Bloody egotistical doctors, I didn’t need Reines on my case!
Harlequin
“That’s nine-fifty,” the cashier said as I grabbed my coffee and doughnut.
I handed over ten bucks and put five in the tip jar. The barista smiled as I left the busy shop. A week had passed since I’d last seen April, but she was constantly on my mind. Even when asleep, she invaded my dreams. Tired and irritable, I headed towards the building where Slaughter had set up his business and entered.
Marie, the receptionist, looked up and offered a brisk nod as I made my way to my office. On the desk was a pile of folders, and I sighed. Working for Slaughter as a PI and security expert was challenging, but I loved the work. I’d taken several courses on installing cameras and worked for six weeks with Dylan Hawthorne’s team.
South Dakota was a no-state license to be a registered Private Eye. But I’d owned one before in North Dakota. It had been hard, but I’d completed the required two thousand investigative hours and passed the exam. Slaughter, like me, another guy andtwo women he’d hired, held licences from other states as well. Without a licence, Slaughter wouldn’t hire anyone. Slaughter claimed it was too risky.
Wearily, I sat down and opened the top folder. There was a sticky note from Marie ordering me to do the paperwork so she could file it. I chuckled. Marie was a stickler, and she’d stand over me if I didn’t finish the reports on time. There were three folders in total needing my final signature and notes. Under those were several new cases.
One was a missing teen, aged eighteen and barely a woman. The next was a suspected wife cheating, and the third was a possible situation of insurance fraud. I shoved the latter two to one side and opened up the missing girl. Slaughter always conducted the initial interviews, taking notes before passing the cases on. I read through and discovered he’d covered the basics. If I took the case, I’d do a more in-depth interview with our client in this instance—the father.
Julie Rogers had last been seen six months ago. From all accounts, she was a good girl and didn’t cause much trouble. Darren Rogers was divorced, and Julie lived with him. She had a boyfriend she’d dated through high school, who was preparing to attend college. Julie was doing a two-year local course in African American artefacts before looking at universities. According to Mr Rogers, Julie was last spotted walking home from the library. Then she disappeared.
Mr Rogers had called the police when she was five hours late, and they’d begun searching straight away. It was a myth that you had to wait twenty-four hours to report a missing person in South Dakota. Although the police had reacted immediately, there’d been no sign of her.
A picture fell was clipped to the front page that Mr Rogers had provided. Julie had a wide smile and was glowing with health and happiness. Her hair was naturally curly andhung past her shoulders. Chocolate-brown eyes were lit with amusement, and her skin was perfect. Julie was a beautiful girl. Beside her stood a young African American male who was also laughing. I guessed that was the boyfriend.
Picking up the insurance fraud file, I checked what it was. Someone who was claiming megabucks for being wounded on the job. I sighed; these were often boring. Usually, a lot of time was spent hanging around, waiting for the idiot to slip up and prove the injury wasn’t permanent. Oh well, that’s life.
I got to my feet. I didn’t want the cheating-wife case. Slaughter could pass that on to someone else. Heading towards his office, I was surprised to hear shouting. Curiously, I paused and checked on Marie in reception, and saw a guy leaning over, bellowing in her face.
“Back the fuck up now,” I ordered, moving quickly in his direction.
He moved backwards and held his hands up. “Dude, I ain’t here to cause trouble, but Marie needs to return my shit.”
Marie looked guilty and then squared her shoulders.
“What’s going on?” I demanded.
“This is my ex-boyfriend. Asshole wants something he left atmyhouse. I’ve told him he can fetch it when I’m home,” Marie explained.
“Marie, I don’t see why you won’t give me your keys,” the guy complained.
“Because it’s her property. Marie doesn’t have to hand over her keys on your demand,” I replied.
“But I need it,” the guy whined.
“Collect it tonight, I’m not leaving work for it,” Marie stated.
“That’s fair enough, now leave,” I ordered. The ex-boyfriend sent me a dark look, but backed off and left.
“Whatever you have, give it back, Marie; that wasn’t professional,” I commented, and she grimaced.
“Sorry, Harlequin. It just rankles that he cares more for some old doll than he did me.”
“Doll?” I asked, amused.
“It was his mom’s. Guess it’s mean to keep it,” Marie muttered.
“Yup.”
“Fine.” Marie sighed.
I nodded and headed toward Slaughter’s office. He was on the phone when I entered, so I went to back out, but he waved me in. Slaughter ended his call and rolled his eyes.
