Crunch Time

I said, “Donna, breaking and entering is against the law. What did you mean by unsecured listings? Don’t your rentals have security systems?”

“Only high-end homes have security systems. This couple prefers cozy little cottages, preferably deep in the woods. They break a window, open the back door, and let themselves in. They bring along their food and wine, and one time, two sleeping bags that could be zipped together. How cozy. I wanted to get the bags tested for DNA, but the cops wouldn’t do it. They said it was too expensive and sleeping bags that I had handled would not be evidence of a crime. Then I wanted to have the genetic testing done on my own. But when I heard how much it cost, I didn’t.”

I thought about the couple who’d showed up at my door the other day, along with their real estate agent. Had they been casing Jack’s place? It wasn’t a rental. Then again, it didn’t have a security system.

I said stubbornly, “You really should talk to the police again about the break-ins. If you have sleeping bags, they might be able to trace back—”

She waved this away. “I just wanted them to do DNA testing. I don’t want the breaking-and-entering part to get out. You know how the sheriff’s calls always appear in the Mountain Journal. If I tell the cops I have squatters balling away in my rentals, then everyone will want to do it. And nobody, but nobody, wants to rent a place where squatters have broken a window and left wine bottles, plastic wineglasses, cracker crumbs, and cheese wrappers. Those things attract rodents. Nobody is going to rent a place where there are rodent droppings, and my assistant and I can’t check every single listing every day to make sure they’re clean.” Donna shivered. “The whole thing is disgusting.”

“You could hire a private detective.”

She shook her head again. “Actually, a nice investigator did come to see me. He had a client who was trying to track down a couple having an affair. His client thought the adulterers might be meeting in vacant rentals.” She took a bite of cheese. “But last night, on the news? I heard the guy died. So I have no idea if he discovered them.”

I felt as if I’d been slapped. “The detective? It was Ernest McLeod?”

“You knew him?”

“I did.” I omitted the part about Yolanda and Ferdinanda living with him, fearing she might jump to conclusions. “Do you . . . know who his client was? The one trying to track down the people having the affair?”

“He wouldn’t tell me.” She rubbed her hands together and stood up. “Thanks for the cake. My assistant is showing a couple of properties and was supposed to bring back sandwiches, but who knows where she is now. Anyway, I was just going off to one of my listings, a small A-frame, when you showed up. A neighbor reported seeing a strange car there, so I was going to check. Whoever it is, they’re probably gone now.”

I stood up, too, but was reluctant to leave. “Why don’t you let me do it? Ernest McLeod was a friend of mine, and I’d like to help you catch these people. Also, if you have some old cheese wrappers and plastic glasses they left, I might be able to figure something out. I am a food person.”

She pointed one of those red-painted nails at me. “I don’t want this in the paper.”

“I won’t call the paper,” I promised.

“You’d better not.” She stared at me.

What was with this woman? I wanted to ask her if she’d seen a stocky bald guy. I wanted to know what her relationship to Humberto was, if he gave her the office rent-free, if he had access to her rentals, and if he paid her to have that access. But Donna was both suspicious and hard to keep on track. Even though I was frustrated, I didn’t want her to become distracted again.

“Um, Donna? If I have a list of your unsecured rentals, I might be able to do a better search.”

She rifled through the papers on her desk and came up with a single sheet. “Ten listings without security systems.”

When I asked, “Which one had the neighbor who called you?” Donna leaned down and put a red check mark next to one address. I said, “Did she get a description of the car, or a license plate, maybe?”

“All this neighbor saw was a dark SUV in the driveway. I’m telling you, all this couple likes is cabins far from everything. Wait here a sec.” She went to a closet and pulled out a bag. “I don’t know why I kept this stuff, but I did. There are two sleeping bags in there, plus plastic glasses, some cheese wrappers, and an empty box of crackers. You ask me, these people are pigs.”

I opened the sack and immediately closed it. Like in the refrigerator, the scent of moldy food was overpowering. I stood up to wrap the cake. “Would you like the rest of this?”

“I’d love it, but I think it would just sit in my refrigerator, where I already have a bunch of old stuff. A cleaning crew was supposed to come through, but they didn’t. One more thing I have to deal with.”

An assistant. A cleaning crew. A gorgeous new office. “Oh,” I said, as if it had just occurred to me. “Humberto Captain built this office space? It’s gorgeous. I know Humberto,” I added.

Suspicion flared in her eyes. “Yes, he built this beautiful building. You see, I’m not prejudiced against Cuban-Americans.”

“This place is really top-notch. I used to cater in offices like this.”

She lifted her chin in defiance. “Well, he gave me a really good rate, so that somebody would be in here, you know, occupying the place.”

How could I ask her if he had access to all her files and keys without her clamming up? How could I find out if Humberto was the one who’d been looking in Yolanda’s rental windows? Was it possible that anyone besides Tom suspected that Humberto might have burned down Yolanda’s rental so that she would have to make other arrangements, like living with a private investigator who was getting close to discovering the gold and gems Humberto insisted he’d never stolen?

“Well, if you’re going out to that cabin, I guess I’d better make some calls,” Donna said. She gave me a solicitous look. “Actually, I’m thankful you’re doing this.”

“Oh, you’re welcome.” I put the rest of the wrapped cake, my thermos, and the list of unsecured rentals into my tote and tried to think of a way to take advantage of Donna’s sudden gratitude. “Is Humberto, does he show the offices that are available?”

“Goldy? You cannot put those two women into this office building. It’s against the law for people to live in an office building. And anyway, Humberto’s been great to me. Very generous. He would never agree to put them in here, and I would never ask.”

“You don’t understand,” I said patiently. “Humberto adores Yolanda and Ferdinanda. He came over first thing yesterday morning, when he heard they were living with me. He wanted to help.”

“Of course he did.”

“They told him they were fine. And, uh, Yolanda is making money, by helping me cater tonight.”

Donna shifted her weight to one foot and put her hand on her hip. Alas, the distrust was back. “I thought you were desperate to get these women out of your hair.”

“I’m just trying to do the right thing. If any one-story rentals come up, I’d love to hear about them.” I hoisted up the plastic bag, then picked up my tote. “I don’t mean to delay you, but you know the party we’re catering tonight?”

“The fund-raising supper. Thank you for doing that, Saint Luke’s really needs the money.”

“Well,” I said, continuing blithely, “there are going to be some wealthy people at the dinner. Sometimes clients ask me questions, like ‘Do you know if there are any good deals on offices in town?’ And I thought, since Humberto will be at the Breckenridges’ place tonight, I could introduce him to—”

“I’ll be at the dinner tonight, so if anyone wants to know about office space at the Captain’s Quarters, I can introduce them to Humberto.” Donna moved around her desk to give me the bum’s rush out of her office.

I stood my ground. “Does Humberto himself show the offices? I mean, what if someone wants to lease an office right away? Does he have keys to all the offices?”

Donna clip-clopped to the door. “Yes, he has keys, yes, he shows the offices. He’s got big offices and little offices in this building. I do appreciate your going out to help me with the people breaking into the rentals.”

“Don’t worry, if I find out anything, I’ll call you. Maybe I’ll even figure out who your squatters are.”

She didn’t offer a reward, but she did open the door for me. I smiled as I left, as if we were old pals and I really would call her if I figured anything out.