by B A Trimmer
~~~~
“Hey Sophie,” I said.
“Hey girlfriend, how’s it going with the Paul Marston assignment? You get the money shot yet? Lenny’s already bugged me about it twice this morning.”
“No, I ended up watching naked butts running in front of windows for an hour, but didn’t get anything usable. I think tonight I’ll change to video.”
“Good idea. Hey, cool necklace, is it new?”
“Thanks, I picked it up from the jeweler yesterday. What’s the new assignment? Hopefully it’s something good, I’m beyond broke.”
“Don’t know. Lenny dropped a folder on my desk when he first got in. He said to give it to you when you got in.”
Sophie shuffled through a pile of folders on her desk. Suddenly, her head shot up. Her eyes were fixed on the necklace.
“Holy crap on a cupcake!” she said. “Is that what I think it is?”
“What?”
“Don’t give me that what shit. That’s one of those big sparkly diamonds, isn’t it?”
“Yup,” I said, fingering the necklace.
What had caused Sophie’s excitement was the diamond dangling from the gold chain around my neck. I had gotten it as a result of helping out some people in an assignment a couple of months back. Unfortunately, the diamond hadn’t exactly come into the country legally and there was a strong possibility the police might think it was evidence in a case they were currently working.
“You know,” Sophie said. “You could sell it and buy a damn fine car, maybe even a house down in Tempe or Mesa.”
“I can’t sell it and actually I shouldn’t even be wearing it. According to Reno, the police have information a shipment of large high quality diamonds have come into the country. Their informant told them the diamonds are headed to Scottsdale. They’ll be on the lookout for anyone selling one, probably for the next two or three years.”
When he’s not starring in my dreams, Jackson Reno works as an undercover cop for the city of Scottsdale. He’s been in and out of my life for almost a year and a half. Currently, he’s back to being in. Reno doesn’t seem to fully realize this yet but I’m sure he’ll come around sometime soon.
“The cops just heard about the diamonds?” Sophie asked. “Guess they need to hire better informants. So now you’re jewelry rich and cash poor, huh? It’s a damn shame you can’t sell it but it does make a nice necklace. Does Reno know anything about your shiny new bobble?”
“Yeah, I told him it was a fake diamond Gina got for me the last time she was in Vegas.”
“Did he buy it?”
“It’s sometimes sort of hard to read Reno. But I think he knows me well enough not to ask too many questions.”
“Damn good trait in a man. So what’s up with him? It’s been like two months since you two supposedly got back together. For him being your new boyfriend, you two don’t seem to see a lot of each other. Is he still kinda spooked about the idea of being with you again?”
“I’m not sure. We seem to be stuck at seeing each other about once a week. Sometimes it’s just for dinner.”
“That doesn’t seem like he’s actually back to being your boyfriend. What’s the problem?”
“Our schedules never seem to match up. He works days and I keep working nights on the cheating spouse patrol. Plus, he’s been working a lot of undercover and surveillance assignments, which always seem to chew up our weekends.”
From the look on her face, I could see Sophie was unimpressed with my explanation. Truth was I was unimpressed with it too. Even after we had spent an amazing night together, about two months ago, Reno still hadn’t warmed up to me in the way I had been hoping. We still see each other but I can constantly feel the distance between us. I’ve told myself I’ll bring up the subject and push him one way or the other but the timing never seems to be right. When we’re together, I don’t want to cause a fight.
“How are you in bed?” Sophie asked, a look of concern was suddenly on her face. “A lot of guys judge a woman by that, you know. Are you good enough to keep his interest up? Does he view your sexual style as both adventurous and playful? I read an article on Yahoo saying a woman’s sexual style should be both adventurous and playful to make her man happy. For most guys, playful usually means blow jobs and adventitious means sex in parking lots. For me, being playful is more about him taking me shopping two or three times before anything good happens.”
“Oh, that’s so not true,” I said. “You’ve gone to bed with plenty of guys on the second date or even the first date.”
“Well, sometimes. But only if it feels like true love. If it’s true love, I sorta can’t help myself.”
“True love? More like if he’s bought you a couple of drinks.”
“It’s not my fault drinking makes me horny. I like men, what can I say?”
“Folder?” I said, holding out my hand.
“Actually, I’m surprised you’ve even gotten this far with Reno. I didn’t think he’d ever want to see you again after what you did to him the first time.”
“Hey, you know most of that wasn’t my fault. Do you have the folder or not?”
“Well, what about that mafia guy, Maximillian?” I know he has the hots for you. Milo says he talks about you all the time. I bet a few dates with Max could make the waiting for Reno to come around a little less painful.”
“Milo? I thought you dropped him.”
“Well, I did. But, I’ve sort of picked him up again. His underworld ranking is only henchman, not lieutenant, like yours, but he’ll do for the moment. You know what I’m thinking? You and Maximillian could double date with Milo and me. We’re going to the Rhythm Room on Friday. It’d be fun to all go together.”
“Aren’t you forgetting I’m already dating a cop and Max is an underworld crime figure?”
“Well, yes, but no man’s perfect. Besides, you’re only kind of dating a cop. The way I see it, Maximillian may be a crime lord in training but he has a great smile and the nicest butt. Looking at it reminds me a little of Ashton Kutcher’s butt.”
“Ashton Kutcher? What happened to Jon Bon Jovi?” I asked. “I thought he had your ideal butt.”
“Well sure, Bon Jovi has the best classic ass, but the other night I was watching an old Two-and-a-Half Men episode. You know, it’s the first time I got a peak at Ashton Kutcher’s butt. It was network so I didn’t get a good peak. But now I’m thinking about watching some of his old movies. Tonight, I’ll look on Netflix and see if he’s in any rated R. Maybe I’ll get a better look at it.”
“Folder?” I said, and again held out my hand.
Sophie found the folder and handed it to me.
I took the file back to my desk, flipping through it as I walked. I looked it over for about five minutes then walked back up to Sophie’s desk.
“Are you sure this is a real assignment? This looks like a missing person. Shouldn’t this go to the police or at least a private investigator, like a real one? Besides, if we really are doing this, Gina usually gets the missing person cases. She has the actual training on missing persons.”
Gina was Gina Rondinelli. She works as the firm’s senior investigator and has been my mentor since I started here. As an investigator, she’s a combination of Sherlock Holmes and Wonder Woman. Before working for Lenny, Gina worked with Reno as a detective for the Scottsdale police. One of Lenny’s former partners once implied he would make it worth her while if she would change her testimony in an embezzlement case. When she turned the bribe down and threatened to arrest the guy, Lenny was amazed. He’d never seen anyone so honest. After the case was over, he hired her for twice what she made with the department. Gina knows Lenny is slime, of course. But she says this way she still gets to be an investigator and she gets to keep a close eye on Lenny.
“I don’t know,” Sophie said. “Lenny dropped the folder off and said to give it to you. You should ask him. Maybe he thinks you’re getting better at missing persons.”
I looked over and saw
the door to Lenny’s office was closed.
“Client?” I asked.
“He’s interviewing a candidate,” Sophie said.
“A candidate for what? Is he trying to hire an intern again? The last one was a disaster.”
“Nope. Lenny had me put an ad on the internet. He’s been getting resumes in for a week. He said with the workload, he‘d need me full-time on the paralegal side. He’s getting someone new in to handle the admin. He has this interview now and another one scheduled for this afternoon.”
“Well, he’s right. You do need someone to help. Work’s been nuts lately. Does she seem nice?”
“Didn’t get much of a chance to talk to her, she seems a bit timid. Dresses OK, but a little on the boney side. She’s also kind of pale for someone who lives in Arizona, if you ask me. But she does have a degree in criminal justice.”
“A degree? Lenny wants a degree for an admin?” I asked. “You do that part in your sleep.”
“Lenny had me put in a bunch of qualifications. I think it’s just his way of getting somebody good on the cheap.”
“How long’s she been in there?”
Sophie looked at her watch.
“About twenty minutes. She must be made of some pretty strong stuff. Lenny always has a way of showing his worst side when he’s interviewing.”
“You mean the Simon Cowell crossed with Lord Voldemort side?”
“That’s the one.”
The door to Lenny’s office was flung open and a nicely dressed woman in her mid-twenties stepped out. She had on a red pants suit, a cream blouse, and matching red flats. Unfortunately, her face was also red and she didn’t look happy. She marched to the door to the street, wrenched the door open, and stomped out into the street.
“Huh, guess I was wrong,” Sophie said.
I walked into Lenny’s office. He was sitting behind his desk, writing on a yellow legal pad. He looked up as I came in.
Physically, Lenny is short and looks sort of like the actor Danny DeVito back when he played the Penguin in Batman Returns. His hairline has started to recede and he’s starting to get a little pudgy. He has poor interpersonal skills and he’s usually in a bad mood. The only time I’ve seen him smile is when he gets a wealthy new client or when he’s gets a big settlement check.
He was married once but the divorce was several years ago. Lenny doesn’t seem to have much of an outward interest in women. He doesn’t date and, with the exception of always trying to look down Sophie’s top, he’s never shown the slightest interest in any of us. Gina says unless it’s in a strictly business setting, Lenny is painfully shy around women.
“Interviewing for a new admin?” I asked.
“Yeah, but she wasn’t qualified.”
“Don’t you think you’ll get in trouble upsetting people like that?”
“Hey, I know employment law. I never ask anything out of bounds. If they infer something, that’s not my problem. I want someone good who won’t get pissed-off every time I try to talk with them. I’ve been told I have a difficult personality so it’s probably best they get a sense of my style before they start to work here.”
“Don’t you think you’ll get a reputation as being a little, ummm, aggressive?”
Lenny just looked at me with a vacant and slightly confused expression on his face. I could see him working the concept around in his mind but nothing was registering.
“I need to talk to you about this,” I said as I dropped the folder on his desk. Lenny’s eyes came back into focus as he opened the folder.
“Yeah, this one. What’s the problem? I thought you’d like this. It’s your chance to do a good deed. I know how much you like to save the world and this one should be straightforward. Besides, it’ll be a nice break between doing the next cheating spouse stake-out.”
“It’s a missing person,” I said. “We don’t do missing persons. Shouldn’t we hand this over to the police or at least a real private investigator, like Magnum, P.I., or somebody?”
“The client is Terry Lennox. He can afford what I’m going to charge him. He’s only a singer in a local band but his father is a wealthy Scottsdale developer and an old friend of mine. His dad set him up with a trust fund the size of Camelback Mountain about five years ago. Howard and I worked together a few times over the years and I owe him one. This will help me clean the slate. Go on over to Terry’s house and he’ll fill you in on the details. Did you get the pictures of Paul Marston yet?”
“I’m working on it. I’ve run into a dog problem.”
“So, you’ve met Buddy?”
“Buddy? He looked more like a Cujo. Why didn’t you tell me he had a dog? He’s huge and he drools. I could have been eaten.”
“According to Mrs. Marston, he usually keeps the dog in the house. He must have had to poop or something.”
“I’m putting the steaks on the expense report. The way he ate the first one, I might need to buy four or five more.”
“I could care less about a few steaks. Get him a side of beef if you think it will help. Just hurry up and get me a million dollar shot. I need you full time on this new one.”
~~~~
I went back to my desk and flipped through the folder. Terry Lennox, the client, had a fight with his girlfriend, Jacquelyn Wade, and she had run out on him. According to the file, he hadn’t seen her in over a week. He wanted us to find her, supposedly so he could try to patch things up. He hadn’t contacted the police because he didn’t think there was foul play involved. She apparently had money and didn’t need to work. She had no family in the state with the exception of an ex-husband named Roger. She had a couple of grown children living in Southern California. Her cell phone either was turned-off or was out of range. Either way, she wasn’t answering his calls. Terry’s occupation was listed as singer and his address was listed in a nice part of Scottsdale.
In the file was a picture of Jacquelyn on a tropical beach somewhere. There was a white sand beach, a blue ocean, and a grove of bright green palm trees. She looked somewhere in her late forties and was pretty. Her long auburn hair was wet, as if she had just gotten out of the ocean. She had on a light blue two-piece swimming suit and brown sandals. When I saw her, I thought she looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her. This feeling isn’t unusual for me since in the course of my work I can meet a dozen new people every day.
I went up and asked Sophie to run the standard checks on her: DMV, employment, and criminal background. I also asked her to check for recent bank and credit card activity. I went back to my cubicle and called our contact with Jackie’s cell phone carrier. I asked her to see if Jackie’s cell phone was turned on and if we could locate her through that.
~~~~
I went out the back security door and walked to my car. Since it was the end of March, temperatures had been climbing back into the nineties a couple of times a week. The winter had been beautiful and mild, as it usually was in Scottsdale, but I loved the feeling of sunshine and being warm again.
Thanksgiving to Easter is the traditional season for the flood of winter visitors into Arizona. With the warm weather, the snowbirds had started to drive their Cadillacs, Buicks, and RV’s back to Canada, North Dakota, or wherever it is they all go in the summer. The Scottsdale roads were already feeling less congested and you could now get into most of the restaurants without a reservation.
I unrolled the window and shoved Green Day into the CD player.
TWO
I drove up Scottsdale Road to Jackrabbit, then west to Monte Vista Drive. Terry Lennox lived in a large house in the prestigious Stoneview subdivision, to the east of Camelback Mountain. The houses here have desert landscaping with creosote bushes, jumping cholla, ocotillo, prickly pear, mesquite trees, and at least one huge saguaro cactus per block. I’ve always liked this part of Scottsdale. It’s a nice change from the tropical oasis theme in the rest of the city.
I pulled into the large circular driveway then stopped to make sure I had the right address. In st
ark contrast to the rest of the pristine houses on the block, this house was trailer trash gone wild. There was a pile of garbage and beer cans piled against the side of the house. The landscaping looked like it had been neglected for months, if not years. It was a mix of both dead and overgrown vegetation, along with a pile of tumbleweeds stuck against a row of dying rosemary bushes.
I got out of my car and walked to the front door. On the porch next to the front door was a toilet that had apparently been there for some time. Someone had set a plastic flowerpot in the cracked toilet bowl. The flowers had died long ago, but the flowerpot was still there. It added to the shabby feeling of the property. It goes to show money can’t always buy class, even in Scottsdale.
I rang the doorbell and a man, who I assumed to be Terry Lennox, came to the door. Terry was somewhere in his mid-twenties. He had on leopard-spotted gym pants, a black tank top, and was barefoot. He had long blond hair hanging in loose curls along with a three-day old beard. I’ll admit he was cute and had a nice body. Unfortunately, the illusion was shattered as soon as he started to talk.
“Yo, must be my lucky day,” he said, looking me up and down. His voice had a New York ghetto rapper accent sounding more MTV than actual ghetto. “What can I do for you, beautiful lady?”
I handed him a business card. “I’m Laura Black. I work for the law firm of Halftown, Oeding, Shapiro, and Hopkins. I’m looking into the disappearance of Jacquelyn Wade.”
He took the card, then turned and walked back into his living room. I took this as an invitation to follow. His sparsely furnished living room was as much a disaster as the outside of the house had been. There were overflowing ashtrays, empty pizza boxes, and beer bottles everywhere. Dirty laundry was draped haphazardly over most of the furniture and on the floor. The room had the smell of cigarettes and unwashed socks.
“Yeah, Jackie-D,” Terry said as he collapsed onto a black leather couch. He picked up a half empty beer bottle sitting on the coffee table and drained it. “I hope you can find her. We had a fight last week and she took off. No one’s seen her since. I just want to talk to her and see if we can patch things up. We weren’t together very long but I could tell Jackie and me had a real connection.”
