Free Angels in Disguise by Betty Sullivan La Pierre Page B

and down the hall banging on doors."
    "Sure doesn't sound familiar,” she said, looking thoughtful. “But let me check.” She thumbed through a ledger on the desk. “No, we don't have anyone here by that name."
    "Do you by any chance have a record about a year ago. Maybe you could see if he left a forwarding address?"
    "Sure, hold on a minute.” She left the room and returned with another large black bound book and plopped it on the counter. Flipping through the pages, she ran her finger down a line of names. “Here he is. He moved out about eight months ago. The only forwarding address he left is a Post Office Box number. You want it?"
    "It might help. Maybe I can track him down."
    "One, five, four, six."
    He jotted the digits on a slip of paper and slipped it into his pocket. “Thanks, appreciate your help."
    Hawkman left the hotel and drove toward the other address, when he rounded the corner, he remembered Tulip Withers lived in this same complex.

CHAPTER TWELVE
    Hawkman had Alfonso's apartment number, but decided to stop and check with management to see if he still lived in the complex. He parked and a thought flashed through his mind. He quickly jotted on the note pad he kept in the vehicle; call Phillips and Cramer law specialist in Grants Pass and find out if they were back in their building this week.
    He left his vehicle and strolled into the small dingy room, but found no one manning the desk. A small bell sat on the top of a stack of papers, so he hit it a couple of times. Shortly, a man about five foot four, his shirt straining at the buttons over a fat beer belly, came slowly out of the back through a curtained doorway. A cheap cigar hung from his lips and the odor permeated the area.
    "Yeah, can I help ya?"
    Hawkman flashed his badge. “I'm looking for Alfonso Gomez, wanted to check and see if he still lives here."
    "Got his room number?"
    "Two forty-four."
    When the man opened a large black ledger, a big ash fell off his cigar onto the pages. He brushed it aside and adjusted his reading glasses. Running his finger down the margin, he glanced up. “Yep. He still lives in the same place."
    "Do you have his employment record?"
    The fellow let out a wheeze and rested the cigar in a filthy ashtray. “I'll have to check his folder. Is this guy in some kind of trouble?"
    "Not sure."
    "I'm usually not required to give out personal information. But I don't want no problems at my place. Hold on a second."
    He turned to a tall filing cabinet and pulled open a drawer. After a few moments, he took out a small folder and thumbed through the sheets. “The last employment I have listed is six months old."
    "Who's it with?"
    "Group called, ‘Handyman for Hire'."
    "Has he always paid his rent on time."
    "Yep, first of every month."
    "Ever had any issues with him?"
    He shook is head. “Nope."
    "Okay. You've answered my questions. Thanks for your help."
    Hawkman left the vile smelling room and climbed into his 4X4. He drove around building two and spotted the apartment on the lower floor. No working van was apparent in the parking area, but the company possibly supplied the vehicles which the employees weren't allowed to bring home. He pulled to a stop and went to the door. After knocking for several seconds with no answer, he turned to leave just as a man in the next unit stepped outside and glanced in his direction.
    "You looking for Alfonso?"
    "Yes."
    "He's gone most every day of the week doing odd jobs."
    "Does he still work for “Handyman for Hire"?
    "Yeah."
    "What time does he get home? I might have some work for him?"
    "All depends on what he's doing. But he's normally here around six o'clock or a little later."
    "Thanks, I'll check back this evening."
    Before pulling away from the apartment, Hawkman punched in the phone number of the law offices in Grants Pass. “This is Tom Casey, private investigator. I'd like to speak with the lawyer handling Carlotta Ryan's case."
    "Hold on a minute."
    "Jessica