Rose Pressey - Chase Charley 02 - Seems Like Old Crimes (4 page)

“The man called us both. Plus, I’m charming to work with.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

I blew out a deep breath. Dangerfield was right. I couldn’t deny that something strange had happened.

“Okay, maybe,” I said.

“I’ll accept that.” Dangerfield winked.

We walked the short distance to Royal Street and arrived at Jack’s Jazz Club. It looked a lot different than it had just last night. Everything seemed business as usual. Had everyone forgotten that a murder had occurred just outside the back door? Did they not care? Most people might not even know. Tourists who were unaware of the potential danger. Was there danger? Had it been a random event? Considering Dangerfield and I had both received calls I didn’t think it was a random crime.

People strode out the door. After waiting for the area to clear, Dangerfield held the door open for me and I stepped inside the dark bar. The saxophone, piano, trumpet and bass all blended together in perfect harmony. Dim lights highlighted the stage. Tables and chairs dotted the floor with exposed bricks on the walls. 

Once inside the club, I realized the atmosphere here was a lot more relaxed and laid-back than the last place we’d been. A jazz ensemble played at the front of the room—one man on piano and one on the saxophone. Only one table was available by the door, but the room still wasn’t crowded. I liked this much better.

“We should sit there.” Dangerfield pointed out the available table.

I could have just come here on my own and asked the employees about last night’s events, but maybe having someone to help would be good.

Dangerfield and I sat at the table. Music streamed across the room, surrounding us with the rhythm. We watched the people in silence for a minute, as if this was some kind of awkward blind date. I shifted in my seat. Why were we here? What would we discover? Chills covered my body when I thought about last night.

“Would you like more wine?” he asked.

I waved my hand. “I think I’ve had more than enough for tonight.”

He smiled and then focused his attention on the entertainment. I drummed my fingers against the table. We had to do something. It wasn’t like anyone would walk up and tell us what we wanted to hear. I had no idea who to ask though. I suppose the best place to start would be with employees. After that we could try to find any regular customers. I needed to push my apprehension to the side and approach someone. Yet I continued to sit in silence. Dangerfield and I listened to the music. Finally, I decided if Dangerfield wasn’t going to talk with anyone then I sure would.

After a couple more seconds, Dangerfield said, “I suppose we should actually speak with someone, right?”

I chuckled. “That would probably be for the best.”

“Where do we start?” he asked.

I gestured toward the bar. “We could ask the bartender.”

“Good idea,” he said.

The man behind the bar was just standing there. It looked as if he had a lapse in customers. “Now would be a good time. Plus, there are a couple of the wait staff at the end of the bar.”

“Okay, let’s do it.”

Dangerfield and I were about to stand when a brunette waitress bounced up to our table. “Can I get you a drink?” she asked with a bright smile.

I exchanged a look with Dangerfield, then addressed her. “Actually, we have a few questions.”

Immediately her expression changed. Her eyebrows furrowed together and her mouth turned down into a frown. “Yes?” she said through gritted teeth.

She’d probably been questioned a lot since last night and was tired of answering them. Or she was just extremely rude. I liked to think it was the former.

I figured I’d go ahead and get the question out there. Then I’d know how rude she really was. “It’s about last night and the man found in back.”

Her face reddened. “I’m not allowed to talk about what happened.”

Dangerfield leaned closer so she could hear over the music. “Who told you that you couldn’t talk about it? Was it your boss?”

She shook her head. “No, it was the police.”

“The police?”

“They didn’t want anything to jeopardize the case,” she offered.

I was surprised she’d given that detail.

“Were you here when…
it
happened?” I asked.

She narrowed her eyes. “I told you I couldn’t talk about it.”

I didn’t think the question that I’d asked would be off limits considering she’d told me about the police.

“Do you want something to drink?” She looked out across the room, avoiding my stare.

“No, I think we’re good,” Dangerfield answered.

She turned and walked away.

“That was strange,” I said.

Dangerfield ran his hand through his hair. “I suppose I can understand why they were told not to talk. It’s doubtful everyone working here will follow that rule though,” he said.

“Let’s hope so,” I said.

I felt someone’s stare on me again. The dark-haired man at the table next to us was observing me as if I was a criminal and he was the prison warden. Did I have a sign that said watch me?

I leaned in closer to Dangerfield and whispered, “There’s a man watching us from the table behind you.”

“Do you want me to say something to him?” Dangerfield started to look over his shoulder, but I grabbed his muscular forearm.

“Don’t look at him. If we ignore him he will stop looking at us.”

Dangerfield sat up a little straighter in the chair. “Okay, I won’t look at him.”

I didn’t believe him.

After a few seconds, Dangerfield asked, “Is he still watching you or did he stop?”

“He’s still looking over here. He glances over every few seconds,” I said.

Dangerfield chuckled. “He probably thinks you are flirting with him.”

I scoffed. “He does not think that.”

When I glanced over again, the man made eye contact with me. I didn’t know what to do, so I looked away quickly.

“Is he still watching?” Dangerfield asked.

“Yes,” I said.

Dangerfield leaned closer and gestured toward my purse. “Do you have a mirror?”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Why do you need a mirror?”

“Because you won’t let me look at the guy. I’ll spy on him with your mirror,” he said.

I reached into my purse and pulled out a mirror, then handed it to Dangerfield. He looked at the mirror and then up at me. “Hello Kitty?”

“It came with a set,” I said.

He bit back a smile and positioned the mirror so that he could see over his shoulder.

“That isn’t in the least bit subtle,” I said.

Dangerfield handed the mirror back to me.

“That’s it, I am going to ask why he’s staring at you.” Dangerfield started to get up. Dangerfield’s whole body tensed. Impatience and frustration sparked in his blue eyes.

“Are you going to hit him?” I asked.

“If need be,” Dangerfield said.

I grabbed his arm. “The guy is walking this way.”

The man stood from his table and walked over to where we sat.

“What should we do?” I asked.

Dangerfield turned around. I didn’t know if he was really going to punch the guy or not.

The man held his left hand up in surrender as he held his drink with his other hand. He was a middle-aged man with cola-colored hair and a bushy mustache. He wore highly pressed black pants and a maroon button-down shirt that opened a little too far down his chest.

“I don’t mean to stare,” the man said as he approached our table. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with the waitress. I happened to walk by as you were discussing last night’s incident with her.”

We stared at him for a moment and then I said, “Would you like to sit down?”

He placed his drink on the table. There was a large jagged scar on the back of his hand. “Yes, thank you.” He pulled out a chair and sat down. “Can I get you all something to drink?”

Now I was suspicious of this guy. Why was he being so friendly to complete strangers? “No, thank you,” I said.

Dangerfield waved off his offer. “No thanks, man. What did you have to tell us?”

The man leaned back in his chair as if having a chat with old friends. “I was here last night when it happened. Frankly, I’m surprised the place is open today, but the owner never misses a chance to make money.”

“Was the place crowded last night?” I asked.

He gestured with his arm. “It was about like this. Maybe a few more people.”

Even though I had been at the scene, I still didn’t know how crowded it had been inside the club.

“Anyway, I saw the dead guy in here, I guess right before he was killed.”

Word had spread quickly that the man had been murdered. I knew other reporters from both stations had shown up at the scene last night.

“What was he doing? Was he talking with anyone? Did he come alone?” I peppered him with questions in rapid succession. Dangerfield quirked an eyebrow in my direction.

“There was a woman who started talking with him. I didn’t even notice him until she was talking with him. They could have come here together for all I know.”

“How long did they talk?” Dangerfield asked.

He grabbed his glass. “Maybe five minutes. After that she left.”

“Did he speak with anyone after he talked with her?” I asked.

He took a swig and then said, “I don’t know. I left right after that.”

“That’s right. I forgot.” I was excited to get any information. I studied the man’s face, trying to ascertain if he was being honest. “So you had never seen Tim Swanson in here before?”

“Tim Swanson was his name? No, there are a lot of people who come in. I had never seen him before though. Like I said, he was just hanging out talking with the woman. I thought it was unusual.”

I furrowed my brow. “What was unusual about that?”

“Nothing in particular, I guess. Something about their conversation seemed off. You asked what he was doing here, so that’s what I saw.”

“Is there anything else?” I asked, hoping that there was more.

“I’m not a creep who watches everyone all the time. I watched them because they seemed so animated. That caught my attention. It was a slow night and there wasn’t a lot going on,” he said.

“Go on,” I pushed. I didn’t think there was ever a slow night in the French Quarter.

“Anyway, their conversation caught my attention. That and the woman was pretty.” A smile crinkled the corners of his brown eyes.

I nodded. “Yeah, that will usually attract a guy’s attention.”

“She had dark hair and big blue eyes.”

I was glad he’d said eyes.  

“After the woman spoke with him, she took off. I was walking out at the time too, so I watched her,” he said. 

“What did they do?” I asked.

“I couldn’t hear the conversation, but it looked serious. She walked down the street and got into a black car. As soon as she got in, the man behind the wheel started talking to her. They sat there for a couple minutes and I watched them.”

“Then what happened?” Dangerfield pressed.

He ran his hand through his thick hair. “Their conversation looked serious. It looked more as if they were arguing. She pointed her finger at him several times.”

I leaned forward in my chair. “Did they see you watching them?”

He took a drink from his glass, and then said, “I don’t think so. They never looked my way.”

“What did the man look like?” I asked.

“He was a big guy with dark curly hair. But I didn’t see much more than that,” he said.

“Do you know what kind of car it was?” Dangerfield asked.

“I think it was a newer Lexus. I’m not exactly sure about the year though. Sorry I can’t help more,” he said.

“You got a lot of information. That’s great,” I said.

He had probably gotten a ton more details than I would have gotten.

“Oh, there was one other thing. She was kissing the other man,” he said.

Dangerfield and I exchanged a look. My eyebrow shot up. “They kissed?”

“It wasn’t just a peck on the cheek. This man was really into the kiss. She didn’t appear to be so much though.”

“Was she romantically involved with both men?” I asked.

“I’m not sure. She only hugged the first guy.”

“Maybe he was just a friend,” I said.

He took another drink from his glass. “Anyway, I thought you all would want the information.”

“Yes, I am glad you shared it with us,” I gestured toward the bar. “Can I buy
you
a drink?”

He waved his hand. “I’m good. Thanks.” 

I hadn’t expected to get any info from a customer. I guessed the police hadn’t told him not to talk with anyone.

“Did you get any other info? Like the license plate number?” Dangerfield asked.

He took the last of his drink and shook his head. “No, I’m sorry I didn’t.”

That was too bad. What he’d shared was great, but I needed as much as I could get.

“Anything else you remember about the car?” I studied his face, waiting for his answer.

He shrugged. “It was dark and they pulled away from the curb quickly. It didn’t look as if she was trying to get away though, so I guess she wasn’t too mad at him.”

“Maybe he wouldn’t let her get out of the car. Did he look like he was mad?” I asked.

He tapped his fingers against the table. “He looked as if he was mad before he pulled away, but it seemed as if that was the way he looked all the time.”

I smirked. “I know that kind of guy.”

Dangerfield cast a look my way. Of course I didn’t mean Dangerfield. My boss was the one with the permanent scowl. 

“Did you speak with the cops? Did you tell them about what you saw?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yes, I did share the info with them as well.”

I’d have to ask Marc about it. I wished I had a better description to give him.

“Did the cops tell you anything else?” I asked.

“No, they didn’t say anything. All they did was take down the information and my name. By the way, my name is Matthew Hudson.” He shoved his hand toward Dangerfield.

Dangerfield shook his hand. “Bill Dangerfield, and this is Chase Charley.”

I rarely heard Dangerfield say my first name. It sounded kind of nice the way it rolled off his tongue.

“Thanks for the information. I really appreciate it,” I said.

I figured his information would do nothing for us, but I was glad we had something, even if a small bit of details.

Matthew smiled and stood from the table. “Good luck with the investigation.” He picked up his glass and walked away.

When he had returned to his table, I leaned closer to Dangerfield and said, “What do you make of all that?”

Dangerfield watched my lips for entirely too long. “It doesn’t give us much to go on really.”

“I’m glad he told us, but you’re right, it doesn’t do much good.” I glanced over at the table, but Matthew wasn’t looking my way anymore. For that I was thankful. “Maybe Matthew thought we were the police. I think that would made it easier for him to spill all the details,” I said.

“Whatever makes him happy. More than likely he recognized us from TV. It’s good info, but what will we do with it?”

I sighed and leaned back in my chair. “A black car doesn’t really help us narrow it down much. I want to know who this woman is.” I drummed my fingers against the table.

“I bet the police want to know who she is too,” Dangerfield said.

“I’ll see if Marc can give me any information,” I said.

“You’re still talking to him?” Dangerfield asked.

I smiled. “Yes, I am still talking to him. He’s a nice man.”

Dangerfield nodded. “I’m sure he is.”

“You don’t sound so sure about that,” I said.

Dangerfield shrugged and looked out over the club. Obviously he wasn’t going to answer that question. It didn’t matter because I already knew the answer.  

“What do we do to hunt down this car?” I asked. “We have to at least look for it.”

He scrubbed a hand across his face in frustration. “I guess we could give it a try, but I don’t want to get my hopes up too much.”

“We’ll find out if anyone Tim Swanson knew owned a black car.”

“I just hope not everyone he knew had a black car. Maybe he didn’t know the woman in the black car at all.” Dangerfield studied my face.

“True. It could have been the first time he’d ever seen her,” I said.

Why was Tim Swanson here last night? Had he come here often or was it the first time he’d come here?

“Maybe the man and the woman lured him here so they could murder him,” I said. “They saw him probably minutes before he was murdered.”

“But Matthew watched them drive away.”

“He says he left after he watched them drive off. They could have circled around and come back,” I said.

Dangerfield nodded. “That’s true. Nice work, Sherlock.” 

I rubbed my temples. “This gives me a headache. Maybe we’re taking on too much with this. Maybe I don’t have the skills needed for this level of investigation.”

He tapped the table with his index finger for emphasis. “We didn’t get where we are by not being good at what we do.”

Dangerfield had seemed a little dejected just a minute ago. I wondered what had perked him up. He had a point though. We had worked hard on the cases we’d done, even if they were nothing compared to a murder investigation. 

“I suppose you’re right about that,” I said.

Dangerfield’s eyes lit up with a smile. “Between the two of us, I bet we can discover a lot.”

I stared at him, studying his handsome features. He really did want us to work together on this.

Matthew got up from his table and walked past us. “Good luck,” he said with a smile.

I waved.

“Thanks again,” Dangerfield said.

Matthew walked out of the bar. I looked at the time on my phone. “He must be a regular here. This is about the time of the murder last night.”