Around 4 o'clock I decided it was time to take off for the night. We had things to do, like catch Armacost sneaking over to David Schmidt's house to do his wife. Carla turned on the answering machine and locked up the office as I pulled my truck up to the front of the building. We drove downtown and I pulled into the same spot I used Tuesday when I followed Armacost home. It worked once, it should work again.
On the way, we stopped by a hamburger joint to pick up dinner. We were tucked away in the shadows of the buildings just waiting for Armacost to leave. Sure enough, just about 5:30, the black Lincoln pulled out of the garage. I had finished eating the burger but was still sucking away on my chocolate shake when Carla noticed Armacost's car.
"Mick, there he is."
"Yup! I see him."
I dropped the truck into drive and pulled out into traffic just a few cars behind the Lincoln. It was déjà vu as we made our way to the freeway. This time, I wanted a jump on Armacost. As we got to the bottom of the on-ramp, I had the opening next to me. I took the first, then the second, then the third lane. Armacost tried to do the same but got stuffed by a larger truck. He ended up behind me.
"And who says you can't follow from the front?"
"Who's that in the car with him?"
I hadn't noticed it until Armacost pulled in behind me. Holly was on the passenger side. "It looks like Holly."
"It sure does," Carla replied.
I was hoping she wouldn't recognize my truck. After all, how many red sport utilities are there? Just playing it safe, I went into the center lane and let Armacost drive past me. Holly never even glanced over. It looked like it worked. Even if she had noticed, I didn't think she'd be stupid enough to let on to her father that she knew me.
"I don't think the little ditz even noticed," Carla said with a smirk.
"Either that or she was smart enough not to react."
"Ooo. Getting a little defensive, are we?"
"No, not at all. I'm just not jumping to a conclusion like that." I try to never "assume" anything, especially when there's a woman involved. I made sure I didn't act defensive.
Playing it safe, or stupid, I got off at the first exit to Armacost's house. Yeah, it was a little risky, but considering Holly was with him, I didn't think there was much chance that he'd stop off somewhere with her. As I drove past the house, Armacost was already inside. The black Lincoln was parked just outside the garage. The Schmidt house, not to be confused with an outhouse, looked secure. The garage door was down, so I couldn't see how many cars were in the garage. Frankly, I hadn't done all of my homework. I didn't know what type of cars David or Stacy drove. I didn't even ask if Stacy worked. It made it hard to tell if anybody was home.
I drove past Schmidt's house and found a spot where I could keep an eye on both houses, yet could be relatively inconspicuous. Parked cars on a street like this are not too common, so I had to be a little further away than I'd have liked. I also stayed facing away, letting the dark windows do their job. If I'd have turned the truck around, facing Schmidt's and Armacost's houses, it increased the chance that someone driving up the road would see us.
About 7:00 o'clock, a silver colored Mercedes convertible came up the street and turned into Armacost's driveway. "There's Mrs. Armacost."
"So the Armacost household is accounted for." Carla said as if making a mental note.
I could see Teresa pull up to the garage as the door opened automatically. Once open, she pulled her car inside. There are two, two car garage doors to the Armacost garage. Only the one side opened, indicating to me that there were "his and hers" doors. The Lincoln was pulled up in front of the one that didn't open. From our angle, I couldn't see any other vehicles inside. I was still curious as to why Holly came home with her father tonight. Maybe it was coincidence or convenience. But then again, maybe she was doing her own snooping.
I was just finishing the last of my cold fries at just before 7:45, when a silver Land Rover came cruising up the street. It pulled into Schmidt's driveway and up to the garage. I couldn't see the garage door but through the window I saw a light come on in the garage as the sport ute drove up the driveway, so I guess they have an automatic opener.
"Damn! I couldn't see who was driving, could you?", I asked Carla.
"No. I couldn't tell."
I quickly started the truck and made a U-turn hoping to see if there were any other cars in the garage and hopefully see if it was David driving the car. Carla slid around in the seat so she could help look. As I drove past, the garage door was already closing, but Carla got a look at a black convertible parked next to the Land Rover.
"It looked like a Cadillac, but I'm not totally sure. It was something like that."
"Good work schweetheart."
The good thing is that Schmidt's house only has a two car garage, and both slots were taken. Chances are, both of the Schmidts were home. On my previous cruises past the house I hadn't noticed any cars parked outside.
"He didn't waste any time closing the door did he?"
"Nope. I love a good safety conscious person... except when I'm trying to see what they're doing."
"Safety conscious or paranoid?"
I made another U-turn once I was out of sight of the two houses and went back to my spot. It was just getting dark and I didn't want to miss any action. And from the amount of action, I could have missed it if I'd blinked too slow.
At just about 9:15, the one garage door on Armacost's house opened. With the help of my trusty binoculars I watched Benjamin Armacost, a trash bag in hand, walk out and disappear around the back corner of the house. A few seconds later he reappeared and got in his Lincoln.
"Ah hah! Wonder where he's going," Carla said as I reached around and started the truck, never taking my eyes off Armoacost. I had no sooner started the truck when I turned it back off once again. Armacost had pulled his car into the garage.
"Damn!"
As I waited for the garage door to close, Benjamin shocked me once again by walking out of the garage. He seemed to look around, almost as if he thought he was being watched. I saw the glow of a small flame, "a match or a lighter", as he stared towards the Schmidt's house. After lighting what appeared to be a cigar, he began a slow walk down the driveway towards the street. When he got down to the sidewalk, he stopped and looked around some more, paying special attention to the Schmidt house. He stood at the end of the driveway smoking his cigar for what must have been about twenty minutes and then he began his slow trek back up the driveway to the house. He stood outside the garage and finished the cigar, before flipping the butt over towards the Schmidt's property.
It was around 9:45 when he went back inside and closed the garage door. Carla and I stuck around until 10:15, just to make sure nobody snuck out of either house to play the old Romeo and Juliet gig outside the other's bedroom window.
It was a little before 11 when we were in the vicinity of Murphy's, so we decided to drop in for a quick nightcap. For a Thursday night, Murph had a good crowd on hand. Must have been a good ball game or something on. I found a parking spot around back.
As we went in, I noticed the normal crowd was sitting at the bar. It seemed like all of those who stop in a night or two decided to make Thursday one of those nights this week. We worked our way through the crowd to the back of the bar, exchanging handshakes and hugs with some along the way. Of course, Carla received a significant number of hugs more than me, probably being that the male to female ratio was around 10 to 1.
As I got to the end, Murph whistled and handed a stool over the bar to me. My space was still open. Charlie, another of the regulars, moved his bar stool a little to the left so I could put mine against the wall at the very end of the bar.
"Thanks Charlie."
"Don't mention it, Mick."
I looked at Carla, "Ma'am, your seat awaits." I motioned for her to take the stool.
"That's okay, you can have it."
"No. Go ahead. I'll stand." I grabbed Carla by both arms and lifted her up onto the stool.
"Well, if you insist."
Mick brought over our usuals; my bourbon with a beer chaser and Carla's tequila, straight up.
"So, do you think he was trying to see if David was home, or what?", Carla inquired.
