Uncovering Love

by Kacey Shea

  “Look, I don’t want to hear your excuses. Don’t let it happen again, okay?” I had to bite back a smart retort. I internally repeated the mantra my mother always told me as a child, “Don’t say anything, unless you have something nice to say.”

  “So, are you going to stand here all day or are we going to do this?” he asked in a commanding voice. I glared at him.

  “Oh, we’re doing this.” I turned and stomped towards the locker rooms to change into my athletic clothes. He was going to regret talking to me like a child. I was a grown ass adult and didn’t appreciate being treated like a petulant girl. I was still fuming inside when I walked through to meet him near the treadmills. Tate Reynolds was going to regret the day he messed with Evelyn Harper.

  The training session that followed became a silent battle of wills between Tate and me. I was mad he insinuated that I showed up late with complete disregard to our session. As if I was purposefully trying to get out of doing work. I was not an inconsiderate person, and the least he could have done was given me the benefit of the doubt. But no, he quickly jumped to the conclusion that I was just a self-centered person. Furthermore, he spoke to me as if I couldn’t follow directions. Well, I was going to prove that wasn’t the case.

  The following hour passed in quiet defiance on my part. Tate offered direction with little emotion and I completed those exercises with one hundred percent effort. Even when I struggled and wanted nothing more than to take a quick breather, I fought through the pain, knowing that letting him see my weakness would only prove him right about my character. It honestly felt as though he pushed me even harder today, willing me to break, and ask to quit. Well, nice try, buddy. When put to the test I was one of the most competitive people out there. Gone were the friendly banter and shared smiles of yesterday’s session.

  At the end of the hour, Tate offered me a quiet, “Solid work today, Evie.” I just nodded and marched straight to the locker room to retrieve my bag. I would stretch at home today. I had no desire to hang around this place a moment longer than necessary. I was halfway to my car when I heard Tate yell after me.

  “Evie, wait up!” I stopped, closed my eyes and took a deep cleansing breath before I turned around to face him. Tate jogged over to where I stood in the parking lot and stopped a few feet in front of me. He placed his hands nervously in his pockets, rocked back and forth on his feet, looking at the ground before lifting his eyes to meet mine. I looked at him expectantly. He called my name; I wasn’t going to break the ice here.

  “You did great work today, Evie.”

  “Is that what you came out here to tell me?”

  “Yes. Well, no. I mean, yes, you did do an excellent job today. I also wanted to say I’m sorry.” He took me off guard with his apology. “Look, I had a great time with you yesterday and when you showed up late today it just bothered me. I’m sorry I jumped down your throat about it. I was an asshole, and I hope you don’t hold it against me.”

  “Thank you Tate, I appreciate that. I’ll see you in a few days at our next session, okay?” I moved to leave.

  “Wait. Evie, do you maybe want to get lunch again today?” I considered accepting his invitation. For the sake of the investigation I was tempted to take him up on his offer, but personally I needed some time away. I appreciated his apology, but I was fuming mad just a few minutes ago and now suffering what felt like emotional whiplash.

  “I don’t think so, Tate.” I said, and sighed. As much fun as it would be to forget what happened and move on, I didn’t think I was capable just yet.

  He looked a little disappointed but then added with a smile, “Maybe next time then?” I returned his smile with a genuine one of my own.

  “Yeah, that sounds good. You have a good day, Tate. And thank you for the apology. It means a lot to me.” I turned to walk the rest of the way to my car. “I’ll text you?” He yelled to me with a grin. I opened my car door to slide in.

  “You don’t have my number.”

  “Sure, I do. It’s in the computer system here.” He pointed to the gym and I just shook my head at him.

  “Isn’t that some kind of a violation in gym-member confidentiality code?”

  I threw my bag onto my passenger seat. He just grinned wider before laughing and heading back inside. I could already feel my muscles revolting in protest of the workout they underwent. I sat carefully on my seat, trying to move the least amount possible. The soreness that had already started was about to spread throughout my entire body.

  Maybe that hadn’t been the best way to get back at Tate. It felt really good to show him I could take whatever he handed my way, but now I was sure I would regret it. Thank God my next session wasn’t until Friday.

  I KNEW LEAVING EVIE WITH Veronica Ortega was the best alternative since one of us needed to be on time for our meeting with Blackman. Evie still seemed a little unsure of herself when it came to private investigating, but she was doing a better job than she gave herself credit for. Besides, Miss Ortega was probably one of the most low-maintenance clients we would ever meet. Evie would be able to handle her just fine, and it would be a decent step in building her confidence. Next time I’d make sure to schedule client meetings further apart.

  I climbed into my Ford F-150 SuperCrew truck, the only splurge purchase I had allowed myself upon release from the Army. The lifted truck was only a few years old, the exterior clean and painted black. It was awesome. I could have easily purchased something more practical or a little older¸ but I deserved one indulgence for my time served and the money I saved over the years. I cranked up my stereo and hoped most of the morning rush had dissipated as I followed my directions to the meeting with Blackman.

  When I spoke with Harold Blackman yesterday he mentioned it would be best for us to meet at his store. I pulled into a row of boutique shops at fifteen minutes before ten and found myself double and triple checking the address in front of me. I don’t know what I expected, but it was not the high end lingerie shop I was parked across from. A sign reading Jolene’s Intimate Apparel in large script lettering hung above the storefront. I exited my truck, setting the alarm with a double click to the remote, thankful it was still early and no one would see me entering this place.

  I walked in, a tinkling bell chiming to alert the staff of a customer’s arrival, and looked around. The store was small and intimate, the displays showcasing the variety of lovely, classy, and downright naughty options of undergarments. I found myself curiously studying a particularly confusing ensemble. I mean, seriously, how a woman was supposed to get that on solo was a conundrum. She would need an entire prep team with all those ties and hooks. This particular piece was a little wild and fun and my mind immediately wondered what Kate would look like wearing it. I could see her in something like this; it was totally her style.

  I was still daydreaming and staring at the lingerie when I was approached by a short, sophisticated looking older woman. She was wearing a stylish burgundy pant suit and looked like a modern day Mrs. Poppins. “Would you like me to box that up for you?” she asked with a polite smile. My face burned. It was embarrassing to be caught ogling a mannequin. “Oh, no thank you. I’m actually here to meet Mr. Blackman. Is he here by any chance?”

  Her smiled widened. “Why yes. He said he was expecting a few visitors today. Please follow me right this way.” I followed the saleswoman through a curtain draped door and past three open changing rooms to a door marked ‘Staff Only.’ She gave three quick knocks and a loud, deep “Come in” was heard through the door. She turned to smile at me. “Go right on in. He’s expecting you and I need to get back out front.” She politely excused herself and brushed past me.

  I opened the door to find a large storage space filled with an overabundance of boxed merchandise. There was a large workroom table in the middle of the room and two smaller desks off to the sides, each holding a computer and phone. One desk was cluttered in a disorganized mess, note paper and mail strewn about, the keyboard barely visible. The other de
sk was pristine and spotless, so clean it appeared as if no one worked at that space. I was puzzled that I still hadn’t seen the man behind the loud greeting.

  “Hello, you must be Mr. Beltran.” The deep voice sounded again and I looked around once more in confusion. My eyes found the man’s face peeking over a row of boxes stacked about four feet high. I smiled and moved towards him.

  “Yes, I’m Jonathan Beltran. My partner Evelyn Harper isn’t able to join us today.”

  Harold Blackman walked around the boxes to shake my outstretched hand and I was surprised to take in his appearance. For having such a deep voice I wasn’t expecting a man who was barely five feet tall. At six-two I felt like a giant standing across from him.

  Blackman was thin with dark hair and dark eyes hiding behind a pair of thick framed glasses. He looked to be in his late forties and wouldn’t be considered very good looking by the opposite sex if I had to guess. He was clean shaven and wore a relaxed expression on his face., but there was an uncomfortable and awkward feeling in the way he moved.

  “I’m Harold Blackman. Thank you for agreeing to meet me here and for being available to meet so quickly.” He motioned for us to sit at the large worktable. I appreciated the gesture. Seated made it easier for us to speak eye to eye.

  “Sure thing, it was no problem. I have to admit I wasn’t expecting a lingerie store after we spoke yesterday. How long have you owned this place?” Call it nosy, but I was curious how this tiny, unattractive man had come to own a store specializing in women’s undergarments.

  Blackman grinned at me. “Well, it was my ex-wife’s dream to open this place. We opened ten years ago when our girls were still little. It was hard work but we managed to grow into a relatively successful small business. We opened an online storefront a few years ago to try and expand to a larger market of women, and that has actually turned out to be the most profitable segment of the business.” He paused to grin wider. “So when I caught my wife cheating, I made sure I took one hundred percent of the business in the divorce.”

  I tried to school my features but I was a little taken aback by the delight Blackman expressed in retelling his situation. If it was possible, he smiled even wider as he added, “You know this place is named after her?” I nodded once again and decided to move our conversation back to the purpose for my visit. It was apparent he took great pleasure in taking away his ex-wife’s dream, which was a little too vindictive for my taste.

  “On the phone you mentioned you had two areas for investigation? Why don’t you tell me a little about that?” Harold Blackman’s expression turned serious.

  “I hear you specialize in relationship background investigations, but I’m hoping you’ll be able to help me with something outside of that realm. First, let me explain that when my wife and I decided to separate last year after her infidelity, our divorce became a very ugly situation. Not that anyone enjoys going through the process of a divorce, but ours was particularly nasty.

  “I demanded I get the store, which she relinquished after taking our family home and the vacation condo in Mexico. But most of our fighting had to do with our girls. I have two daughters, my sixteen year old, Violet, and my thirteen year old, Elena. To say the entire experience has put a strain on my relationship with my daughters is the understatement of the year.” He paused, taking a deep breath.

  “At first, we tried shared custody of the girls. I realize they need their mother, but it was hard for me to share them with her. She’s a selfish bitch. But the fact they are teenagers doesn’t help. I’m just a man and they are becoming little women; they need feminine guidance. I mean, it’s not as though I can give advice on boys or makeup or tampons, you know?” I tried to hold back a smile as I nodded my reply and waited for him to continue.

  “Well, we had regained some semblance of a routine when Jolene decided to run off with her latest boy toy to live in Mexico. Now I have the girls full time. I admit I’m not perfect at raising girls or being a single parent, but I think it is best that they aren’t subjected to anymore of their mother’s escapades.” I had to agree. As much as I understood there were two sides to every story, it didn’t sound like mom was willing to put her children before her own wants.

  “Since Jolene left for Mexico, Violet has become distant and closed off. She won’t talk to me and is increasingly mean and rude to her younger sister. Her best friends don’t come over to the house anymore. She won’t tell me why or what’s bothering her. She’s always been quiet and reserved but she’s downright secretive now, and I have no clue what she’s up to half of the time. I understand these actions are normal behaviors for most teenagers, but my instincts tell me this is more than your average teenage rebellion.” He looked at me with imploring eyes.

  “I would like to hire you and your partner to find out what’s going on with her. Maybe she is being bullied at school or in some sort of trouble and she thinks she can’t come to me? I’m at a complete loss for what to do here. I want to trust her but I can’t seem to shake this horrible feeling. Do you think you can help me?” He asked me with such heartfelt emotion I could clearly see that whatever distain he held for his wife had not transferred to his feelings for his girls.

  “I can assure you we will do our best to find out if there is anything going on with your daughter.” He looked relieved at my answer.

  “I can’t begin to tell you what this means to me. My friends think I’m overreacting, but I know my girls and something isn’t right.”

  “You said there was a second matter?” I questioned and Blackman’s somber expression changed to one of delight.

  “Yes. There is a woman. I have much affection for her and would like to begin a courtship. However, given my history, I do not trust my own lust filled eyes to select a woman who is worthy of my love. She delights and tempts my senses every single day, yet we never speak.”

  He gazed off wistfully. Okay. This man was just strange. In all my years I had never heard any man talk about a woman with such effusive language. All my sympathy for his situation floated out the door as he continued to enthuse about his potential girlfriend as though she were an antique toy to be acquired. I tried to remain professional.

  “What exactly would you like me to look into?” He smiled a broken smile.

  “Her ability to stay faithful to a lover, of course.”

  I agreed we could help Blackman in both matters and left him with the relevant paperwork before heading outside to my truck. I encouraged him to share as much information as possible regarding both matters, because something told me this guy had more baggage than an airliner cargo hold. He promised to email the completed forms within the next twenty-four hours so we could get started immediately. I sent Evie a quick text before getting in my truck. I hoped she wasn’t close, because her driving out here would be a complete waste of time.

  As I opened my door I noticed a petite Asian woman glaring at me through the storefront window adjacent to Blackman’s. I slipped my shades down over my eyes and she disappeared from the window. That was kind of strange. The store looked to be one that sold old, refurbished furniture and unique art and household decorations. Or maybe new items that just appeared to be old. The sign above read, Restoration Decor & More. I wondered briefly who the woman was and then shook off a strange feeling before starting my truck.

  I looked at the clock and decided to stop back by Evie’s apartment and grab some of the spy wear my buddy Brock had sent us. The box had been waiting at the door last night when we got home from dinner, and I couldn’t contain my excitement at having a few new gadgets. When it comes to boys and their toys I guess we never really grow up.

  I had plenty of time so I decided to change into more comfortable street clothes, going with basketball shorts, T-shirt, worn Nikes and a ball cap. Before heading out I made sure none of my clothes had identifying logos or labels on them so I could blend into the crowd. I grabbed a pair of military grade binoculars and the telephoto lens camera. This was my first stake out
as a civilian and I brimmed with excitement.

  After driving to the gym I found a good street parking spot where I had a view of the main and employee exits as well as the majority of the parking lot. With my shades on and hat pulled low, I settled in to wait for Tate to leave from his morning shift.

  I had asked around the gym while working out there this weekend and found Tate’s co-workers seemed to respect and genuinely like him. No one seemed to have a relationship with him outside of work so I wasn’t able to get any personal information. He could just be a simple guy with a limited social life, but his friendly demeanor with gym clients told me that wasn’t the case. I was sure he had a story, and I was determined to find out what it was.

  I saw Evie exit the building. Uh oh, I knew that walk anywhere. She was angry as hell. I zoomed in with my binoculars to be sure. Yep, QT was pissed off. I had to chuckle because normally she was a pretty easy going person. However, she had this feisty side and once she was angry she was quite the little fireball.

  I wondered what had crawled up her ass. She was probably still mad that I signed her up for personal training sessions. She hated working out. It wasn’t nice, but I found it oddly satisfying that she was stuck putting in time lifting weights when she hated it so much. I didn’t like the idea of Reynolds having one on one time with QT, but I had to put my personal feelings aside for this case.

  Evie was special to me and I was fiercely protective of her. When we were younger she was like the sister I never had. As we grew older I began to hope there would be a time when she would look to me as more than just a friend. She was incredibly beautiful, funnier than most people knew, and smart as hell. One of the things I found most attractive about her was that she had no clue how beautiful she really was. She had an organic, classic beauty that drew all eyes to her when she entered a room.