a sip and then licked her lips. “Where’s Melanie?” she asked.

“Went home.”

“You work fast. I heard that about Italians.”

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“We might work fast, but we always finish the task at hand.”

She smiled and widened her eyes at him. “How’s your back?”

“I want to apologize for earlier today,” he said. “I don’t like to deceive people. Especially good people.”

“Right,” she said. “That doesn’t bother me, though. You’re an interesting man, Mr. Caruso. But isn’t Melanie a little too sedate for you?”

He had to laugh at that. Sedate wasn’t even close to describing Melanie. Yet, when he thought about it, she was probably just that compared to those who frequented the Humphrey Jacuzzi parties.