What a Meth
Text copyright © 2013 Jamie Lee Scott
All Rights Reserved
LBB Company
1106 Hwy 69 N
Forest City, IA 50436
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Copyright © 2013 by Jamie Lee Scott
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All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address: LBB Company 1106 Hwy 69 N, Forest City, IA 50436
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
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All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.
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Manufactured in the United States of America
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ISBN-13: 978-1494471255
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ISBN-10: 1494471256
64
Jackie Baccarin raised both hands, arms fully extended, and fired off six rounds from her Smith & Wesson .38 Special +P. She had the one with the crimson laser. When she finished firing, she turned to me, placed her weapon on the counter in front of her and pushed a button.
Removing her ear covers, she said, “Beat that.”
As the stationary target rolled toward us, in the shooting range stall, I noticed she’d nailed it with two to the chest and one to the head. I never want to be on the other end of her gun.
“Through and through, baby, through and through.” She pumped her fist.
She pushed a strand of red hair behind her ear, and tossed her head back. Jackie was the only person I knew who looked sexy in skinny jeans and a baggy white T-shirt. Well, the leopard print pumps on her feet may have helped the sex factor.
I waited until the target was right in front of us before I commented. Upon closer inspection, she’d put two chest shots nearly in the same hole, and the head shot, excuse me, head shots, were actually in the same hole.
“Screw you. I can’t believe it,” I screeched in mock horror. “You’ve been cheating on me.”
Dressed in my go-to uniform of black T-shirt, black slacks, and black loafers (yes, I do have other colors in my closet), I was up next. I can guarantee you the men in the other stalls weren’t drooling over me, the way they did over Jackie, when I stepped up to shoot.
I pulled off the used target, put up a fresh one, and pushed the button that slid it back in shooting position.
My turn. I lifted my Beretta Cheetah 85, which was a 380 automatic, sighted (no laser, by the way) and fired. I didn’t even look in Jackie’s direction before I put the gun down. And I didn’t pull the target forward. I already knew she outshot me.
I holstered my weapon and turned to leave.
Behind me, I could hear Jackie cracking up. “Sore loser.”
I smiled, but kept walking. The bitch had been cheating on me, and she was rubbing it in. “Yeah, yeah, you’ve been sneaking around on me,” I said without turning around.
Mock hurt in her voice, she cried out, “I have not. I can’t believe you’d accuse me of that.”
Then she ran up behind me and wrapped her arm over my shoulder. “Not my fault you’ve got better things to do than come shooting with me.”
I really grinned now. I missed my best friend so much, even though we saw each other every day. But special times, like this, were few and far between. She worked for me at my private detective agency, Gotcha, but I did my thing and she did hers, and we just didn’t have the kind of girl time we used to covet.
“Time is not on our side, baby doll.” I leaned my head against hers as we walked out of the building.
A weekday lunch break with my best friend was a rare commodity these days, even though we work in the same office together. It’s even rarer when we have enough leftovers to enjoy lunch at my house or hers.
Sitting at my kitchen table, our guns disassembled, cleaned and oiled, I said, “Even though you kicked my ass, that was so fun.” I placed the last piece of my gun on a towel.
“Well, you have other things in your life at the moment.” She stuffed a slice of cheese in her mouth. Still chewing, she said, “Speaking of other things, did you talk to Nick about what you saw?”
Between us on the table was a buffet of cheese, deli meats, grapes, avocado, and egg salad sandwiches. I wasn’t sure eating while cleaning guns was sanitary, but we didn’t care. The only thing we cared about was proper safety precautions, which we followed.
I shook my head. “Too soon.”
“It’s been months. How is that too soon?”
“It was a one time thing. I was tired. It could have been a mirage.” I chugged the last of the water in my bottle and tossed it into the garbage. Okay, I tossed it at the garbage can, and it hit the rim and rolled across the kitchen floor, landing near Lola’s feet.
Lola had her head resting on Jackie’s lap as we sat at my kitchen table. Drool dripped out the sides of Lola’s lips as she waited patiently for Jackie to drop even a crumb.
“You realized I’m going to have to go home now and change my pants before I go back to work?” She was talking to Lola, not me.
I stuffed another bite of egg salad sandwich in my mouth, only the egg salad wasn’t really a sandwich. I had a huge bowl of chopped hard boiled eggs, mixed with mayo, pickle relish, and a hint of Dijon mustard that I kept in the refrigerator, and I just took a large leaf of butter lettuce, slathered on the egg salad, and rolled it up like a burrito. It was delicious, even without the bread. I’d sworn off bread for almost two weeks, and I still missed it. A lot!
“Only ten more pounds to go, then sourdough it is.” I swooned at the thought.
“Why is it you want to lose weight?” Jackie, a former chunkster who was now as fit and tight as a body builder, asked.
“What if it was him?” I pinched the excess at my middle. “I’ve gained at least twenty pounds since that day.”
I was talking about the day my husband Dominic died. Though there was a terrible plane crash, his body was never found and right after it happened, I refused to believe he was dead. I didn’t get much closure or sympathy from Dominic’s family over the matter, as they had completely cut ties with me after I refused to give up the Victorian in which Gotcha Detective Agency resides. Just when I’d finally moved on with my life, I swear I saw him. It was like that weird moment when you see movement out of the corner of your eye, and when you look, there’s nothing there.
“It’s like you’re keeping The Sighting a secret.”
It had become known as “The Sighting” after I confessed to Charles about what I saw. I’d been with Nick Christianson, my boyfriend (though I never dared say that word aloud), when I had the Dominic sighting. I’d just woken from sleeping in the car, and there was Dominic, sitting in a car in the next lane over.
I’d tried to see what kind of car he was in, and strained to get a license plate number, but it was getting dark and my wits weren’t exactly about me. But, I know it wasn’t him. If he was alive, and in Salinas, why hadn’t he contacted me? It made my stomach churn. If it had been him, he’d have tried to call me, I knew it.
Not a day had gone by that I hadn’t lived that moment over and over. I should have had Nick chase the car down. He had a police light he could put on his dashboard, and we could have followed that car. Was it Dominic? I had no idea, and as much as I wanted my husband to be alive, this wasn’t how I wanted it to go down.
“It was probably just a crazy dream.” I shoved a mouthful of egg salad in my mouth to hopefully put an end to the conversation.
“If you really don’t think it was Dominic, why are you dieting?” Jackie pointed at me, as I chewed the butter lett
uce and egg mixture.
I chewed the eggs, even though they were ready to swallow, just to make Jackie wait for an answer. Then I thought about the real reason and nearly choked on what I was trying to swallow.
I coughed, and choked, and my eyes watered.
Jackie jumped up to help. “Are you okay?”
I put my hand up to tell her I was fine. I was laughing, crying, and choking, all at the same time. Then, once the coughing was finished, I started sneezing. Is it just me, or does everyone sneeze after a choking fit?
I cleared my throat, which was now a tad sore. “I’m embarrassed to tell you why.”
“You embarrassed to tell me something? There’s a first.” Jackie walked over to the sink and grabbed a towel, turned on the water, and soaked it.
“I saw my butt when Nick and I were doing it,” I said.
Jackie burst out laughing. She rung out the towel and started dabbing at the slobber stain Lola had left on her thigh.
“It’s not funny,” I said, a bit defensive.
Jackie, still laughing, nodded. “Oh, yes it is. Where the hell were you when you were looking at your ass?”
“Nick has a mirror over the dresser in his guest bedroom. The dresser is next to the bed, and I happened to look to the side as I was…anyway, I saw myself in the mirror.”
Jackie tossed the towel she’d used in the laundry room and said, “Then obviously he can see it, too, and he hasn’t said anything about you needing to lose a pound or two, has he?”
I rolled my eyes. “The thing is I’ve been avoiding intimate moments since we got back from San Francisco. Not all intimate moments, I mean a girl has needs.”
Jackie stopped wiping drool from her jeans. “What? Why?”
I stood and put my dishes in the dishwasher. “The Sighting.”
I walked back to the table and grabbed her dishes. I didn’t want to look her in the eye. I was embarrassed by my hope.
“Baby, you need to get laid! And soon.”
“I suddenly feel like I’m cheating on Dominic.” I stacked the rest of the dishes in the dishwasher as Lola tried desperately to get around me to lick the remnants before I closed the door.
“You have got to be kidding me.” She grabbed me by the shoulders and made me face her. “If you don’t start taking care of the man who worships you, he’s going to start looking elsewhere, and you’ll deserve it.”
I looked her in the eyes. “I know.”
“Then what the hell are you doing? Honey, that man loves you. And he’s here. He’s not going to leave you.”
“He will if he finds out Dominic is still alive.” I felt my voice crack.
“Until you can prove one way or the other, forget you ever had The Sighting, and love the one you’re with.”
Jackie shook her head as we walked out of the kitchen into the yard. “And you need to tell Nick.”
I didn’t say anything, just followed behind her, with Lola following me.
“Your ass looks just fine. But if you want to go for a run later today, I’m up for it.”
“Only if you promise not to lecture me.”
She turned back to face me. “Let Dominic go.”
Trying to lighten the mood, I said, “Besides, if that was really Dominic, I want him to be drooling when he sees me. I want him begging to get me back.”
“He’s your husband; he already has you.” She pointed out.
Enough Dominic talk already. “What about Willis?”
Willis Grant was the first man Jackie had dated since her marriage had ended. He was tall, lean, completely bald (he shaved it bald), and had a penchant for wearing shorts. If my legs looked like Lance Armstrong’s (which his did), I’d show them off, too.
“Willis isn’t a health nut or gym rat, he’s a cyclist. When you bike as many miles as he does each week, you have to stuff your face just to keep weight on.”
“That’s not what I meant. What does he think of fat women?”
I opened the back door of Jackie’s Toyota and let Lola in, then got in on the passenger side. Jackie was already buckling her seat belt.
“He thinks large women are attractive enough.” Her answer was evasive. “Besides, what does it matter now? We’re done.”
“I don’t believe that for a second.”
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We’d pretty much dropped the discussion on the way back to the office, since one of Jackie’s twins had called, begging to have a sleepover on a school night.
By the time we got out of the car, Jackie’s color had gone from normal to crimson. Trying to keep your temper can do that. “Does it ever start to get better? This parenting stuff sucks. I hate being the bad guy, but I refuse to be the bad parent.”
I put my arm around her waist as we walked to the office. “You’re doing a fabulous job. Your kids are great, and everyone I know comments on how polite and well spoken they are.”
Jackie swelled with pride and the flush faded to a redder shade of normal.
“Besides, it’s not your job to be their best friend. It’s your job to be a responsible parent.”
She’d parked at the front of the office, so we entered through the front doors. Holding the door open, for us, she patted Lola on the butt as she entered, and then did the same to me. “Nice ass.”
As I walked in, Cortnie Criss stood from the reception desk. She looked off to her left, as if trying to signal me. But before I could ask what was going on, a woman came into view.
“Mimi, this is Alyssa King. She’s here to talk to you.” Cortnie seemed more than a smidgen uncomfortable.
I looked at the woman who was obviously dressed in her Sunday best. The leather on her sandals was badly scuffed, and her legs were so tan her skin matched the leather of her shoes. And boy were there legs, all the way up to the cutoff denim mini skirt that barely covered her butt cheeks. When she turned slightly, I could see stretch mark patterns from the curve of her butt to the lower end of her calves. The strappy shirt she wore barely covered the navy tube top beneath it. Her wardrobe screamed garage sale specials.
“I’m sorry, did we have an appointment?” I could see Cortnie out of the corner of my eye, shaking her head as I asked the question.
“Hi, Ms. Capurro, I’m sorry I don’t have an appointment. I’m desperate, and I need help. You were the first private detective I found in the Yellow Pages.”
When she spoke, she tended to put her hand in front of her mouth, to cover the fact that most of her teeth were missing. The teeth, her inability to stand completely still, and the boniness of her frame gave me pause. I felt like she’d break if I told her to make an appointment and come back some other time.
I turned to Cortnie. “Can we push the staff meeting back about thirty minutes?”
Cortnie, still standing, nodded.
Jackie broke the trance. “Okay, I’ll go make coffee, since the staff meeting will probably be a snoozer and we’ll need all the reinforcements we can get to stay awake.” She trotted off in the direction of the kitchen, Lola following close behind.
Alyssa followed me to my office. I pointed to the chair and she sat obediently as I went around to my side of the desk.
“So what exactly is so urgent that you couldn’t make an appointment for a later date?” I tried not to sound miffed.
She bobbed her leg up and down at an alarming rate, and constantly looked over her shoulder.
“I didn’t know I needed an appointment until I got here.” She played with the hem of her skirt.
As her eyes darted all around the room, I noticed one hand kept coming up to her hair, wanting to twist it in her fingers, then she’d catch herself and put her hand back in her lap. When she spoke, she tried very hard not to show her teeth, or lack thereof.
“Well, you’re here, so what is it you need?” I smiled, trying to be more patient.
She looked around, as if someone was spying on us, and said, “My Jeff is cheatin’.”
It took every ounce of energy I had to not roll
my eyes. “Did Cortnie tell you what our fees are while you were waiting?”
“Please, just listen. This is why I gots to see you today.” She paused.
I waited and leaned forward, putting my elbows on the desk, trying to look interested in her story, the one she couldn’t afford me for.
“I been noticing a pattern with Jeff. On Thursday when I walked our girls to school, I seen him leave the house earlier than usual. He goes down the street in the other direction and around the corner. His old girlfriend lives on that street.”
I listened.
“He’s cheatin’. I got three kids, ain’t got no job, and he’s cheatin’ on me.” She started to cry, I mean really sob.
I looked closely at her as I started to pull a tissue from my drawer. I stood and leaned over my desk to hand it to her.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think you came to the right place. We’re very expensive.”
She jumped up so fast I was knocked off balance as I backed away. “Look.” She pulled wads of money from her small purse. “I got five hundred dollars. What’ll that buy me?”
She wore garage sale clothes, tweaked like a junkie, and was throwing, literally throwing, five hundred dollars at me. This didn’t add up.
I pushed the twenties into a pile in the middle of my desk and started to stack them. “It’ll get you half a day, but you can’t afford this.”
What the hell was I thinking? I couldn’t afford to turn away money. But she couldn’t afford to be paying me.
She shoved the money at me with force. “Take it. If I had more, I’d pay just to be done with it, to be sure.”
“Why can’t you just follow him yourself?” This whole situation had me on the ropes.
“Because he done it before and he lies his way out of it. He tells my parents and his I’m crazy. I’m not crazy. I need proof, so I can tell his parents I’m not crazy and they’ll believe me.” She dropped down into the chair, seemingly exhausted and twirled her long auburn hair with her fingers.
Gotcha Detective Agency Mystery Box Set Page 50
