Page 22 of Out of the Shadows
“Agreed,” Jack said. “I’ll ask Laura if she can access his phone records.”
“Do you really think her ex-husband has something to do with the hit-and-run?”
“Logan and Laura don’t think so. But they may not be objective.”
“I’ll call when I learn more,” Margo said and ended the call.
Logan’s Scottsdale condo was in a prime location walking distance to dozens of restaurants and shops. He’d bought it more than ten years ago when he first moved to Arizona and, like Logan himself, the condo wasn’t flashy. A discreet two-story structure with eight units and a classy, understated exterior.
Margo parked on the street and fed the meter. She had permission from the owner—Logan—to use the codes Veronica gave her to get into the building and apartment, but it was still a gray area.
However, considering his ex-wife and kids hadn’t spoken to him in a few days, a welfare check might be in order.
First, she checked the garage. It was under the building, accessible via a gate if you had a key card or code. She had the code, but didn’t need it because she could see that Charlie Barrett’s green Ford Ranger wasn’t there.
She walked to the entrance and let herself into the building. Three units on the ground floor along with a community room, a gym and an indoor-outdoor lounge. An elevator went to the roof... which had a pool, hot tub and another indoor-outdoor room. A separate elevator went to the second floor, but she opted for the stairs.
There was no on-site staff or maintenance, but the space was well-maintained and the HOAs had to be through the roof.
Charlie’s condo was on the second floor, a sixteen-hundred-square-foot space that, from the old real estate photos Margo had glanced at, had an open layout and modern kitchen. A balcony on the backside boasted a view of the Camelback Mountains.
Yep, definitely a nice bachelor pad, Margo thought. Well out of her price range, but she wasn’t a condo person. She needed her own space, and while her little house was old and she’d done much of the remodeling herself—with a lot of help from Jack—she would take her house over this condo any day.
Though she wouldn’t mind being walking distance from all the great restaurants in Old Town.
Margo knocked on Charlie’s door. No answer. No sound of anyone moving inside.
She knocked on the door of the closest neighbor. Since it was Monday morning, she didn’t expect an answer; there wasn’t one.
Margo texted Jack:No answer. I’m letting myself in.
Margo used Logan’s code to unlock Charlie’s door, then opened it just a couple inches. “Charlie? I’m Margo Angelhart. Logan asked me to do a welfare check. Hello? Anyone here?”
She heard nothing, so she entered.
The place had been tossed: uneven couch cushions; entertainment center disorganized, as if someone had rifled through all the DVDs; papers scattered in the office; and nearly every book was askew in the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Though there were cords for a computer, it was missing.
In the walk-in closet in the main bedroom, all the clothes had been pushed to one side, revealing a safe—which had been drilled through. Whatever was inside was gone.
But no Charlie, and no sign that he had been injured.
Also no sign that he’d gone on a trip. Two suitcases and an overnight bag were on the top shelf of the closet, and toiletries were spread across the bathroom counter, including a razor resting in a charger.
She called Jack and told him what she’d found.
“I’ll have Logan call the police,” Jack said. “No sign of Charlie?”
“Nope,” Margo said. She’d already put on gloves before she touched anything and now opened the cabinet under the sink. No garbage. She searched and found there was a dedicated slide-out drawer with two garbage cans, each lined with bags. One was empty, one had some empty containers. She carefully moved the containers aside, found a receipt for takeout from a nearby restaurant, dated Thursday at 6:15 p.m. She told Jack. “Doesn’t mean anything, but he hasn’t used the trash since Thursday night or maybe Friday morning. I don’t think he returned home after he left work on Friday. I’m going to check a few things then call you back.”
Chapter Eight
Jack told Laura what Margo had learned. She grew increasingly worried.
“What could have happened to him? Was he in an accident? Why wouldn’t someone have called me? Where is he?”
“Do you have access to his phone records? Or GPS tracking on his phone?”
She shook her head no.
