Jackie leaned over and whispered, “Just let her be happy for the moment.”
I nodded.
“You missed most of the party, but we still have a little something left.” Charles held a glass of wine out to me, then switched hands just as I reached out and handed me a bottle of sparkling water. “No drugs and alcohol. Very bad.”
I didn’t even grab for the bottle, but I wanted to take it from Charles and hit him across the head with it. But he was just being Charles.
Everyone migrated to the living room, where there was ample seating. Catey and Corey were entertaining themselves, texting on their phones. So as long as there were soda and snacks, they were good.
Jackie sat next to me. I leaned over and asked, “Did Anna ever call Catey?”
“Actually, Anna and Crissy are staying with us for a few days, while Bridget and Stephanie get their affairs in order.” Jackie looked across at Catey, who seemed oblivious.
“That’s interesting.”
“They’re best friends. Anna explained everything to Catey. She also told her that she’s going to be starting therapy sessions next week. Catey has offered to go with Anna as moral support.”
What a thoughtful kid Catey was. “Now that’s a good friend.” Then I thought about Tiffany and asked, “Have you heard anything about Tiffany?”
“Nothing. I drove by her parents’ home, but all the drapes were drawn, and there wasn’t even a car in the driveway. They picked her up last night, and from what Piper said, it was a tearful reunion. I hope they’re understanding about what happened. Piper told me what she said when you found her.”
“Once again, I’m reminded how hard it is to be a parent.” There was an aching, but it was in my heart, not my ankle.
“And they just let anyone who is willing to have sex have them.” Jackie shook her head. This was a soapbox we’d been on many times.
Nick approached and leaned in close. “Come on, you need to go back to bed.” He wrapped his arms around my middle and pulled me up from the couch.
Damn, if his muscles didn’t make me feel all warm and fuzzy. I was hoping this was the beginning of the “one day at a time” thing he’d mentioned before.
“Sorry people, but Mimi needs her rest. I can’t have her sleeping in my guest room forever. I’m a bachelor, you know. Puts a mighty big cramp in my style to have a chick living in my house.” Nick winked at me.
As I stood there, everyone came over to give me a hug. When Charles hugged me, I asked, “So, was he really going to Paris?”
Charles stood back and looked at me, then at Nick and said, “Why would you even care?” Then he kissed me on the cheek and said his goodbyes. Just before he got to the door, he said, “I think I heard him say something about bringing home real champagne.”
I tried not to let it show, but inside, I smiled.
When Catey came to hug me, there were tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry about all of this, Aunt Mimi.” She hugged me tight.
I patted her hair and said, “If it hadn’t been for you, we may never have found Tiffany.”
She wouldn’t look me in the eye. “I guess.”
“Just remember this for the next time you meet some cute guy online. Promise?”
“Promise.” She sounded so young.
Nick bent down and scooped me up. “It’s easier than having you lean on me.”
Once we were back in the guest bedroom, I asked, “Why was everyone here at your house?”
“One showed up to see how you were doing, then like some sort of freak magnetic energy field, they all showed up.” He leaned over and deposited me in the bed. “This is not how I pictured you in my bed all these months.”
He kissed me on the forehead, then handed me a glass of water and another pain pill.
I tossed the pill to the back of my mouth and drank the entire glass. Then settled in for a nap.
Nick sat beside me on the bed. “Want some company until you fall asleep?”
I tried not to grin, but I’m sure I looked like a schoolgirl with a crush. “Sure.”
Nick kicked off his shoes, went around to the other side of the bed and climbed under the covers.
As I drifted off to sleep, I swear I heard him say, “One day at a time, Mimi.” Then he kissed me softly on the cheek.
TEXTUAL RELATIONS
Copyright © 2012 by Jamie Lee Scott
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, LBB Company, 1106 Hwy 69 N, Forest City, IA 50436.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Scott, Jamie Lee, 5-10-12. Textual Relations. LBB Company.
DEATH OF A SALES REP
by
Jamie Lee Scott
A
Gotcha Detective Agency
Mystery
Text copyright © 2012 Jamie Lee Scott
All Rights Reserved
DEATH OF A SALES REP
Copyright © 2012 by Jamie Lee Scott
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, LBB Company, 1106 Hwy 69 N, Forest City, IA 50436.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Scott, Jamie Lee, 10-10-12. Death of a Sales Rep. LBB Company.
CHAPTER 1
Sometimes the best parts of life are the times you get to screw with another person’s head. It’s not so great when someone is fucking with yours, but whoever said life was fair? So cliché, but then I spy on cheating spouses--and cheats in general--for a living. My life is a cliché.
I start most every day by heading to work at the detective agency I own. I started Gotcha Detective Agency a few years back, when my life fell apart and I needed something to keep me focused on living. If you believe the hype, I’m living the American dream. I own my own business, my own house, and I have a dog. And according to the insurance company, I also have a husband. Dominic, my husband, died a few years ago, but since the body was never recovered from the wreckage of the plane, the insurance company still considers me to be married. I don’t wear my wedding ring anymore, mostly because it leaves a tan line, and I don’t want my target on a decoy job to know I’m married.
As I eased into my parking space, I looked up to see one of my business partners waiting. Lola, my Doberman, saw him too, and leapt out of the car in record speed.
“You ready to go?” Charles asked, as he opened my door and petted Lola simultaneously.
I’m Mimi Capurro, and Charles Parks is my right hand man. And to be honest, he’s my left hand, and many times he’s my feet too. That is, when he’s not tripping me up like this morning.
“Baby, I was born ready.” Actually, I had no idea what the hell Charles was talking about. “But can you remind me exactly what I was born ready for?”
I followed Charles up the back stairs and into the kitchen, Lola between us. Gotcha’s offices are in an old Victorian house that used to be the offices of Dominic’s produce brokerage business. Most of the rooms have been converted to offices, but we kept the kitchen and the two luxurious bathrooms too.
&n
bsp; I knew he wasn’t planning a day at the agency, as he wore burnt umber pants rolled at the ankles, and an untucked cream V-neck tee. Not his normal “fop” work attire. His tan sneakers squeaked on the hardwood floor as he straightened and cleaned the room. I knew he was mad. Just as Lola grabbed a mouthful of food when she was scolded, Charles cleaned when pissed off.
“I’ll ask again, ready for what?” I snatched the coffee cup from Charles’ hand.
“San Francisco,” he snapped.
San Francisco? Then the light bulb went on. San Francisco! I cleaned and rinsed the coffee cup while facing the sink, so Charles couldn’t see the panic on my face. “Well, crap, you’d think with as much as you’ve babbled on about it, I’d have remembered. Are you sure it’s this weekend?”
I had promised to go to San Francisco to support Charles’ friend, Anthony DeLuca, at his first trade show. Anthony made a highly sought after line of voodoo dolls. I know, right? It’s amazing how many people bought his high-end voodoo toy.
Anthony had recently fired his sales rep and was now selling the dolls himself. In the six years he’d been manufacturing the dolls, he’d never had to design a booth and sell for himself. He’d always had sales reps, but after one greedy rep filed a suit against him for firing her, he decided he’d be in charge of his own fate. Funny enough, his business soared. Turned out, Anthony wasn’t the only person who didn’t care for the sales rep’s pushy ways.
“So your bag is packed?” Before I could answer, Charles added, “I’ll just go out and get it for you.”
“I have my overnight bag in my car. Besides, I probably won’t be staying the night. I don’t have a sitter for Lola.”
I always kept an overnight bag handy, for stakeouts, and whatever else might come up. Not that anything else ever did come up. The bag held a couple of changes of clothes, that little black dress for every occasion, a week’s worth of underwear, flats, athletic shoes, and pumps, and all of the toiletries and makeup a girl might need in any situation. You never know…
“Jackie will be here to get her,” he looked at his watch, “in about an hour.”
Jackie Bacarrin was one of my detectives, and my best friend. One of the last cases I’d worked on involved her daughter, Catey. It was a true lesson in paying attention to who your children were interacting with online.
“What?” Charles had once again taken over my life. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciated it when I wanted him there, but this was all about him now. “Okay, San Francisco aside, we have an important conference call this morning,” I said, as I wiped out the coffee cup and poured coffee into it.
Charles whipped out his phone and looked at the calendar. “Oh, shit, the Hewes Chemical Management account. That conference call is today?” He headed to the front of the building.
If we could land the Hewes Chemical account, we could put a huge notch in our belt. Hewes was one of the largest corporate accounts we’d ever had the chance to land. Usually, with corporations, it’s a case of workman’s comp or disability fraud, but this one was about much more. Not that we could go around bragging about the case, confidentiality and all, but we’d be able to refer to it without names. It’d look good on a business resume.
“Nine o’clock, dear,” I said, as I trailed him.
“Just one more thing about San Francisco, then I’ll drop it until after the meeting.” Charles looked over his shoulder at me.
I resigned myself. “What?”
“I invited Nick to come help out.”
Now that stopped me in my tracks. In a million years I’d never have guessed.
Not once, in all the chatter about the trip to San Francisco, did Charles mention he’d invited him. It pissed me off that the sound of Nick’s name had my heart nearly pounding through my chest. Part of me was excited as hell that he’d be there, but it’d been weeks since we’d talked, and the other part of me dreaded seeing him.
Nick Christianson and I had been taking it one day at a time since the last case we’d been thrown together on. I knew down to my core that I wanted it to be more, but I wasn’t going to wear my heart on my sleeve just to have it ripped to shreds again. I didn’t think I could handle that. It seemed that one day at a time kept turning into two days, then two weeks to the point where we didn’t have time for each other.
“Charles, can I talk to you for a minute?” I called after him.
The pompous ass completely ignored me. I wanted to know why on earth he’d ask Nick to come along. It wasn’t like Charles and Nick were friends. Sure, they’d done business together. Nick was a cop and Charles did freelance work for the police, so their paths crossed. Charles’ skills as a computer forensics tech were renowned, and the Salinas Police Department seemed to be using his services more often. Even the drug dealers and gangs had gotten into the digital age, and Charles was there to thwart them whenever possible.
What miffed me the most was that Charles hadn’t told me he’d been in touch with Nick. He usually loved to rub that stuff in my face.
Nick’s one of the Salinas Police Department’s homicide detectives. He also happened to be my old college fling. Until earlier this year, when we were reunited on a murder case, I hadn’t seen him in--um--a couple of years. (Whew, I almost dated myself.)
My thoughts turned from Nick to Lola, as she stopped at the reception desk. The hairs on her back stood on end, as if attracted to a magnet, and her growl was low and menacing.
Charles snapped his fingers and Lola dropped to the ground, but still on high alert. When I caught up to him, I looked across the reception desk to see a vaguely familiar face. It was Cortnie Criss, my new employee.
Cortnie had been an associate of Charles’ when they worked together at the Naval Postgraduate School, and he had recommended her when a position became available with our agency. She stood there, all five foot four of her, not the least bit intimidated by Lola. I guess with her black pumps, she actually stood about five-seven, and she looked fit in her black pencil skirt, bare legs, and a fitted black T-shirt. She had classic good looks that required only a bit of blush and possibly some mascara to look beautiful.
She’d been training for a few days, but this was the first time our agency mascot was being introduced.
“Lola, meet Cortnie.” He gestured to Lola, who rose to a sitting position and lifted her paw as if to shake. “Cortnie, Lola. I’m sure you two will become fast friends, because Lola loves everyone I love, and darling, I just love you.”
Cortnie wasn’t stupid enough to approach Lola and shake her paw. She looked down at the Doberman and smiled. “Pleased to meet you, Lola. I hope we will be friends.” She looked at Charles, “She’s not going to rip me to shreds, is she?”
Charles handed Cortnie a liver treat. “Step out here.” Cortnie did as instructed. “Now put the treat in the palm of your hand and hold it there with your thumb.”
Cortnie did as Charles said, and Lola’s growl turned to a whimper.
“Okay, turn your hand palm down and raise it to shoulder level.”
Cortnie complied, not at all hesitant.
“Meet Lola, your new best friend. Just say, ‘Lola, touch.’”
Cortnie said, “Lola, touch.”
Lola leapt from her sitting position and snagged the treat from Cortnie’s palm. It was a swift, yet gentle movement, and I had to give her credit for not flinching. She obviously trusted Charles implicitly.
Charles turned and looked at me. “See, I told you Cortnie was a gem.”
The phone rang just then, and Cortnie answered it. Lola trotted over to her and rested her chin on Cortnie’s lap. All was good in the Gotcha Detective Agency world.
“One moment, please.” Cortnie put the call on hold. “It’s Richard Clinton from HCM.”
“I’ve got it.” I rushed to my office, grabbing Charles by the arm.
“I don't need to be there. I've briefed Cortnie on everything she needs to know. She'll be fine.” He stood his ground.
“Charles, you ar
e sitting in on this call. It won’t last that long and you’re the expert with the technology we’ll be using.”
Charles grabbed Cortnie’s hand. “You need to join us. This is the case you've been reading about. We'll probably be using your surveillance equipment.”
Cortnie grabbed her iPad ® and joined us in my office.
I pressed the speaker button on my phone. Mr. Clinton got right to the point.
“I wanted to let you know that I’ve talked to our board, and we’ve decided to listen to your plan of attack.” He sounded much younger than his sixty-five years.
Clinton was the president of Hewes Chemical Management, or HCM Incorporated, a national chemical company. He suspected that chemicals were missing from his local warehouses and was considering using our agency for surveillance.
I looked at Charles, who knew the details of the equipment we planned to use, but he just looked back at me. He really wasn’t going to participate in this call.
“Mr. Clinton, I have Charles Parks, and another detective, Cortnie Criss, in here with me.”
“Hello, Mr. Clinton, I’m Cortnie Criss.” She sounded classy and sure of herself, and I liked that.
Cortnie had been hired to replace Gemma, who was a junior detective with our agency. Gemma had found true love and moved across the country, all in a matter of days. Cortnie’s expertise was in video surveillance, so this case was right up her alley.
I was pretty sure Charles hadn’t had time to get her up to speed on this account, as he hadn’t even remembered the call.
“Charles updated me on the situation this morning. So you think your local vice-president is padding his yearly bonus with chemicals from your company?” she said.
“That’s one way to put it,” Clinton said. “The inventory numbers seem to be fine, but the barrels in the warehouse don’t seem to match the numbers on the page. Then, when I mentioned it, the barrels were suddenly there again. So I dropped the inquiry, hoping that with enough time I’d see another discrepancy. Last week, something was off again.”
Gotcha Detective Agency Mysteries Boxed Set (3 Books) Page 37
