D.B. Hayes, Detective

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D.B. Hayes, Detective Page 4

by Darlene Scalera; Dani Sinclair

Deep, rich, sexy and male, the sound washed over me. Definitely not Victor’s Lounge unless this was Victor himself.

  “Sorry,” I told the voice. “I must have the wrong number.”

  “Who were you trying to reach?”

  There was a sudden edge to the voice. It was still a great voice.

  “Sharon Armstrong,” I told him. I pulled a friend’s name off the top of my head and read him back his number, transposing the last two digits. He corrected me immediately.

  I could have listened to his voice forever, but my quarry chose that moment to leave the restaurant, so I apologized and hung up. I wondered if the man matched his voice. Then I wondered if I was about to find out. Was she on her way to meet the man behind that voice?

  There was enough traffic on the street that I didn’t have to worry about being spotted now. When I felt certain Elaine’s destination was the address on the paper, I decided to take a chance. I turned off, took a shortcut that would bring me up on the street behind Victor’s and parked the car where I’d have no trouble getting out in a hurry. I walked around the block and stood across the street in the doorway of a closed shop. It afforded me a good view of the parking lot as well as the front door of the lounge while keeping me relatively concealed.

  Elaine pulled in even as I slipped into position. She stepped from the Jag and flashed a look around as if she was expecting someone. After a few seconds, she frowned and headed for the entrance.

  I decided to give her ten minutes to get settled before going inside myself. I was regretting my generosity with Rob. Since I only had three dollars left, I couldn’t go sit at the bar. The best I could do was have a quick peek inside to see who she met. I might be able to snap a picture unobserved, but it wasn’t likely. I’d have to try for the man’s picture when they came back outside.

  And I was fairly sure it would be a he. A woman doesn’t go to a place like Victor’s alone unless she’s meeting someone or trolling. Either way I needed to capture the moment on my digital camera.

  Since I couldn’t read my watch in the growing darkness, I had to guess at the time. I was about to make my move when there was a movement near the back of the lounge’s parking lot. Someone had stepped out of a car that was already parked back there. The car was a burgundy Honda. It must have been sitting there before Elaine arrived or I would have noticed it pulling in. Given that I don’t believe in coincidence, I knew who the driver would turn out to be even before he came into view.

  My heart skipped a beat, then started thumping like a wild thing. I almost forgot to bring up the camera. I was right. The zoom lens wasn’t necessary to tell me that this was the same man who’d been parked on Elaine’s street earlier this evening.

  Chapter Three

  Didn’t it just figure? The first interesting man I’ve seen since moving back home turned out to be the lover of the woman I’d been hired to follow. I shrugged philosophically. If he was the sort who had affairs with married women, he wasn’t my type anyhow.

  I let some time elapse before crossing the street. Instead of following him inside, I headed straight for the burgundy Honda. Unfortunately Elaine’s boyfriend wasn’t as accommodating as she’d been. He’d locked his car and its insides were anything but pristine. I couldn’t see much besides fast-food wrappers, empty paper cups, CD cases and a paperback whose title I couldn’t make out. Somehow that the handsome man was a bit of a slob made me feel a little better.

  As I moved around the car I discovered the Honda had a broken taillight and a dent in back on the left-hand side. Since I’d followed that car when we’d left the Russos’ place, I knew that dent hadn’t been there earlier. Though I hadn’t noticed his car there, I was guessing he’d been part of the accident in the parking lot at Legacy Village that had nearly caused me to lose Elaine. That meant he’d been following her, too, which didn’t make a bit of sense. What was the point if they’d been scheduled to meet here anyhow?

  I didn’t like this, not even a little. I was feeling very edgy as I noted the time and took down the plate number before heading for the main entrance. Victor’s was nothing more than an upscale bar that showcased a baby-grand piano. This being a Monday night, there was no one at the keyboard. A player piano along the far wall was belting out an old rock-and-roll tune.

  There were only a handful of customers inside and most of them were sitting at the bar itself. I nodded to the bartender, ignored the other stares and strode toward the back as if I knew where I was going. Turned out I did. The restrooms were back there and so was my quarry. They were sitting in a booth conveniently close to the ladies’ room. The man glanced my way as I strode past, but I didn’t look in their direction. I didn’t think he would recognize me. How could he?

  Setting my camera down on a shelf, I washed my cuts in the cracked but surprisingly clean sink. I wanted to give the couple time to forget about me. The scratches were red and angry looking, not to mention painful, but they didn’t look infected and I figured they were my own fault. The cats had only been fighting for their freedom. I couldn’t blame them. After all, I was a stranger and only one of them was Mr. Sam.

  By cracking open the bathroom door, I had an unobstructed view of the couple’s table. I was glad now that I’d gone to the expense of an infrared lens for my camera. A flash would have been a noticeable problem. As it was, I snapped several pictures of them with their heads together before striding back past them. It was probably my imagination, but I felt his eyes on my back all the way to the door.

  There was an ATM on the corner of the building next door. I figured I had time to use it if I hurried. As it turned out, I hadn’t even needed to hurry. They took their time inside. I got several good shots of them coming out, still looking extremely cozy. The hunk helped her inside his car while I sprinted back to Binky.

  Sam Two was sitting on top of Sam One’s box. I think he’d been trying to let the other cat out. Fortunately he hadn’t succeeded. He jumped over the backseat the minute he saw me coming. I scrambled inside and started the engine.

  “Okay, guys, I’m really, really sorry. Honest. We’re on our way to a motel unless I miss my guess. Once I get there, I’ll see what I can do to make things better for you. I’ll scrounge up some water and give you something to eat, okay?”

  From the grumbling, it was less than satisfactory. Guilt gnawed on me as we made our way onto the highway. I like animals—sometimes more than people. I didn’t want anything to happen to these little guys, even if I wasn’t a cat person.

  Since I was worried about the hunk spotting a tail, I hung back as far as I dared. Once seen, Binky was somewhat unforgettable. I really was going to have to get him painted one of these days, even if I had to buy a spray can and do it myself.

  It wasn’t until the Honda headed for the Ohio Turnpike that I got worried. Were they running away together? Not that I blamed Elaine, mind you. Sexy young hunk versus balding old man with scary eyes wasn’t even a toss-up in my book. Heck, I’d be tempted to take off with the hunk, too, and I didn’t even have to go home to someone like Albert Russo. The problem was I couldn’t follow them forever. Binky wasn’t used to traveling any distance or at speeds over forty miles per hour. I had no idea what his top speed was, but I knew it wouldn’t be much before he blew something critical.

  Not so the Honda. I got on the turnpike with extreme misgivings and had all I could do to keep the other car in sight. The hunk drove as if he didn’t have a second to spare.

  Sweat was dribbling down my face and it had little to do with the temperature, which was cooling off even more as night claimed the sky. Getting on the turnpike for a simple tryst seemed a bit extreme.

  Where the devil were they going?

  If they were running away together, I was in deep trouble. After a while Binky’s oil light began flashing intermittently. Binky craves oil the way I crave diet soda, and I was pretty sure I didn’t have a can of either one in the trunk. If he broke down out here, I was in for it. Time to turn around.


  Unfortunately I’d run out of exits by the time I firmly came to that decision. We’d come to the end of the Ohio Turnpike and I spotted the Honda near the head of the line to pay their toll.

  I snapped a couple of quick pictures as I waited to one side of them, much farther back in my own line. As they went through, heading into Pennsylvania, I debated my options. The next exit was Beaver Falls. I had no choice. I’d have to turn around there and stop for oil so I could make it home. Even Albert Russo couldn’t expect me to follow them clear across Pennsylvania.

  Could he?

  Probably, I decided fatalistically, but that was too bad. He should have hired someone else. I had Binky and two cats to think about—not to mention forty-three dollars minus the toll left in my wallet.

  To my surprise, the Honda turned off at Beaver Falls. I urged Binky to close the distance, hoping he wouldn’t blow a gasket or something even worse. My curiosity was going nuts, especially when they pulled into a jazzy-looking motel unit right off the highway. This was just too bizarre. They’d driven all the way into Pennsylvania for a quickie? What was wrong with the motels in Ohio? Admittedly this place looked brand new, but even so, traveling all this way for a little slap and tickle made no sense.

  The hunk was inside getting registered when I pulled up with my camera and found a strategic place to park. I got some quality shots of the two of them in front of the motel, then going inside a room. Mr. Russo was going to be extremely pleased with the pictures, if not their content. He’d probably like a few more intimate shots, but I draw the line at voyeurism, even if I could have seen in around the heavy drape they pulled across the window.

  It was a safe bet they’d be busy for the next half hour or so. I made a note of the time, left the car and the now silent cats and walked to the gas station on the corner for a can of oil for Binky, some water for the cats and a candy bar and a can of diet soda for me. I ate the candy on my way back and wished I’d bought more than one. I was starving.

  Having dated a mechanic off and on, I’d learned more than I ever wanted to know about car engines. Replenishing the oil was child’s play. Except that sometime during my ministrations apparently my quarry split.

  I couldn’t believe it. When I closed the hood and glanced over at their parking space, the Honda was gone and the room was dark. I looked at my watch and blinked. Good grief. He might look like a hunk, but he was definitely no stud.

  Maybe they’d gone out for something to eat to recharge. Except that Elaine had just finished a full-course meal including dessert. As I hurried to the driver’s side and got in, I wondered if they’d had a fight and changed their minds. That’s when I realized I had a second problem. Sam One had escaped.

  Oh, he was still in the car—unless he’d been able to squeeze himself through one of the side vent windows. And I sincerely doubted that, even if he was the thinner of the two cats. I peered over the seat and four green eyes peered back at me from the floor.

  “You helped him get out, didn’t you?”

  Neither of them so much as blinked.

  “Okay, fine. If you want company that bad, you can have it. As long as you both stay back there and out from under my feet, we’ll get along fine. I’ve got some water for you, but I guess it had better wait until we stop again. We’re going home, so hang on.”

  Binky started with a grinding noise I knew he shouldn’t be making. But he did start and that was what counted. So, unfortunately, did the cries from the backseat.

  “Knock it off, you’re giving me a headache.”

  Obviously they didn’t care.

  Since there was no sign of the Honda in either direction, I decided there was little point in driving around aimlessly looking for it. I should have enough pictures to satisfy Mr. Russo for one night.

  It was an uneventful trip back to Ohio if you didn’t count the ruckus the cats made. I counted it. Particularly when they started hissing and snarling at each other. One of the Sams nearly gave me a heart attack when he leaped back over the passenger seat, bounced off the box and landed on the floor beside me.

  “Hey! Beat it! I’m trying to drive here.”

  He hunkered down on the floor and hissed at me. It was a fun trip. Mickey had given me forty-two dollars to find the cat, but there wasn’t enough money in the world to put up with this. At least they stayed out from under my feet while I drove, but I lived in fear the whole way home.

  I’d never been so grateful to park in my life—until I remembered I was going to have to find some way to smuggle the two cats inside without being seen. My apartment doesn’t allow pets. They barely allow humans.

  When I reached for the nearest cat, it drew back and took a swipe at me. Since my hand was still throbbing, I decided not to argue without protection. I hurried inside the building, dug out my winter leather gloves and a jacket and went back to the parking lot to play big-game hunter.

  I’m sure it looked vastly entertaining to anyone watching—as long as that anyone wasn’t the super. I hoped that nosy woman was absorbed in her television at this hour, because she and her husband lived in the building and they didn’t miss much.

  Sam One was actually a pretty easy catch. He struggled briefly but almost seemed to welcome being dumped back inside the box. Maybe Sam Two had scared him. As long as he wasn’t hurt, that was fine with me.

  I carried the box inside and set it on the living room floor while I went back outside for the litter, litter pan and food I’d purchased and put in the trunk. Sam One seized the opportunity to escape the box and disappeared behind a chair. Fine with me. It’s a small apartment. There weren’t too many other places he could go.

  I got a dish of water and set everything on the bathroom floor before I went back out to try and catch Sam Two. He had no interest in letting me near him again, treats or not. He didn’t intend to be taken without a fight. The little beast put a hole in my jacket and ruined my gloves before I got him out of the backseat and into the box.

  If there had been anyone in the lobby or on the steps as I ran upstairs with my yowling prize, I’d have been given an eviction notice on the spot.

  The moment I plopped the box on the living room floor, the ungrateful little beast pushed up the flap and took off down the hall to disappear inside my bedroom. Not good. I did not want that cat in my bedroom. But after peering under the bed and being stared down by a pair of defiant green eyes, I decided he could stay. I wasn’t up for another battle.

  After zapping a frozen dinner to fill my stomach, I decided I’d better download the photos before calling it a night. There was an especially good one of the hunk. I framed out the face and blew it up for a closer look. Despite the grainy texture his features were clear. He had light-colored eyes, probably blue, and rugged, sharply defined features.

  I traced the square face on the screen with a fingertip. It was a strong face and very symmetrical—the face of a man who took charge and got things done.

  “In a hurry,” I added aloud with a snicker as I remembered how short a time he’d spent in the motel room. “So much for gorgeous hunks. You really should get a haircut, you know.”

  But instead of deleting the picture, I printed it out along with the others and set it to one side before I carefully marked and stored the memory stick. By the time I’d typed up my notes into a report, I was yawning. There hadn’t been a sound from either of my unwanted guests, so I went in search of them.

  One was still under my bed. The other was squished behind the blue hand-me-down sofa in the living room. I worried that he might be stuck back there, but when I would have moved it out from the wall, he proved me wrong by wriggling even farther back from the end.

  “Fine. You want to spend the night back there, be my guest.”

  I wasn’t quite as happy about the one under my bed, but as long as he stayed put, we’d be fine. I set my alarm so I wouldn’t oversleep and got ready for bed.

  I needn’t have bothered with the alarm. The catfight woke me before eight. Even I’
m not enough of a zombie to sleep through noises like those, especially when the sounds were coming from the foot of my bed.

  “Knock it off!”

  The sudden silence was almost as loud as the fight had been. I swung my legs off the bed and one of the Sams streaked out of the room. The other one must have gone back under the bed because there was no sign of it.

  Great. It wasn’t even eight o’clock in the morning and I was wide awake. My body clock doesn’t normally start until mid-morning, after a couple of diet colas. Obviously this was not going to be a normal day. I’d be very happy when Mickey claimed Mr. Sam so I could take the other cat to the animal shelter.

  By the time I was dressed and ready to leave, I decided I was risking all-out war by leaving the two of them together unattended. I made a second makeshift litter box out of the cardboard box by cutting it down and lining it with aluminum foil. I left it in my bedroom with Sam Two and a second bowl of food and water.

  I actually got to the shop ahead of my aunt and Trudy and utilized the time by setting up for the morning. I had coffee brewing and had started on the first of the day’s arrangements by the time the pair arrived.

  “Well, you’re here bright and early this morning,” Trudy greeted in surprise.

  “How did your evening go, dear? I thought you wanted to borrow my car last night,” Aunt Lacy added.

  “The evening was…interesting,” I told them, “and it turned out I didn’t have time to borrow the car, but it worked out okay. Mr. Russo is sending someone over to pick up his report first thing this morning. And if a young boy named Mickey shows up looking for me while I’m busy, keep him here at all costs.”

  “A young boy?” Trudy said, raising one eyebrow in question.

  I hated when she did that. I’d been trying to do it ever since I can remember, but my face just isn’t built right.

  “He’s ten,” I said to head off the direction her thoughts were taking.

 

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