Chapter Three
Solomon was occupied with assisting Delgado’s case and I was swamped with background checks.
One day rolled into another. By the time the end of the week came around, I’d dealt with two walk-in inquiries that each went from promising to crazy within half an hour, and several equally baffling phone calls.
That was the thing with private investigative work.
People who had tried every other resource — and been turned away — resorted to us next, frustrated and convinced in their case.
The only positive thing about the inquiries was the pleasant chat with the old lady searching for her favorite spoon and the several new Bulgarian insults I’d learned at her encouragement.
When my mom called to chat around noon, I decided to pack up and go visit in person instead. Perhaps help them out with lunch… by eating it.
“Hello?” I called after letting myself into my parents’ pretty white and yellow house. It was quiet inside, only the sound of a pop song playing guided me towards the kitchen. “Mom?”
“In the yard,” she called.
I stepped out and looked around, finding my mom kneeling on a padded mat, shoveling dirt with a hand spade. “Burying a tiny body?” I asked.
“Haha, very funny. There will be no more dead bodies in this neighborhood.” Mom grabbed a plant and stuffed it into the hole she’d dug.
“Famous last words,” mumbled Dad. He was sprawled on a garden chair, a bucket hat draped over his face, arms crossed over his chest. A folded newspaper lay on the garden table next to him, along with a jug of lemonade, ice long since melted, two glass tumblers, and a bottle of sun screen.
“Did you put on any sun screen, Dad?” I asked, noticing his red ears.
“Of course!” His hand drifted over to the table, blindly patting for the bottle.
“Your father’s had a hard morning lying there,” said Mom. She waved her spade at him but since he couldn’t see past the bucket hat, he didn’t flinch.
“It’s nice to see your gardening course put to good use. The garden is looking pretty,” I said. Mom had planted several new plants and added wood chips. The fencing had been recently painted and there was a new bench under the window.
“Thank you. I start my edible garden course next week. It’s part two. I’m going to plant carrots. Or cabbages.”
“We don’t eat cabbage,” mumbled Dad.
“Peas. Lots and lots of peas,” continued Mom. “And herbs. Do you want some mint?”
“Why? What’s wrong with my breath?” I cupped my hands over my mouth and blew.
“No, mint! The plant!”
“Oh, no, thank you. I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”
“You plant it! And water it, and take care of it, then you make mint tea.”
“That sounds like a lot of effort when I could just buy teabags or go to a café.”
“Go and sit with your father.” Mom turned back to her tray of plants.
“Why aren’t you digging?” I asked my dad when I sat next to him.
He stopped rubbing sun screen into his skin and shook his head. “I offered to but she said I’d be more useful sitting over here so I got my paper and kept out of the way. Did you hear a racehorse was stolen? How do you steal a racehorse?”
“I have no idea.”
“Me neither. It’s not like you can put one in your pocket and walk out of the shop.”
“Racehorses are fast. You could ride it out of the shop and race away,” I decided. “But I’m not sure where you’d hide it.”
“There’s a hundred-thousand-dollar reward for its safe return so you might want to put your thinking cap on,” said Dad.
“A hundred thousand dollars for a horse?!”
Dad nodded. “Horses can win more than that in prize money in one race, never mind a season. It’s chicken feed, really.”
“There’s a rotisserie chicken for lunch,” called Mom.
“She needs her hearing checked,” said Dad.
“I do not,” said Mom.
“I’ll start lunch,” said Dad. “You stay here and talk to your mother. She’s been lamenting that none of you visit often enough. When you all lived here, she was cross she never got a minute to herself. I don’t know how to make her happy.”
“Of course you do. Buy her more plants.”
Dad perked up. “It’s that easy? Why did no one tell me this?
When I was young, they said give her babies and she’ll be happy, and make her life easier.
So I gave her five kids and a new vacuum cleaner for her next birthday and she didn’t speak to me for three weeks.
It was the worst time of my life. If I’d known about plants, everything would have been so much simpler.
” He wandered off into the kitchen, armed with his new information.
“I like to think he’s joking,” said Mom, turning to me, “but I’m never really sure.”
“He’s joking,” I reassured her. “He didn’t buy you a vacuum cleaner for your birthday, did he?”
“I don’t remember. I was raising five kids.
My brain was fried.” She got up and entered the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door and emerging with a rotisserie chicken, a tub of potato salad, and a bag of chopped salad.
“Slice the baguette please,” she said to me after my dad sat down at the table and seemed to forget what he went in there for.
“Okay,” I agreed. I unwrapped the baguette and sliced it into neat rounds, tossing them into a basket.
“Why aren’t you following someone around, or diving in a dumpster?” asked Mom.
“No need. This week has been paperwork and dealing with inquiries. Nothing exciting.”
“I’m sure you could drum something up if you put your mind to it.”
Jessica Casey popped into my head. Her claims had been the strangest of the week, yet also the sanest. I hadn’t heard back from her yet, which wasn’t unusual, but I thought she might appreciate another call.
At the very least, I could probe further and offer some suggestions.
If she’d rethought the incidents or didn’t return my call…
well, I’d leave it up to her. I resolved to call her before the end of the day.
We ate lunch at the garden table as my parents filled me in on their upcoming plans.
Dad had an amateur golf tournament he was looking forward to with his retired police buddies; Mom was planning to reinvigorate her book club with themed food and wine; and both of them were researching trips for a driving tour through New England and next summer to France and Italy.
“My parents are living a great life,” I told Solomon when I returned to the agency.
He was halfway to the door as I walked in, a leather organizer under his arm.
He’d swapped his usual black T-shirt for a black shirt, but drawn the line at a tie.
“We should take the doctor’s advice and plan a trip. ”
“Where would you like to go?”
“Everywhere. Anywhere.”
“Beach or city?”
“Yes.”
Solomon laughed, then asked, “Relax or adventure?”
“Relax.”
“Hot or cold?”
“Hot.”
“I’m glad we narrowed some of it down. Mexico?”
“Done.”
“That was easy.” Solomon seemed surprised.
“It’s a vacation, not a major life decision. I’m happy going anywhere so long as it’s fun and chill and no one tries to shoot us.”
“Now you’re asking a lot. We can discuss it all later. Delgado’s perp was arrested an hour ago and I’m on my way downtown to give a seminar on security, then there’s a small reception.”
“Sounds fascinating,” I lied. “So wish I was there.”
“You need to work on your lying.”
I smiled. “Will do. Dinner later?”
“I’ll try and make it. If I’m home by seven, I’ll even cook.”
“And if you’re not?”
“Then you’re on your own.”
My shoulders drooped. “I might starve.”
“Not with your parents across town, or the large stack of takeout menus in the drawer.”
“Or Lily’s Bar. Or restaurants. Or drive-throughs.” I perked up.
“It’s shocking that not once did it occur to you to cook.”
“Oh, right, cooking.” I rolled my eyes. “I can do that.”
“Enjoy your toast,” said Solomon, kissing my cheek swiftly before he headed down the stairs to the parking lot.
Little did he know, the joke would be on him if he returned to find me cooking a sumptuous feast for two.
I might even light a candle and put on some music.
If my mom decided to take another cooking class, I might even join her but until then… I was probably eating toast tonight.
I dropped into my chair and opened my laptop. I had a couple of photos to add to some case notes and then I was done. If I hadn’t left my laptop in the office I wouldn’t even have needed to return but I was glad I did, since I’d been able to steal a few seconds with Solomon.
A notification popped up for the payment Jessica Casey had made and I’d forgotten about. Of course the responsible thing to do was return it. If she didn’t answer my call, I’d leave a message to that effect.
A guilty, little knot tugged at my stomach as I reached for my phone, then I remembered I hadn’t input Jessica’s name and couldn’t be sure which number was hers.
Perhaps she hadn’t returned my call because she thought me unprofessional.
It looked like I’d kept the payment and not seriously followed up beyond that one call.
I had to clear this up. The paperwork was still in my desk drawer and I pulled it out.
The very least I could do was tell her I’d been waiting for her call, and that I was now ready to do some preliminary investigation so long as she hadn’t changed her mind.
Perhaps she had? She’d been extremely worried and I hadn’t done anything to alleviate her fears. Even worse, I might have made her feel even worse than she felt when she first arrived.
Jessica had left me two numbers. I input the first, waiting as it rang.
“Hello,” said the man that answered it, a man whose voice was all too familiar.
“Garrett?” I frowned as I tilted the phone to check the number I’d called. It was definitely Jessica’s! My brother’s name would have appeared on the screen otherwise.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my sister in the thick of things again,” said Garrett. “Guess how surprised I was when your name flashed on the screen?”
“Why are you answering my client’s phone?” I asked, a terrible feeling replacing that guilty knot.
“Who’s your client?”
“Jessica Casey. This is her number?”
“Interesting. When did Mrs. Casey hire you?”
“Around a week ago but I haven’t even started yet.
She paid a deposit but I wasn’t even sure I was going to take the case so I was calling to talk to her since she hadn’t returned my last call,” I said.
Then I sighed and added, “Actually, I dropped the ball and didn’t pursue her.
I was calling to talk to Jessica and… why didn’t Jessica answer her phone? Where is she? Is she okay?”
Garrett sighed and the tense feeling grew. Before he said the words, I knew.
“Jessica Casey got killed this morning,” he said.