Renee Pawlish - Reed Ferguson 04 - Farewell, My Deuce by Renee Pawlish

Author:Renee Pawlish [Pawlish, Renee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery: Crime Noir - Humor - P.I. - Colorado
ISBN: 149424666X
Publisher: Renee Pawlish
Published: 2013-11-21T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I stopped at a Subway for a meatball sub. As I wolfed it down, I thought about where things were going. Somehow Deuce was tied to Gary, but I didn’t know how. And Shane was tied to Gary, but I didn’t know how. I hoped by the time I figured it out, it wouldn’t be too late for Deuce. It was as bad as The Big Sleep, with its convoluted plot.

Shane Mundy lived rented an apartment near Broadway and Dartmouth, about six miles directly south of downtown Denver. The building was like many others in the area, a three-story L-shape with a tiny parking lot, and no extra amenities like a pool or workout room. Shane lived on the third floor.

I scanned the lot and the surrounding streets, but didn’t see his truck. I was debating what to do next when my phone rang.

“Shane works at Criss Cross Construction,” Cal said without any ado.

“I should’ve known. All these guys know each other. And I’ll bet that means he knows Deuce, too.”

“Uh huh.”

“How’d you find that out?”

“Let’s just say I tracked down his banking information and traced back the direct deposits from Criss Cross.”

“I don’t want to know how you did it all,” I said. How Cal never got caught, I don’t know.

“Did you find out anything about Craigslist?”

“Negativo, but I’m still working on it.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’m going to see if I can track Shane down at Criss Cross.”

“What if he works at a different site from where Deuce did?”

“Good question.” I paused. “I’m stabbing in the dark right now.”

“I’ll see if I can find out,” Cal said. “Oh, and still no calls to Deuce’s cell phone.”

“Thanks. I’ll talk to you later.”

I sat in the car for a minute, debating what to do. Criss Cross Construction had multiple job sites. How could I find out which one Shane worked at? I could go back to the main headquarters, but I doubted that Lon Carlson’s secretary, Edna, would be thrilled to see me. I looked at the clock on the dashboard: 3:15. By the time I drove over there, it would be close to four. Somehow I didn’t think Edna would want to let me see Carlson again today. And I didn’t have time to wait. But there was another place I could try.

I put the 4Runner in gear and headed back downtown to the Vanguard site. Chuck Fitzhugh had been pleasant with me this morning, and I figured if he knew where Shane worked, he’d tell me.

I turned on to 15th Street and approached the entrance to the building site. I was about to turn into the lot when I spied a blue Mustang parked in front of the trailer. I swore. Detective Sarah Spillman was there, presumably telling Fitzhugh about Gary, and asking questions. Not a good time to drop in and ask about Shane.

I drove past the entrance, around the block and then parked where I could see the trailer. I’d have to talk to Fitzhugh after she left.

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