Sherlock and Me (The Case of the Starry Night)

  “Mr. Big?”

  “Oh, you know. Whoever’s pulling the strings here, the guy behind the curtain.”

  “Good one, but how do you know it’s a guy? It could be Sue O’Dell.”

  “…Possibly but probably not.”

  We were driving through the southern area of town, just alongside a golf course, by some very expensive homes. Houses in classic brick or stone with massive, green lawns and tall, mature trees dotting the landscape faced the road. Large paved driveways and sidewalks snaked through grassy areas with Porsches, Lexis or BMWs parked beside. Huge swatches of color from beds of flowers hugged the sides of homes or lined the sidewalks. Streetlamps, small and large, complimented the landscape design and accented the homes well.

  I pulled up to the address Warren had given Cindy and then drove another house down to park the car. He had valet parking for guests, but I didn’t want to do that. She got out of the car, picked up her wrap and leaned back down to talk in the window.

  “You okay?”

  “Good… You?”

  “Don’t do anything crazy, Lucy.”

  “…Back at you, partner.”

  “Wait for my call…”

  She straightened to leave, then leaned back down.

  “Lucy.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I forgot to mention that I got you invited to this little soiree.” She beamed.

  My head jerked up. “You did?”

  “Sure, so technically you’re a guest, not a burglar.”

  “A technicality but an important one. Thanks, BFF.”

  I gave her a thumbs-up. She put on her wrap and walked her killer heels down the sidewalk to Sandstrom’s house. I started the car and decided to find a better place to park – maybe towards the back of the property… away from prying eyes. Good thing I had a little dark car…not so easy to spot.

  After going around his block once, I had a pretty good idea where to park my car where it wouldn’t seen, but I could still get to it easily. I decided to stow the car on the other side of his property along a back street. I got out, locked my purse in the trunk and tucked my cell phone in a pocket. I reached over to pick up some dirt from a yard to rub on my license plate, obscuring a few numbers. Just in case – It doesn’t hurt to be too careful… A last glance at the car on the quiet street away from streetlights, and I walked quickly towards the back of Warren’s house.

  All these homes had open areas in back and front – no fences. Thank God. If I’d had to hop over a fence and deal with a guard dog, I might be in real trouble. No fence, no dog… so far. But it looked like he had a security detail, at least one guy, walking the property, helping guests and watching. Great… How could I get around him?

  I crouched in the massive bushes in the backyard and checked out as many windows as I could see. The whole house was lit up from inside -- Guests were overflowing to the back covered patio and all over the first floor. Food and drink were flowing too and so the security guy was busy with tipsy guests and people dropping plates of food. Maybe he’d be too busy to notice me…

  This was certainly a rich neighborhood and a classy house, but Warren apparently was letting the good times roll. Music was oozing out the windows and doors and I could see people inside and out dancing. I spotted Cindy once in the living room. I’d left my hideout in the bushes to get ready for her call. There was a fire ladder attached to the side of the house that led up to dark and unpopulated rooms on the second floor. That was probably where I was going to go. For now, I stayed behind a maple tree whose massive trunk had split into two directions. That was lucky for me because I could hide easily behind and look out through the split trunk.

  I waited.

  Glancing at my cell phone, Cindy had been in the house for thirty minutes when I saw her go through the kitchen. Sandstrom was close behind her and I wondered what she was going to do. In another ten minutes, she sent a text.

  ‘In upstairs bathroom. Opened back window. Office 2nd floor corner.’

  I texted back, ‘Ok.’

  Watching for that security guy, I crept to the side of the house and made it unseen to the ladder. From there, I could see the window Cindy had referred to and started climbing. It was darker on this side of the house than any other, so I had that advantage. Unfortunately, that was also an attractive feature for a pair of tipsy lovebirds who decided to wander my way. I was more than halfway up the ladder, when this drunken pair came around the corner, flopped against the house and started to paw one another.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 22

  Looking down, I blinked unbelievably when she grabbed his zipper and jerked down his pants. His hands were busy pushing her dress up and wrapping one of her legs around his hips. Lots of moaning… Between the thrusting and the dueling tongues, I don’t think they would have noticed me if I’d fallen off the ladder on top of them.

  They were about done when I heard someone call out, “Tiffany?” I heard her say, “Shit, that’s my husband,” which made him finish and zip up his pants pretty quickly. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud. She left first, smoothing down her dress and hair, while he went the other way, tucking in his shirt.

  Criminy! What a show…I climbed up the rest of the way and eased over to the opened window. There was a good ledge and I stepped on it from the ladder. The window flew up and I nearly died of heart failure. Cindy grabbed me before I fell off the ledge.

  “Damn, Cindy! Could you have given me a heads-up that you’d be here.”

  “Shh…” she whispered. “I tried but got no response from you.”

  “Yeah, well, I was watching a quick peep show.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  “Okay…I have to get back. Warren will be looking for me. Get out the same way. I’ll keep him busy.”

  So Cindy left.

  Once in, I took out my little penlight and began to search the office.

  As home offices go, this one was spectacular and straight out of a magazine. Sandstrom must have rented someone’s house who was away in Europe for half a year or something. Enormous wooden bookshelves covered one wall with a slanted roofline coming down to meet the vast windows. Computers, printers, fax machines, desk lamps… anything you might need in an office was here in abundance.

  This room stretched across the back and opened to massive windows covering half the room of the house. That would make my snooping harder. It might be possible for someone on the lawn downstairs to see me if they were still sober and looking up. I imagined the security guy might be doing just that.

  So my trusty penlight went back in my pocket for the time being. There were fragments of light coming in from the outside porch lights, so I could see my way around the room fairly well. I crept purposefully over to the desk and started seeing what I could see.

  Books, paper… paper and more paper. Jeez… did this guy ever throw anything away? I saw ledgers and blueprints, yellow post-it notes and mail stacked high. I’d been searching for several minutes and knew I couldn’t stay too long. I was thinking about beating it out of there, when my eyes spotted a small card with a flower on it sticking out from under the desk mat. I pulled the card out and it seemed feminine, not matching the ambience of the rest of the room.

  I got out my penlight and shined it on the card. Frilly on the outside, chilly on the inside…

  Warren,

  I’m not discussing this anymore. You need to pay me what I asked and I’ll be leaving town with sealed lips. No more excuses or cockamamie stories.

  S.

  Well, that was certainly interesting. Who says ‘cockamamie’ anymore? And what stories was she talking about? I assumed the S was for Sue O’Dell. Apparently, their little talk the other night in the parking lot, car to car, didn’t net her the result she was seeking. Looked like blackmail to me…

  I pulled out my smart phone and took a few pictures of the card – front and inside. Then I put it back where I f
ound it.

  Tucking the phone into the deep pocket of my hoodie, I did another quick look around and decided to get the hell out of there. I was heading for my exit window when I heard voices in the hallway. The sounds were muffled until they were closer, then the voices were obviously just outside the room. I hurriedly looked for a hiding place and saw it in a darkened corner under the massive L-shaped desk. I ran over and crouched down in the corner just as the door opened. Damn! Why hadn’t I thought to lock the door?

  With the opening, came a spread of light that I prayed wouldn’t wash over me.

  “Look, Tiffany…I saw you leave with that guy. Don’t tell me something didn’t go on back there,” said an unhappy male voice.

  “Rex! What are you accusing me of?” snapped Tiffany. “You should be ashamed of yourself!”

  “I should be ashamed? What the hell were you doing back there? Tell me.”

  I could have told Rex what he wanted to know, but no way was I going to give up my hiding place. Besides, I was beginning to enjoy the little soap opera going on around me. Tiffany must be quite the looker…

  “Nothing… He just had a question about some property we own. That’s all.”

  “…I’ll bet.”

  “Honest, Rex. I love only you… Don’t you know that?”

  Her voice had subtly shifted from defensive to seductive. I had to bite my lip again to keep from chuckling out loud.

  “…You do? Really?”

  Rex must be pretty gullible…

  And then I heard a thud against the door, another zipper unzipping and the beginning of more panting and moaning. I peeked out to see Tiffany in action and this gal had the situation in hand – literally. She had poor Rex shoved against the door and her hands down the front of his pants. I ducked back in my hidey-hole as he was pushing up her dress and tearing off her panties… I heard a not so delicate rip.

  For Pete’s sake… Twice in less than an hour? This woman was something else…Apparently these guys sure thought so.

  Luckily for me, Tiffany didn’t spend as much time having sex with Rex as she did with the unidentified guy behind the house. Their pants and moans became louder until they hit their peaks and the panting lessened. Thank God… I needed to get out of here sometime. Tiffany was making it as hard for me as she was for these men… I needed to escape before she found another guy and went for round three. I sure wouldn’t put it past her…

  He was kissing her and saying he was sorry… Could she forgive him? I rolled my eyes clear up into my sockets… Poor Rex. Apparently, a little sex and he could be made to heel.

  Would they ever leave?

  Finally, he opened the door and they swept out of the room all lovey-dovey. I wanted to puke in the wastebasket I was hiding behind. I crawled out from under the desk and walked over to the window. Opening it a bit, I heard noises from down below. I could see the security guard rounding up a few drunken guests and trying to corral them another way.

  I pulled back and took out my phone. I sent Cindy a text for help. Waiting a few moments and when she didn’t respond, I figured she was tied up with Sandstrom. I sat down in a desk chair and weighed my options. I was going to need help getting out of here and I couldn’t just walk out through the house. I needed a diversion – who could I get? I looked down at my phone.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 23

  Joe answered, but he sure wasn’t happy.

  “…You’re kidding, Lucy! You want me to ring the doorbell and create some kind of diversion?”

  “Yes, Mr. Warner. This is the help I need that you said you’d provide. Remember that conversation?”

  “Well…what…should I do? How do I create a diversion?”

  I thought a minute.

  “…Got it! Tell Sandstrom you’re a neighbor and his party is making too much noise. You’ll call the police if he doesn’t quiet down.”

  “Sandstrom?”

  “Rich guy. Silver hair. Expensive suit. Hopefully, his security guard, whom I am trying to avoid, will show up at the door with him. Cindy’s here too, so don’t look surprised if you see her.”

  “…Too much noise?”

  “Yeah. I need you to get really pissy, so that guard will be with Sandstrom.”

  “Okay…I guess. This isn’t exactly in my job description as your advisor, Lucy.”

  “…You gave me the cap, sir…”

  He laughed at that. “All right… So this is all my fault, huh? Okay, I’m coming to save you, Miss James. Give me ten minutes. I was just watching my favorite program.”

  “Masterpiece Theatre? In a smoking jacket?”

  “…You’re cute. Ten minutes.”

  I hung up and sat there. I sent a coded text to Cindy so she’d know something was up. She’d certainly figure it out once she saw Mr. Warner at the door.

  I sat at the desk, bored as a stone, watching the minutes tick by on my cell phone. After fifteen, I was beginning to wonder what the heck was keeping Mr. Warner. That’s when I did a foolish thing…

  I walked over and glanced out the window, putting my hand on the inside ledge. I could see the security guy down below, just as I felt something tingling on my hand. Looking down, my heart nearly stopped when I saw a spider taking a stroll on my skin. My hand involuntarily flew up and hit the window with a smack! Below someone yelled, “Hey!” and I didn’t need two guesses as to who that might be. I ventured a quick look at the same time the security guard was looking up. He just had to be there… Crap – This wasn’t going according to plan.

  I blinked at him and his mouth dropped open when he saw me. He started up the ladder going faster than a freight train. I froze. My mind finally kicked in gear -- I closed and locked the window, then ran to the door and locked it.

  Super… He might be locked out, momentarily, but I was also locked in. Not a great situation.

  I hid out of sight when a face came up to the window. He couldn’t budge it and I was hoping like hell he wouldn’t break it. Apparently, he changed tactics and I heard him rushing back down the ladder. For an instant, I thought he might try to remove the ladder, but it must have been permanently built into the side of the house. He jumped on the ground. What he did next, I can only guess.

  He would probably run through the house, upstairs, grab his key and open the door. I hurried to the window, trying to get it unlocked. Unfortunately, my shaking hands used precious minutes before they began functioning normally. I finally got the window open and I was heaving myself out, when I heard him running up to the door. Man, that guy could sprint! His key was rattling in the lock and I was out on the ledge, my heart in my mouth.

  I jumped to the ladder and almost missed it. Clinging to a rung and nursing a banged-up knee, I climbed as fast as I could down the ladder. The guard stuck his head out the window and saw me! Shit! I heard him yell to someone that he’d be right there. I climbed faster and jumped off the last two rungs. Then I started running like a deer towards my car.

  What happened to Mr. Warner? Maybe that’s what the man was responding about… But my mind wasn’t really concerned with anything at this moment except for escape.

  In the dark, I ran through the trees and bushes, branches smacking me every step of the way. If I could think, I might have thought about the bruises I was going to get. Running hard along the quiet neighborhood to my car, my mind had shut down. For a few minutes, all I heard was the sound of my own fleeing footsteps and then… I heard another set of footsteps behind me. I wasn’t about to look and pulled my key out of my pocket, hitting the open button of my key fob. The second I had the door open, I tucked myself into the driver’s side and stuck my key in the ignition with one slick move. Starting the car and pulling away, I finally sneaked a quick glance in my side mirror.

  Boy, the car manufacturer wasn’t kidding with that sentence on the mirror that things are closer than they look. I’d barely started driving when the guard was pounding on my bumper. Yikes! I hit the gas and turned a corner o
n two wheels praying the dirt still obscured my license plate number. Next time I break and enter, I’m using another car…

  * * *

  Just in case I was followed, I took a crazy route home, checking in my rearview every minute. When I was satisfied that no one was hot on my heels, or wheels as it were, I started to calm down and drove more slowly home.

  My heart was beginning to beat normally by the time I pulled into my parking space at the apartment. I turned off the ignition and just sat still, counting body parts and brain cells. It seemed that I was still in one piece and I made a resolution to start jogging again…

  Cindy got home about an hour later. She opened the door and called out, “Now where’s that hound we call Baskerville?” As usual, he took off going ninety miles an hour down the hallway, his doggy legs flying. She gathered him up and walked into the living room where I was wearily sitting and nursing a glass of wine.

  “I could use one of those too.”

  She put down Baskerville and headed for the kitchen, pouring herself a glass. Coming into the living room, she kicked off her killer heels and pulled the pins out of her hair. Her sunny hair fell around her shoulders and she shook her head, making the rest of her hair fall out of her upswept do.

  “Tough night?” I asked.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” she smiled, sipping her wine.

  “I’ll tell you my sad little story if you’ll tell me yours.”

  “… Fair enough.”

  * * *

  CHAPTER 24

  Cindy had had as tough as night as I did. For one thing, she’d had to put up with the constant advances of Warren Sandstrom III, who apparently thought he was God’s gift to women. Cindy thought otherwise.

  “Well, there were people absolutely everywhere,” she began, “and I think I could count on one hand how many of them were sober.”

  “… You, for one…” I helped.

  “I was practically the only one.”

  “It was a crowd, Cindy. How’d you do?”

  She nodded. “That threw me at first and I almost started to hyperventilate.”