Friday, April 19, 2019
Daring Destiny ~ Part 41
“We were hoping you could give us the apartment number,” said Hoyte. “Or at the very least the name of the resident.”
“Sorry, can’t do that,” said Mrs. Chenney, “not unless you have a warrant and you’ve already told me you’re not police officers.”
“Mrs. Chenney.” Hoyte gave her a sexy smile as he tussled his wet hair. Rainy had to fight the urge to groan at his obviousness. “I’m Hoyte Morgan.”
“Yes, you told me your name earlier,” said Mrs. Chenney raising her eyebrows at Rainy.
“Have you heard my name before?” asked Hoyte, “I am somewhat famous.”
Mrs. Chenney gave a little laugh. “I mostly read, so unless you’re my favorite author, and you don’t look like Nora Roberts to me, then I wouldn’t have heard of you.”
“I’m a psychic and if you give us the name and apartment number, then I will give you a world class reading.”
“Well, if you’re a psychic shouldn’t you already know the apartment number?” Mrs. Chenney frowned at him. “Even so, I don’t believe in that hocus pocus. No warrant, no information. Again, I’d be happy to call the number for you and make sure everything is hunky dory.”
Rainy bit back a laugh as Hoyte’s face displayed a cross between being shocked and slightly irritated. She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you go wait in the car?”
He started to shake his head no, but with a small nod from Rainy, he didn’t argue, but handed her his towel and walked outside without another word.
“Your friend could use a small dose of humility,” said Mrs. Chenney as she walked to her desk. “Like I would believe in that baloney.”
“Yes, it’s pretty crazy anyone would,” said Rainy. “Listen, you seem like a really caring woman. I mean, who has towels just in case some wayward travelers come in your apartment office during a rainstorm?”
“Well, I’d like to think I am,” said Mrs. Chenney, raising her chin just a little, “but that’s not going to stop me from protecting my tenants.”
Rainy sat across from her in one of the chairs on the opposite side of the desk. “I understand completely, and I hope that you understand that while you’re trying to protect the people who live here, I’m trying to protect my friend. Her name is Lindie Richards and she’s called me twice this week scared. I just want to make sure she’s okay. I’m afraid she’s gotten mixed up with the wrong man and that he may live in this apartment complex.” She rattled off the phone number Ned had found. “Does that sound familiar?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Chenney said softly, “I know who that number belongs to.”
“You offered to call the number and make sure my friend is okay, will you still do that?” asked Rainy.
“I don’t think that will do you friend any good,” said Mrs. Chenney, as she fidgeted with a pen on her desk.
“What do you mean?” asked Rainy.
“That number belongs to my meanest tenant, Fabian Cortez,” said Mrs. Chenney. “I asked him to move his car one day, it was blocking another tenant’s parking spot, and he pulled a knife on me.”
“Oh my,” said Rainy.
“I’m afraid if I call he’ll get angry with your friend,” Mrs. Chenney’s voice grew weak, “or me.”