yes it was. And you could have been a little nicer, for the record.”
“Hey, I was fine. I was not about to fawn all over your ex the way you were.”
I rolled my eyes. “By no stretch of the imagination was I fawning over her. I was polite, like I always am to ladies.”
Seth pushed away from the windowsill and looked down his nose at me. “I saw you playing kissy face out there.”
He had slipped into what he calls his “extremely gay” persona, which I was glad to see, because he’s incapable of being very serious when he does. I was willing to cut him some slack, because I supposed being face-to-face with your boyfriend’s ex when she’s playing the damsel in distress could be a little unnerving.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” I said. “Come here, I’ll show you what playing kissy face looks like.”
I reached out to grab the collar of his t-shirt and pulled him into as hot a kiss as I could muster. He moaned and melted against me, so I figured I had it right.
When we broke, I asked, “You didn’t happen to notice if it looked like anyone followed her, did you?”
“I did notice,” he said, “and I didn’t see anyone. If there was, they were too crafty for me, because I was watching for that.”
“So was I. That’s good, I’ll tell her tomorrow.”
“You think she’s in danger?”
I shook my head. “I have no idea. None of the stuff sounds physically threatening, but I do think someone’s messing with her, and it could escalate.”
“Well, man, you know I’ll do anything I can to help, right?”
“I appreciate that,” I said.
“Damn straight. Now let’s go to bed and play kissy face.”
Chapter 3
When I finally chased Seth out of my apartment the next morning, it was ten past eight. He was late for work, but it was too early for me to get started. I fixed coffee, showered and dressed, and ate a quick breakfast. That used up an hour, and I still had a few more to kill before Salvatore’s would be open and I would be able to get to work on Gigi’s case.
In the meantime, I could get a start on Seth’s. I poured another cup of coffee, sat down at my desk and switched on the laptop. My commute was still the length of my living room because progress on the office downstairs was slow, and I had to fit his job in between paying work.
I ran a few basic background checks on Frank. I have some software and a couple of internet services I subscribe to, because they all have slightly different areas of effectiveness, and I can usually save a lot of time running several searches at once.
Not surprisingly, his credit was trashed. He had way too many credit cards, all maxed out, and the bulk of those had missing payments. One of them had already filed an order to garnish his wages. Not like that would do them a hell of a lot of good. The guy bounced from job to job. He was currently listed as a part-time employee of a remodeling company, but I knew for a fact he did a lot of his work for cash under the table. Just to round things out, he also owed back taxes.
Frank didn’t have too much of a police record. Mostly it was traffic violations, including a decent number of speeding tickets. Maturity must have seasoned him, though, because those were several years ago.
To get a really accurate picture of just how bad things were, I also ran a credit report on Molly. Her rating was starting to show signs of decline as well, and I figured Seth had good cause to be concerned. It was my experience, however, that cause or no cause, women didn’t typically give up a man until they were good and ready to. I didn’t bother with police records on her, because I knew damn well they would be squeaky clean.
I took out my notebook and wrote down the address where Frank worked, his truck’s license plate and description, since Seth had only ever referred to it as “that cheap-ass piece of shit,” and a few other pertinent details I thought might come in handy.
This was one of the more delicate cases I’d handled. Mostly because I knew Seth and Molly, and they were like family to me, but also because Molly stood a good chance of getting hurt. For whatever reason, she loved this guy, and making her see him for what he really was wouldn’t be fun for her. Personally, I thought he’d been using her since day one, but it wasn’t my place to say. We would have to tread lightly.
Gigi’s case beckoned, and either way, it was time to hit the streets. I was still a little early, but I thought it wouldn’t hurt to do some of the preliminary leg work, so I grabbed my phone and keys and went downstairs to the car.
The ladies were out on their patio, so I went around the corner of the building to say hello.
“Good mornin’, sugar,” Della purred with a broader smile than usual. Which is saying something, because Della Vinson Owen is a Southern belle who learned her craft well and has never once said anything to me that didn’t have at least a hint of innuendo in it. “Don’t you look all chipper and satisfied this morning.”
Ruth gave her a stern look and turned to me. “Dino, good morning. Wonderful day, isn’t it?”
“Ah, yes it is,” I said, watching the silent, but not entirely subtle battle of wills between the two. Ruth Fletcher is Della’s roommate, and they live upstairs next to me. She is ordinarily as down-to-earth and practical as you can get.
The other two women at the table were Adele Triggs and Fern Quigley, her sister-in-law, who shared the ground floor apartment. Adele owned the building and ultimately ruled the roost over all of us. She took a deep drag of her cigarette and blew out smoke. When I turned to her, she said, “Della wants to know who that woman was last night, and Ruth thinks she should mind her own God damned business.”
Adele is nothing if not blunt, but for all her gravelly ways, she’s a decent lady.
Ruth said, “Well, I wouldn’t phrase it like that, but yes, I have been trying to convince Della that we can’t be prying into Dino’s affairs. Especially considering the line of work he’s in.”
“Oh, is it an affair, sugar?” Della clasped her hands together with girlish glee. “She’s very lovely, and the two of you made quite a picture.”
“Della!” Ruth shook her head.
I chuckled and slipped my hands in my pockets. “She’s a client, Della, nothing more.”
“Oh, but she said you two were old friends,” Della countered, eyes twinkling. She’s not stupid, and she knew exactly what kind of friends we were. That was all I needed.
“You spoke to her?” I asked.
“I did my best to keep Della from grilling her,” Ruth told me. “We were having a nightcap out here last night when she came up to the door. She asked if we knew whether or not you were at home, that’s all.”
“I offered her a glass of wine,” Della said, “but the poor dear looked nervous and said she’d rather wait in her car.”
Adele
