“We will need to collect the body tonight,” I said. “Bring her back to Savannah for Ace and Vanessa to try and figure out. Audrey should be on standby nearby…just in case anything happens, or police are called.”
“Shit, that’s going to fuck up my car…”
Trevor reached towards the back between our seats as he began shifting things around. I held up my binoculars and studied the small home from our safe distance. This is how I spent most nights when we were in the field, Trevor and I. Hewas in the driver seat while I watched and studied the area. He jokingly called it our date night but most of the time he was paying bills, looking over cases, or eating. Trevor Coleman was always eating.
“We made a cute kid,” Trevor said randomly. I almost put the binoculars down but continued to watch the house through the lens. I knew he was going through baby pictures of our daughter on his phone. He’s always doing that.
“Naturally,” I replied.
“I used to get women on a nightly basis…strip clubs, night caps, fucking in the empty offices… I mean, I was that dude,” he said proudly. “I had women going crazy for me. The clubs, Himora you should have seen the women throwing it back on me.”
“I’m sure,” I said, studying the windows as I counted each blind slat. She was missing one in the corner where it broke off.
“I mean it don’t compare to my life now…I love my naps with my baby but back thennnn? While you were going through those files, Ace and I were running the streets wild.”
“I was diligently working in my chosen field. Every few weeks I would have different man of my choosing to help relieve stress on my back by having intense sex that–––”
“Aight,” Trevor cut in. “Now you’re a mother and my wife. Tread lightly, wings.”
I put my binoculars down to stare at him as he went back to looking at pictures of our daughter. He was so easily triggered, and I couldn’t understand why if we were sharing past experiences.
“The sex was meaningless if you’re upset about that,” I said before looking back through the binoculars. “One of the male suitors claimed to have the ability to massage me from the insideout. I didn’t think I’d care for it, but it was very…. satisfying.” I could see Trevor staring at me with a dark expression as I continued to look at the windows through the lens. “She has 32 slats in her front facing windows for her blinds, but they all have a broken piece or gap. Isn’t that strange?”
I turned to look at Trevor who finally decided to relax and calm down. He cut his eyes to the house with a duck of his head.
“Just means it's lived in, that’s all…” He replied.
The notifications on my phone chimed off back-to-back in my lap when Trevor reached for the screen to check himself. I went back to looking through the binoculars.
“Neighbors have reported Cynthia Gloria Norwood, and the odd behavior displayed at night,” I said out loud as I continued to look through the lens, hovering over the door of the home. “Neighbor one reported just last week that they spotted Ms. Norwood leaving the house in a frantic state, with shades on and a disheveled look. She was most likely suffering through withdrawals or acute starvation.”
“Who the fuck is Juan?” Trevor asked. I put the binoculars back down to look at Trevor. His usual light complexion was darkened by the late summer season. His dark tight coils of hair were freshly cut along the edges. The dark brown eyes and smile usually set most women off in a daze when speaking to him. He’s the charming type I suppose, something one would read in a romance novel. Most women would fall and cater to his every need if given the chance. Trevor put my phone against his ear as he stared at me, his eyes darkening with emotion.
“This is Trevor Coleman speaking,” he said into the phone. I decided to grab my note pad full of drawings and began toflip through. “Yeah I know who the fuck you messaged. I’m her husband so you got my attention now.”
“Cynthia was reported dragging something heavy in the backyard of her home a few months ago,” I read out loud. “It was suspiciously heavy and in the shape of a body bag.”
“I don’t give a fuck if she–––Oh––Okay but you’re dealing with me now! What’s up?!” Trevor barked, sitting up in the seat. I tucked my orange hair just behind my ear as my bangs teased my lashes. My hair was trimmed just beneath my ears in a bob cut and my square glasses fell just into the nook of my nose, sitting perfectly against my face.
“If she spoke to you like a dog, guess who finna walk you like one?!” Trevor threatened. “Text her again on that bullshit and I’ma come see you!” He hung up, annoyed before turning his anger towards me. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going back and forth with the damn builder?! You should have let me handle that!”
“I asked him to do something according to the regulations, and he said no. I simply said your services are no longer needed. I didn’t realize it was a conversation, let alone a back and forth.” I adjusted my glasses again. With a small nod, satisfied with my response and how I handled it, I went back to looking at my notes. Trevor just stared at me before pinching his eyes with his fingers.
“Yeah…you are going to be the death of me…I swear…It’s going to say Himora’s husband died of high cholesterol, stress, and anxiety due to protecting his clueless yet brilliant wife.”
“Well that would be unfortunate,” I said plainly as I looked back at the house. My phone went off again as he quickly snatched the screen up. I could hear him switching through before the sounds of sex, moans and skin slapping filtered the air.
“Why is Vanessa sending you porn flicks?!” He barked with a crack of his voice.
“She is helping me pick an Only Fans account to subscribe to,” I said as I held the binoculars up, watching the neighbor’s house for any movement.
“She’s…wait, what?Youwatch porn? YOU? I’m your man! You got live porn right here with me! I’m with whatever! I’m as freaky as it gets!”
“Studies have shown that the traits of a good leader of a company is when they naturally bond with their subordinates,” I said before sitting back as I looked at Trevor. “I want the work environment to remain professional but comfortable.”
“Yep,” he let out as he dragged a hand down his tired face. He placed the phone back into my lap with a slow nod. “You are definitely going to be the death of me, Himora Clarke. How long are we going to wait before going in?”
I looked down at my notes, tracking the times where both Ms. Norwood and Ms. Davis left the house on nights like this. Sometimes the grandmother would return, forgetting something before coming back out. Sometimes Ms. Norwood would come back earlier than scheduled.
