“You went out again?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Where’d you go?”
“To a strip club. Only thing that’s open at that time.”
“You met a stripper? Hope you checked your credit cards.”
“Nay, Candice isn’t like that. I did give her a little scratch—to tide her over.”
“Mike,” I admonished.
“I know, I know. Hey, you remember that I went back into Shotsky’s after those two buffoons tried to start a fight about the wages of sin?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you want to know what for?”
“I am curious.”
“Well, I went to ask the bartender who the two guys were. Luckily, they frequented Shotsky’s a lot, so she knew their names. So after I did a search on you, I ran one on them. Found out that one has unpaid parking tickets and that the other is behind on his alimony. Anyway, traffic court and Mr. Tough Guy’s ex-wife can look no further than the addresses I supplied to them.”
“You found their addresses?”
“Sure did. If you know where to look, you can find anything about anyone.”
“Pretty good for an importer/exporter.”
“Yeah, isn’t it,” she said, touching the corner of one eye.
“See you at the gym tonight?” I queried, pouring a second cup of coffee.
“Sure. Gotta work on this bod for the ladies. But promise, no more scary stories. I don’t do well with ghosts.”
“Evidently, neither do I.”
CHAPTER 5
I returned home from my workout. I’d out pressed Mike in bench lifts. She hated that more than anything, so I rubbed it in partially to pay her back for outperforming me in the sexual arena. I was kind, though, deciding to the let the remaining balance slide. I was too distracted by poltergeists to concentrate on revenge.
I pulled into the driveway, departing from my trusty Jeep. Wouldn’t travel any other way, and if the apocalypse came, I was ready. I thought I’d been joking about that last part, but a piercing scream seemed to harken that a zombie invasion had begun. Identifying it as coming from Marge Danvers’ backyard, I dropped my duffel bag and ran for all I was worth.
“What the hell?” I queried as I approached the bathrobed, older woman with the dog in her arms. I had to admit that Moochie looked exactly like an old dust mop my mother used to have.
“Moochie! My baby’s been poisoned!” she shouted. Semi-hysterical, I tried to pump her for more information.
“How do you know that, Mrs. Danvers?”
“Because of the food on the ground that I didn’t give him, Einstein!” she fired back. Bending down, I saw some scraps of meat. It was hard to see any more than that, what with the dim light.
“Someone left it here?”
“Obviously! Something woke him up again. He was barking and making a racket, so I thought he had to pee. But when he got out, the same thing happened. He made a beeline to a spot near those bushes, but this time there wasn’t a commotion. I wandered out, afraid that someone was out there, when I heard this noise he makes when he eats. I ran over to him and he was chowing down on this disgusting mess, so I stopped him. Right after I did, he started foaming at the mouth. Look, he threw up, but then he collapsed. I screamed and, oh, I’m wasting my breath talking to you! Outta my way, Mr. Savage! I’ve got to get him to the hospital!”
Before she could move, I heard the crackle of branches being pushed back. Someone had been watching—and probably listening. Someone that was running into my yard.
I took off after him. It was the figure that Marge had described. Because of his dark clothing, I could barely make him out against the fringe of trees that bordered my property line. Fuck me for not leaving my outdoor lights on.
Before I realized it, he cut back. He was headed for the street. Fooled and bamboozled, I kicked it into a higher gear. It was only because I’d been working out on a treadmill that I’d gotten this far. Winded and cursing myself for getting so out of shape, I saw him disappear in between two houses. I half-heartedly made my way to where I thought he’d gone, when the sound of an engine let me know he’d made his getaway. Marge’s car fired up next. Moochie was going to get the help that he needed.
Scooping up my satchel, I went inside. Huffing like an old carp, I drank some water and was about to go upstairs. The headlights in my driveway made me rethink my plans. I opened the front door as Mike exited her car.
“Hey, Savage,” she said as she passed by, patting me on my chest. She didn’t stop until she’d hit the couch. Falling backwards, she tossed back her head giving out a moan. “Why do things have to be so complicated? Why?”
Taking a seat across from her, I dug in.
“What happened? Another fight at Shotsky’s?”
“Nope. Just disappointment in love. Candice has broken my heart, Savage. I might not be able to go on.” Opening her half-closed lids, she finally got her first gander of me. “Why are you so sweaty?”
For an importer/exporter, she certainly was observant. Yes, I’d taken a shower before leaving Wild’s, but how many people would have noticed I was no longer pristine?
“Importer/exporters don’t usually notice that kind of minutiae,” I explored.
“Yeah, well, I might have done it again.”
“Done what again?”
A wry smile appeared on Mike’s full lips.
“Lied. I didn’t realize you were a cop at the time—”
“Ex-cop.”
“Cop,” she reiterated, smirking even wider. “I’m a private dick, not that you haven’t already guessed. Now why the BO?”
Giving myself a sniff under my arms, it was all good.
“Marge Danvers, my next door neighbor, came over this morning. Told me her dog had taken a chunk out of prowler last night.”
“And?”
“And she wanted to hire me to find out who was bitten. She’d seen this dark van parked in the neighborhood and thought that the two were connected.”
“Interesting. I hope you took the money.”
“Nope.”
“Duhff!” she exclaimed, hitting herself in her forehead.
“If you’re done,” I said, pausing. With no more smart remarks forthcoming, I continued. “Anyway, when I returned home from the gym, I heard this scream. It sounded like it came from her backyard, so that’s where I went. Found Marge holding her dog—the one that bit said prowler. Turns out, someone poisoned him—someone that was listening to every word we said. He took off and I took off after him, but I lost him.”
“You think it was revenge? For biting him? Seems slightly psycho to me, but then I don’t sneak around in other people’s backyards after midnight.”
“Could be revenge, but then it could be a lot of other things.”
“I told you that you were a cop.”
I chuckled; she had me.
“What about you?” I asked. “Ready to tell me what happened? I mean, what really happened?”
“I suppose I deserve that. It’s just I get used to lying. Kinda goes with the line of work I’m in. You see, I’m in Creston on a case.”
“Really?”
“Yup, really. A concerned Beverly Hills wife is wondering what her husband is really doing visiting Philadelphia. He’s a location scout for movies, and yes, he was legitimately here doing his job, but the movie’s been shelved and he keeps returning. She thinks he’s having an affair.”
“And is he?”
“Yes, and it could be with Candice.”
“Ouch.” It was the only thing I could think of to say. I’d been there and done that.
“Yup. It’s why I started going to Glitter Girls, but I never expected to fall for her, Savage.”
“Are you sure, I mean, about the affair? As for the feelings, isn’t it better to know before you get in too deep?”
Rubbing her hair, she slicked it back. Her torso coming forward, she
rested her elbows on her legs.
”I am already, Savage. And, no, I’m not sure. You see, there are a few other women that visit his room at Creston Arms Hotel.”
“And Candice is one of them,” I filled in.
“Yes, but she just started showing up. I’m not sure who’s doing what to whom, so I just keep clicking away. But, and this is a big but, she was upset this evening. She showed up a little early at the hotel this afternoon and saw one of the other chicks leaving.”
“That’s why it’s important to be on time. What did she say?”
“That he’s a producer and that he’s auditioning other girls for this part in an upcoming film. She wasn’t sure whether to put it down to that, but I can’t tell her that he’s not a producer and that he is schtupping the two o’clock ho.”
“You know that?”
“I do now and I’ve got the pictures to prove it. Rented an apartment that looks right into this guy’s bedroom.”
Windows again. They were the devil’s work, no doubt.
“Yeah, that’s awkward. You wouldn’t know all that unless you were following him.”
“Exactly. And then I’d have to admit that I’m not the modeling agent I’m pretending to be. I gave her a card and everything.”
Candice must have had some bad karma. Seemed everyone was lying to her.
“What are you going to do?” I queried.
“Watch his room like a hawk, document everything, and keep my mouth shut.” The tension backed off. Her body went to being loosy goosy and ready for anything. “Hey, thanks, Savage,” she said, reaching forward and shaking my hand.
“For what?”
“For helping me. Now I’ll help you by telling you three things. One: Take the damn job. Private dicking pays a hell of a lot more than you’d earn at a regular job. Two: a dark van barreled past me when I was driving here. Turned onto Spring.”
“That’s a couple of streets over,” I said, mulling over that tidbit. “And what’s the third?”
“That perfume’s back.”
CHAPTER 6
With two cups of coffee under my belt and a night of thinking things over, I sauntered over to my neighbor’s—a guilty conscience leading the way.
“You!” Marge shot accusingly.
Her tone made me feel like denying it was me darkening her doorstep.
“How’s Mooch?”
“Alive, no thanks to you.”
Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?” I queried, letting my charm kick in.
“No.”
Well, I did ask. The door was only open enough to allow her to squeeze her face in the narrow vertical space. The penciled brows didn’t do a thing for me, but one look in her intelligent eyes told me that it hadn’t been appearance alone that once had suitors lined up around the block. Marge Danvers must have been something else.
“I’ve decided to take you up on your offer,” I ventured.
She chose to remain an open book, not even bothering to hide her surprise. Her hazel eyes widened, a bit of white showing all the way around. The door was suddenly ajar. A shaky Mooch appeared behind her loafered feet. The dog exhibited none of its usual friendliness. Instead, he eyed me suspiciously. Do dogs hold grudges? I’d soon find out.
I entered her lair. I’d never seen the inside. The closest I’d come was peeking through the slats of her vertical blinds. The only thing I’d noticed was a lot of pink. A little of that color goes a long way.
The furnishings were entirely appropriate for a Miami Beach retirement home, but I saved whatever opinions I had for when I became an expert on design. I was no one to talk. Before Ruthie entered my life, my place was a giant man cave replete with shag carpeting straight out of the 70s. It was my idea of luxury.
I sat at the edge of a white sofa, wondering how the hell she kept it clean. A clump of Mooch’s black fur in the corner told me it was due to constant maintenance.
“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses. That bad man might try again. Right, baby?” Marge cooed.
On cue, the little dog jumped onto my lap. How do they know? I scratched him behind his right ear.
“I’m not sure about that, but better safe than sorry.”
“Oh, there’ll be a next time. I should have known that you’d change your mind. One thing a policeman loves is a mystery.”
“I’m not a …”
“I know what you are. As I said, I was in banking—a loan mortgager, to be exact. I learned to read people like a book. I could tell when they were lying, and I could read numbers, but sometimes, I lent the money even when someone couldn’t afford the property.”
“And why is that?”
“Because they could have afforded it if they wanted it badly enough. That’s what America is all about. Going after things and making a success of yourself. However, drive is one thing you can’t tell. So I took my calculated risks to all differing results. Some worked their butts off and enjoyed their new homes for as long as they wanted. Others failed, but nobody could say I didn’t give them the opportunity to try.”
I was learning a lot about Marge. Moochie, too. He liked belly rubs.
“Have you thought about pricing?” she asked.
I hadn’t. Why didn’t I find that out from Mike?
“Well, I took care of it,” she gloated. Marge liked being right—a little too much, if you asked me. “The going rate for private detectives in this area is fifty an hour. I’ll give you five hundred to start. Ten hours should be enough to find out something, don’t you think?”
“I do,” I said as I kept up the nail stroking of her dog.
“I do too. I’ll expect you to report anything you find and, at the end of the ten hours, I’ll decide whether to extend this investigation. Fair?”
“Very.”
She stood. I tried to follow suit, but I had a lapful of cozy animal. She solved the problem by scooping Moochie up into her arms.
“Good,” she stated as she walked to her purse. Wasting no time, she wrote me out a check that I was sure was good.
“Say, did you take Mooch out yet?”
“No. We got up a little late.”
“Good. I’d like to borrow him for a few days.”
“Why on earth?” she gasped. You’d have thought I was asking her to cut off an arm.
“Because if this wasn’t revenge, then this guy wants the dog out of the picture. If he thinks Mooch is kaput, then I can find out why the hell he’s skulking around your backyard.”
“I do see, but you don’t think he’s after an old lady like me?”
“Could be, but I doubt it. He wasn’t close to the house, but we’ll see. And don’t worry. I’ll make sure nothing happens to you. In the meantime, make sure your doors are locked and your curtains are shut.”
“Will do,” she replied as she deposited Moochie back into my waiting arms.
CHAPTER 7
I spent the day making Mooch happy. Taking him for frequent walks, I centered them around Spring Street. I needed an excuse to be in the neighborhood and taking a dog out for a constitutional was perfect. I didn’t find what I was after, but it was my first day. You gotta be reasonable.
I also visited a pet supply company. I bought a leash and a few chew toys, and presented them to Marge. She made a grand spectacle of throwing them out in the trashcans placed at the curb. While she dabbed at her eyes, I hoped the prowler was that stupid. No pet owner that’s emotionally attached to their dog cavalierly gets rid of their pet’s belongings the day after said pet is poisoned, but in life, staging beats smarts. And if done right, you override common sense and believe what you want, and there was no doubt that this character wanted Mooch dead.
Of course, Marge came over fifteen or twenty times. Talk about separation anxiety, but I didn’t put a damper on the annoying visits. The only way she’d reassure herself that I didn’t have Mooch in the oven with an apple in his mouth was by seeing that I had the
four-legged furball’s best interests at heart.
When evening came, I kept the lights in the living room low and got out my binoculars for later. I was going to have to get ones for night vision, but for now, this would do. Around 8:00, I headed to the gym. I was a couple hours early, but I wanted to be home by 10:00. I didn’t want to miss any of the action.
Sure enough, I made it home by 10:10. Mooch got off the couch to greet me and, for some reason, it felt good. I wasn’t into these miniature breeds, but this little guy was all right. I took him out for a nightly constitutional. When I returned, I made myself a snack before turning on the TV and curling up next to Mooch. Mooch was named correctly. He eyed every mouthful I took, so I parceled out snacks from a box of doggie treats that Marge said were his favorite.
The movie was good, but the next one wasn’t. I surfed for a paid offering, but couldn’t find anything that pushed my buttons, so I watched the marginally bad one anyway. Mooch was passed out and sawing z’s, but I earned that fifty bucks an hour by getting up and peering through the slit in the curtains with my trusty binoculars. Nothing was doing. Around 1:00, I found myself getting sleepy. Since I planned on actually getting up early in the morning, I was having a hard time playing night owl. I had no sooner given in to sleep, than Mooch’s barking woke me up.
Taking a moment to get my bearings, I soon realized that someone was walking up to my door. A soft knock assured me that my perception was accurate. Thank God the stupor caused by the slip into Sleepy Town was temporary.
“Hey, Mike,” I welcomed while Mooch yipped and pranced around like his feet were touching hot coals.
“What the hell? Couldn’t you have bought a whole dog?”
“He’s not mine. He’s ….”
“Oh, he’s the neighbor’s. But why is he here?”
“Because if it’s not revenge, then the guy wants him out of the way. I ask, why would he want that? Answer: Because he wants to be in Marge’s backyard.”
“And why would that be? Why not your yard? It’s right next door to Marge’s, and you don’t have … correction, you didn’t have a dog.”
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