“Babe.” Removing my fingers, he shakes his head, adjusts his jeans, and heads back into the office while I trot down the stairs.
As I walk home, the sun peeks out, causing my reflection to pop up in the hardware store window. Damn, I really need to lose weight. Internally, I thank Ms. Bright because I decide right then and there, to start on my diet.
I can call Colin, my sensei, and restart my self-defense classes. For sure, that will help. My willpower almost slips as I walk by Mrs. Murphy’s bakery. With warm garlic bread wafting up my nose, I hold my breath, and rush by. Pleased I passed the first of many trials, I trudge up my front steps. Like an addict, I’ll need to go cold turkey, no carbs, no alcohol, and no eating between meals.
I got this.
“Yo, Joey. I’m back.” He doesn’t answer, so I follow the sounds of giggling in the garden through his open kitchen door and down the hall to the back.
My cousin looks up from where he pushes my niece and my son on the swings. “I’ll bring him up when he gets tired.”
“Thanks.” Upstairs, I kick off my shoes, replace the tight jeans with leggings, and breathe freely.
Catrina mews, bunches up my pants, and eyes me from on top of her new nest.
Given a few minutes to work without interruption, I press Jason’s green icon on my phone and the meme pops up. Today, the thirtyish bearded geek wears a Star Wars t-shirt, sports a trendy man bun and large, black-rimmed glasses. “Good afternoon, Samantha. How can I help you?”
“I have a missing persons case.” I open the fridge and start to pop a beer tab until I recall I’m dieting and choose a boring fizzy water.
“Should I bill Suds and Sam? By the way, your checking account is running low.” He blinks at me, waiting for me to respond.
“Give me a second.” Using the bank app, I deposit Ms. Bright’s check and pray it doesn’t bounce. “Can you give us thirty-day billing?”
“Of course. Proceed.”
“I need to find Chrissy Bright, last seen in Cheektowaga, New York.” I upload her picture and fill in a form with her address.
“She lives with her great-grandmother, Mrs. Oksana Zielinski. According to her mother, she’s been missing for two days. She could be a runaway or a victim of foul play.”
“What is the priority?” The virtual man blinks at me and cocks his head.
“Legal means only.” As I speak, Catrina hops on my lap, paws at the screen, and mews.
“I didn’t understand. Please repeat.”
“Sorry. That was my cat. We need to stay within the law, at least for now.” I push the ball of fur off my keyboard and pat her butt until she jumps on the floor.
“Thank you. I will log the sound for further investigation.” The meme types, looks up, and smiles. “I may need some time to locate the girl. Would you like to stay on hold?”
Given the state of my checking account and the cost of waiting, I opt for door number two. “No, call me back. Bye.”
“Thank you for doing business with Jason Two Thousand. Goodbye.”
Huh. I write myself a reminder to tell Dr. Jones about adding cat-recognition. I owe her so many favors, the least I can do is help her improve her amazing application.
While the AI searches social media and all things internet, I leave a message for my friend Frankie. Surely, a hitman would know if the teen’s mother had a price on her head.
With Jason doing the heavy-lifting, I’m free to book a flight to Buffalo.
A few minutes later, Joey knocks on the back door, sets my kid in the highchair, and shouts downstairs. “Is dat you, Rose?”
“Yeah.” She pops her head up and makes faces at the baby. “Hey Sam. How’s the PI biz?”
“I need to go north for a couple days. Do you suppose you could watch Mikey?”
My oldest cousin walks up the rest of the stairs and tugs the cork off the bottle of red sitting on my countertop. “Why? Is Suds working?”
She pours herself a glass and offers one to Joey while I open the refrigerator and search for something to eat with negative calories. “Yeah. He picked up a new bodyguard gig.”
