Chapter Four
Harry popped open a can of beer and sat down in front of his computer. His crotch was still tacky from the cum that hadn’t been properly cleaned off, but he didn’t care. Not enough to get in the shower right away at least.
He had to get this story written, and so far he couldn’t figure out whom to make the killer, or why. He needed a motive, something no one would suspect, but his mind was racing with thoughts of everything except his novel.
Unable to concentrate on writing, Harry called Sam. He had cut him off abruptly earlier when he found Tinkle, the cat, so he should at least call to say he was sorry.
“Hey Harry,” Sam said as he answered the phone.
“I wanted to call you back. I’m sorry I cut you off earlier,” Harry said.
“That’s ok. I know you were on an important case,” Sam said.
Harry loved how Sam looked at him, always with pride. But, apologizing for his abruptness wasn’t the main reason for the call. Harry needed his friend. He needed to tell him Claire had left him, and hear him give him all the reasons why that was a good thing, and not something to pout about.
“Claire left,” Harry interjected without prompting.
“Really? Where did she go?” Sam asked.
“Left, like for good…left me,” Harry said.
“Well, you know I think that is for the best,” Sam said.
“She didn’t even say goodbye. She just packed her stuff and left a note,” Harry said.
He knew he was looking for some pity, but he also knew that Sam of all people wouldn’t give it to him. Sam had never had a girlfriend, at least not one that was serious. He had hated that Claire got in between him and Harry, and now that she was gone, Harry was certain he was bursting with joy on the inside.
“She was standing in your way,” Sam said.
“You have plans, big plans, and she isn’t a part of them,” he continued.
Harry listened, taking in everything his friend was saying. He tried to shake off the fact that Sam was biased towards Harry being single and tried to stay focused on the fact that he may in fact be right about Claire. After all, she did leave.
“Do you need me to come over?” Sam asked.
Harry looked around at his messy apartment and his open laptop with no new words typed on the word doc.
“No, I’ll be fine,” he said.
“Did you Doracise?” he asked with a chuckle.
Harry turned pink, even though Sam couldn’t see him.
“Yes,” he said.
“That bitch is hot,” Sam said.
“You know she is doing that shit on purpose. She wants you to watch,” he continued.
Harry had entertained that possibility the last time Sam brought it up, but still wasn’t convinced it was true.
“I think she wants you,” Sam added.
Harry laughed. Sam always thought all women wanted him or Harry. The truth was, the woman had no clue who Harry even was, so there was little likelihood that she knew of Sam.
He had seen her outside once, carrying her garbage to the street at the same time he pulled his can to the curb. She didn’t even look up, no eye contact, no greeting, nothing. She just put her stuff on the curb and went inside.
Harry wanted to say hello, but he couldn’t get the nerve to speak. By the time he thought of something to say she was already gone back into her apartment complex.
“I doubt that Sam,” he said.
“So, did you break the case earlier?” Sam asked.
“Yes, just a missing cat.” Harry said.
“Just a missing cat? No, you found someone’s beloved pet. That’s a huge deal,” Sam said.
Harry knew it wasn’t really a huge deal, probably not even a big deal, but he liked hearing it.
“You really should charge for that shit, Harry,” Sam pushed.
“When you cracked the case about the car thieves, you should have been given a medal from the police station…” Sam said.
Harry knew that Sam was exaggerating. They weren’t car thieves. They were teenage boys stealing loose change and gum from the cars that were left unlocked. They never damaged any property, and no cars were ever stolen. It only took one night of hiding in the bushes to bust them, so a hero he was not, but a good neighbor he was.
“I can’t charge my neighbors,” Harry argued.
“So, take out an ad, find other clients,” he argued.
“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Harry said.
“You would make a great private dick, and I imagine they get paid pretty well,” Sam said.
“You think so?” Harry asked, looking for a bit more of an ego stroke.
“I know so!” Sam exclaimed.
“Ok, I’ll do it,” Harry said.
“Thanks, Sam,” he added.
Harry hung up the phone and moved back over to his laptop.
He pulled up Craigslist and started his ad.
Private Dick for Hire
No job too big or too small.
Satisfaction guaranteed.
Cash only.
He listed his phone number and his e-mail, hit send and then pushed his chair back away from the kitchen table.
He felt a sense of satisfaction as he read his ad over and over again.
The Bedroom Detective (Book 1 of 5) Page 4
