Page 11 of Out of the Shadows (Angelhart Investigations)

Not one person was at home when Margo knocked on each door in the building, except a guy on the ground floor who was renting

the space through Airbnb and didn’t see or hear anything.

Next, she went to the restaurant that Charlie had ordered from Thursday night. They made specialty pizzas with hand-tossed

crust and her stomach growled when she entered. She knew she was hungry when everything on the menu looked good. She ordered

a personal-size buffalo style—spicy buffalo sauce, chicken, pineapple, mozzarella and blue cheeses.

She sat at the bar and ordered a soda while she waited. It wasn’t too busy yet, so when the bartender put her drink down,

she asked, “Do you know Charlie Barrett? He comes in here quite a bit.” That was a guess. She pulled out her phone and brought

up the photo Logan had texted her, showed it to the woman.

“Charlie, yeah. Comes in at least once a week. Why?”

“I’m a private investigator and his ex-wife hasn’t been able to reach him for a few days. He was supposed to take the kids

this weekend and didn’t show.” Slight fib, but close to the truth. “I checked his condo, his work. She’s worried about him.”

“I’ve seen his kids, boy and girl. Nice kids.”

“She doesn’t want to call the police yet, but will be filing a missing persons report if I can’t track him down. Were you

working Thursday evening?”

“Yeah, until closing. He came in that night, or was it Friday?” she wondered out loud.

“Thursday,” Margo said. “Ordered a special combo.”

“I remember now, I was here both nights.”

“Was he alone?”

“Yeah...” Now the bartender sounded a bit skeptical about speaking to her. “Do you want to talk to my manager?”

“Who served him?”

“Me. He sat at the bar while he waited and had a beer, took the pizza with him.”

“Alone?”

The bartender glanced behind her, but Margo couldn’t see who she was looking at. “Yes,” she responded.

“Did he say anything about his plans?”

“I didn’t talk to him, other than hello. I really can’t tell you anything else. Charlie comes in once or twice a week, really

nice guy, brings his kids sometimes. That’s it.”

Margo’s order was called and the bartender went to the counter and retrieved it for her. “Here,” she said. “Look, if you need

more information you’ll have to talk to my manager, we’re not supposed to talk about customers.

“Thanks for your help.”

Margo left with her pizza and walked back to the condo complex. Before she let herself into the lobby, she noticed a late-model

black sedan with tinted windows. It stuck out to her because it was idling... and she was almost positive it had been there

earlier, when she first entered.

Idling likely because it was too hot to sit in a car without A/C.

She typed in the code, put the pizza down on one of the tables in the lobby. The windows were smoked glass, so she couldn’t

see out. Well, she’d just have to be bold.

Unfortunately, she’d left her camera in her Jeep, so she pulled out her phone and hit the camera app. In Arizona, only rear

license plates were required on vehicles. The car was facing her; she needed to get behind it for a picture.

If they weren’t up to anything, no harm. If they were... she’d like to know who was watching Charlie’s building.

She pretended she was walking the two blocks back to the pizza place, but then cut across the street directly behind the car

and quickly took pictures of the plate, mindful that whoever was inside could come out and confront her.

Instead, they sped out of the parking place, nearly sideswiping a Tesla.

They’d either been watching the condo or watching her. She’d put her money on the condo.

If she had to bet, they were waiting for Charlie.

She went back to the lobby and immediately ate a slice of pizza while she dialed Logan. He answered when her mouth was full.

“Hey,” she said, swallowed. “Sorry. So someone was watching the condo. Black sedan. I have the plates.”

“Who?”

“Tinted windows, I couldn’t see inside. I’m going to call someone to run the plates for me.”

“You think they were looking for Charlie?”

“Yep. Did you talk to the police about the break-in?”

“Scottsdale PD is sending an officer to take a report, but I don’t know what might be missing. Can you stay until they get

there? I told them you’d be there to let them in.”

“Sure, how long?”

“They said within an hour, that was twenty minutes ago.”

“Okay.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m waiting on a list of Charlie’s friends from Laura, then I’m going to head up to her

house and relieve Jack for a few hours. But I was thinking about Charlie’s past—you told Jack that he’s gotten involved with

a few get-rich-quick schemes that didn’t work out.”

“It’s been a while—”

“A leopard doesn’t change his spots.” Margo heard her abuela’s voice in her ear. How many times had she heard that cliche

growing up?

“Charlie’s closest friends are Bob and Beth O’Neill. The O’Neills have a daughter a year younger than Sydney. I’ll send you

their contact information. They’re the only people I can think of, I’m sure there are others. There was a guy he used to work

with out at the Wigwam.”

“Is this the same guy he lived with that Laura didn’t want around the kids?”

“It wasn’t so much that as Laura didn’t like the idea of the kids staying at a house with four single men she didn’t know

much about.”

“I need those names and addresses.” If Charlie was in trouble, or if he was trying to lie low, going back to his previous

residence would be an obvious option.

“Give me a couple minutes.”

“You have until the police come and leave,” she said.

“I’ll text you everything I find.” Logan hung up.

Margo had been starving; she finished the pizza in short order and tossed her trash in a receptacle in the lounge. She usually

had toast or fruit in the morning, but today she’d rushed out without anything because she hadn’t gone to the store in a week

and all she had in the house was stale bread, a black banana, a half-empty container of garlic dip from Trader Joe’s, and

bottle of hot sauce her Aunt Rita had made.

Yes, when desperate, she was known to spread pretty much anything on a piece of bread.

She called her ex-boyfriend, Phoenix PD Sergeant Rick Devlin.

“I’m working,” he answered.

“That’s why I called. I need you to run a plate.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Grumpy.”

“Margo—”

“I’m working a case for Logan Monroe. His sister was run off the road last night with her kids in the car, someone broke into

her house, her ex also had a break-in, and a black sedan has been watching his place but drove off before I could confront

them. I got their plates.”

He didn’t say anything.

“I’ll text you the photo.”

“No promises,” he said and hung up.

Margo texted him the photo with a kissing emoji.

No, they weren’t dating anymore and likely would never rekindle a relationship. But... it wasn’t as awkward as it used

to be. Margo was relieved, because Rick was Jack’s best friend and the tension wasn’t doing any of them any good. Jack would

love for them to get back together, but Margo didn’t think it would work... maybe. Damn, she was still confused about it

all.

She sat there and waited for the police... and for a text from Rick. If Rick didn’t help, she had others she could call...

but Josie didn’t work Mondays, and her MVD contact was prickly and slow. She was fairly confident that Rick would come through

for her.

An hour later, the police had come and gone. They took photos, prints, and would follow up with the homeowner. They were surprisingly

uninterested in Charlie’s whereabouts, and Margo didn’t volunteer any information. Neither Logan nor Laura had filed a missing

persons report, but if he didn’t turn up today, that should be the next step.

Margo texted Logan the police report number, then called her sister Tess, the guru of research.

“Hey Tess, did Jack fill you in on the new case?”

“Yes, I’ve been on the phone half the morning with Logan’s admin, Veronica, working through potential threats, disgruntled

vendors, and the like. Thing is, Logan doesn’t actually hire anyone. He only has two employees in his office, doesn’t supervise

anyone else. People like him. Jack said you talked to Brittney?”

“I don’t think she has anything to do with it, but she’s up to something—I’m going to ask Mom to follow up on her alibi for

the hit-and-run. Just to cross t ’s and all that. And get the tea on her new boyfriend.”

“She has a boyfriend,” Tess said bluntly. “The divorce isn’t even final.”

“Well, to be honest, she had a boyfriend her entire marriage, so I don’t think the divorce decree means anything to her,”

Margo said. “I’m heading out to Litchfield Park to talk to Charlie’s old roommate. I’m going to send you some names, can you

do basic backgrounds for me?”

“Sure.” Tess sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Margo asked.

“Everyone is divorced.”

“That’s factually inaccurate.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I really don’t.” Margo felt an insecurity rant coming on. She wasn’t wrong.

“We set the date and now... what if something happens? Logan loved Brittney and she cheated on him! And Laura and Charlie,

I mean I don’t know them, but they’re divorced and have kids . You know Gabriel and I have to start trying for kids right away because I’m going to be thirty-five this year. And Jack

and Whitney—I know Jack is still heartbroken about his divorce and—”

“Stop,” Margo said. “You’re working yourself up for nothing. You and Gabriel have been engaged for more than a year, you’ve

known each other even longer. You’re getting married in April, and it’s going to be great. You’re great together, don’t start

worrying about what-ifs and what happens to other couples. Mom and Dad have been married for thirty-nine years. Pops and Abuela

have been married for sixty years. You’ll fix any problems that come up, but if you start stressing out because other people have failed marriages, you’ll

give yourself a coronary. Got it?”

“Yeah,” she said, as if she knew she had to agree with Margo but didn’t really want to. She knew Tess was still going to worry.

Empathy was good, but too much empathy was depressing.

“So, I’m going to send you the names. Can you work your magic?”

“I’ll call when I have something.”

Tess hung up and Margo mentally swore. She loved her sister. They were eighteen months apart and had shared a room their entire

life, until Tess went to college the year before Margo enlisted in the Army. They were very different—Tess super feminine,

Margo more a tomboy. Tess tall and gorgeous, Margo not so tall and not so gorgeous. Tess was compassionate, smart and empathic.

Margo... yeah, she was smart, but not book smart, and her compassion had limits. But they complemented each other, and

Margo hadn’t realized how much she missed her sister during the three years she’d been estranged from the family until she

came back.

She’d missed her, but she hadn’t missed how Tess worried about everyone and everything and, as their mom said, “borrowed trouble.”

Margo headed out to Litchfield Park and hoped she didn’t get stuck in traffic.