by Gerri Hill
She blew out her breath. She didn’t think she had the stamina—or patience—to do this every night until someone made a move. Apparently money wasn’t an issue with Honeywell. She doubted he would pull her, just because of the cost.
She rubbed her eyes. It was 3:24.
* * *
Dee punched her pillow for the fifth and final time, finally giving up on the sleep that eluded her. She sat up, rubbing her face with both hands. She couldn’t get the mysterious Michael Drake out of her mind. Who was he? More importantly…where was he?
She yawned as she went into her kitchen and turned on the Keurig. She blinked several times to clear her blurry vision. Was it really only 4:15? She blew out a tired breath and ran a hand through her hair.
Who was Michael Drake? She tilted her head. And who was Finley Knight? She was hard to read. Did she have secrets or was she simply a private person? Finn was younger than she was, she guessed. Attractive in a dark, quiet sort of way. Her offer of having dinner was more out of curiosity than a desire to go out with the woman. For one thing, she assumed they were far too much alike to actually consider dating. And two…she didn’t have the time or energy to devote to dating. Nor the inclination, really. She was nearly forty-six. Her job was her life…her life was her job. Sad but true. Of course, she knew if she met the right woman, that would change. It had been so long since she’d been in love with anyone, she no longer even thought about meeting the right one.
Her thoughts went to Angela. She’d been the right one. Dee still looked back on their relationship fondly, even though Angela had been the one to end things. Angela couldn’t deal with her being a cop. Angela couldn’t deal with the long hours, the long absences, the fear that Dee would end up dead.
Dee shook her head slowly. Ten years ago Angela had ended things. On December 24th, it would be ten years. She reached for her coffee cup, seeing the steam swirl above it. Hell of a Christmas present. Angela said she still loved her…but. Always a “but,” wasn’t there? Yeah, Dee had had her heart ripped out that night. After that, Houston simply wasn’t big enough for both of them. They had too many mutual friends, too many things in common. And Dee couldn’t handle going out and seeing Angela with someone else.
She got hired on in Corpus Christi a year later. Her captain had made some calls, pulled a few strings, and now here she was, a detective, nine years on the force. She’d been born and raised in Houston, but she had to admit, Corpus felt like home now. She knew her way around the city like the back of her hand. She had good relationships with the guys, with her captain. And she went out sometimes. Sometimes they ended up in bed. Occasionally. She was happy. Happy enough. She didn’t need to have someone in her life. It was so much less complicated.
She sipped her coffee, her gaze going to the dark window above the sink, absently noting the raindrops sliding down the pane.
Yeah…she was happy enough.
Chapter Twelve
Finn wasn’t in any hurry to get back out to the furniture store. She figured if anything went down, it would be after midnight, not at eight o’clock.
“We haven’t been out fishing together in a while, Finn.”
“I know, Sammy. We’ll get to it. Soon.”
Sammy reached out and took one of the packets of ketchup from the pile. “You look tired.”
“I am.”
“You’re living off coffee and junk food. No wonder.”
“I’m living off four hours’ sleep,” she countered as she bit into her hamburger.
He shook his head. “You’re never going to make it to my age if you continue living like that. I keep telling you, you need to find you a nice young woman to take care of you.”
“I know you do. But I’m used to being alone. What in the world would I do with some nice young woman in my life?”
He looked at her sadly. “When my Isobel died, I thought my chest would crack right open from the pain in my heart. I wanted it to, I tell you that.”
She already knew the answer, but she asked the question anyway. “How long were you married?”
“Fifty-two wonderful years,” he said wistfully. “Got hitched when we were eighteen. She wasn’t sick a day in her life, I tell you. Why, I remember…”
Finn let him ramble on as she nibbled at her burger. She knew the story well. Seventy years old and dropped dead of a heart attack. The kids were already out of the picture by then. Sammy couldn’t function on his own, and he lived on the streets for nearly two years. Then on that fateful day, ten years ago now, he showed up on her doorstep, willing to work for some food.
“You need to find you someone like that.” He leaned forward. “Your eyes, Finn, they’re almost lifeless. You need to find you someone to love. Bring some joy into your life.” He paused. “Like that detective woman, maybe.”
Finn smiled. “I thought you said I needed to find some young woman. Detective Woodard is older than me, I imagine.”
“I think she fancies you.”
No. While Dee had casually offered dinner, Finn didn’t get the impression she “fancied” her in the least. The look in her eyes was nothing more than friendly. “She did ask me out to dinner. Well, she said I should call her if I wanted to grab a meal sometime.”
Sammy’s eyes crinkled up as he smiled. “See there! And here you sit with an old man like me. You should have called her up.”
Finn glanced at her watch. It was 8:33. “I’ve got to work tonight, Sammy. Every night, it seems, until I can bust this.” She looked up at him. “Remind me not to take a case like this again.”
“You know what you need, don’t you?”
“I do not need another investigator working here. I can handle things.”
“You do need someone working here with you. I heard you on the phone turning down a job.”
“Yeah, I have to turn some down, but not often.”
“What was it?”
“Cheating husband. I sent her over to Hanson.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin, then tossed it on top of the remaining burger. “I’m making enough on this case that I can afford to lose a client. Especially if this drags on much longer.”
“If this drags on much longer, you’ll be sleepwalking.”
“Maybe it’ll end tonight, Sammy. I got a good feeling.”
Chapter Thirteen
“I’ve never been here before,” Dee said. “And that’s saying something. I like to find these hole-in-the-wall places. They’re usually very good.”
“This place has been here twenty years, at least,” Finn said as she reached for her beer mug.
When her good feeling from last night turned out to be nothing, she’d taken Sammy’s advice and had asked Dee out for an early dinner. Coming here to Paul’s Bar and Grill was the first thing that popped into her mind. It was casual and usually crowded. It was so obviously not a romantic dinner.
“How are the steaks?” Dee asked as she looked over the menu.
“I normally stick to seafood, but I have had the chicken fried steak before. It was good. They say the chicken fried chicken is excellent although I’ve never had it.”
Dee closed the menu with a nod. “I think I’ll try that. You?”
“Seafood platter. There’s always enough for leftovers. I’ll take that with me tonight while I’m working.”
“What kind of case this time?”
Finn hesitated. She wasn’t used to sharing work details with anyone. “Nothing exciting,” she said vaguely.
“What? Confidential?” Dee took a swallow of her beer. “Or is that your standard reply when people ask.”
“People don’t normally ask.”
“I see. So what led you to become a private investigator?”
“I was bored being a security guard.”
Dee laughed. “You left CCPD to become a security guard?”
“No. I left CCPD because I wasn’t very good at following orders.”
“Good enough that you made detective.”
Finn leaned h
er elbows on the table. “Why were you checking on me?”
“I suppose because you’re not very forthcoming with information.”
Finn nodded. “So how’s your case coming? Any luck finding Michael Drake?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“And you’re going with the assumption that he’s your killer?”
Dee stared at her. “Now who’s fishing for information?”
“Just curious, of course. I certainly don’t miss doing police work that much that I want all the gory details,” she said truthfully. “Daniel Frazier was a client. I’m naturally interested in there being closure in this case.”
“Well, I’m not really able to discuss the case with you. I’m sorry.”
“No problem. I know there are rules and protocol to follow. I was never very good at that, unlike you.” She motioned to the waitress, indicating they were ready to order. She declined a second beer, opting for tea instead. She still had a long night ahead of her. And if Detective Woodard wouldn’t answer questions about the case, Finn wondered if she’d be open to more personal questions instead. “How long have you been with CCPD? I left ten years ago. I’m assuming after that.”
Dee nodded. “Nine, actually. I was in Houston before that.”
“Detective there as well?”
“Yes.” She paused only a moment, as if deciding whether she wanted to elaborate or not. “A bad breakup sent me running, I’m afraid. My captain was able to get me on here. He’s good friends with Captain Mabanks.”
“Ah, yes. Captain Mabanks. He wasn’t my biggest fan,” she said, remembering all the reprimands he’d given her.
“He’s retiring soon, he claims. I can’t say anything bad about him. He’s always been very fair with me.”
“Obviously you follow the rules and take orders well.”
“Most of the time, yes. I’m pretty much a stickler.” Dee folded her hands together. “What’s the real reason you quit?”
“I…I didn’t like the constraints of the job.” That was mostly true. She certainly wasn’t going to tell Dee Woodard that her father had come back from the grave, leaving her money and a house on the bay. And an old rundown building on Moonlight Avenue.
“I would imagine there were more constraints being a security guard.”
Finn smiled. “Yes, well, that lasted all of six months.”
“And being a private investigator, I suppose there are very few constraints.”
“I have a lot more freedom on how I obtain the information I need, yes. No worries about a judge throwing out evidence. People pay me for information. They don’t care how I get it. Unless, of course, my clients are attorneys. I have a few.”
Dee nodded. “A lot of ex-cops get in the business, I understand.”
“Yes. The largest agency in Corpus—Hanson Investigations—has several ex-cops working there. Most, in fact.”
“You know them?”
“Yes. I’ve had my share of run-ins with them.”
“I see. Competitors.”
“Yes. But in my opinion, they’re not very thorough. Like I said, they’re the largest. They rush through jobs to get on to the next one. I’ve had quite a few clients come to me after not being satisfied with their work.”
“If you don’t mind me asking…how old are you, Finn?”
“I don’t mind, no. I turned forty this past summer.” She raised her eyebrows. “You?”
“Forty-five. It seems odd to say that out loud,” Dee said with a quick smile. “I sometimes think I’m still thirty-five.” The smile disappeared. “And then again, some mornings, I feel downright old.”
“I know what you mean.”
“Do you date?” Dee asked expectantly.
“Date?” Finn shook her head. “No. I keep crazy hours, as I’m sure you can relate.” She glanced at her watch. It was nearly eight. “You?”
Dee shook her head. “Not really, no. I go out occasionally, but…no.”
“You said a bad breakup. Did that turn you off to dating?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Another quick smile from Dee. “Angela. Her name was Angela. She didn’t like me being a cop. I had no intention of quitting, of course, so…she quit me instead.”
Finn nodded. “That’s often the case.”
“Have you had a similar experience?”
“No.” She left it at that, finding no need to tell Dee Woodard that, at age forty, she still hadn’t met anyone she wanted to share her life with. There had been no relationships, no long-term dating, no girlfriends. She wasn’t looking. Had she ever truly looked? After her father’s death, her sole focus had been getting through the academy, being a good cop. She didn’t worry about there being love in her life. And at age thirty, when the envelope was delivered, her world essentially changed. Still…there’d been no one. She’d spent the last ten years building up her agency, not taking the time for personal relationships. And the years had slipped away so fast, they were almost a blur.
“You’re an attractive woman, Finn. Why don’t you date?”
Instead of giving the excuse she used—late nights and crazy hours—she decided to be honest with Dee. “I guess I’ve found I function better without a partner.”
“A loner then?”
She never really had put a label on it before, but… “I suppose that’s a good word, if we’re looking to define my status.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. A lot of people prefer their own company to that of others.”
“And you?”
Dee laughed. “No. I’m not a loner by nature and I enjoyed being in a relationship. I just don’t take the time for it now.” She paused. “An excuse, of course. If there was someone, then I’d make the time. Maybe I am still a little gun-shy because of Angela. Broken hearts at our age take longer to heal.”
Their meal was served, sparing Finn from commenting. When she was younger, she did often wonder what being in a relationship would be like. Now? It never crossed her mind. Her opportunities to meet someone were few and far between. No. She didn’t even think about it anymore. As she picked up a fried shrimp, her mind was already on the laborious night that was ahead of her. But then there was a flicker of memory, a vision of blond hair, a charming smile…soft lips that had nibbled their way across her body. The young woman from the bar seemed to be crossing her mind more often lately.
With a nearly silent sigh, she pushed the memories of that night away, biting into the jumbo shrimp instead.
Chapter Fourteen
Once again, Finn chose a different spot to park, two blocks from the loading dock. With the security lights shining directly on the dock, she had a perfect view with her binoculars. She set them on the seat beside her and rolled her shoulders. It was 11:17 on a Thursday night. The hours ahead of her loomed long.
The dinner with Dee Woodard had proved to be uneventful and rather stress-free. She wouldn’t imagine they’d have a repeat even though when they parted company, Dee had said she’d enjoyed the meal and their conversation.
Finn hadn’t been out to dinner with anyone—a woman—since way back in early spring when Catherine, an old acquaintance from her days on the force, had called her out of the blue. Catherine had just broken up with her girlfriend of six years. After their dinner, Catherine had wanted to have sex. Finn had gone through the motions, feeling almost dirty afterward and wishing she hadn’t answered the call in the first place. That had been in March. The last time she’d slept with a woman was, of course, the young blonde she’d met at the bar. That night had been the complete opposite of how she’d felt with Catherine. She’d felt totally alive during the encounter. She’d wondered at the time—if the woman hadn’t run out on her, would she have tried to see her again, maybe even date? But the woman had run out on her and she hadn’t been to the bar since.
Dee gave no indication that she was interested in anything from Finn other than to share a meal. For that, she was thankful. While she’d had a handful of friends when she was s
till at CCPD, those had dwindled to none in the last ten years. Other than Sammy, her solitary life was just that. Did she even have the energy—or want to—to forge a friendship with Dee Woodard? She supposed having someone to grab a meal with occasionally would be nice.
She leaned her head back and sighed. Ten years had sure slipped away fast. Where had they gone? She made a good enough living. Having cases like this padded her bank account. Not that she had to worry about it much. Her father had left her enough to live comfortably without having to work.
Moonlight Avenue Investigations. She remembered the day she’d started. She’d gone two weeks before a client came calling. The woman had come to her because she was an unknown agency on a dead-end street. She didn’t want her husband—or anyone else—to find out she was hiring an investigator.
Jessica Sanderson had had a baby while she was in high school. A girl. She’d given her up for adoption. Her husband had no idea. They had three kids of their own.
Finn had found the girl, then nineteen, in north Texas, attending a community college. She’d taken photos of the young woman, gotten all the information that Jessica had asked for. When Finn had presented it to her, a mere four days later, she’d broken down in tears. That had been Finn’s first lesson. Women cried, men got angry.
She never knew what Jessica Sanderson had done with the information. Did she go to Denton and try to connect with her daughter? Did she share it with her husband? Or did she simply hold on to it, keeping it to herself? That had been her second lesson…what clients did with the information she gave them…wasn’t any of her business—or her concern.
That was ten years ago. She didn’t remember all of her clients, of course. Some stood out more than others. Some cases were more unique than others. Cheating spouses were her least favorite, however. She smiled wryly. Of course right now, while staring out at a furniture store’s loading dock, she’d probably rather be spying on a cheating spouse.
