“We can do it, Geri!” Pepe said.
“Yes, we can,” I replied.
Outside the office I set Pepe down again.
“Nice work, Geri,” said Pepe, swaggering a little as we walked down the hall. “We can buy mucho bacon with that money. And the case is right up our alley. This will be easy work for Sullivan and Sullivan, Private Investigators.”
Chapter 9
“You know, Geri,” said Pepe, as we drove away, “you should have gotten something in writing.”
“What do you mean?”
“It is something I learned from watching Court TV,” he said. “You must always get it in writing. Then if Jimmy G. does not pay you, you can take him to small claims court. Maybe you could even appear on Judge Judy.”
“That’s a good point, Pepe,” I said. “I’ll ask for something in writing next time. But for now, I guess I’ll just have to trust him.”
Pepe was quiet for a few minutes. “Still, I think there is something rotten in Denmark.”
I looked over at my little companion. “Pepe! You know Shakespeare?”
“Of course, I know Shakespeare,” he said. “Are you suggesting I am not an educated dog?”
“Well, no—”
“That I do not have the intelligence to understand the words of the Immortal Bard?”
“Pepe, I—”
“Do you know that Chihuahuas have the highest brain to body ratio of any dog breed?”
“No, I didn’t know that,” I said. “Believe me, I was not impugning your intelligence. It was just that I didn’t know you could read.”
“Oh, I do not read,” said Pepe. “How would I turn the pages of a book? I learn everything I know from watching the television. I find it muy informative.”
I decided to ignore that comment. Pepe was quiet again, then said, “Still I think your boss is some kind of flim-flam man.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But he’s the one keeping you in dog food right now, Pepe. So don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“I am only a foot tall. That would be muy difficil for me to do.” He looked up at me. “That was a joke, Geri. Get it?”
“Yes!” I laughed. He seemed pleased with himself. We needed the levity after everything that had been happening.
Jimmy G. told me that Stewart worked out of his home and gave me an address in Laurelhurst, a tony neighborhood north and east of the University of Washington. The leafy streets are lined with stern Tudors and proper brick houses set back on prim lawns bordered with perfectly trimmed laurel hedges.
I always get lost in Laurelhurst as all the streets twist and curve, no doubt in an effort to baffle those of us who don’t belong there. I found the address on a street that backed up against Lake Washington. I pulled up in front of it and stopped, my breath taken away. Beside me, even Pepe was silent.
When he finally could speak, he said, “This is not a casa,” he said. “This is a castle.”
Castle was a great way to describe it. It was built entirely of dark gray stone, a building material rare in Seattle, where most buildings are made of brick or wood. It had a round tower with a conical roof and banks of mullioned windows under overhanging eaves. On one side, a wide driveway led to a three-car garage, each section with its own painted green door and gabled front. A serpentine slate path curved across a pristine green lawn and ended at a huge front door, which was barred and studded like the entrance to a medieval fortress. Two panels of stained glass framed the door: one depicted a spring orchard in bloom, the other an autumn woods. When I pushed the doorbell, I could hear sepulchral chimes echoing inside.
It was a long time before anyone answered. I don’t know what I expected, perhaps a butler in evening dress or a housekeeper dressed all in black, but the person who answered the door was a lovely young woman, wearing a red, silk blouse and a tight, black pencil skirt that showed off her slim waist and long legs.
I introduced myself and Pepe, who was shivering beside me.
“Oh, this will not do!” she said firmly. “You cannot bring a dog into the house. Stewart is terribly allergic to dogs.”
I couldn’t afford to alienate my new boss, so I marched Pepe back to the car.
“You are not leaving me in the car, Geri,” he said. “I need to be with you to advise you.”
“I’m sure I can do fine on my own,” I said.
“You saw how useful I was back at Jimmy G.’s office,” he pointed out.
He had a good point. “Perhaps I can conceal you in here!” I pointed to my purse. It was my favorite bag: made of brown leather studded with gold brads, almost the size of a briefcase, and fairly sturdy.
“Geri, that is most undignified,” he said.
“Yes, but that is the only way I’ll take you with me,” I said.
“Oh, very well,” he stepped in as delicately as a princess, lifting his little paws high.
“Ow! Ow! Ow!” he cried. “Geri, you have many things in here that hurt!”
I pulled out my hairbrush, which seemed to be the most offensive item, and a few other nonessentials, tossing them onto the passenger seat.
“That is somewhat better,” Pepe conceded. I pushed him down, slung the purse over my arm, and clamped it to my side, then hurried back to the door.
The young woman was still waiting for me. She was stunning, with long, dark hair, chopped off at shoulder length so it swung forward with the gleam and bounce I had only seen in shampoo commercials. Her nails were a bright red and so were her lips. She said her name was Mandy and she was Stewart’s personal assistant.
She led me down a hallway paneled in oak, her heels clicking on the slate floor. The hallway opened up into a vast room with beamed ceilings easily three stories high. There was a huge fireplace built out of river rock in which the flames of a gas fire danced behind glass. On either side, floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of the dark blue waters of Lake Washington.
“This is the great room,” she said. Of course, it was a great room. I really hated that term. So pretentious.
The room was filled with rustic couches and armchairs plump with big cushions in a Southwest pattern. I could tell by looking at them that they were leased. All the seating faced a side wall on which hung a huge projection screen and, in front of that, a lectern stood.
“This is where Stewart does his presentations,” she said. “But he’ll see you in his office.”
She took a turn to the right, and we headed down a flight of carpeted stairs. Stewart’s office had the same incredible view as the upstairs room, but his desk faced into the room so when he sat at his desk, the light reflected off the lake seemed to frame him in a bright halo.
He stood up and came forward as Mandy ushered me in. Where Jimmy G. tried to project an aura of tough private dick, Stewart was the consummate gentleman. He wore a crisp, white long-sleeved shirt, a narrow tie with chevrons of maroon and gray, and a pair of flawlessly fitted gray wool pants. As he took my hand and patted it with his own, I got a chance to observe the silver Rolex on his wrist. It echoed the hint of gray in his sideburns.
The two brothers were certainly a study in contrasts. Where Jimmy G.’s face was round and ruddy, Stewart’s face was tan and square. Jimmy G. had tobacco-stained snaggle teeth, while Stewart’s teeth were perfect, straight, and flashing in a wide, white smile.
“What happened?” I asked, as I sank down into the green leather chair that Mandy indicated with a wave of her hand before leaving the room. “Your parents could only afford braces for one of you?”
I put my purse down on the matching chair beside me. I saw it wiggle slightly as Pepe got comfortable. I could even hear his mumbling inside. But I didn’t think Stewart noticed. He was too busy assessing me.
“You do have good powers of observation,” he said. “James told me that’s why he hired you.”
That made me feel good. Jimmy G. hadn’t told me that when he hired me.
“I’m surprised, really,” said Stewart. “My brother is n
ot known for his good taste.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of that. After all, Jimmy G. had hired me. On the other hand, I had to agree with Stewart. I decided to take it as a compliment. “Thank you,” I said.
I realized Stewart’s desk was elevated on a dais, so I had to look up at him. The ceiling was low and crossed with massive beams. The lighting was low, too, with a few recessed spotlights here and there around the edges of the room. The whole effect was of old wealth. All the details were correct—an oak bookcase full of leather-bound volumes, dark blue oriental rugs, hunter green wallpaper hung with oil paintings of dead animals: a brace of pheasants, a limp rabbit.
Stewart continued to study me, with his fingers pressed together in a steeple and his lips slightly pursed.
“You look like an intelligent young woman,” he said. “Why are you working for my brother?”
Again, with the compliment and the insult in the same sentence.
“It seemed like a good opportunity,” was all I said. I was not about to explain my desperation. My purse started to wiggle off the chair, and I grabbed at it before it fell to the floor. I could just imagine what Pepe would have to say about that. I put it on my lap instead. Unfortunately, this meant I could hear Pepe’s muffled comments.
“I have discovered I am claustrophobic,” he said.
“Well, I understand you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in a homicide investigation,” Stewart said with a frown.
Yes,” I said. “And I really appreciate your sending a lawyer to get me out of the police station.”
“Get me out of here!” said Pepe.
“It’s the least I can do,” he said. “I feel personally responsible.”
“You do? Why?”
“Well, you wouldn’t have been there if James had not sent you. And since James works for me, well, you became my responsibility.”
“So you own the detective agency?”
“Yes, it’s one of my many enterprises,” Stewart said. “Frankly, it’s just a way to keep James occupied. And he is not supposed to hire any employees without first notifying me. We have to make sure the paper work is correct. He did have you fill out the proper forms, didn’t he?’
Actually Jimmy G. hadn’t asked me to fill out anything.
Stewart noticed my hesitation. “I can see that he did not.” He picked up a file folder on his desk, and put it down precisely at right angles to another folder. “It doesn’t matter. We can take care of that this afternoon. Mandy has all the forms you need.” He moved the folder again, lining it up with the edges of the desk. “Of course, we will need a copy of your resume as well. I assume you have some experience.”
“No, not really,” I said.
“Tell him you have a partner,” Pepe said from inside my purse.
“How about training?”
“Tell him you are working with a trained professional!” Pepe insisted.
Stewart frowned and looked at my purse.
“Your purse seems to be talking,” he said.
“Oh!” I gave a carefree little laugh. “I must have left my cell phone on. Sometimes it does that. I’ll just check to be sure it’s turned off.” I peered inside my purse and shook my finger at Pepe. “Be quiet!” I whispered.
“I hope you understand,” Stewart was saying, “that we cannot take any responsibility for your actions until we have received all the necessary documentation, completed a background check, processed your forms, and made sure you have the appropriate training. You do realize that training is required by the state? I’m sure the police covered that in their interview.”
“Not really,” I said, though it helped explain some of their questions. I wondered if they could arrest me for practicing investigating without a license.
“Do they seem to have a suspect?”
“Tell him we think it is the wife!” said Pepe. “It is always the spouse.”
“Not that I can tell,” I said. “But it seems to me the wife is the obvious suspect.”
“But then why would she call my brother and ask him to look for her husband?” Stewart asked.
“Because she wanted someone else to find the body while she was out of town,” Pepe suggested.
“Because she wanted someone else to find the body while she was out of town,” I repeated.
“Well, if that’s the case, I suppose the police will wrap up this investigation quickly, and you will be in the clear.”
Stewart stood up. Apparently I was about to be dismissed. I stood up, too, clutching my wriggling purse.
“Meanwhile we must see that you get some training.”
“But—”
“I understand the UW offers a certificate program through the continuing education department.”
“I would love to take that, but I just don’t have the funds right now—”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Stewart said, coming around from behind his desk. Again, he took my hand in his, and patted it with his other hand. It would have been a comforting gesture except his hands were unpleasantly warm. “I’ll have Mandy set it up. We will, of course, be happy to pay for your tuition.”
“That’s very generous,” I said.
“You have to spend money to earn money. That’s what I always say.” Stewart held the door open for me. I tried to squeeze by without getting my purse too close to him. Nonetheless I saw his nose begin to wrinkle. “I can tell you’re going to be a valuable employee.” He gave me a wink, and then the door slammed behind me. A few moments later I heard him sneeze.
“He’s hiring you?” Mandy sounded both shocked and horrified. She had her own desk in a cubbyhole of a room across the hallway from Stewart. Her view was not as stunning as his. She looked out on a bank of tall juniper hedges that made the room seem dark and cold.
I had obviously interrupted her in the middle of a phone call. She was holding the receiver to her ear.
“Not exactly,” I said.
“Then what did he mean by that?” she asked. I could hear a tinny voice jabbering on the phone.
“I don’t know.” It was puzzling.
“I think he recognizes your talent, Geri!” Pepe said. I beamed. It’s really nice to have your dog believe in you. Or, wait a minute, was that sarcasm?
“Look, I can’t talk right now!” Mandy said into the phone. “Call me back in ten minutes.” She slammed down the receiver. Her desk was bare except for the telephone and a gold pen. Either she was an efficient secretary or she didn’t have much work to do. There was not a scrap of paper in evidence anywhere.
“He said you could give me some personnel forms,” I said.
“That can’t be!” she said with a frown. “We’re not hiring anyone. He would have told me if we were.”
“I’ll be working for the Gerrard Detective Agency,” I said.
“Oh!” She sounded relieved. The tension left her shoulders. “Good luck with that!”
She got up and rooted around in a tall metal file cabinet in the corner and then handed me a sheaf of papers. “You can fill them out and mail them back to me. Or drop them by.”
“Stewart said you could enroll me in a training program through the UW,” I said.
“Oh, really!” She sounded amused. “Like you will last long enough to make that worthwhile.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Jimmy G. goes through employees like”—she paused, looking for a good metaphor—“like he goes through money at the racetrack. If it wasn’t for Stewart bailing him out constantly, he’d be on the streets. I don’t think he’s ever closed a case. And the longest anyone ever worked for him was—let me think—two and a half weeks.”
I tried not to look dismayed. “How do you know that?” I asked.
“It was me,” she said with a shrug. “Luckily after Stewart saw how well I was taking care of Jimmy, he decided he wanted me to work for him.”
“So you were his girl Friday?”
“Oh, that’s what he calls all his female e
mployees,” she said. “But he’ll soon have you answering phones and typing up reports and taking out his trash.”
“He’s already sent me out on two cases!’ I said proudly.
“Luring unfaithful husbands into compromising positions so Jimmy can take photos of them?” Mandy asked.
“No!” I frowned. Though frankly, I couldn’t really brag about being asked to take photos of a dog in a compromising position. “Is that what you did for him?”
“Yes, that’s Jimmy’s specialty. Infidelity. Mostly wives who think their husbands are cheating. He would use the photos either to blackmail the husband or collect his fee from the wife, depending on which party had the most money.”
“Very clever,” said Pepe. “I would not have thought him capable of such a scheme.”
“Oh,” I said, “that sounds unethical to me.”
“Totally,” Mandy said. “That’s why I was so glad Stewart hired me. He pays me twice as much and the work here is so much more uplifting. We’re helping people live their dreams, not capitalizing on their misery.”
Chapter 10
“Where are we going?” Pepe asked, as I pulled onto the freeway heading north. The rain had started again, and I turned on my windshield wipers.
“I figured we’d check out this Mrs. Snelson,” I said.
Pepe protested. “You promised we would go back to the Tyler residence.” He sounded wistful.
“I know,” I said. “We’ll swing by there later. I’m worried the police might still be on the scene collecting evidence, and I don’t want to run into them again.”
“Me neither,” said Pepe with a shudder.
“Why is that, Pepe?” I asked.
“Geri, I bit one of them,” he said. “They do not like me. Besides, they consider me evidence.”
Dial C for Chihuahua Page 5
