“Did you point that out to them?”
“Yes,” Shelby nodded. “Then they said the killer could’ve been wearing gloves and tossed them into the river, along with the murder weapon.”
“Where exactly…did you find Robert?”
“Over there.” Shelby pointed to a spot between two boxwoods.
“I see.” Carlita gazed around the small park. “You stay here with Rambo and I’ll check it out.”
Carlita handed Shelby Rambo’s leash and took a tentative step toward the bushes. The grass had been trampled, but nothing else appeared suspect.
She circled the bushes, focusing her attention on the perimeter and then joined the young woman and Rambo. “I’m sure the investigators combed the place.”
The women began walking up the incline.
“Wait!” Shelby’s arm shot out. “I just remembered something Robert said.”
Chapter 10
Shelby pointed to the street sign. “Robert mentioned Harner Street and the reason I remember it now is it reminded me of a street I grew up on - Haymark Street.”
Carlita studied the street sign. She shifted her gaze beyond the sign, toward the river. “It’s close to the spot where you found Robert.”
“Let’s check it out.” Carlita and Shelby turned onto the street and walked to the corner, past a row of boarded up buildings.
“This is it?” Shelby wrinkled her nose. “There’s nothing here but a couple of abandoned buildings.”
The brick buildings were close together, so close Carlita could spread her arms and touch the fronts of two of them. Almost all of the windows were boarded up. One of them had a for-sale sign nailed to the plywood. “Our next step should be to try to figure out who owns these properties. If Robert mentioned them, they must be significant.”
When the women reached the corner, they climbed the small hill until they were standing on a busy thoroughfare that ran the length of the river.
They started to turn left, to head back to Walton Square when something caught Carlita’s eye. “The Journey’s End.”
“Where?” Shelby’s head whipped around.
“Over there. The news story I read mentioned Robert had been staying at a place called the Journey’s End. It looks like a B&B or maybe a hostel.” Carlita pointed at the two-story rambling Victorian house directly across the street.
The women waited for the light to change and let Rambo lead the way to the other side.
A white picket fence surrounded the property, giving off a warm, welcoming appearance. As they drew closer, the property showed signs of neglect.
Stray weeds sprouted between the cracks in the sidewalk. Although the exterior of the Victorian was impressive, Carlita noticed flaking paint and spots where bare wood was clearly visible. The hostel was in desperate need of a fresh coat of paint.
The women tentatively climbed the steps and approached the front door.
Shelby peered through the screen. “Hello?”
“The door is unlocked,” a gruff voice replied.
Shelby pulled the screen door open and stepped inside while Carlita looped Rambo’s leash around the railing. “We’ll be right back.” She patted his head and then followed Shelby into a dark, cramped entryway. The smell of mothballs, mixed with Pine-Sol filled the air.
“You gals looking for a place to stay?”
“No.” Shelby shook her head.
“Good. Cuz we don’t allow animals.”
Carlita studied the thin, bearded man seated at the desk. His sharp, gray eyes met hers and crinkled in the corners as he attempted to smile. “We don’t allow solicitation neither.”
“We’re not selling anything. Are you the proprietor?” Carlita asked.
“I’m Finch Porter. If you’re asking if I own this fine establishment, then the answer is yes. Who’s asking?”
“My name is Carlita Garlucci. This is my friend, Shelby. We heard Robert Towns was staying here at the Journey’s End, prior to his untimely death.”
“The authorities have already been here, questioning me about the man. I can’t tell you much more than what I told them. The man paid cash for his room and he told me his name was Bob Downs. He stayed here for four nights and left as quickly as he came.”
Finch snapped his fingers. “One minute he was here, the next he was gone. That was a few days back. As I told the police, I don’t know where he went after he left here.”
“I see,” Carlita said. “While Mr. Downs was staying here, did he have any visitors?”
“Nope.” Finch shook his head. “Course that’s not unusual and it’s also not unusual for guests to pay in cash and use fake names, either.”
Shelby shifted her feet. “Did Mr. Downs say or do anything that struck you as odd?”
Finch chuckled. “Young lady, nothing strikes me as odd anymore. I get all kinds of guests staying here from all over the world and each has a story. I stopped asking questions years ago. Mr. Downs kept to himself and didn’t cause any trouble.”
“Thank you, Mr. Finch.” Carlita turned to go. “We appreciate your time.”
“Wait!” Finch called out. “There is one more thing. I’m not sure what this Downs fella was up to, but this is the third time someone’s been by here asking about him. First, it was the cops, then another guy and now you two.”
Shelby lifted a brow. “Do you remember what the man looked like?”
“Kinda short, brown hair. He was wearing jeans and a brown shirt. I couldn’t pick him out of a crowd if I tried.”
“He was asking questions about Mr. Downs?” Carlita asked.
“Yep.” Finch nodded. “Pretty much the exact same questions you asked.”
Carlita reached into her purse and pulled out two twenty-dollar bills. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Porter.” She held out the cash. “If I leave my cell phone number with you, could you please give me a call if the man who stopped by here returns?”
“You bet.” Finch took the money from Carlita and shoved it into his front pocket before handing her
