CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
“What now?” asked Jock. We were in the rental car, pointed toward the airport and home.
“I guess we’d better see what we can find on Doremus.”
“I guess. But that sounds like a fake name.”
“Could be. Can your guys check him out?”
Jock looked at his watch. “A bit late today, but I’ll call in the morning.
I wonder why he wanted Katherine on Anna Maria?”
“I don’t follow you.”
“He went to a lot of trouble to get that gift certificate for the Anna Maria Inn. He obviously wanted Katherine to go there. Why?”
“So he could get her alone?” I asked.
“Sure. But why Anna Maria specifically?”
“Good question. Got any ideas?”
“He might have wanted to be somewhere that he was comfortable.
Knowledgeable about the area. Wanted to impress the girl. Maybe he has a home in the area.”
“That is worth checking out,” I said. “Doremus can’t be a common name. If we can find that same name on properties in Charlotte and in our area, we’ll be able to find him.”
“Deb can probably do that as quickly as the agency,” said Jock. “We won’t get much priority.”
I looked at my watch. It was a little after nine. I pulled my phone out and called Deb.
“Where are you?” I asked. “Working?”
“I’m in bed. It’s my day off.”
“Little early for sleeping isn’t it?”
“What makes you think I’m sleeping?”
“What’re you doing, then?”
“Duh.”
“Oops. Whose bed are you in?”
“My own.”
“Who’s there with you? “None of your business.”
“Deb, I worry about you.”
“Forget it, numbnuts. I’m all alone watching an HBO movie.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure. What do you want?”
“A little favor.”
“I’ve heard that one before.”
I told her what I needed. “If you can’t reach me on my cell, it’ll be because we’re in the air. Leave a message and I’ll call you when we land.”
We landed at Tampa a little after midnight. We were the last flight in and there were only a few passengers on our plane. The airport was quiet, the little kiosks and restaurants that lined the concourse closed and dark. I turned my cell phone on and checked for messages. One from Deb. I called voice mail, listened, and hung up.
“She found somebody,” I said to Jock. “There’s a John Doremus who owns a home in Charlotte and a condo on Seventh-Fifth Street West in Bradenton.”
“That’s got to be him.”
“Maybe we should have stayed overnight in Charlotte,” I said. “He’s not likely to be here this time of the year.”
“We’ve got to check it out.”
“Yes. We do. Tomorrow.”
An hour later we were home on Longboat Key. I typed up notes on our activities the past two days and e-mailed them to J. D. and Chaz Desmond. Then I went to bed.
J.D. called early the next morning, waking me from a dream that had something to do with beautiful women. “What’re you doing?” she asked.
“Dreaming.”
“Did I wake you up?”
“Yes. It’s okay.”
“It’s also after nine. You never sleep this late.”
“Yesterday was a long day. We got in late.”
“I got your memo. Do you think this is the same Doremus who was stalking Katherine Brewster?”
“It’s got to be,” I said. “That’s not a common name.”
“Do you want me to go see him?”
“He may be in Charlotte. Why don’t Jock and I stop by his condo? If he’s here, he might get spooked by a cop.”
“Yeah, like he wouldn’t get spooked looking at Jock.”
“You’ve got a point.”
“Go see him. Let me know what you find out.”