11 – Leave Me a Message

I woke up around two in the afternoon. I had four unread text messages and five voicemails. One text was from Jessica asking me to call her when I read this. Two were from Keith wondering where the hell I was and why I wasn’t answering my phone.

Dumbass. He apparently forgot I was doing a stake out. The other text was from my phone company telling me my bill was past due. No shit.

Two voice mails were hang-ups, one was from Jessica, one was from Keith, and the other, well, I don’t know who that was. Why did the voice sound so familiar? Oh! Now I remember! I forgot all about the phone call I had gotten yesterday morning.

I get so many threatening calls in my line of work that I usually just ignore them. I think it’s the same guy, but I’m not sure. I think it’s him. Yeah, it’s him. I think.

I played the last voice mail again. The guy sounded like the slasher psychopath in some cheesy ass horror movie. “Drop the case or I’ll be coming to get you”. That’s it. That’s all he said. Really? How am I supposed to ignore him about dropping a case if I don’t know which case I need to ignore him about? Ugh! I really find people in general so incredibly annoying sometimes.

I walked to the kitchen and checked the fridge. Nothing. I checked the cabinets. Nothing. I let out a big sigh and decided to just take a shower and head for Babe’s. What? I needed coffee.

Callie was working behind the counter. She looked at her watch when I walked in. “Um…do you….want your usual??”

“Just two coffees today, nothing else”, I said.

My phone rang. It was Jessica. “Hey. I just got up and went for coffee. Sorry I haven’t had a chance to call you back yet”.

“It’s fine. Keith said you were on a stake out last night”, said Jessica. “Have ya eaten yet?”

“No, just now ordered coffee”

“Meet me at Mamasita’s. I’m buying”.

“Okay, when?”

“Right now”, said Jessica.

“I’m not about to turn down free Mexican food and strawberry margaritas. I’m on my way”.

I hung up the phone and took my coffees from the counter. I told Callie goodbye and headed out the door, passing off both coffees to Isaac on my way to my car.

Mamasita’s Mexican Grill & Cantina is the only decent Mexican food restaurant in a forty mile radius. It’s not that wonderful, but it’s better than cooking it myself.

The strawberry margaritas are fantastic. That alone makes it worth it to try to survive the gas attack that will inevitably show up after eating one of their humungous beef and bean burritos, aka ‘The Blazing Burrito’.

I walked in the front door and made my way over to the bar where Jessica was waiting for me.

“Ok, so what’s up?” I asked.

“Mr. Wakefield came to see Shawn yesterday. He’s going to represent him. He and Shawn discussed the details and he said he was going to start working on his case immediately”, said Jessica.

“Good. I’m glad”, I said.

“Oh and before we start drinking and I forget, Mr. Wakefield wants you to call him when you get a chance. Shawn asked that you be the detective that’s working on his case with his attorney. I think Mr. Wakefield agreed, but he wants to speak with you about it first”.

“Let me call him before our drinking commences”, I said and dialed Todd’s cell phone number. Just as expected, he wanted to check with me and make sure I had time to be the detective on the case. I told him I would make the time.

“Okay chickie, it’s time for a strawberry margarita pitcher”. I waved at the bartender. Not long after that, we were on our way to a pretty good buzz. “I’m starving. I probably should eat something before I end up getting too drunk to drive”.

I ordered one of their Blazing Burritos: beans, beans, and more beans, ground beef, spices, cheese, onions, tomatoes, cilantro, and my favorite, the hot as hell jalapeño slices. I know I’m going to pay for this later. I’m just too drunk right now to give a damn.

12 – Garden Photography

I spent most of Sunday recovering from the burrito and the strawberry margaritas, which had ultimately turned into straight tequila shots halfway through the second pitcher.

When Monday morning rolled around, it was time to get back to work. I took a shower, got ready, and headed out to the office. On the way there, I decided to take a little detour and take some crime scene photos of my own.

When I got to Alena’s house, the crime scene tape was still intact. I hate the possibility of contaminating a crime scene with my boots, but sometimes it’s just a necessity. At least the police have already been through it, so I guess I can’t do too much damage. I think.

I made sure I parked a few doors down. There was a for sale sign in the yard, so I didn’t think that anyone would panic about a strange car being parked on the street in front of it.

The gate to the backyard was locked from the inside, so after making sure no one was around, I started climbing. I got halfway over the fence, lost my balance and fell face first into the grass on the other side.

That was probably the only time I was actually thankful that it hadn’t rained in weeks. My camera was ok, but I’m not so sure about my face. I took pictures of the yard, especially the tulip garden and the area immediately surrounding it.

The yard looked normal with the exception of the crime scene tape surrounding the tulip garden. There were also a few strips across the back door, and a cheap lock box on the door handle. I sighed and thought to myself, “Lock box using amateurs”.

I used my trusty little lock picking kit to remove the unalarmed lock box from the handle and unlock the back door. I took several pictures in each room of the house, including the attic.

I tried to open the door that led down to the cellar, but it was too heavy to open one handed. I set my camera down on the kitchen counter and went back to open the door.

Just as I turned the handle, a man came rushing out of the stairwell, knocking me back on my ass. I had almost gotten back up when a second man came running out, knocking me down again.

I got up, grabbed my camera, and ran after them out the back door, and through the now open gate. I snapped as many pictures of them as I could before they got into their black SUV three houses down and sped off, squealing their tires as they went.

I knew this would draw attention from the neighbors, so I went ahead and called the sheriff myself. Of course, I didn’t want to tell him the entire truth and risk getting myself arrested, so I told him a more legal version of the truth.

The version I told him was that I went by her house; saw that the crime scene tape was still there, and so I was going to leave until I saw shadows moving around in the front part of the house.

I told him that I went into the backyard to check it out and two men came running out of the house. I told him that I had chased them down, taking as many pictures of them as I could before they got away. I let him know that I would be emailing him the photos as soon as I got to the office.

I went home and got cleaned up again after having fallen over the fence and being knocked on my ass a couple of times then headed for the office.

As soon as I walked in, I handed Keith my camera. He and Claudia were busy working and only working (for a change).

I told him about the morning’s festivities. I asked him to run a facial recognition scan on the two men and then put all of the pictures from today on a separate flash drive for me to go through.

I told him I was going to email only the running photos of the men to Sheriff Russell and we wouldn’t mention the others that had been taken, for obvious reasons.

Keith started the scan and I headed for Babe’s Coffee Shop. I ordered my usual along with a box of assorted donuts for Keith and Claudia. Eh, I felt generous, so what the hell.

While I was waiting, I looked outside and saw the men that trampled me at Alena’s house standing on the sidewalk across the street, looking towards the coffee shop.

I told Babe I’d be right back and ran outside. They booked it as soon as they saw me, running into the alley and around the corner.

By the time I got to the end of the alleyway, they were gone. “Dammit!” I exclaimed, and went back across the street to the coffee shop. These guys are getting on my last damn nerve!

Keith’s search was still running when I got back to the office, so I opened up the next case file and got to work while I ate my bear claw and my crème filled chocolate éclair.

This case was another infidelity case. Georgia Martin thinks her husband Rod is cheating on her. BWAHAHA!!! Pure greatness! I will get paid twice for taking pictures of the same woman. This is truly classic!

I’m glad now that Rod paid me in cash before I got started on this case. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t want to pay me for the work I did for him if he found out his wife hired me too.

Of course, I didn’t tell him that he was being charged double my usual rate. I kind of left out the part that would have told him he was paying the “sleaze ball rate” when I emailed him the invoice for the final price. I figure what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, at least not with this particular case.

“I need to head out for a while and take some more pictures. Did you move the photo files to the flash drive yet?” I asked Keith.

“Ya, you’re good to go”

I told him thank you, took the camera, and drove out to the house that Rod Martin had rented but didn’t tell his wife about.

He made the mistake of telling me that he has her meet him there when he can’t get away for long. So, since it wasn’t too far away, I decided to check there first. I damn sure didn’t want to drive back out to her penthouse if I didn’t have to.

Both of their cars were in the driveway. Yep, they were there all right. Now, I just have to get close enough to them to take the pictures.

The next door neighbors were unloading groceries from their minivan. I couldn’t get out of my car until they went indoors. I had to pretend I was talking on the phone so that I wouldn’t look like some creepy-brunette-car-sitting-stalker.

When the coast was finally clear, I got out of the car, camera in hand. I knew the window to the master bedroom was around back.

Rod Martin was far too generous with information about him and his mistress. Ugh! The unwanted mental images he gave me, yuck! I don’t think I’ll ever get rid of them.

The sides of the house recently had stones added. It was actually very pretty. Almost tripping over the extra loose stones on the ground, however, did not bode well with me.

The bedroom curtains were wide open. I swear these people have no shame! I carefully peaked in the window, trying not to be seen. Hmm. They weren’t in there. Well damn now I have to hunt for them.

I went around the outside of the house peeking in all of the windows, being careful enough not to be seen by Rod, Veronica, or any of the neighbors.

Until I got to the kitchen window, there was no sign of anyone being there at all.

Rod was just standing in the middle of the kitchen. I blindly snapped a few pictures, since I couldn’t stand up enough near the window without being seen. That’s when I saw her.

Veronica Fagen was lying on the floor in a bloody mess. From the amount of blood on the floor, I think it would be safe to assume that she was dead. I let out a small gasp then prayed to God that Rod Martin hadn’t heard me.

I didn’t want to, but I knew I needed to look again so I could take some incriminating photographs. He was only a minor league sleaze ball, but I wasn’t about to let him get away with cold-blooded murder.

I got a grip on myself enough to peek in the window again. God, please don’t let him see me!

When I looked back into the window, Rod was right there, staring back at me. His face was right there at the window!

It scared the hell out of me so badly that I fell backwards onto my tailbone. Great. There’s a butcher-knife-wielding-psychopath in the house and I think I just broke my ass.

I got up as fast as I could, grabbed my camera, and tried to run but all I could manage to do was hobble towards my car. Rod caught up to me before I ever got out of the back yard.

He grabbed my arm, which made me fall backwards onto the ground and then he climbed on top of me and sat on my stomach.

He grabbed me by my throat with both hands and started choking me. I couldn’t breathe. I’m pretty sure I passed out. I passed out or died. I’m not sure which. No, wait, I can’t be dead because I can still see that crazy bastard in front of my face.

The only thing I could do from the way he was sitting on me was to grab his ears, dig my fingernails into his flesh as hard as I could, and pull forward.

He yelped in pain like a wounded animal, let go of my throat, and reached for his bleeding ears with both hands. As soon as he did that, I moved my hands and pushed him backwards as best as I could. It didn’t knock him far, but threw him off balance enough that I could get out from under him.

He came after me again. I knew I couldn’t out run him with my ass being broken, so I grabbed one of the loose stones from the leftover building supplies and hit him as hard as I could across his forehead. I had knocked him out cold and he went down with a loud thud.

When I caught my breath, I went to my car where I had left my mobile phone and called the local police. I had a license to carry, but I’d left it in the car as well, so after I called the police, I took my gun back with me in case Rod woke back up before the law got there. Fortunately, he didn’t.

From what I was told later by the arresting officer, Rod woke up in the hospital after getting seventeen stitches on his forehead from the wound he suffered by me pelting him with that big ass rock.

He confessed to the murder before he ever left the hospital. He said he found out she was cheating on him. He had told her that she could not have any other men as long as she was with him. He just wouldn’t have it. She agreed and said fine she’d no longer be with him, if that’s the case. That was when he went ape shit crazy.

Privacy issues from other open cases of mine were at stake, so I refused to hand over my camera as evidence. I did, however, agree to allow two of the officers that were on the scene (one to ride with me and the other to drive the squad car) to my office and transfer the crime scene photos to a flash drive for them to keep.

13 – Detours, Shmetours

When I walked back into the office, Keith started to tell me about the facial recognition scan results. I lowered my eyebrows and quickly put my index finger across my lips as if to say “Shh!” when the two officers walked in behind me. We didn’t exactly have a legal user’s license for that pirated copy of crime solving software.

I told Keith what happened as I handed him the camera. He grabbed one of the many blank flash drives from the box on his desk and loaded up the photos that the police were waiting for.

Keith handed them the flash drive and they headed back to their squad room, two towns over.

“Well you’ve had an eventful day, haven’t you”, said Claudia.

“Yeah”, I said. I looked at the clock on the wall and sighed. “It’s only three in the afternoon, but I think I will go ahead and call it a night. Keith if you’ll just email me those results before you go home, please. I’ll read them in the morning. I’m spent”.

We said our goodbyes and I headed on home. My bathtub was calling my name, but first I needed to take a little detour to the emergency room for my broken ass.

14 – Recovering with Burgers

The next morning, I awakened to bright sunlight. There were no creepy phone messages or texts. There was no one on or near my property but me and, of course, the squirrels running through the trees in my backyard.

For a moment, I forgot my ass was broken and just enjoyed lying there while I was waking up. That is, I enjoyed it until the pain hit.

It took me a while, but I finally managed to roll out of bed. Climbing out of bed was definitely not an option the morning after breaking my tailbone.

I made my way to the kitchen, ate a bowl of cereal standing up, and took a pain med given to me by the attending physician from last night’s emergency room visit.

I called Claudia and told her I’m staying home for the next few days. I wasn’t sure exactly how long I was going to be laid up.

“Can you or Keith bring my back log of files to the house when you get a chance?” I asked.

“Sure. You want them now or later?”

“Later this afternoon, preferably. I just popped a pain pill. I’m about to go back to bed”.

I woke up again around one o’clock to the sound of my phone ringing.

“Get dressed and bring your broken ass to the kitchen. I brought the files along with some food and coffee, courtesy of Claudia”, said Keith.

Keith didn’t have his own copy of my house key, but he did have access to one. I always leave an extra set of house and car keys in my desk drawer at the office.

I also keep a random set of keys that I no longer have a need for, other than scratching the paint on some idiot’s vehicle if I ever felt the need to. In this business, you have to be prepared for anything.

I rolled out of bed again, got dressed, and waddled to the kitchen. Keith was sitting at the table, waiting. He had one of the files lying open and the rest of them sitting in a stack next to it.

“We got you a burger and some fries. Your coffee is over there”, he said, pointing to the bag that was sitting on the counter. My two large coffees were sitting next to it.

“So, tell me what you came up with via the facial recognition scan”, I said.

Keith read me the results from the open file.

“The dark-haired, chubby one is Gus Porter. The skinny blond one in the tank top is his brother, Louie. Gus’s rap sheet is full of robberies and petty theft. Louie’s is like his brother’s but he not-so-politely added assault with a deadly weapon, kidnapping, and attempted murder to his repertoire. There are a lot of ties to mob with these two. I’d tell you to back off, but knowing you I’m not going to waste my breath. I’ll just say that these guys are seriously bad news”.

“Well I’m not going anywhere for a few days. My ass hurts”.

He laughed at me, of course. Keith would never pass up a chance to chuckle at my misfortune.

“You DO realize that he tried to kill me, right?” I asked.

“It’s not the first time a client tried to kill you. I’m sure it won’t be the last”, said Keith.

“Funny”, I said, sarcastically.

Keith got up from the table and said, “We’ll bring you some groceries later when we bring dinner”.

He walked to the other side of the kitchen and stopped at the door. He turned around towards me and said, “I’m glad you’re okay”.

15 – Bartender, I’ll Take a Beer

Over the next few days if I wasn’t asleep, I was lying on my stomach and up on my elbows going over my back logged case files. I was still sore as hell, but I had gotten to the point that I was able to climb out of bed instead of rolling out of it.

Claudia had added Shawn’s case file to the stack. Shawn’s wasn’t one of the back logged cases, but she knew I’d want to mull it over while I was out of commission.

The file said Alena had moved to Hopeville six month ago. She wasn’t a partier. It looked like she didn’t even leave the house except to go to work and to the grocery store in town. She led a pretty boring life up until she was murdered and chopped up into little pieces.

She worked at Ryer’s Pub. I haven’t been there in years. It wasn’t because I didn’t want a drink now and then. It was because I didn’t have the time or the energy by the time my work day was over.

I’m only thirty three years old but some days I felt more like I was eighty. I guess a trip to Ryer’s Pub was in order. I’m past the point of needing the pain meds for my broken ass, but I could definitely use a drink.

When I walked into the bar later that afternoon, there was a man wiping down a table with the bluest eyes I had ever seen. It was love at first sight, at least for me. Well, maybe it was more like lust at first sight.

He had dark brown hair, broad shoulders, little bit of chest hair showing at the top of his collar, a clean cut beard, and the cutest dimples. Wow.

“Well hello there!” he said. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before”.

“That’s because I haven’t been here in several years. If I had known you were here for me to look at, I would have been here a lot sooner”.

He smiled and said, “I’m Mitch Redman”

“Oh that was out loud wasn’t it. Sorry”, I laughed. “I’m Savannah Hartman. It’s nice to meet you”.

He was still smiling. “No apologies necessary and the pleasure is all mine. Have a seat anywhere”, said Mitch as he walked around the counter. “What can I get for you?”

“I’ll take a beer. Just whatever’s on tap, but I think I’ll stand for now. Broken tailbone”, I said.

“Ouch”, said Mitch. “Well if you change your mind and want to sit down, I can get a pillow for you out of the office”.

“I might just take you up on that”, I said as he handed me my beer. I looked around the bar. I was the only one there besides Mitch, but it was still early.

Mitch went back to cleaning. It looked like he was the only employee. I really wanted to ask him about Alena, but all I could think about was how hot he looked in those jeans.

“Do you run this place all by yourself?” I asked.

“Naw, I have a couple of bartenders and waitresses. They’ll be here in a few hours. It gets busy in here after the quitting time of some of the boys in town”, he said.

After a short pause, he corrected himself. “That is, I had a couple of waitresses, now I just have one and she’s the worst waitress I’ve ever worked with”.

“A waitress that bad doesn’t sound so good for business”, I said. I was hoping to leave it open for him to say something on his own about Alena so I wouldn’t have to ask.

“Well, it doesn’t hurt anymore than it did with two waitresses. Now, it’s just me picking up the slack instead of Alena. She was murdered last week”.

He looked like he might tear up a little bit when he mentioned Alena’s death, so I thought it best to leave it alone for the time being.

Normally, I would have seen this as just a weak moment and gone straight for the jugular. Instead, I just finished my beer, left him a generous tip on the bar, and waddled my way out the front door.

16 – Sleazy Creepy Crawlers

I headed back to the office for a little while with my stack of back logged files. I stayed long enough to type up findings reports for the finished cases, including one for Georgia Martin.

I faxed the $0 dollar invoice to her and told her that in lieu of the circumstances surrounding her case, I didn’t feel right charging her for my detective work.

She immediately responded with a phone call. “Miss Hartman, thank you for getting that low life cheating bastard out of my life once and for all! I will not allow you to work for free, at least not for me. I am going to pay you double. You’ve earned it and I will not take no for an answer”.

She promptly hung up, not giving me the option or opportunity to talk her out of it. Eh, I can deal with getting the sleaze ball rate twice for the same guy, on two different cases. I couldn’t help but smile when I told Keith and Claudia what Georgia Martin had just told me.

“Talk about your poetic justice”, said Claudia.

I smiled again and opened the next case file. The client’s name was Barrie Landers. According to the information listed in the file, his ex-wife stole his pet tarantula and he wants it back. My smile disappeared and I said, very loudly I might add, “Oh HELLLLLLL no!”

Keith and Claudia both laughed.

“I bet I know which case she’s reading”, Keith said with an evil laugh.

Claudia giggled but didn’t comment.

“Why in the hell can’t he just go get his own damn spider back? I HATE spiders, especially the big hairy ones. Call him back and tell him NOOOOOOOOO”, I said.

“He can’t”, said Claudia. “His ex filed a no-contact restraining order against him. He can’t get anywhere near the house without going to jail. He offered an extra ten grand in addition to your sleaze ball rate if we’ll take the case”.

“We need the extra money around here, Savannah”, said Keith.

I sighed and said, “Yeah, I know. Call him up and tell him to come up here around three tomorrow to discuss the details with me”. I shuddered. “I really HATE spiders”.

Todd Wakefield called an hour later. Claudia told me that he wanted me to come out to his office around seven tonight. He wanted to talk to me about a few cases that he only trusted me to work on.

“Tell him I’ll be there”, I said.

17 – Elevator Music

I left Todd’s office around nine with an arm full of new case files to work on. Todd’s office was on the seventh floor, so I always used the elevator whenever I came by. Stairwells have never been my friend.

On the way down, somewhere between the fifth floor and the fourth floor the elevator stopped with a jolt. I grabbed the rails momentarily with my free hand. When the elevator didn’t start back up right away, I put the stack of files down on the elevator floor.

I wasn’t sure if anyone was still in the building on either of these floors, but I started pounding the doors anyway, calling out for help. I tried the emergency phone, but it wasn’t working. I checked my phone: no service. This is just great. I hit the doors a few more times.

“Hello?? Can anyone hear me? The elevator is stuck”, I yelled. When I didn’t get a response, I sat down on the floor and waited. I’m not sure how long I was actually sitting there before the doors were pushed open from the outside, but it felt like an eternity.

I stood up, happy as hell that someone had finally come to help, but my heart sank when I saw who it was. It was Louie Porter.

The elevator was stuck far enough between floors that I couldn’t climb out and, thankfully, Louie couldn’t slither in.

He was squatting and looking at me. He was wearing the same ratty old white tank top, muddy work boots, and jeans as he was the last time I saw him. He had a five o’clock shadow and had a toothpick hanging out of his mouth.

He was just staring at me. If he was trying to intimidate the hell out of me, it was working and it was working well.

He made a gun shape with his hand and pointed it at me. “Bang! You’re DEAD”, he said with a slightly crooked smile.

My gun was in my car and I had left my camera at the office. I can usually hold my own, but right then I was nothing more than a sitting duck.

I heard the stairwell doors open and Louie looked over in that direction. He looked back at me and said, “I’ll be seeing you again real soon”.

I breathed a sigh of relief when he got up and walked away. I closed my eyes and prayed for God to give me a hand with this one.

“Miss Hartman, are you okay?” I heard someone ask.

I opened my eyes and saw good old Max Cooper, the security guard. I laughed nervously and told him how happy I was to see him. “I’m fine. Small confined spaces and I don’t get along so well. Did you see where he went?”

“Where who went?” asked Max. “There’s no one on this floor this late”.

“Damn”, I said.

“Maintenance is on the way. They should have you out of there in no time”, said Max.

18 – Portrait of a Porter

When I went back to the office the next morning, I handed Claudia the files from Todd so she could get them checked them into the system.

I was still a little rattled after yesterday’s run-in with Louie, so concentration skills weren’t really there for me. I sat down at my desk and decided to just go online and research that creepy little bastard a bit more on my own.

I found out that Louie did a five year stint in Huntsville for aggravated assault, possession of stolen property, and possession of an illegal narcotic.

This was all when he was a lot younger, before Texas laws would have provided him with a much longer stay than just a little ole five years in the state pen.

There were other charges against him later on, but they were all eventually dropped. The more I read about him, the less I liked him. The less I liked him, the more I wanted to beat the snot out of him for stalking me and all around giving me the creeps.

Louie’s brother Gus was three years younger and not anywhere near as violent. For the most part, his convictions were just for petty theft. He did a little time in county jail here and there, but he’d never done any hard time.

Their father, Phil, was a drunken, abusive, pathetic excuse for a father.

They never knew their mother. From what little I’d been able to find, she either ran off without her kids, or Phil buried her somewhere that no one is ever likely to find her.

Their father had remarried a girl named Audrey a few years later. Louie was fourteen at the time and Gus was eleven. Phil came home drunk one night and decided it would be a good time to beat on his wife.

Apparently, his timing wasn’t as good as he thought it was. She was ready and waiting for him, shotgun in hand. She told him that the last time he beat her was THE last time.

The prosecutor said it was premeditated murder and the jury agreed. She spent the next twenty years in prison, but said it was worth every minute just to keep him from hurting her or anyone else ever again. It looks like she got an early release a few years ago, but there’s no information on where she went after that.

I still wasn’t sure which case he kept telling me to drop, but I needed to find out soon. I didn’t want him to catch me somewhere that I couldn’t get out of on my own, again. I might not be so lucky next time.

I decided it was time to tell Keith and Claudia what was really going on. I told them that I was worried that he might go after them before it was all said and done so they needed to be aware, which was true.

I conveniently left out the part that said how scared he really had me in that elevator yesterday.

Keith looked at Claudia then back at me. “How about we go take a break for a while and get some lunch”.

“Sounds good. How about Mamasita’s?” I asked. “I could use one or five of their strawberry margaritas right about now”.

They nodded their heads in agreement so we gathered our things and headed out, locking the door behind us.

It was almost noon when we got there and it was already packed. People were standing around outside waiting for a table to open up. The staff was running around like chickens with their heads cut off, just trying to keep up.

“Maybe we should go somewhere else?” suggested Claudia.

“Where else are we going to go where we can eat and she can still have her strawberry margarita at this time of day?” asked Keith.

I smiled and said, “I know just the place”.

A half hour later, we pulled into the parking lot of Ryer’s Pub. Of course, I didn’t tell them that the real reason I wanted to go there was to see Mitch Redman again, but they’re not stupid. It won’t take long for them to figure it out.

19 – Cases and Coffee

We got back to the office around two. We still had a lot of work to do, so it wouldn’t have been the best idea for us to spend all day avoiding it.

I needed to figure out which one of my cases had a connection to the Porter brothers and why he was so intent on making me drop it. Besides, Mitch wasn’t there and the creepy tarantula guy was coming here at three.

I sat down at my desk, checked email, and listened to phone messages. There was nothing important in either, so I grabbed the next file in the stack.

The first file listed a client named Clyde Evans. He owned the only electronics store in town. He sold everything from flash drives to big screen television sets.

His commercials all said the same thing: “Shop with me for the best deals. No one beats Evans Electronics, no one”.

Apparently, one of his employees had been skimming a little off the top. It looked like they were padding the inventory order. They would fudge the paperwork when it was checked in then physically remove the extra items from the store after hours when no one was around.

He had tried a couple of times to catch the thief on video in the store, but he (or she) made sure the cameras weren’t operating when the theft was committed.

The spider freak would be here soon, so when I called Mr. Evans, I asked him if he could come up to my office around five this evening to chat with me about his case.

I told him that I didn’t want his employees getting a heads up that they were about to be busted and he agreed.

I looked at the clock and it was two forty-five. I still had a few minutes until the spider freakazoid, aka Barrie Landers, arrived.

Claudia had started an information sheet on his tarantula case. She had filled in what she could with what information we already had. I pulled the page from the file and reviewed it.

Spider Freak showed up five minutes early and wasn’t at all what I expected him to be. He was clean cut, well dressed, clean shaven, and quite handsome.

I stood up, shook his hand, and introduced myself. I invited him to have a seat, pointing to the chair that was perched in front of my desk.

We discussed his case in detail then I quoted him triple the sleaze ball rate. He agreed and offered a twenty-five thousand dollar bonus, instead of the original bonus amount.

He said the spider was only worth about a hundred dollars. He just didn’t want his ex-wife to have it.

“I’ll pay whatever it takes just to stick it to that bitch”, said Barrie.

He paid me in cash, up front, including the huge bonus. I knew there was probably a lot more to the story than what he was telling me, but who am I to judge? I make a living off of unethical individuals.

It was almost three-thirty by the time he left. That gave me about an hour and a half before my appointment with Mr. Evans. I went over his file, evaluating what would need to be done to catch the thief. I couldn’t use the cameras he already had in place since the thief knew how to bypass them. I’d have to use smaller, well hidden ones that were not connected to his system in any way, shape, or form.

I decided the best option for this case would be an overnight installation, a few hours after the store closed.

Someone would have to go with me. I would need someone to be on the lookout, in case the thief decides to do an after-hours shopping spree.

I jotted down what equipment would be needed, assessing what we already had and what we did not. I had Claudia type it up with the preliminary quote. Of course, this price would change dramatically if Evans turned out to be a sleaze ball.

I still had another hour to go, so I decided to mull over my other case files until Mr. Evans arrived. I opened the tarantula case file and quickly changed my mind. I didn’t want to deal with that one anymore today. I closed the file and put it at the bottom of the stack.

The next file was a case for Casey Gordon. He was accused of stealing a very expensive bracelet from one of the guests of the hotel where he worked.

Casey wanted help to prove his innocence and clear his name. The file said that he worked as a bell hop at Serenity Hollow Luxury Hotel and Spa.

I took the file over to Claudia’s desk and asked her to call him to set up the appointment for tonight at Ryer’s Pub, if possible. Maybe I’ll have the opportunity to see Mitch and get to know him a little better. I can only hope to be so lucky. A few minutes later, she had him on the phone.

“Savannah, Casey Gordon is working tonight. He wants to know if you can meet him tomorrow night when he’s off instead so he can have more time to talk”, said Claudia. I told her yes and the meeting was set for tomorrow night at seven.

The next file was the case for Cecelia Adams. She believes her daughter is still dating the gold-digging-loser she’s supposed to be staying away from. She wants proof, one way or the other. This one will involve another stake-out and a lot of pointless photos of a wild teenager.

Oh joy. I wish these people would just learn to control their children and stop blaming everyone else for their shortcomings as parents.

The next case file belonged to Bruce Garrett. He owns fifty one percent of the only hardware store in town. He is accusing his business partner of stealing from the company.

He believes his business partner has recorded some less than honest tax write-offs. He’s also been over-charging some of the customers and pocketing the difference.

I looked at the clock. I still had another half hour.

“I’m gonna go get some coffee. Y’all want anything?” I asked Keith and Claudia. They both said yes.

When I got to the coffee shop, Babe was in his office and Callie was behind the counter. She looked nervous and her voice shook slightly when she asked me if I wanted my usual.

Before I had a chance to ask her if anything was wrong, Louie Porter strutted out of Babe’s office. He had a small amount of blood splattered on his dirty, white tank top t-shirt. I’m pretty sure that my heart stopped for a few seconds.

Louie’s green eyes were cold and listless. He smiled at me with a crooked smile and blew me a kiss. All I could do was stand there. I didn’t know whether to be horrified or just vividly repulsed.

As soon as he was out the door, Callie and I ran to the office to check on Babe. He was sitting on the floor, up against the wall. He was alive, but he didn’t look good. He was in and out of consciousness. Louie had roughed him up pretty badly.

“Dad! Are you okay? Talk to me!!” cried Callie. She was on the verge of becoming completely hysterical.

“You need to go to the hospital and let them report the incident to the police, but don’t name names. That thug was Louie Porter. He has strong and very recent ties to the mob. Giving the police his name will only make things worse for you around here”, I said.”

“No, I don’t want to-“

“Babe, it’s not about what you want. Right now, it’s strictly about what you need. Trust me on this”, I said. “Callie, you are too upset to drive and he’s in no shape to. I have a client coming, so I can’t go right now, but I’ll get you both there. I will not take no for an answer. You know that I am the most stubborn person that you know, so don’t bother trying to argue with me. I’ll lock up the shop for you”.

I called Keith and asked him to bring his car down to the coffee shop ASAP. When he got there, I explained what happened and helped him get Babe into his SUV. Callie climbed into the back seat with her dad and they headed for the hospital.

I locked up for them and headed back down to my office. Mr. Evans was there waiting for me. Claudia had informed him of the emergency and said I would be there shortly.

We discussed his case, in detail. I quoted him an estimation of the final price, explaining that this is only an estimate and not necessarily the final cost. He didn’t have a problem with it and gave me cash for my retainer fee.

He gave me the key to the back door of his store and the alarm code. I told him I would most likely go out there tonight or tomorrow night so that I could make sure everything was up and running before the weekend.

“Make sure you do NOT look for the cameras and don’t act like you know it’s an employee that’s ripping you off. You don’t want to raise suspicion. Just work and keep your mouth shut about the thefts. Otherwise, you might scare the thief and then we’ll never catch him or her in the act and get the proof you need”, I said.

He agreed and got up to leave. “Miss Hartman, all I can say is thank you”. I nodded and we shook hands.

After he left, I gave the file and the cash to Claudia, keeping about two grand of it for myself, additional supplies, and dinner at Mamasita’s with Jessica and my other best friend from my high school years, Wendy Woodson.

20 – Crazy about Technology

By the time we left Mamasita’s it was almost ten o’clock.

“Y’all wanna go hit a bar?” asked Wendy.

“I can’t”, I said. “I gotta go do a job tonight”. I thought about it for a second or two then asked them what they would be doing around two in the morning.

“Ohhhhhhhhhh does this mean we get to help you with another case?” asked Wendy with a smile.

“You can if you want to”, I said. I smiled and told them if they wanted to go along to make sure they dressed in dark clothing and to be at my house by one fifteen at the latest. In “Savannah terms”, that meant I was leaving at one thirty, with or without them and they knew it.

I went home and took a nap. I needed to be clear headed when I set up the cameras and microphones at Evans Electronics.

At about twelve thirty, I got up and got dressed. I got the gear together and divided it all between two back packs.

I put mine and Clyde’s keys in my jeans pocket and pulled my hair back in a ponytail. I couldn’t risk losing the alarm code, so I wrote it on my hand with a permanent ink marker.

Wendy and Jessica showed up at five after one, so we left a little earlier than I had planned. I gave Wendy the lighter of the two back packs and I took the other one. I handed Jessica the car keys and told her it was her turn to drive.

“So do I get to know where we’re going or is it going to remain a secret?” asked Jessica.

“It’s not a secret while we are still standing in my living room. I just couldn’t talk about it at the restaurant. It’s all about discretion” I replied.

I gave them the run-down of where we were going, what was going to be done and what I needed them to do.

By the time we got to the store, it was a quarter before two. The street was quiet. There were no cars or traffic. From the looks of it, there weren’t any people around either. It’s a small town, so this wasn’t all that much of a surprise.

We went in through the back entrance and locked the doors behind us. I turned off the alarm. We worked with the lights off, using small flashlights only when absolutely necessary. We all kept an eye on the doors, just in case.

We hid mini motion sensor cameras and mini sound activated microphones all over the store. I made sure that we put them in places that would not easily be seen by the thief, or anyone else for that matter.

Most of them were hidden near the doorways so whoever was removing the stock from the store would be caught red-handed, so to speak. They were being set-up to transmit any photos or sounds taken and recorded after hours directly to a program Keith had designed and set up on his computer.

I was almost done with the link set-up part when I heard the back door open. I held up my phone so the girls could see it then lowered it. They knew what I was telling them to do: hide and take pictures with your phone.

All three of us had turned off the sound and flash on our phones before we left my house.

On a previous occasion, I had given them both a mobile application that Keith had developed. It was a night vision application for our phones that would work on any mobile phone platform. It would still work, regardless of what phone company’s service we were using or where we were at the time.

This time, my gun was on my hip and my camera was at home. The thief had three other men helping him, so it was safer for us to stay hidden until they were gone, snapping pictures every time we could get a glimpse of any of them.

The thief didn’t wear gloves when he typed in the numbers to turn the alarm off. The dumbass apparently didn’t notice that the alarm was already off when he got here. He left a greasy palm print on the wall, next to the alarm. I gave the sheriff a call and told him what happened.

When the sheriff arrived, we showed him the photos that we had just taken. I told him Keith would have to finish processing them for him to be able to identify anyone from the photos, since they only showed a green tinted night vision version of the photo.

Sheriff Russell was not a fan of technology and refused to look at anything like this unless we handed him printed photos or emailed them to Jolynn so that she could print them.

I told the sheriff we were going to stay a while and finish the set-up that the owner had ordered. Nate Russell had known me since I was a teenager, so he knew I was on the level and wasn’t worried about me being in the store. Clyde Evans had paid for the full installation, after all, and I have never and will never give a refund for equipment or services rendered by Silver Leaf Investigations.

By the time I got home, it was a little after four in the morning. I called and left a message on the office phone, telling them I was taking the day off. I needed to catch up on sleep, so unless someone’s dying, they damn well better not call me and hung up.

I wanted to take a shower, but I opted for sleeping in my clothes instead. I was asleep almost as fast as my head hit the pillow. The shower was going to have to wait.