He shakes his head. “Not that I recall. Could you be a little more specific?”
Okay, I obviously wasn’t prepared. I should’ve Googled ‘how to ask your husband if he ordered penis pills online’ before broaching the subject.
Our conversation is put on hold when a little girl screams. I run to the kitchen expecting blood or spiders or both but it’s only a toppled carton of orange juice which managed to coat everyone and everything.
As we race to contain the mess, I turn to my lifelong partner and state the obvious. “We need help.”
“Yes, ma’am. They got psychiatrists online. Want I should call one?” My husband grabs our little guy around the waist, and I grab the sticky cat by her scruff.
As I place the poor animal in the carrier out of harm’s way, it starts to yowl. This makes my niece cry harder, so I place her in a chair and squat beside her.
“It’s okay sweetie, mistakes happen. You can help me mop, then we’ll clean everyone up.”
“Kitty is dirty, too. She needs a tubby.” She puts her hands out and as I use a rag to wash her fingers, my tough guy laughs, and tousles her curls.
It takes almost an hour, but the orange juice fiasco finally ends. Now, Suds sits on the floor next to the kids and as we watch Sesame Street, I towel-dry a wet feline.
It’s time to face reality, I am not super woman. “How about we find a nanny?”
“I’ve been saying so for months.” Eyes on the screen, facing forward, he doesn’t turn, nor does he add a witty comment.
From this, I assume my man may be a teeny-tiny bit annoyed, so I try to make nice. “And, while we’re at it, we should hire a part-time detective.”
“What’s wrong with Joey?” His warm chuckle signals the end of his irritation and I smile back.
“Where do I start?” Leaning over, I whisper in his ear, so Kimmy won’t hear. “He’s an excellent stalker. Divorces R Us is a booming business, but he’s not the sharpest stick in the shed.”
“Honey, I’m way ahead of you. If you’d check your inbox occasionally, I sent you a list of names before Christmas.”
Chapter Five
Suds
I’m disappointed at how quickly sex disappeared from today’s agenda and yet encouraged at Sam’s willingness to change.
Gently, I push the cat aside, lift my ass off the floor, and scootch next to my wife. Chloe stretches in a down-dog, narrows her green gaze, then prances off, her tail held high. Hopefully, she won’t get even for taking her spot by knocking a glass off the countertop.
Before anyone else calls, texts, or presses the outside buzzer, I cup my wife’s cheek and turn her head away from the TV screen. “Sugar? I was thinkin’. If we accept Montclair as a client, we could include insurance fraud to our list of accomplishments. With more jobs flowing in, we can hire a nanny and an office assistant.”
She bites her lower lip and speaks so softly, I have to lean in to hear her over the movie’s singing pig. “I don’t trust him. He was holding something back. What if he figured out you guys blew up his truck?”
“It’s possible but I doubt it. We would’ve heard from the Feds by now. Relax. He’s fishing.” Images of that night in Michigan cloud my mind and I shudder. The job was to steal a rig and leave it for the FBI to find. Bullets were not supposed to pierce metal and land inches from my skull.
Sensing my unease, she waits for my eyes to focus before continuing. “But why us? There’s lots of other bigger and more prestigious detective agencies out there.”
My arm wraps around her shoulder and I tug her close. Having a real live Godfather in the family is a pain in my ass. “I’m guessing he’s assumed your Uncle Vinny was involved. After all, he started this nonsense by stealing the damn dolls.”
Heaving a sigh, she snuggles into my chest. “No good deed ever goes unpunished. We were so worried about getting the drugs off the street, we never considered how much those stupid AI puppets were worth. Do you think CloudTekToys knew the Chinese were using them to sneak opiates into the US?”
“Dunno, but it’s an excellent place to start our investigation, don’t you think?” Wishing we were alone, I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, lift her chin, and kiss the tip of her nose.
My prickly beard makes her face scrunch. “Aren’t we obligated to tell Montclair the whole story?”
“Nah. He’s hiring us to see if an inside person was involved in the theft of some AI playthings. The rest is on a need-to-know basis.”
“Split hairs much?”
“Only when necessary.” I kiss the worry lines on either side of her mouth. “We got this babe.”
