The Bogey Man Read online

  Stanley and I glanced at each other, not sure whether to respond or not. Stanley decided not.

  “Pete, it isn’t my fault. I can’t help it if people want to dog my steps. I didn’t do anything to bring this on. I’ve never even seen this guy before, except in the movies.”

  “You know it’s not actually Bogart. Don’t you?” Pete asked hopefully.

  “Of course I know. I haven’t gone completely around the bend. But he seems so close to the real thing that I don’t know what else to call him.”

  “You’re right. You go ahead and call him Bogey. In the meantime, there has to be a logical explanation about why this guy is showing up. As investigators, it’s up to us to figure it out.” Pete sat down at his desk and picked up a folder.

  “Is he stalking you, Sandi?” Stanley appeared concerned.

  “I honestly don’t think so. He’s never been threatening, and it doesn’t go beyond watching me. And he never tries to hide from me. He’s just there. Other than watching my house the other night, I only see him when I’m on a case. Oh, and there was the time he saved my life.”

  Stanley’s mouth fell open, but before he could say anything the door opened and Felicity DuBois walked in, all five feet of her, if she’s even that tall. The only thing that gave her any height was the high heels she always wore. Her long, almost black hair, contrasted with her intensely blue eyes.

  Her gaze wandered from Stanley to me to Pete and back again. “You all look so serious. What’s going on? New case or something?”

  “Sandi saw Humphrey Bogart,” Stanley said, “and – ”

  “Oh, I just love him,” Felicity interrupted. “I saw him in Casablanca on TV last weekend. What a looker. That man has sooo much sex appeal.”

  “We’re not talking about a movie.” Pete tried to give Felicity a meaningful look, but she didn’t see it.

  “Then what do you mean?” she asked.

  “I saw Humphrey Bogart walk past the window. In the flesh. Fedora, trench coat and all.” If anyone might believe me, it would be Felicity DuBois. She’s Stanley’s girlfriend, and she had quickly become my close friend and confidant.

  “You saw who? You must be joking. I want to see him, too.”

  “Well, I know it’s not Bogey, but this guy is certainly his double. I mean, they say we all have one, and the Bogey Man is an exact duplicate.” There – I’d said it.

  “Boogey Man? Is he scary looking? I don’t recall Bogey as being scary looking. I think he’s hot.”

  “Not Boogey Man. Bogey Man. It’s a nickname until I can figure out who he is and what he wants. I have to agree with you though. Bogey was a hottie.”

  Pete and Stanley glanced at each other.

  “You think this man is hot? What does that make me?” Pete asked.

  Did I detect a note of jealousy? From Pete? This is a man whom women can’t resist. He doesn’t even have to flex a muscle and women flirt with him. Women practically fall at his feet. Hmm. The shoe seemed to be on the other foot, and it was my tootsie that the shoe dangled from. Not a bad feeling, but I wanted to keep peace.

  “You’re adorable, a real hunk,” I replied. “And that’s better than hot.”

  “Sorry I asked. I may gag.” No matter what he said, he was grinning.

  “So if this guy is a Bogey look-alike, then maybe he’s an actor. I’ll ask around.” Felicity is a hand model. She does ads for jewelry, hand lotion and anything else that involves beautiful hands, and occasionally she models things like make-up. She’s too short to do runway modeling. Anyway, she knows a lot of people in the movie industry and maybe she could find some information on the Bogey Man.

  “Thanks, Felicity. I’d appreciate that.” I turned to Pete and smiled sweetly. “At least someone believes me.”

  “I believe you, but I sure don’t get what this guy wants. At first I was worried you actually believed Humphrey Bogart had returned from, well, the dead.”

  Felicity walked over to Stanley and gave him a quick kiss. The whole concept of romance was new to Stanley and the grin that swept across his face made me realize how content he’d become. Felicity is a drop dead gorgeous woman and I’d half expected Stanley to have self-confidence problems, but I was wrong. She brought out the Stanley that had been hiding for some forty-odd years. He wasn’t just content, but confident as well.

  “The real reason I came by is to remind you about my upcoming costume party. It’s only a week away, you know. And, Sandi, don’t forget that you promised to help me set things up. This is going to be a Halloween party to remember, if I have my way about it.” Felicity was not a party person, but she’d told me that she wanted this to be a success. She’d invited several people from the modeling and acting industry and she felt she needed to impress them, which was out of character for this self-confident woman.

  “I know what costumes Stan and I are wearing, but what about you two?”

  I hadn’t given costumes any thought until that moment, but without hesitation I spoke up. “Pete and I are dressing as Bogart and Bacall.” I turned to Pete and grinned.

  “I hate costumes. I hate parties.” That was Pete, my little joiner.

  “You’ll have a good time, Pete. I promise you that this will be a party you’ll never forget.” Felicity grinned at him and he melted. She has that effect on men.

  “Okay, but I get to be Bogey.” He grinned, knowing he’d made a little joke.

  Speaking of melting, Pete warms my heart to gargantuan proportions. He tries to be a tough, hard guy, but I know what a softie he really is. He tries to dominate me, and when that doesn’t work, he tries even harder. When it still doesn’t work, he throws up his hands and lets me have my way. He feels he has to protect me, too, but I’ve almost broken him of that. It’s taken a long time for him to realize I can take care of myself.

  I look forward to a good, long life with Pete. Uh, after a long engagement. I want to marry Pete, but not tomorrow, or the next day. I don’t want to try to change Pete, but he has a bit of changing to do on his own. We need to be able to accept each other as is. We haven’t quite reached that point yet.

  “So,” Felicity asked, “do you have your costumes yet?”

  “No, but it won’t take a lot of work. The only things we have to buy are a Fedora and a trench coat, and we can probably get those at the thrift store. After all, we don’t want them to look brand new. Right Pete?”

  “Uh huh. Right.” He didn’t sound enthused.

  “Remember, Felicity promised you this is going to be the party to beat all parties.”

  “Uh huh.” Pete began plucking pages out of the folder he’d picked up, but he wasn’t doing anything with them.

  Chapter Three

  I only had one sighting of the old green Chevy over the next week and the Bogey Man took a backseat to Felicity’s costume party.

  Pete and Stanley said they’d cover the office so that Felicity and I could prepare for the party. It offered me an unexpected little vacation.

  I talked Pete into a visit to the thrift store where we found a fedora and an old tan trench coat. Although in good condition, the coat was dirty and had a special odor, unique to old clothing and an unkempt man. I dropped it off at the dry cleaners with instructions to clean it and then clean it again. When the owner of the store picked up the coat using his thumb and index finger, I thought he was going to hand it back to me, but thankfully he didn’t.

  Pete’s parting words before returning to the office weren’t reassuring. “I’ll wear that coat when hell freezes over.”

  I made a trip to my attic at home because there were several boxes of old clothing stored there. I live in an old house that once belonged to my great-great-great-grandmother, Merced. For some unknown reason, several owners had stored things in the attic over the years and left them when they moved. I’d never gone through all the boxes, but I figured it was worth a shot, that maybe there’d be some 1940’s vintage clothing. I did find a box with the sought after clothing, but eve
rything was the wrong size.

  Scooping up three dresses, two skirts and a couple of blouses, I made a beeline for a shop in town that restores and sells vintage clothing. Mrs. Schemerheim, the owner, agreed to trade one outfit for the seven items I’d brought in. She got the better end of the deal, but I didn’t mind. I love the old barter system. She included a full off-white skirt with a black zig zag design print that hit below the knee, a black, silky long-sleeved blouse with shoulder pads, a black belt and a little felt hat that reminded me of a French beret.

  “In this outfit, you’ll be the spitting image of Ms. Bacall.” Mrs. Schemerheim folded her arms and looked pleased with herself. Her eyes narrowed and her expression changed. “No, wait. One change.” She took back the blouse and handed me a black pullover sweater, also with shoulder pads. “You tuck that in, cinch your waist with the belt and now you are Lauren Bacall.”

  I added what I thought were clunky-looking, yet feminine, black high heels and I was set for the party. All I had to do was brush my hair in the signature Lauren Bacall style and go.

  While Pete and Stanley continued to cover the office, Felicity and I spent our time looking for Halloween decorations. Felicity lives in an old house, too. She’d brightened it up after moving in, and we were about to darken it for the spooky party.

  Spooky. That word reminded me of the Bogey Man. Cute or not, he was kind of spooky.

  Felicity and I stopped at several stores looking for the right decorations to spook up the house. We found plenty, including spiders and bats and a skull. My friend said she had two more stops to make on our way home and we’d be done. Our first stop was to see a friend who worked at one of the movie studios. He loaned her a skeleton, which looked a little too real for my taste.

  Our second stop was at a store where we bought some straw and a bale of hay. “We’re going to make a scarecrow for the front yard.” Felicity grinned. “To welcome the guests.”

  “We? I don’t know anything about making a scarecrow.”

  “We’ll do it. I know you’ve seen one, at least in pictures. We can figure it out.” Felicity had great faith in me.

  Upon reaching her house, we left most of our packages on the couch and headed to the front yard to create our scarecrow.

  “Okay, here we go.” She pulled on a pair of gloves, needing to protect the hands that were her livelihood, picked up an old ragged red and black plaid shirt and buttoned it around a large ball of wadded newspapers. After padding other pieces of clothing and building a straw head, we rested.

  “Help me pull over that bale of hay,” Felicity said, standing up. We placed the scarecrow on it in a sitting position. She lifted one leg and crossed it over the other.

  “One more thing.” I folded his arm up, put his elbow on his leg and rested his head on his hand, in a thinking position.”

  “Perfect.” Felicity looked pleased.

  “Sorry, but that’s about the sorriest scarecrow I’ve ever seen. I know we worked hard on this, Felicity, but – ”

  “Don’t worry. Just wait ‘til you see it after dark with a light shining up on his face. And an ax in his hand.”

  “That’ll work. Sorriest could turn into scariest.”

  I stepped back to take another look at the scarecrow, shaking my head. That’s when I heard the chuckle. Just a little one, and not too close, but I glanced up and saw the Bogey Man aiming a crooked smile my way. I quickly glanced away, trying to act like the sun was in my eyes and I hadn’t seen him.

  “There he is. Felicity, look. No, don’t look,” I whispered.

  Felicity turned and stared directly into his face, with no pretense of nonchalance. “You’re right. It’s him! Let’s get him.”

  He saw our faces and apparently decided he’d better scram. His green Chevy was parked a couple of houses down and on the opposite side of the street from Felicity’s house. He ran for it, trench coat swinging.

  “Hurry!” I started to run with Felicity and her short legs trailing behind me.

  The engine turned over and Bogey pulled away from the curb. Passing me in a hurry but with style, he threw me a casual salute accompanied by a wide grin.

  I turned to watch as he passed Felicity. An odd expression swept across her face, her eyes widening in surprise, and her expression quickly turned into a smile.

  “Wait!” I yelled. He kept going, turning at the corner. We’d missed him. Again.

  Felicity still held her smile in place.

  “What?” I walked to meet her.

  “He got the line wrong.”

  “Huh?”

  “He said something to me, but he got the line wrong.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He said, ‘Here’s looking at you, Babe.’”

  “Babe? Not Kid?”

  Felicity looked me in the eyes. “Nope. Not Kid. And Sandi, you’re right. That man could be Humphrey Bogart. I mean, he’s close to an exact duplicate.”

  “Can you believe it? He doesn’t scare me. In fact, I don’t think he’s really trying to, but I sure would like to know what’s going on. I wish I could have a face to face chat with that guy.”

  “I called some people I know in the industry last night, but no one knew a thing about anyone who looks that much like Bogey. I’m still waiting for a few return calls, so maybe someone will have an answer.”

  “I hope so. Well, he’s gone again and there’s nothing we can do about it. Shall we start decorating the house?”

  Felicity headed inside with me following her.

  “Who’s on the guest list?” I asked.

  “Oh, you’re going to love this group. In fact, you might have some new clients after meeting them.”

  “I’ve got all I can handle right now, Felicity. Those insurance companies keep us busy.”

  She chuckled. “Yeah, but with these people you might wind up with some pretty interesting cases. Well, you’ll just have to meet them.”

  “Okay, so again, who’s coming?”

  “Well, for starters Traci Marks is coming. You remember her. Dolly and Prudy met her a while back. She’s the woman who holds up cards on that television game show, What’s In a Name?”

  “That reminds me, Dolly asked me to tell you she’ll be at the party. Pete and I will bring her with us. She said she’s going to surprise us with her costume.”

  Dolly Temple is my elderly friend and neighbor. I’ve never quite worked up the courage to ask about her age, but I know she’s somewhere in her eighties. She seems to insinuate herself into my life and cases with regularity, and Felicity has taken a liking to her and invited her to the party.

  Prudy Lewis is another senior friend. She’d been a private eye in the 1940’s. Together we’d solved an old case. She lives in Bullhead City, Arizona, next door to my mother. She and Dolly became good friends when Prudy visited California.

  As I draped cobwebs over lamps and tables, Felicity ran through her guest list which included agents, models, a couple of photographers and actors and actresses.

  “The total guest list is about sixty people, but I expect about thirty-five or forty to show up. You know, there are those who don’t speak to each other and won’t be seen in the same place. I had to invite everyone or someone would end up feeling slighted.”

  “Understandable.”

  I draped another cobweb over the edge of a painting. “Every time I look at this portrait of you it takes my breath away.” I moved back and studied it. “Who painted this? It’s so, well, good, but I can’t read the signature.”

  “I wouldn’t let him hear you say it’s only good. Jason Redman believes he’s the best. No one can equal him. That is, according to him. And he’ll be at the party, along with a few others who believe they’re the best in their respective fields.”

  “Anyone else I should be warned about?”

  “Hmmm. Watch out for Mavis Brewer. We like to call her the Lawsuit Queen. No matter what anyone says to her, she manages to find fault with it and threatens to
sue. I honestly didn’t want her on the guest list, but she’s Hamilton Stewart’s significant other.”

  “Hamilton Stewart?” I hadn’t heard that name.

  “Hamilton is a major talent in the agenting business. He’s second to none at finding new talent. He discovered Joshua King.”

  Now that was a name I knew. Joshua King made a real splash beginning with his first movie, and his splash had turned into a tsunami wave. Everyone from preteens to old women drooled over this man. The tabloids called him the modern day… Uh oh. The modern day Bogey. He didn’t look anything like Bogey, but he had that same bad boy appeal.

  “Is Joshua King coming to the party?” I asked.

  “If he can. He’s in the midst of a nasty break-up with Purity Patton. She’s not going to let go easily because being seen with him has helped her modeling career. So it depends pretty much on which way the wind is blowing.”

  “Huh. You’re a real fountain of information on Hollywood. Any other juicy stories?”

  Felicity smiled. “I don’t normally gossip about these people, but I know you won’t repeat anything.” She filled me in on a few other torrid situations before saying she was tired of the whole group.

  “So why did you invite these people? Why even throw the party if they’re that bad?”

  “Oh, they’re certainly not all that bad. Actually, there are a few people coming whom I’m sure you’ll like. For instance, Jolly Wade. He’s a photographer. He’s about as nice as they come and he doesn’t do the paparazzi thing, at least not to any great extent.”

  “Jolly? Is he a happy guy?”

  This time Felicity chuckled. “Believe it or not, that’s not a nickname. He once told me that his mother named all of her kids with the traits she hoped they’d develop in life. He has a brother named Artis; his mother hoped he’d be artistic. And he has a sister named Honor and, well, you can figure that one out for yourself. He also has a sister named Dimples. I guess his mother decided to go with the baby’s appearance on that one.”

  “With this story in mind, is he any relation to Purity Patton?”

  Felicity chuckled. “Hardly. They detest each other, and Purity’s name is a joke.”