Page 25 of Ground Truth

Gaspar slid out of the SUV and waited for Drake to overtake the jerk.

The car’s driver had reached the pickleball courts when Drake caught up to him. He’d been a football player in high school, and he remembered how to tackle. He jumped forward and landed on the driver, taking him down, while the guy kicked and yelled and tried to bite his way out.

Drake put a big palm on the side of the guy’s head and mashed him to the grass, pinning his arms to the ground. The guy’s legs were kicking at Drake’s knees, but he couldn’t reach them or do any real damage.

Gaspar walked up behind them, pulled his weapon, and showed it to the wiry dude on the ground. “Keep it up and I’ll be justified,” he growled.

“Get off me! Let me up!” the guy yelled between Drake’s splayed fingers, still trying to get away.

“Just calm down. Cops are coming. Nobody needs to get hurt here,” Drake said forcefully. “What’s your problem?”

“What the hell do you care? Get off me!”

Gaspar replied lazily, “Let him up. Maybe he’ll run again. I can hit a moving target nine times out of ten.”

“I’ve seen you shoot. You’re more like ten out of ten.” Drake grunted and shoved the guy’s head farther into the sod. “That what you want, buddy? To test my friend’s aim?”

The front gate guard, Harris, pulled up in a golf cart and stomped over. He set his feet apart and rested his hands on his utility belt.

“Police will be here any minute, Jeffers. Stay put,” he growled toward the guy on the ground. He turned to Drake and Gaspar. “Thanks for the assist with this little twerp.”

Drake released his hold on Jeffers’s head. He had Jeffers pinned to the ground with his knee. “Should I let him get up?”

Harris shook his head. “Not yet. No point in chasing him again. This is the third time this week he’s busted in here looking for his girlfriend. She’s got a restraining order against him, but he don’t care.”

Harris tapped Jeffers lightly with the side of his boot. “Ain’t that right, Jeffers?”

“Let me up, Harris. This is none of your business,” Jeffers growled.

“Stalking’s a crime, Jeffers. As you well know,” Harris replied.

Drake kept his knee on Jeffers’s back with just enough pressure to hold him.

The police arrived. Two officers joined the tableau in full view of the pickleball players and other local residents.

Harris gave one officer the details while Drake moved aside and the second officer escorted Jeffers to the squad and put him in the backseat.

The second officer came back. He asked Drake and Gaspar for brief statements and contact information. Gaspar handed over his business card. Drake supplied his full name and phone number.

About twenty minutes later, the police car left, the pickleball players went back to their game, and the gawkers returned to whatever they’d been doing before.

Harris came over to thank them again and asked, “What were you guys coming into the community for, anyway?”

Gaspar gave Harris their names, handed him a card and replied, “We’re private investigators working for the sister of a woman who lived here a few years ago. Thought maybe we could talk to the neighbors. Try to figure out where the sister and her husband moved to.”

“We have a stable community here, on the whole. Not many transients. I’ve been working security at the front gate for about ten years. Who are you looking for? I probably knew them,” Harris volunteered.

“Greta Campbell Reed is the woman we’re trying to find. We’re working for her sister, Hanna,” Drake replied.

Harris nodded solemnly. “I knew Greta. Her husband, too. Phillip Reed. He was a doctor. Good people. The whole community was upset when they died in that boating accident. Couldn’t believe it, really.”

Drake and Gaspar said nothing.

“I didn’t know Greta had a sister, though. The house was sold. New couple lives there now. But they’re on vacation,” Harris said thoughtfully, as if he were dredging it up from memory. “I don’t think they’d be much help to you. They moved here from California. Couple of lawyers, I think. Greta probably never met the Kings.”

“What about the other neighbors?” Gaspar asked. “Any of them particularly close to Greta or Phillip?”

Harris cocked his head as if he were thinking deeply about the question. “Maybe. Phillip traveled a lot. But Greta was pretty active here. Maybe check with the president of the HOA. Let me give you her contact information.”

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