Page 33 of Half Baked

I wanted to hear what they said, so I leaned over and pressed the button on the driver’s door to roll the window down.

The wooden front door opened, and a big, burly man with a bushy beard appeared behind the storm door glass. While the guy looked to be in his fifties or sixties, his broad chest, arms, and shoulders suggested he worked out regularly. “Whadaya want?” he barked through the door.

Noah held his gaze. “Mr. Pitcavage? I’m a friend of Howard Bergan’s—”

The man crossed his arms over his barrel chest. “Howie ain’t got no friends. Try again.”

“Okay, I’m not a friend,” Noah admitted amiably. “But Howard said he asked you to keep something for him, and he’d like for you to give it to me.”

The man burst out laughing, then turned serious. “That’s funny. Now get off my land.”

He started to shut the wooden door, but Noah called out, “He said to tell you to fuck a duck.”

The glass door burst open so quickly that I barely registered the movement before the man was down the steps, grabbing Noah’s shirt in a clenched fist. Noah wasn’t a small man at six foot two, but Stewie Pitcavage towered over him and outweighed him by at least fifty pounds of pure muscle. “Who the fuck are you?”

Crap. Not only were we not going to get the box, but Noah was about to get his face punched.

“Mr. Pitcavage, I’m Maddie Baker,” I shouted as I scrambled out of the SUV and hurried around the hood. “Andrea Baker’s daughter.”

“Get back in the car, Maddie,” Noah shouted, his eyes wide with panic.

I held my hands up as I moved closer. “I swear to you, Mr. Pitcavage, Noah’s telling the truth. I met Detective Bergan yesterday while I was touring St. Vincent’s for my aunt. He lives in the same hall as the available unit, and I helped him with his TV remote. He told me a few things that made me suspicious, so my boyfriend came with me today to talk to him again.” I stopped about six feet away from him, my hands still in the air. “Howard was more lucid this afternoon. He told me that he’d destroyed my mother’s file but gave you a few things related to her case. He said I could have them and told us to tell you to fuck a duck so you’d know he’d given us his blessing.”

“That don’t sound like Howie at all.”

I took a step closer. “That’s the code word he gave us, I swear.”

He snorted. “Not that part. Telling you about the box, period. Why would he do that?”

I shrugged, lowering my hands to my sides. “Maybe I made him feel guilty for not solving her murder.”

His eyes narrowed. “Not likely.”

I glanced at Noah, who looked like he was about to shove himself out of Pitcavage’s grip.

“Okay,” I said, purposely sounding defeated. “Noah threatened to beat the shit out of Howard if he didn’t tell us.”

“And Howie didn’t throw a punch?” Pitcavage asked with a short laugh.

“He’s an old man who looks like he’s skin and bones, not to mention he was sitting in a recliner. He looked like he couldn’t get out of his chair without help, let alone throw a punch,” I said. “But he told us that he gave some evidence to you, including a gold necklace with an eagle.”

The amused look on Stewie Pitcavage’s face disappeared. “Why would he give it up now?” he asked, his fist clenching tighter around Noah’s shirt. “He’s scared to death of the guy who threatened him.”

“I guess he was more scared of Noah,” I said.

Noah took a step back, jerking out of Pitcavage’s grasp. “I can be persuasive when need be.”

Pitcavage turned to face me. “I’m still not buying it.”

“When was the last time you saw him?” I asked. “He looks pretty old and frail. A hell of a lot older than the last time I saw him sixteen years ago.”

He’d been downright hateful the day I’d stopped by his office to request an update on the case. I was home for Christmas break my freshman year of college. He’d told me that he’d get in touch when he had something and not a moment before and to leave him alone. I never heard from him again.

“Aren’t we all?” Pitcavage scoffed.

“Look,” I said. “I don’t know how you and Howard know each other, and frankly I don’t give a shit. All I want is the box of evidence so I can find out who killed my mother.”

“You don’t want to be doin’ that, little girl,” he sneered. “The man who killed her is dangerous.”

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