Trouble Finds Her (The Dewey Webb Historical Mystery Series Book 5) by Renee Pawlish

Author:Renee Pawlish [Pawlish, Renee]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Creative Cat Press
Published: 2018-01-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

It was warmer than it had been in days when I left the Continental Oil Building, and the walk to my car was pleasant. Afternoon traffic was light as I drove back to Trenton and Twelfth, where Nelson Fiske lived. I parked down the street and strolled back to the building, then went upstairs to 303. I listened at the door before I knocked.

Nothing.

I rapped loudly with my knuckles and waited. No one answered. I tried again, then moved to look into the window beside the door. White curtains were partially drawn. I cupped a hand against the glass and peered inside. The living room was small, with just enough room for a couch, a coffee table, and a big Zenith radio in the corner. A doorway led to the kitchen, where I could see a couple of cabinets. Another door led to a bedroom. I could see the unmade bed, but no one was in it. I watched for a moment longer, finally determining Fiske wasn’t there.

I stepped back to the door and glanced around. The walkway was empty, and no one was outside. I tried the doorknob, but it was locked. I felt the penknife in my pocket as I stared at the knob. I wondered if I could get the door open. Should I do it? What would I learn about Fiske, or Nora’s whereabouts? My decision, though, was made for me when a heavyset woman in a long blue overcoat came up the stairs at the end of the walkway.

“He’s not home,” she called out as she pulled a set of keys from her purse and paused in front of 301. “He’s at work right now. He usually doesn’t get home until a little after five. And he likes to go out at night.”

I sauntered down the walkway toward her. If she was going to dish out information, I would try to get as much as I could.

“Where does he work?” I asked.

“At the Capitol. I think he works for a senator.”

She hadn’t heard that Fiske didn’t work there anymore.

“He goes out at night?” I went on.

She nodded as she fiddled with the keys. “I hear he likes the jazz clubs.” She pointed down the walkway. “He’s generally a good neighbor, but I do think he plays his music too loud at times. And that girl that comes around, the two of them together are a dangerous mixture.”

“Why do you say that?”

“They fight a lot, and they can get loud.”

“Was this girl short?” I described Nora as best I could.

“Yes, that sounds like her. I haven’t seen her around in a month or so, though.” She finally found the right key and put it in the lock. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get dinner on the table.”

I tipped my hat politely to her and thanked her for her time, then headed down the stairs. It was almost four. Fiske should be back in an hour or so, if he was trying to keep up appearances by making his neighbors think he still had his job.

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