The Damned Don’t Die, Reed Ferguson Private Investigator Mysteries: Book 16

Sample Chapter

CHAPTER ONE

“Reed Ferguson, don’t you look at me like I murdered someone.” Shirley Durocher was walking down the sidewalk in front of my condo building, which is in the Uptown neighborhood, just north of downtown Denver. “I know you’re a detective, but that doesn’t mean that everyone is up to no good.”

“No, Mrs. Durocher,” I said politely. I was squinting at her, but I wasn’t sure that meant I was looking at her funny.

“It’s Miss, and please, call me Shirley. Miss Durocher sounds so old.”

Shirley Durocher – a short, spitfire of a woman – was perhaps a little older than my own mother, and I automatically showed her the same courtesy and respect that I would’ve shown my mother.

“It’s a pleasant day, nice for October,” I said, still trying for courtesy.

Shirley playfully slapped my arm, then harrumphed in the same way that my own mother did so well. But she seemed a bit flirtatious, which kind of creeped me out. Then she gazed with beady dark eyes at Ace and Deuce Smith, my downstairs neighbors, who’d been talking with me before she walked up.

She pointed a bony finger at them. “You two need to watch what you’re doing, too,” she went on, her voice a warble and tinged with a southern twang. “You need to stay out of trouble.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison.

Shirley glanced around and poked her fingers through her dark hair. “I don’t know what’s happening in this neighborhood, things going on late at night, people spying on my house, but I tell you what, at our neighborhood meeting tonight, I’ll have a say about that.” Her eyes darted from Ace to Deuce. “Are you boys out gallivanting around the neighborhood, maybe snooping around my place, when you should be at home?”

“Of course not.” They again spoke at the same time.

Ace shifted from foot to foot nervously, and Deuce looked everywhere but at her. With the same blond hair cropped short and snowy gray eyes, the brothers could’ve been twins, and right now they looked – undeservedly – like chastened little boys. I’d affectionately dubbed them the Goofball Brothers because even though the elevator may not have reached the top floor, they were smart in their own way. They were also the kindest and most loyal friends a person could ask for, and they’d become like brothers to me.

“Ace and Deuce aren’t doing anything wrong,” I said.

“Well, all right, then,” Shirley pronounced. Then she gave me a sly smile.

Was she really flirting with me? I cleared my throat and looked away.

She fixed all three of us with a stern look, then continued on down the sidewalk. She soon passed Mr. Bonifacio’s house. He was sitting on the porch, and they stared at each other as she walked by. Ace, Deuce, and I tried not to watch her, and yet all three of us did, none of us daring to move lest we incur more of her unwarranted wrath. Then she went on to her house and disappeared inside.

“She scares me,” Deuce finally said, breaking the awkward silence.

Ace let out a long breath. “Me, too. She reminds me of Aunt Clarice.” He looked at Deuce. “You remember her?”

Deuce nodded. “She wasn’t very nice.”

“No, she wasn’t,” Ace said.

“And what does she mean about us spying on her?” Deuce asked. “We wouldn’t do that.”

Ace turned to me. “You’re not investigating Shirley, are you? I mean, you are a private investigator.”

I smiled and shook my head. “I just wrapped up some work for an insurance company, but that’s it.” I stared down the street at Shirley’s little two-story. “I don’t know anything about her.” Except that she was a crotchety woman.

“Deuce and I have tried to be nice to her, but she treats us like we’re criminals even though we’ve never done anything to her, or anyone else.” Ace’s face twisted up in frustration.

I crossed my arms. It was unusual for someone not to like the Goofballs. That said a lot about Shirley, and none of it good.

“Whenever I come home from work, that’s about the time she’s out taking a walk.” Deuce used his construction hardhat to point to her house. He’d just gotten off work about the same time he did every day. “She rarely has anything nice to say.”

I pursed my lips. “Where’s she from?”

“I heard she moved up here from Texas,” Deuce said.

“What’d she do for work?” I asked, imagining Shirley as the stereotypical spinster schoolmarm.

Ace shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I think she was a teacher,” Deuce said with a knowing nod.

The image was correct, I thought.

“She has a granddaughter that lives here in Denver,” Deuce went on, “but I don’t know if Shirley’s close to her.”

Ace stared at him in surprise. “How do you know that?”

“A while back I saw a woman with long brown hair coming out of Shirley’s house. I said hello and she got in her car and left.”

“Then how did you know who she was?” Ace asked pointedly.

“I asked Mr. McCulloch, who lives next door to Shirley. He told me that it was Shirley’s granddaughter. And he told me a little bit about her.”

“Ah,” Ace said, mystery explained. He looked at me. “We’re going to B 52s. You want to join us?”

“That sounds like fun,” I said.

B 52s is a local bar that we like to go to. I love it because its décor is of a bygone era, with old advertising posters from the ’40s and ’50s and plane propellers on the walls. They also play ’80s music, my favorite. The Goofballs love it because the bar has a back room with pool tables. Both brothers are born pool players, and they beat me most of the time.

“Oh.” I snapped my fingers. “Willie and I have to go to that neighborhood meeting tonight.”

Ace jerked his head down the street. “The one Shirley mentioned?”

I nodded.

“Have there been problems around here?” Deuce asked.

“Someone’s been breaking into some cars and homes,” I said. “And there’s been an increase in the homeless population. We just want to make sure the neighborhood stays safe.

“Bob may go to the meeting,” Ace said. “And he’s coming to B 52s afterward.”

Bob was the Goofballs’ older, and wiser, brother. He’d lived on the East Coast for a while, but several years ago had moved back to Colorado to keep an eye on his younger brothers. He’s an EMT, and works odd hours, but he stops by whenever he can.

“Okay,” I said. “When the meeting’s over, Willie and I might come over for a while.”

Deuce smiled. “Cool.”

Just then, my wife Willie – real name Willemena – walked around the side of the building and up to us.

“Hi, Willie,” the Goofballs said.

“Hi, guys.” Willie sidled up next to me and gave me a quick kiss, her green eyes dancing. She gestured at Deuce’s hardhat. “Just get home from work?”

“Some detective you are,” Deuce said with a laugh.

She punched his arm. “Oh, good one.”

Ace pointed to the Best Buy logo on his shirt. “Me, too.” Ace is an assistant manager at a nearby store. He knows a lot about electronics, so it’s the perfect fit for him.

“I can see that,” Willie said. She gave him a light tap on the arm, then ran a hand over her purple hospital shirt. “I just came from work, too.” Willie’s an ER admissions nurse and works at St. Joe’s Hospital. “What’re we talking about?”

“Shirley Durocher.” Ace’s voice dropped.

Willie shivered. “She’s kind of a cold woman, isn’t she?”

We all agreed.

“Both of us try to be nice to her, but she just frowns at us,” Deuce said.

“That’s not right,” Willie said. “If the two of you can’t make friends with someone, there’s something wrong with that person, not the two of you.”

Willie adored the Goofballs, and the feeling was mutual. They blushed. We all started up the sidewalk to the porch of our building.

“See you later,” Willie said.

We waved at the Goofballs, then I gave Willie a longer kiss as we headed around the side of the building to metal stairs that led up to our condo.

“How was your day?” I asked.

“It was busy, and I’m tired. I’d love to take a shower and watch some TV.”

“We have that neighborhood meeting tonight.”

She groaned. “Oh, that’s right.”

“I can go by myself if you want,” I said as I unlocked our door.

“No, I want to hear what they have to say. Oh, hello.” She bent down and picked up a black kitten, held him up to her face, and gave him a kiss. Then she turned him around in her hands and examined him while he meowed loudly. “I think Humphrey’s gaining weight, don’t you?”

I gazed into his big green eyes. “Yeah, the little runt is getting bigger.”

She pulled him toward her chest. “He’s not a runt,” she said in mock offense. Humphrey batted at her hands. “Goodness, he has a lot of energy.”

I shut the door, then reached out and scratched Humphrey’s head. “He’s my competition for your affections.”

“Don’t worry.” Willie patted my cheek, then stifled a yawn. “Boy, am I tired,” she repeated.

“Tell you what. I’ll fix some dinner while you shower and change.”

“That sounds great.”

She gave me a long and lingering kiss, and I pulled her close.

“Or, we can both skip the meeting,” I said huskily.

She pulled away. “Later, okay?”

She handed Humphrey to me. Then I watched as she headed down the hall to our bedroom.

Hey, I had to try, right?

 

I really enjoy this author and this series. Carefully crafted mysteries with engaging and realistic characters. Well worth reading. Great choice. ~Reader review