Reed Ferguson Mystery series Box Set 2 Page 12

  “Huh?”

  “I knew I was missing something. How was it that Shane had access to the Vanguard site after hours? He’s just a low-level worker, so how does he have keys to get into the site? It’s because someone higher up gave him the keys. And how could they take all that stuff without someone knowing? It’s because someone did know: Fitzhugh. He looks the other way while Matt purchases more materials than they need. Then they sell it off.”

  “Hey, you woke me up and I can barely think. Can you back up?” Cal asked.

  “Sorry.” I slowed down and filled him in. “I’m going to talk to Fitzhugh now,” I finished.

  “Watch your step. If Fitzhugh did kill Gary, who knows what he’ll do when he’s caught.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “How does Deuce figure into all this?”

  “He must’ve been a threat,” I said. “Although I don’t see how.”

  “You think Fitzhugh will tell you what happened to Deuce?”

  “The jig is up, so he’s got to.”

  “What if he murdered Deuce?” Cal asked. “Man, it’s going to destroy Ace and Bob.”

  “I know.”

  I hung up. The reality that Deuce might be gone was hitting both of us. And what do you say to that?

  Ten minutes later I parked on the street in front of the Vanguard site. I fed coins into a meter and walked onto the job site. The buzz of saws and pounding hammers cut through the morning air. As I entered the office trailer, the cute secretary smiled up at me. Fitzhugh stood behind his desk in the corner, reading pink telephone messages. He glanced up at me.

  “Hey, what can I do for you today?” the secretary asked.

  “I need to speak to Chuck,” I said, fixing a hard gaze on him.

  Fitzhugh cocked his head, a puzzled look on his face. “What do you need?” he asked as he set the papers on the desk and turned around. “Have you found Deuce?”

  “No, but I think you know about that. And about Gary,” I said. “Quite an operation you have, along with Gary, Shane, and Matt. How’d you get Deuce involved?”

  Fitzhugh turned a sickly white as his secretary glanced from him to me.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

  “Ah, but you do.” I gestured at the secretary, who looked at me, baffled. “You want to discuss this where everyone can hear?”

  Fitzhugh swallowed hard. “Karen, can you give us a moment?” he said to her.

  She puckered her lips, now appearing a bit miffed. “You want me to leave?”

  “Yes,” Fitzhugh said. “Why don’t you take a break and grab a cup of coffee at Starbucks.”

  “Uh, sure, Chuck,” she said, standing up. “I’ll be back in fifteen.”

  Karen grabbed her purse from under the desk and walked past me, throwing me another bewildered look.

  “I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Fitzhugh said as the door closed behind her. “It’s just a misunderstanding.”

  I shook my head as I moved into the room. “There’s no misunderstanding. I’ve got you cold. Want to know how?” I leaned against Karen’s desk. Fitzhugh stared at me but didn’t answer. “I’ve got pictures of Shane Mundy selling materials to Paxton Electric. Want to bet I can find other companies he’s sold stuff to? I have a list of companies from Gary’s house. I’ll bet they’ve all been buying discounted materials from Shane and Gary.” I paused. Fitzhugh licked his lips but remained silent. “Now where did Shane get all that extra material?” I paused again. Fitzhugh stonewalled. “Okay, I’ll tell you what I think. You see, I also know about Matt McClellan and Shane. I’ve got pictures of Shane taking materials from this job site the other night, and then storing those materials at McClellan Concrete. This is how it goes, and –” I held up my hands, “correct me if I’m wrong – you get Matt, a subcontractor, to purchase more materials than he needs for a particular job. You sign off on the purchases, and Matt and his buddies take the extra materials and sell them –”

  “No,” Fitzhugh finally found his voice.

  “And then you all split the profits.”

  Fitzhugh shook his head slowly.

  “How much are you all making?” I asked. “I’ll bet it’s a nice little chunk of change. Doesn’t hurt when the economy’s like it is, right?”

  “It’s not true,” Fitzhugh said.

  “I’ve witnessed it all,” I said. “And I also overheard Matt tell Shane that he could set aside some of what he’d stolen to sell on the side.”

  “No,” he said, with less conviction.

  “Is that what pushed you over the edge? You found out the guys were skimming off what you took? So you went to Gary’s and killed him?”

  “I didn’t kill him.”

  “I’ve witnessed it,” I said forcefully. “And I’ll bet Matt and Shane will talk. Do you think they won’t sell you out to keep from getting in trouble?”

  “All right, stop.” Fitzhugh held up a hand, defeated. “You’re right.” He sank into his desk chair and stared at the floor, his elbows resting on his knees. “It’s been going on for a while. It didn’t start at as much, just a little bit here and there, easy stuff to sell elsewhere. And it was just between Matt and me. Then he got Gary and Shane involved, and we’ve been making a lot more, overbuying for multiple job sites, then taking the extra and selling it off to other small companies.”

  “How come you never got caught?”

  “We were careful. It’s never too much to be noticed, and I approve it all, so no one’s the wiser.”

  “What about the other guys skimming some off?”

  He glanced up, anger flashing across his face. “Yeah, that was stupid. It only complicates things. Too many people involved, and I can’t control it anymore. That sets us up to be noticed and caught.”

  “So on Sunday night you went over to Gary’s and you killed him.”

  “No.”

  “The next-door neighbor identified you,” I said.

  Fitzhugh opened his mouth but nothing came out. He hung his head. “I went over there to talk.”

  “With a gun?”

  “Just to talk,” he repeated emphatically. “I took the gun because Gary’s a hothead, and I wanted him to know I meant business, but that’s all. I told him that he was risking the whole operation, and if he didn’t stop he’d be out, and he got mad. I pulled the gun on him, just to keep him in check, but he rushed me. And the gun…just…went off. It was an accident.”

  “An accident?”

  His shoulders slumped and his head dipped lower. “I never meant for it to happen,” he murmured. “I’ve got a wife and kids.”

  I stared at him, vacillating between anger and disgust. The phone rang, loud in the stillness. Fitzhugh didn’t move.

  “Okay, so you killed him,” I finally said. “Then what?”

  Fitzhugh looked up at me, his face twisted in anguish. “I’ve never seen a dead body,” he said. I knew the feeling. “I thought about TV shows, and fingerprints, so I used my shirt on the front doorknob, let myself out, ran to my truck, and drove off. I didn’t think anyone saw me.”

  “The neighbor looked out. She described you and the Criss Cross Construction logo on your truck.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I figured it was just a matter of time before the police caught up to me.” He let out a mirthless laugh. “But I wasn’t counting on you.”

  “I’m underestimated a lot,” I said. “You were good, I’ll give you that. Acting so cool when I came and talked to you.”

  “I had to concentrate on the cement pouring so you wouldn’t see how nervous I was.”

  “So…what about Deuce? How does he figure in all this?” I desperately wanted to throttle him so he’d tell me where Deuce was, but I didn’t want him to scare him into silence.

  “Gary asked him to help out. I think he thought he could get Deuce to help, but pay him a lot less. And because Deuce is…” he shrugged.

  “A little slow and a lot naïve?” I said.
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br />   He nodded. “Maybe Deuce wouldn’t figure it out, and Gary could make more money. I didn’t know anything about it until last Friday night. That’s when Gary told me that Deuce wanted out and was threatening to say something.”

  “Did you kill him?” I asked, a heavy, hard knot in the pit of my stomach.

  “No!” Fitzhugh shook his head. “Of course not! I think Deuce is a great guy and I was furious that Gary’d gotten him involved. All I did was talk to Deuce.”

  “Deuce received a call from Gary’s phone that night, asking him to go back to B 52’s.”

  “Yeah,” Fitzhugh said. “Gary went to the bathroom and I noticed his phone on the coffee table. I called Deuce and asked him to meet me.”

  “That way nothing could be traced back to you.”

  “Yeah.” Fitzhugh grimaced. “I left Gary’s and met Deuce at the bar. We talked and I told him that we’d give everything back and that he didn’t need to report us.”

  “Did he believe you?”

  Fitzhugh forced a half-smile. “You know Deuce.”

  I sighed because I did. “He trusted you all, and you took advantage of him. What’d you do to him?”

  “Nothing! After we talked, I went back to my car and Deuce walked away. I assumed he was going home.”

  “What?” I crossed the room and stared down at him. “You don’t know where he is?”

  “No! I didn’t do anything to him, I swear! He was walking down the street as I drove off.” Fitzhugh gave me pleading eyes. “You gotta believe me.”

  “No, I don’t ‘gotta believe you’. And unlike Deuce, I am going to report you. Maybe the police can get you to talk.”

  Fitzhugh nodded, all the fight gone. “I know. Go ahead. But I didn’t do anything to Deuce.”

  I pulled out my cell phone and called the police.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  It didn’t take too long for Detective Sarah Spillman and her cohorts, Detectives Moore and Youngfield, to show up. When someone calls to say he has apprehended a murderer, the police tend to move quickly. But if I thought Spillman would greet me as a conquering hero, I was wrong.

  “You, wait for me outside,” she ordered as she stepped into the trailer. “Spats, get Reed’s statement.”

  Spats looked bored as he pulled out a pen and notepad. “Right this way, sir.”

  Did I detect sarcasm when he said sir? I followed him outside.

  “You know the drill,” he drawled.

  “Can’t I wait?” I said. “Spillman’s going to come out and I’m going to have to repeat everything.”

  “Wise guy,” he growled.

  “I try.”

  He frowned at me and I gave in, telling him what led me to Fitzhugh. I had to admit, I felt a swelling of pride at what I’d put together, but it died when I said I still didn’t know where Deuce was.

  “What’s going on?” Karen asked as she approached, carrying a Starbucks cup. She nodded at me. “I’ve been waiting for you to leave.”

  Spats jerked his head at her. “Who’s she?”

  “Office manager,” I murmured.

  Spats went over to her, talking as he guided her to a bench in front of the trailer. He sat her down and walked back to me. Karen stared into space, more puzzled than ever.

  As Spats returned, Spillman emerged from the trailer, followed by Moore, who led Fitzhugh in handcuffs to the sedan. By this time, a few construction workers had stopped what they were doing and approached the trailer. It wouldn’t take long for the buzz to switch from saws to conversation about the arrest.

  “I’ll take over,” Spillman said to Spats. “Go with Moore. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  Spats handed his notepad to her and walked off.

  “So,” Spillman appraised me. “The great detective figures out the case.”

  “If you say so.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she cocked her head at me, then read through Spats’ notes.

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling us everything?” she said, looking up at me.

  Maybe because I left things out, I thought but wisely didn’t say. I shrugged.

  “What happened to your eye?”

  “Bar fight,” I said.

  She tipped her head up and down, just once, like I’d seen her do before. It seemed to be her way of showing her skepticism. “You just happened to be around Gary’s house and you saw Shane, so you decided to follow him, and that led you to Matt,” she glanced at the notepad, “and you observed Shane selling materials to an electrical company, and that led you here.”

  “No, I thought Matt might’ve killed Gary, so I asked –”

  “Oh, right, the neighbor.” Another glance at the notepad. “Linda. And she identified Chuck Fitzhugh as the one who was at Gary’s on Sunday night.”

  “Right. And then I came here and Chuck confessed.”

  “Just like that,” she said.

  “Just like that.” I smiled at her.

  She gazed at me for a few beats. “Uh huh.”

  “I found Gary’s killer, shouldn’t that count for something?”

  “It does. But we were close. Just needed a little more time.”

  I shook my head. “Unfortunately I don’t have much time.”

  A hint of softness crossed her face. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

  “Chuck didn’t say anything else to you about Deuce?”

  “No. He said he left Deuce at B 52’s and doesn’t know what happened to him.”

  “I guess I’m back to square one,” I said. A long silence ensued. She reread her notes; I stared at the trailer. “What’s going to happen to Chuck?”

  “If he can prove it happened like he says, he’ll probably get charged with involuntary manslaughter. And he’ll face felony charges for the little scheme he had going.” Spillman started to walk away, but turned back to me. “Not a bad bit of detective work,” she said.

  “I didn’t find my friend.”

  “We’ll keep looking, too.” She paused, then exhaled. “I’m not making any promises, but if you need something, let me know.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’ve got to go arrest Matt and Shane. How about you stay away?” The gruff demeanor returned.

  “You don’t have to worry about me,” I said. “I’ve had more than enough of them.”

  It was after noon when I finally left the Vanguard site. To cap off my discouragement at not finding Deuce, I also had a parking ticket. I threw it on the passenger seat, making a mental note to talk to Spillman about it. Maybe she could get it dismissed…after all, I did find Gary’s killer.

  On the way home, I called Bob and filled him in. He was disappointed and completely distraught about Deuce. I felt like I’d let him and Ace down, but he assured me I’d done all I could. Once home, I fixed a sandwich and ate at the kitchen table, which was unusual for me. I tended to eat in front of the TV, and if nothing good was on, I’d pop in one of my favorite film noir. But I wasn’t in the mood for that. I took a few bites of the sandwich, then left it on the plate as I stared out the window. I kept going over everything that happened, trying to find something I might’ve missed. I finally went downstairs and knocked on the Goofball Brothers’ door.

  “Reed, hey,” Ace said, letting me inside. “What’s going on? Bob told me what happened. I was hoping you’d found Deuce. I…” His lower lip quivered.

  “I’m trying, buddy,” I said. “But I’m coming up empty. I thought I’d go through his stuff again, see if there’s something I overlooked.”

  “Okay, no problem.”

  He let me in, then followed me into Deuce’s room, where I gave it the once-over. As before, I came up with nothing, and stared up at the ceiling in frustration. “What am I missing?”

  “I dunno.” Ace looked as perplexed as ever.

  “How about we look in his truck again?”

  “Okay.” Ace got the keys and we went outside.

  I unlocked the truck and scoured the cab and t
he truck bed again. Just the same stuff as before. I leaned against the seat and grabbed the papers that had been lying on the floor. “And none of this means anything to you?”

  Ace shrugged. “Not really.”

  I thumbed through them again, noting the list of companies Deuce had scrawled on one of the pieces. I thought about it for a moment, reading the list again and again.

  “I wonder…”

  “What?” Ace asked.

  “I need a computer.” I hurried around the side of the building and took the steps two at a time to my condo with Ace at my heels, chattering in confusion.

  “Reed, what’s going on?”

  “This list of companies,” I said as I logged onto my computer and connected to the Internet. “T. F. Byers Construction. That’s a big company. I’ve seen their name on some of the major road construction projects around the city. Look at the types of projects they’ve done: a performing arts center, a high school, office buildings, and a hospital, all over the country. And these other companies, like Pearson,” I typed the name into the search engine. “Ah ha! Look, it’s a big company as well, building similar projects to Byers.” I searched on each company name and they were all large companies who specialized in massive construction projects.

  Ace looked at me blankly. “So?”

  “Why would Deuce have a list of these kinds of companies in his truck?”

  The blank looked remained. “Reed, how would I know?”

  “It’s a rhetorical question,” I said.

  “Re-what?”

  “Never mind.” I stood up and went to my bedroom. I found the list from Gary’s house, still in another pair of jeans. I hurried back to the office and sat down, comparing Gary’s list to the one Deuce created.

  “Look, the list Gary made is of smaller companies where he could sell electrical supplies or rebar – smaller stuff. It’s completely different from Deuce’s.”

  “I don’t get it,” Ace said, scratching his head. “Why would Deuce have a list like this? He couldn’t care less about that.”

  “Does he know people from these other companies?”

  “I doubt it.” The vacant look on Ace’s face remained. “Maybe he was job-hunting.”