What a Meth Read online

  “Well, you’re here, so what is it you need?” I smiled, trying to be more patient.

  She looked around, as if someone was spying on us, and said, “My Jeff is cheatin’.”

  It took every ounce of energy I had to not roll my eyes. “Did Cortnie tell you what our fees are while you were waiting?”

  “Please, just listen. This is why I gots to see you today.” She paused.

  I waited and leaned forward, putting my elbows on the desk, trying to look interested in her story, the one she couldn’t afford me for.

  “I been noticing a pattern with Jeff. On Thursday when I walked our girls to school, I seen him leave the house earlier than usual. He goes down the street in the other direction and around the corner. His old girlfriend lives on that street.”

  I listened.

  “He’s cheatin’. I got three kids, ain’t got no job, and he’s cheatin’ on me.” She started to cry, I mean really sob.

  I looked closely at her as I started to pull a tissue from my drawer. I stood and leaned over my desk to hand it to her.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t think you came to the right place. We’re very expensive.”

  She jumped up so fast I was knocked off balance as I backed away. “Look.” She pulled wads of money from her small purse. “I got five hundred dollars. What’ll that buy me?”

  She wore garage sale clothes, tweaked like a junkie, and was throwing, literally throwing, five hundred dollars at me. This didn’t add up.

  I pushed the twenties into a pile in the middle of my desk and started to stack them. “It’ll get you half a day, but you can’t afford this.”

  What the hell was I thinking? I couldn’t afford to turn away money. But she couldn’t afford to be paying me.

  She shoved the money at me with force. “Take it. If I had more, I’d pay just to be done with it, to be sure.”

  “Why can’t you just follow him yourself?” This whole situation had me on the ropes.

  “Because he done it before and he lies his way out of it. He tells my parents and his I’m crazy. I’m not crazy. I need proof, so I can tell his parents I’m not crazy and they’ll believe me.” She dropped down into the chair, seemingly exhausted and twirled her long auburn hair with her fingers.

  I put the money in a pile on the desk. “Like I said, this will get you half a day. I’ll take your money, but if I don’t find something out in that half a day, it’ll be a waste.”

  “Half a day is enough. I promise, he be prowling in the morning.” Alyssa’s energy was renewed as she jumped from the chair and tossed a photo of her husband on my desk. “I gotta go. The girls get out of school early today and my mother-in-law borrowed me her car to go pick them up.”

  She turned and nearly skipped to the door. I yelled after her. “I need an address.”

  2

  I got the address from Alyssa and made a mad dash to the staff meeting in the kitchen.

  When I walked into the room, Charles Parks, my business partner, looked pointedly at me and shook his head.

  “What?” I asked, annoyed.

  “Please tell me you sent that…woman out of here without a second thought.” The look on his face showed he knew I didn’t.

  I grabbed my favorite oversized cup from the cupboard and poured myself a cup of coffee, turned around and leaned against the counter, taking a soothing sip before I answered.

  Jackie, Cortnie and even Lola stared at me. They were waiting for an answer, too.

  “I took her on as a client,” I said.

  In stereo, Charles, Jackie and Cortnie said, “What?”

  Even Lola was dismayed as she let out a groan and shook her head. I stared her down. How dare she take sides! She dropped to the floor and rested her head on her paws, still looking up at me.

  “She had cash,” I defended myself. “Cold, hard cash. Five hundred dollars.”

  Charles jumped up and got in my face. “Where the hell do you think a woman like that got that kind of cash, Mimi? She’s a tweaker. That is dirty money.”

  I leaned toward Charles, who had long since failed to intimidate me. “I. Don’t. Care.”

  Jackie intervened. “What do you mean you don’t care?”

  Charles and I looked at her.

  “If that’s drug money, we just laundered it for her. Does that make us criminals?” She seemed truly concerned.

  Cortnie smiled at this question. “Actually, it’s not a crime to spend the cash someone gives you. It’s a crime if the money has been seized and then it gets spent. Because in reality, you don’t know how she came into that money. Maybe it was a gift from her husband, mom, or lover.”

  I glared at Jackie and Charles. “Yeah, what she said.”

  Charles paced the few steps across the kitchen and back. “I don’t like it. You’d think if a girl like that had five hundred, she’d be buying drugs with it. I mean, did you see her? I haven’t seen anyone tweaking like that since I was in the 7-11 in Prunetucky.”

  Prunetucky was Charles’s nickname for Prunedale, which is located due north of Salinas. Back in the day, and even still today, though not as much, Prunedale was the poor man’s property. There would be a half-million dollar home next to a single-wide with a junk yard for landscaping. With the real estate boom, the area became less single-wides and more estates. Then the bubble burst and many estates were now in foreclosure.

  “Funny you should mention Prunedale. The address she gave me is located off of San Miguel Canyon Road. Sound familiar?”

  Cortnie stared blankly, but Jackie and Charles understood.

  Jackie said, “The candle place.”

  The candle place had meaning to Charles and Jackie, but Cortnie hadn’t worked for us back when Jackie had been having problems with her daughter Catey, and we’d stumbled upon a pedophile.

  Charles noticed Cortnie’s lack of comprehension first. “It was a case we worked before you came on board. I’ll explain later.” Then he turned to me, “What was that lady’s name, the one with the shotgun?”

  I laughed at the thought. That lady was tougher than Charles and me combined. “I’d have to look it up. But she was a piece of work, wasn’t she?”

  “I’m thinking she was more skilled with that shotgun than we knew. She was protecting something.”

  “Maybe. But that’s history.” I looked around the room. “Anyone want to accompany me tomorrow morning?”

  Suddenly everyone had someplace else to look, other than at me.

  “Fine. Whatever. I’ll do it myself. It’s just a cheating husband case.” I added more coffee to my cup and started out of the room. “Meeting adjourned.”

  Charles asked, “What’s the address?”

  “Why, are you going to join me?”

  “No, I’m just curious, that’s all.”

  I recited the address from memory. “I’m out of here.”

  Charles grabbed my shoulder. “Not so fast. We have a lot of cases coming up and we need to discuss who is taking what.”

  I turned on Charles. “Good. You three can figure out how to handle them and write me a report.”

  I was being stubborn, and I knew it. I was mad that they didn’t back my decision to take the client. But I couldn’t always be around to hold everyone’s hand, so they could work without me.

  Jackie said, “Mimi…”

  “No, no Mimi about it. You think you know what’s better for this company than I do, so you figure it out.” I left the room.

  I wasn’t in my office for more than a minute when Cortnie knocked softly on my door. I looked up to see her smiling face.

  “Can I come in?” She walked in as she asked.

  I still wasn’t ready to concede. “What?” I snipped at her.

  “We decided to move the meeting to tomorrow morning.” She sat on the chair in front of my desk.

  “Good, I won’t be here tomorrow morning.” I fired up my laptop to finish updating my files.

  “No problem. I think I have everything under cont
rol as far at the cases we’re working. I wanted to let you know I’ve narrowed the candidate for receptionist down to three people. Did you want me to start setting up the interviews?”

  Cortnie, all five feet four inches of her, was a force to be reckoned with. She was hired by the agency for her superior surveillance skills, but went above and beyond. She’d pretty much spent her time, when not working cases, setting up our office to function in the twenty-first century.

  I looked in her big brown eyes and saw sincerity. I felt horrible for forgetting the interviews. “I’d forgotten all about that.”

  She grinned. “That’s why you pay me the big bucks.”

  I knew I wasn’t paying her what she was worth, and she knew I couldn’t afford to, but someday…

  “Would you mind doing the first round of interviews, and then we can have serious candidates come in for a team interview?”

  “That sounds like a great idea. I’m going to be in the office all this week and next, working on a new program for our decoys, so I can just do the interviews during that time.” She stood.

  “New program for the decoys?” There was always something going on that no one had told me about.

  She sat back down on the edge of her chair. “Didn’t Charles tell you? I got us a contract with the police department. We’re going to be providing them with the decoys for the vice squad.” She was giddy with the news.

  “Are you serious? I’ve been courting them for more than a year and hitting a brick wall.”

  “I know!” She seemed a bit too excited about my lack of progress. “But I got a meeting with the Chief of Police and showed him some of my new equipment and software, and they’re on board. We’ll be training the decoys they hire after we iron out the kinks, but until then, we’ll be working the streets. Soledad Street, to be precise.”

  Anyone who has ever been to Salinas knows we’re famous for lettuce and John Steinbeck. You can’t miss the gargantuan museum erected in his honor; it’s smack dab in the middle of town. Steinbeck made Salinas famous in his book The Grapes of Wrath, and Soledad Street happened to be mentioned in that novel. Steinbeck called it “the red light district” in his books, and it’s still called that today. Though a bit of this has spilled over to Kern Street, too.

  “This is terrific. I can’t wait to start implementing it.” I’d forgotten how mad I had been.

  Cortnie stood again. “I’ve got work to do, but I wanted to tell you the news, since I’d planned to talk about it in the meeting.”

  As Cortnie walked out of my office, for the first time I felt like Gotcha Detective Agency was going to make it. We’d been gaining credibility ever so slowly, and now we had a contract with the police department. All was right with the world.

  When I left the office that night, I felt whole for the first time since I lost my husband. Little did I know that feeling wouldn’t last through the next twelve hours.

  3

  I usually hit the snooze button several times before finally dragging my ass out of bed, but today I had to be up before the sun to get to Alyssa’s house in time.

  Knowing it was going to be a rough morning, I’d set my clothes out on the chair in my bedroom the night before. Comfy black stretch pants with a long-sleeved black shirt and a matching hoodie. I even decided matching black bra and panties would be a good idea. You never know…I may have lunch with Nick later.

  I was hoping I’d get up the nerve to tell him about Dominic. I’m not sure what I was avoiding, because I was sure it wasn’t really him, and Nick would probably agree. But Nick’s aversion to adultery scared me. If he thought we were committing adultery, I was sure we’d be through.

  Not that we weren’t already on the way to being through. I’d been avoiding any situations where we were together alone. As much as I loved having sex with him, I felt like I was cheating. Oh, this whole not knowing was so unfair. But it was how I’d started every day since The Sighting. Instead of waking up happy to start a new day, and anticipating being with Nick, I was filled with apprehension. Closure, one way or the other, I needed closure.

  Lola barely stirred as I sat up in bed. She looked up at me from her fluffy pillow, then put her head right back down, figuring I was only getting up to pee.

  I was up and at ‘em for the day, like it or not, though I sat on the edge of the bed contemplating going back to sleep. My eyes burned from the restless night and yearned to close tightly as I lay my head back on the pillow. No! I was not going to lie back on the pillow! I was getting up.

  I slapped my face lightly a few times, trying to snap myself out of sleep mode. I stood and dragged my feet as I stumbled my way in the dark to the bathroom.

  “Never again,” I said aloud, as I dried off and slathered lotion over my body.

  Why had I taken that woman’s money when I knew I didn’t want to be up this early? Because you needed the money, stupid, I reminded myself.

  I looked in the mirror only long enough to see that I didn’t have any toothpaste foam still on my face. I didn’t have time to put on makeup and do my hair, so I used my fingers to comb my wet locks up on top of my head and secured the wadded mess with a brown hair tie.

  I pulled my black hoodie over my black shirt and grabbed a granola bar on my way out the door. I was just about to shut the door when I remembered Lola was still in bed. She apparently wasn’t a morning girl, either.

  “Lola, come on, let’s go.”

  She didn’t even stir. I had to go back to my bedroom, grab her by the collar, and drag her outside. Once she did her morning duty, she was wide awake and raced me to the car.

  Prunedale always fascinated me. It was a mix of old hippy and new money, and they lived together in relative harmony. To be honest, if I wanted to live in the country, this was the last place I’d live. I’d rather drive the extra miles and live in Hollister, or even Gilroy.

  But I’m a city girl, and I’d even planned to sell my house and buy a condo when I retired. Retirement should also mean you don’t have to mow the lawn or pull weeds. But then I wasn’t sure I wanted to share a wall with my neighbors either. No worries: retirement was a few hundred years in the future for me.

  As I drove the roads toward my destination, I was amazed at how the more things change, the more they remain the same. Cliché, I know, but true.

  Staking out a house in a tract home neighborhood is much easier than in the country. Prunedale is considered country, since the houses can range from one hundred foot lots to one hundred acre farms.

  If I’d been driving down the right roads, I’d have seen hillsides of strawberries growing right next to a horse farm. Yep, this was country living at its best.

  The address Alyssa had given me was on a street of small acreages. I could see the house from the street, and wondered how on earth they could afford the rent. I’m assuming from Alyssa’s appearance they didn’t own the property. It was a narrow road, with only dirt shoulders, so there was nowhere for me to park while I observed. But I could see the house from the road easily.

  Her house sat up off the road about fifty feet, a dark brown house that looked to have at least three bedrooms. There was a building that looked like a workshop or in-laws quarters up on the hill behind the main house, and the rest of the property was a steep hill reaching beyond the workshop. Since the large door was open, I could see two cars in the garage. I thought Alyssa had said she had to borrow her mother-in-law’s car because they only had one.

  Across from their home was a horse farm, with a dozen horses grazing lazily on hay from their feeders. The farm was clean but run down, with chipping paint on the fences, and a few broken boards. Next to the farm was a million dollar McMansion. Why would someone build such a nice home next to a horse farm? Ugh, the smell.

  Overall, the neighborhood seemed way out of Alyssa’s price range. The hairs on my neck rose. Something was very stinky, and it wasn’t the horse manure.

  Good thing I was early, as I had to drive up and down the street looking for
a location that wouldn’t get me noticed, or run over. I ended up parking in the driveway of a house that had no cars. I figured they must have already gone to work for the day. I hoped I was correct. I didn’t want some housewife calling the cops on me.

  I had to watch from an angle, but that was good, because I wouldn’t be as noticeable. As I watched the property, I realized I was looking at the wrong house, because Alyssa walked out of a smaller guest cottage behind the house.

  She had her daughters in tow, and it looked as if her girls had been lucky enough to shop at the same garage sales as their mother. I wondered if they were teased in school for their clothing. I chastised myself for what I was thinking; she was probably doing the best she could with what she had. But then she paid me five hundred dollars to follow her husband, when she could have spent that money on food, clothes, or whatever for her family.

  Alyssa still wore her pajamas and slippers. Really? She was taking her kids to school dressed like that? What kind of example is that for your kids?

  The girls, all elementary school aged, held hands as they walked down the long driveway and turned onto the main road. I knew they didn’t have far to walk, because I’d driven past the elementary school twice while trying to find a place to park.

  I understood why she walked them to school. It was a winding road with narrow shoulders, and a car could accidentally take a turn too wide and hit someone walking along too close to the asphalt. As they rounded the corner out of site, I turned my attention back to the house.

  I could see stirring in the main house, but I didn’t see anything in the cottage. I reached in my glove compartment and pulled out a set of binoculars. Even with the added help, I saw nothing happening in the back building. If her husband was awake, he was avoiding the windows.

  I waited, and waited, and waited, but no one ever exited the house. If her husband was cheating, he decided to take today off. I felt bad that Alyssa had wasted her money. The door never opened, and I saw no movement before Alyssa headed back up the hill toward her home.