Ch 1-10

Summary

Texas born and bred, Savannah Hartman is a tough private detective and a lucky one at that. In the past few weeks she’s dealt with cheating spouses, thieves, gold diggers, surly employees, and psycho

1 – Introductions, Anyone?

I didn’t want to believe that Shawn Greenley was a murderer. The fact was that anyone could have done it. Anyone could have killed her. Anyone could have killed Alena Johnson.

The sheriff’s department has arrested Shawn for her murder, but if they knew about her estranged husband, Gabriel, they’d probably change their minds. Don’t get me wrong. They will find out about him. I mean, after all, I did. I just hope I can find him before they do. Shawn’s sister, Jessica (one of my best friends) is desperate to clear her brother.

This is where I come in. My name is Savannah Hartman. I’m not a police officer. I’m not a bounty hunter. I’m a private detective, although I’m not really a very good one. I think the terminology nowadays is private investigator? Hell, I don’t know.

Personally I think private detective just sounds better. It has a certain ring to it. It has a certain je ne sais quoi, if you will. The term detective kind of reminds me of those old cheesy movies where you would expect lame lines from all the characters. There’s always some sex starved man trying to do the investigating, making you wonder if he’s really working the case or just working on the damsel in distress.

I’d like to say I’m good at my job, but if I did, that would prove just how full of shit I really am. The term “detective” makes me sound so much more professional than the real story. The truth is that I’m just really lucky. Right place/right time kind of moments are the story of my life.

One of my employees is a man named Keith Whitman, even though I prefer to call him “Jackass” most of the time. Don’t get me wrong, he’s not really a complete asshole. He just likes to play one on the TV in his head. In the real world, he’s a pretty nice guy, for a jackass.

Keith is a computer guru. He can hack into anything, anytime, anywhere. He writes software programs, designs websites, and even changes the light bulbs when needed. I swear that man could program a dishwasher to walk a dog if he put his mind to it. Keith’s girlfriend, Claudia Holbrook, is my office manager.

When I got to the office on that fateful Tuesday morning, Keith was sitting at the computer, typing away as usual. His fingers hit the keys so fast and rough that for a moment I thought they would break free from the keyboard and fly across the room, lodging into the wall or with my luck, my forehead.

“You’re early”, said Keith, “Coffee’s ready”. I nodded and headed for the coffee pot on the other side of the room. Keith always made coffee that would knock off the testicles of any bull in any china shop. Most of the time I’d go down the street to Babe’s Coffee Shop, but today, Keith’s coffee would suffice.

“Coffee’s just the way I like it: strong, but with a little cream and sugar”, I said.

“Donut?” asked Keith. His arm was lightly outstretched with the donut box in his hand.

“Don’t mind if I do”, I said, reaching for a bear claw. That was the last pleasant moment of the day, at least, that I can remember. The rest of the day pretty much just went to hell from there.

2 – Alena’s Last Day

Alena Johnson didn’t deserve to die. She was a hard working woman who worked six nights a week at Ryer’s Pub as a waitress. There are a few on the outskirts of town, but Ryer’s Pub is the only bar within the city limits of Hopeville, Texas.

That evening, she had the early shift (four to twelve), so she made dinner, ate, took a shower, and then got ready for work. That evening was the last time anyone saw her alive.

Parts of her body were found in her own backyard, buried in a shallow grave in her tulip garden. I say parts because she had been crudely dismembered. Not all of the pieces were there: part of her torso, her right hand, and both feet were found buried in her garden. Her fingertips had been burned off, so DNA testing was required for proper identification.

The sheriff believed that either an animal had run off with the remaining body parts or that the rest of her was buried elsewhere.

Alena was not known for being late to anything, ever, so when she didn’t show up for work on time, it made the pub’s manager, Mitch Redman, a bit uneasy.

“Has anyone heard from Alena?” asked Mitch. “I haven’t been able to reach her. She was supposed to be here over an hour ago”.

Lanie Phillips was the first to speak up. “Nope and that bitch better not call in sick and leave me here to deal with these two losers on my own”, said Lanie, pointing at the two bartenders, Tim Carlson (the local conspiracy theorist) and Dallas Andrews (aka Cowboy).

Lanie was a whopping 5’2”, blond, skinny woman who thought the world revolved around her. During the busy times, it did, well at least in her mind. In reality, Mitch was just waiting for a reason to fire her lazy, stuck up, good-for-nothing ass.

“It’s really not like her to be late”, said Mitch.

“Maybe she discovered a secret government cover-up about the aliens that landed in Arizona and they put her in a far off remote location just to keep her quiet”, said Tim.

Dallas rolled his eyes and said, “Of course it would be secret if it was a government cover-up, ya idiot”.

Mitch just shook his head and walked away. He went into his office and dialed Alena’s number.

The recorded voice on the other end of the line said, “The number you have dialed is no longer in service. Please check the number and try again”.

Mitch hung up the phone and said quietly, “Something’s not right”. He paused for a moment, tapped his fingers on the desk, picked up the phone again, and dialed.

“Hope County Sheriff’s Office”, said Jolynn.

“Hey, Jolynn, it’s Mitch Redman. Can I talk to Sheriff Russell, please?”

“Sure thing, Mitch. Hang on. He’s right here”, said Jolynn as she passed the telephone to the sheriff.

“Sheriff Russell. What can I do for ya?”

“Nate, it’s Mitch Redman. Listen, Alena didn’t show up for work today and I was wond-”

“Well that ain’t like her at all. I tell you what: I’ll take a ride out to her place and take a look around, make sure everything’s okay”, said Nate.

“Thanks, Nate. I appreciate it”, said Mitch. He hung up the phone and said to himself, “I sure hope everything’s okay”.

3 – Caught Red Handed

A half an hour later, Sheriff Russell was pulling into Alena’s driveway. “Jolynn, I’m here”, he said into his walkie-talkie.

Alena’s car was in the driveway, but it didn’t look like anyone was home. A white pick-up truck was parked at the street with ‘Greenley’s Pool Service’ painted on the passenger side door.

Nate got out of his car and walked to her door. When no one answered after ringing the doorbell several times (and calling out her name), he decided to take a look around back.

From a few houses down the road, he could hear Marty and Edna Havershaft yelling for their little white poodle, Stella. Other than that, Decklin Street off of County Road 1360 was pretty quiet that evening.

As he rounded the corner, he saw that the gate into Alena’s backyard was partially open.

“Let go, you little bitch!” yelled Shawn.

Nate drew his gun and quietly entered the backyard. He walked slowly and cautiously until he was around the backside corner of the house.

He could see Shawn kneeling near the flower bed, fighting with Stella over – something? What the hell IS that?? Stella was growling at Shawn.

“Damn dog! Let …. go!!”

Stella let go and Shawn stumbled backwards with what looked like a bloody foot in his grasp. The blood was dry, but there was no doubt that it was a foot…a woman’s foot.

Nate cocked his gun and Shawn looked up. He immediately let go of the bloody foot and slowly stood up, hands in the air. Miscellaneous body parts were protruding from the tulip garden. It looked as if the garden had been recently dug up.

“Sheriff, I didn’t do anything. I just came back here to tend to the pool and I found that poodle digging in the flower bed. She had that foot in her mouth and I was trying to get it away from her. That’s all. I swear!”

“Stop right there, son. Don’t you take another step”, said Nate, pointing his gun at Shawn.

“Sheriff, I didn’t do anything!” yelled Shawn

“Son, get face down on the ground and put your hands behind your head”, said Nate.

“But Sheriff, I-“, pleaded Shawn.

“Boy, this is the last time I’m gonna tell you. GET DOWN ON THE GROUND, FACE DOWN, HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD. DO IT NOW AND DON’T MAKE ME SAY IT AGAIN!!” yelled Nate. His voice was a little bit shaky, but his grip on the gun was firm.

Shawn put his hands on his head and got down on his knees.

“All the way down”, said Nate.

Nate holstered his gun and cuffed Shawn’s hands behind his back as he read him his rights. He took him out to his squad car and locked him, handcuffed, in the backseat.

“Don’t you go anywhere”, said Nate with a slight smile. “I don’t really need a legitimate reason to shoot your ass after what I just saw, so sit tight”.

Nate picked up his walkie-talkie and said, “Jolynn, I need you to send Tucker out here as soon as possible. Tell him to bring the camera and the crime scene kit”.

“Will do, Sheriff. Wait- when did we get a crime scene kit?” asked Jolynn.

Nate sighed heavily and said, “It’s the tackle box on my desk. Tell him not to forget the camera. Thank, you, Dear”.

“You got it, Nate”, said Jolynn.

Twenty minutes later, Deputy Tucker Bradley arrived on the scene. Edna and Marty Havershaft were standing at the curb talking to the sheriff. Edna was holding their poodle, Stella, who kept barking at Shawn.

He was still handcuffed sitting in the backseat of the Sheriff’s car, but that didn’t keep her from barking like she was some sort of vicious attack dog.

Tucker handed the “crime scene kit” over to Nate.

“Did you remember the camera?” asked Nate.

Tucker smiled and handed him the camera.

“Good. I’ll start in the backyard”, said Nate. “You take the prisoner to the office, lock him up tight and come back out here. We’ve got a lot of work to do”.

“Long night, yes sir”, said Tucker. “I’ll be back as soon as I can”. Tucker got Shawn out of the sheriff’s car and put him in his car before he headed for the sheriff’s office.

4 – Morning Coffee

I awoke with a start. The red numbers on my alarm clock read 3:37 am. Ugh! I let out a heavy sigh. I tossed and turned for a while before going back to sleep.

I woke up again at 9:14. I got up, took a shower, and headed for my office.

Keith was at his desk, mumbling something about Claudia and her weak ass coffee, while Claudia was at her desk slamming things around and mumbling about stupid ass men and their strong as death coffee.

“Woman! Don’t you know the Turkish proverb by now? I’ve said it a hundred times: ‘Coffee should be black as hell, strong as death, and sweet as love’. Drinking weak ass coffee is like French kissing your sister. It just ain’t right”, said Keith.

“Humph!” said Claudia in a huff. She had a scowl on her face that could melt pavement or boil Canada, whichever came first. She was giving Baked Alaska an entirely new meaning.

“I don’t even wanna know”. I sat down at my desk and started checking email. “Is there any coffee?” They both snarled and growled at me. “Never mind”, I said, putting my hands up in the air. “I’ll go to Babe’s”.

Babe’s Coffee Shop was only a half a block away, but today it felt like it took an eternity to walk there.

Isaac was perched in his usual spot outside the front door, blowing away on his saxophone. Hearing him on that sax is usually the highlight of my day.

Isaac was an old, black man and an Army veteran. He’d lost his right leg from the knee down several years ago in Vietnam. He’s got a prosthetic leg, but he makes a lot more money without it when he’s sitting in that wheelchair of his than he does when he wears the leg.

Babe Morgan was in his office, while his daughter, Callie, was working behind the counter.

“Good morning, Savannah”, said Callie.

‘She’s far too perky for ten in the morning’, I thought to myself, ‘I may have to kill her’.

“Do you want the usual?” asked Callie.

“Yes, please”. That was all I could manage to say to her without ripping out her vocal cords. I am not a morning person.

Babe came out of his office and smiled when he saw me.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite private investigator”, said Babe, “What’s on your agenda for the day?”

“Private detective”, I said, “Grumpy employees, hoards of work to do that I am not awake enough to get done or really want to do for that matter. You know – the usual”.

Callie handed me my bear claw and coffee. I handed her the money but she refused to take it.

“Dad told me not to accept money from you anymore”, said Callie.

“After everything you did for me and my family, anything you get is on the house from now on!” exclaimed Babe.

Last year, Callie had been accused of stealing a car and being part of a car theft ring. It turned out that there was a girl that looked just like her. Her doppelganger was a car thief.

Callie was cruising around with some of her friends at the time, so she didn’t have a verifiable alibi. I had helped clear her name.

I smiled and said thank you. Babe jogged around the counter and gave me a big bear hug to go with my bear claw. I ordered four more coffees to go and headed back to the office.

Isaac was still outside, so I handed him a coffee and threw a ten spot in his saxophone case. He didn’t stop playing, but instead nodded a thank you and smiled.

“Catch ya next time, Isaac”, I said as I walked away.

When I got back to the office, Keith and Claudia were still acting like a couple of two year olds. I handed them each a coffee, just the way they liked them. I won’t swear to it, but I think I saw a slight smile on the faces of my grouchy employees.

I sat down at my desk, threw out the now empty coffee cup and started on the full cup.

I checked my email. There was only one new one. Apparently, I’ve won the fifteen million dollar lottery in Uganda. You’d think these spamming idiots would come up with something more believable.

Claudia smiled as she dropped a huge stack of file folders onto my desk.

“Are any of these new?” I asked, with little hope, I might add.

“Nope, those are the cases you still haven’t solved”, said Keith. “THESE are the new ones”, he said, handing me eleven more files.

I let out a sigh and started rifling through the older files just to see if any new ideas sparked. I really hate taking pictures of cheating spouses or for paranoid spouses in general, but they do pay the bills.

When a new case comes in, Claudia takes down the necessary starter information from the client, gets the retainer fee, and explains the process along with the fee and payment set-up.

The clients all understand that if they don’t pay me, not only do they not get what they paid for, but I’ll also sue their ass for the every dime of the money they owe me.

Some of these shit birds think I’ll do the work for them then they can get away with not paying. That just does not work for either me or for my grumpy and sarcastic employees.

Claudia gives the client’s information to my computer mastermind, Keith. He does the basic research and gets an idea of where to find whoever or whatever I’m looking for.

It’s only then that I get involved. Keith and Claudia are very good at what they do, thankfully, so I’m willing to put up with a lot from either one of them. Good thing too. Sometimes they can be too much for most people, but then again, so can I.

5 – Visiting Hours

Jolynn Baker was sitting at her desk inside the Hope County Sheriff’s office when Jessica Greenley came bursting through the front door. Jolynn’s computer was to her right, phone to her left, and the CB radio was on a small table behind her, next to the fax machine.

Not much happened in Hope County. Occasionally, there’d be some kids that were too close to Mr. Glepsheen’s front yard. His mailbox had been knocked off the post a few times by baseball bats. He was a hateful old bastard, so that didn’t really surprise me. He’s the only person I’ve ever seen that goes outside and literally measures the grass in his yard with a ruler.

There’d been a few break-ins over the years in the nearby towns, but most of the time, it was just someone getting drunk and making a fool out of themselves at one of the local bars

Yep, not much usually happens here in Hopeville. Alena’s murder changed that and a lot of other things in this small, Texas town.

Jessica and I had been best friends since I was ten years old (she was eight at the time). She moved in across the street from me when her dad married my neighbor. We’ve been the best of friends ever since.

After her brother, Shawn, called her from the sheriff’s office, she got there as fast as she could.

“Jolynn”, said Jessica as she walked through the front doorway, “what happened? Why did Nate arrest my brother? What’s he doing to clear him?”

“I don’t know the details, hun. You’ll have to ask the sheriff”, said Jolynn.

“Can I see him? Please?” asked Jessica.

Jolynn sighed and said, “If I hadn’t have changed yours and your brother’s diapers when you were babies, I’d say no. But, since no one else is in lock-up right now, go on back…first door on your right and then down to the end of the hall. He’s in the last cell”.

Jessica breathed a sigh of relief and said thank you as she made her way towards her brother’s jail cell.

Shawn jumped up when he saw Jessica.

“Baby brother, there’s no one here but you, me, and God. Tell me the truth. Did you kill that woman?”

“No, of course I didn’t kill her or anyone else. I was in Miss Johnson’s backyard to do the upkeep on the pool. That’s it. That’s all there is to it, except for the dog and the body parts. I saw that damn poodle digging up her tulip garden. I knew she’d be pissed, so I went to get the dog and found out she was chewing on a foot. I was trying to get it away from her when the sheriff came into the backyard.”, said Shawn.

“If you swear to me on Momma and Daddy’s graves, I’ll believe you” said Jessica.

“I swear on Momma and Daddy’s graves that I did not kill that woman”, said Shawn.

Satisfied with his answer, Jessica said, “That’s all I needed to hear. Come hell or high water, I’m going to get you out of this, baby brother”.

“I only get one phone call so I need you to get me a lawyer”

“I’ll find you the best lawyer I can get as soon as I leave here”

“Maybe you could put in a call to Savannah too. It may not help, but it can’t hurt”, said Shawn.

“I’ll go by her office”, said Jessica. “It’s just around the corner”.

“Thanks, big sister. Love you”, said Shawn.

“Love you too, Baby Bro”.

6 – Anything for a Friend

It was a quarter past noon when Jessica came into my office. I was still reading over the older case files. I hadn’t even made it to the new ones yet.

“Hey, girl, what’s shaking?” I asked.

“I – We need your help”, said Jessica.

“Why? What’s up?”

“Shawn’s been arrested”

“Seriously?” I asked. “What in the hell for?”

“Murder”, said Jessica.

I’m not positive, but I think my jaw dropped to the floor at that moment. I’m pretty sure everyone else’s did too. It only a few minutes before anyone spoke, but it felt like a lifetime.

“He was caught in Alena Johnson’s backyard playing tug-of-war with a poodle and a dismembered foot”.

“Maybe you better sit down and tell me the whole story”, I said.

7 – The Law Offices of Todd Wakefield

Todd Wakefield was the best defense attorney in the state of Texas. The best attorney also comes with a high price. It just so happened that this high-priced attorney owed me a favor.

Three years ago I helped him prove that his now ex-wife was cheating on him, which kept her from cleaning him out in the divorce. He was so grateful he wanted to pay me triple my fees.

While that sounded fantastic, I opted for having him owe me a favor instead. I didn’t know if I’d ever actually use that owed favor, but I really liked having the option available if I ever needed it.

I dropped by his office, unannounced, hoping to get a moment to talk to him. His secretary was a tall, snooty woman with her blouse cut far too low and not enough cleavage to be wearing such a thing. It took everything in me to not tell her to put on clothes that don’t make her look like a two dollar whore.

“I’m here to see Mr. Wakefield”, I said.

Miss Snooty looked down her nose at me and asked if I had an appointment.

“No, but he’ll be happy to see me”.

She looked at me as if she were one of the mega rich and famous and said, “No appointment. Humph. What makes you think Mr. Wakefield has the time for the likes of you?”

I looked at her sternly, holding in my anger as best I could, gave her my best fake smile, and said, “You’re new here, so I’ll say this once and only once. You WILL let him know that Savannah Hartman is here or I WILL make sure you no longer work here so that you can go back to grocery shopping in the dumpster and accepting two dollar tricks on the corner”.

She was just as pissed off as I was at that point, but I was not going to back down. I had far more clout here than she did and I wasn’t afraid to use it.

She picked up the phone and buzzed Mr. Wakefield. “Savannah Hartman is here to see you”.

Todd came almost running out of his office. “Savannah! C’mon girl! Get in here and let’s talk!” he said. He motioned towards his open office door in an almost animated way and I went in.

He sits down behind his desk and asks me to have a seat. “So what brings you out to the big city?”

I explained Shawn’s situation to him and then told him about Jessica. “She is my best friend in this world since I was 10 years old. Neither of them can afford an attorney, at least not one that would give a damn what happened to Shawn. They need your help, so here I am calling in that favor you owe me”.

He nodded and said, “I’ll go talk to him this afternoon. Let me see what I can do”.

I told him thank you and asked what I can do to help with the case.

“Just do what you always do. Find the truth”.

8 – Mysterious Caller

I went back to my office around one o’clock and called Jessica. I told her about my meeting with Todd and that he said he’d meet with Shawn this afternoon to discuss his case.

“Savannah, we can’t pay for that uppity of a lawyer”, said Jessica.

“Don’t worry about it. I got it covered”, I said. “Todd owes me a favor”.

I hung up the phone and went to work on my back log of cases.

“Okay, we’re outta here”, said Keith.

“Huh?” I said. I looked at the clock and realized it was already five o’clock in the evening. “Oh, yeah okay. See y‘all on Monday. Try not to be too much of a jackass over the weekend”.

“That’s Mr. Jackass to you”, said Keith.

I stayed a little while longer to work some more on the older cases. I believe it was around eight pm when I finally left.

As soon as I got home, I got in the shower and got ready for bed. I watched the television for a while to relax. When that didn’t work, I decided to fix myself a drink. “There’s nothing like a shot of whiskey to clear the mind”.

I went to bed but sleep didn’t happen right away. I was thinking about Shawn’s case. “I just can’t believe Shawn would do something like this”, I said out loud to myself. “He’s not quiet or withdrawn. He’s never harmed animals that I know of. He just doesn’t fit the profile of a psychotic killer. There has to be something I’m missing. There just has to be”. I closed my eyes and eventually drifted off to sleep.

That night I dreamt Shawn was convicted. In the dream, the judge turned into the grim reaper and handed Shawn a bloody foot wearing a torn high heeled shoe. Stella (the little white poodle) was standing on the ground next to him with a tiny bit of flesh hanging from her lower front teeth.

I asked the judge to show mercy on Shawn. He just laughed and said his punishment will fit the crime and raised his scythe. He aimed, told me to answer my phone, and then started swinging his scythe down at me. I woke up in a sweaty panic right before he cut me in half. My phone was ringing.

“Hello??” I asked, still disoriented from the nightmare.

The voice on the other end of the line was rough and sounded like he was trying to disguise his voice. “Drop the case or you’re dead”, said the mysterious caller as he hung up. I checked the caller ID. “Unknown” was all it said for the last incoming call.

I looked at my evil alarm clock. It was mocking me, showing me that it was only 5:16 in the morning. I turned off the alarm, closed my eyes and drifted back to sleep.

9 – Isaac

I woke up around 8:30, got up, got ready, and headed for Babe’s Coffee Shop. Isaac was out front with his saxophone. I said hello to him and went inside.

Babe greeted me at the counter and I told him I’d have my usual.

“Did you finally let your daughter have a day off?”

“No, she informed me that she wasn’t coming in today. She’s finally registering for her college classes”. He put his hands together in a praying motion and looked up as if he was pleading with God for her to follow through for once.

I smiled and told him to just keep the faith. I took my bear claw and my four coffees then headed out the door.

I gave Isaac his daily cup of java and threw a five dollar bill in his saxophone case. “I’ll throw more in there tomorrow when I get paid for actually doing some work”.

Isaac just smiled and said, “See you tomorrow, Sugah”.

He’d called me ’Sugah” since the day I met him a few years ago outside of my office building. I’m not really sure why he started calling me ‘Sugah’, but the name stuck.

He was playing his saxophone with his case open on the ground but he wasn’t getting any tips. There are some cheap ass people in my building, I swear! I told him he’d be better off sitting outside Babe’s Coffee Shop.

He was new in town, so I walked down to Babe’s with him. Well, I walked, not him. I pushed his wheelchair after I helped him pick up his saxophone case.

When he and I got to Babe’s, I introduced them, he played his sax for Babe and Babe was hooked. He practically begged him to play outside of his shop. He thought it made the perfect atmosphere for his customers, so ever since then, Babe has encouraged Isaac to play there.

When I walked into my office, Keith and Claudia were wrapped up in a heated kiss. She was sitting in his lap, facing him at the time. Thankfully their clothes were still on. That’s a mental image I don’t ever want to get stuck with!

“Ugh! Will you two PLEASE save that for home and not do that here in my office, thank you very much!!” I said.

Keith walked back to his desk with a smile on his face. He knew he had annoyed me so his first mission of the day had been accomplished.

Claudia was a bit embarrassed, so she merely sat down behind her computer and hid from the both of us while she worked.

I gave them their coffees and sat down at my desk to begin the daily grind, no pun intended.

I returned phone calls, answered emails, and grabbed the next file in the stack to work on. The client for this case was Rod Martin. He’s such a douche bag.

I really hated taking this case, but the money is needed and welcomed. I charge the scum bags double just because I can.

Rod Martin was a married man, but he wanted me to follow his mistress around to see if I could catch her cheating on him, just the same. Really? This guy is a total sleaze ball. I think my rates for him just went up to triple.

“Okay you two. Don’t be making out again while I’m gone. I’d hate for a client to come in here and see that. I like it better when you two are surly and fighting over how you like your coffee”.

“So where ya goin’?” asked Keith, still smiling.

“I’m going out to look for Rod Martin’s mistress and snag pictures of whatever or whoever she’s doing”, I said.

“That should be fun. Glad it’s you and not me”, said Keith sarcastically.

10 – The Mistress

Veronica Fagen was a 5’7”, voluptuous red head. Her choice in clothing was geared more toward the tightest-fitting, cleavage-showing, butt-hugging short skirts and the sexiest dresses that she could squeeze herself into.

She was much smarter than she looked, although most of the time she played the part of a complete ditz. She was also Rod Martin’s self-professed, high-priced mistress.

I drove out to Veronica’s penthouse apartment near Dallas. I had her license plate number, so I had planned on checking the lot for her car. It ended up being a covered lot that was for residents only (complete with a gate guard), so getting into it without a pass was not going to be an option.

It looked like I was going to have to sit outside and wait this one out. I let out a sigh and thought that with my luck, I’d get bored and fall asleep.

I waited a good five hours before I had any luck. It was just after midnight, and the little mistress was just getting home. She was dropped off by the front door in a long, white, stretch limo. I started snapping pictures as soon as I saw her. Her date gave her a very long kiss goodnight and not just on the cheek.

Apparently, she wasn’t satisfied with just a goodnight kiss. She leaned into the limo, said something to the driver, and he drove away, leaving her date there with her.

The two walked into the guarded entrance of her apartment building, pawing each other in a manner that was much too crude to have been done in public.

I snapped as many pictures as I could before they were out of view. Rod’s going to be happy and pissed off that he was right about his mistress. I wonder what his wife’s reaction would be.

I stayed outside until about 4 am when I saw her boy toy leaving. I snapped pictures with the timestamp so that Rod would know what time the two of them got there and when he left.

Even though it was still a two hour drive away, I could hear my bed calling my name. Before I ever got out of Dallas, I had changed my mind about making the drive and opted to stop and sleep for a while instead. I pulled into the parking lot of the closest police station, lowered my seat back, and fell asleep.

Three hours later, I was awakened by a police officer knocking on the driver’s side window of my car.

“Ma’am, are you all right?” asked the officer.

I was groggy but I managed to tell him that I was fine and that I was too far away from home to feel safe about driving and too broke to get a motel room. I figured the parking lot of the local police department would be the safest place to park and sleep.

He laughed then told me that was the best one he had heard yet but I’d still have to move on or someone would end up arresting me for vagrancy. Vagrancy? In my own car? Seriously??

I politely thanked him, even though I didn’t mean a word of it, and worked on waking up enough to drive home. A few minutes later, that same officer came outside with a cup of coffee in a little disposable foam cup.

“It’s not much, but it’s strong. It should wake you up enough to drive with no problem”.

This time my thank you was sincere. When it cooled off enough, I drank up the coffee then when I was able to drive, I headed home.