Hard Job: Reightman & Bailey Book Two

by Jeffery Craig

  “What kind of staff, Toby?”

  He turned to the address her question. “Madame Zhou, we need someone to be in the office when we’re out finding lost cats and tracking down deadbeat dads, or whatever it is we’ll end up doing to make this thing work. I know it’s not going to be glamorous and I’ll do whatever I need to make it a go. But, we need someone to make appointments, answer the phones and do the basic administrative work.”

  “I see your point. Do you have someone in mind?”

  Toby thought about who his immediate choice would be and thought it would be perfect. “Yes, I do. I think SarahJune would be good at everything we need. Sure, it’ll be totally different from working at the front desk in the spa, but we’re all going to be learning as we go, and so can she.”

  Zhou Li inclined her head slightly and gave him an approving smile. “I’ll agree to that, Toby, and I’ll factor in the appropriate expense. I think she would be an excellent choice as well. I will even submit since the work she will be doing is more demanding, she should get a reasonable increase from her former salary. I am confident we can work out the details to everyone’s satisfaction.”

  Melba decided she could live with his new conditions, although she hated paperwork. “I agree also, Toby. I’ll even, grudgingly I admit, agree to learn the business side. It wouldn’t be fair to you otherwise, and I might as well learn all I can.”

  “We are making excellent progress,” Zhou Li said delightedly and clapped her tiny hands.

  Melba didn’t want to dampen anyone’s enthusiasm, but needed to make something clear. “You haven’t heard my final condition, Madame Zhou. My final condition is you will not interfere directly in any case unless we ask you to do so. You’ll be involved in all of the general aspects of the business, of course, and I think you should always know the general nature of anything we’re working on so you can advise us as needed, and provide your unique insight. But, when it comes to the actual workings of a case, you’ll have to agree to stay out of the detail and let us do our jobs.”

  Reightman could see the surprise in Zhou’s eyes, but her underlying expression wasn’t shock, or disappointment or anger. Zhou Li approved of her words.

  “Very good, Detective! I am proud of you for insisting on that, and I will admit that sometimes I meddle just for the joy of doing so. On this point however, I am happy to agree. I will always be willing to offer insight or advice if needed, but I agree to – as you say – stay out of the details.”

  Each of them looked around the table, gauging the reactions of the others. “Do we have an agreement? Zhou asked, satisfied by what she saw on their faces.

  “I think we do, but I want to sleep on it. If I don’t wake up screaming at the whole idea, I’ll take it as a positive sign.”

  “I like it, “Toby said, “but, I agree we should sleep on it. Is that alright, Madame Zhou?”

  “Yes, it is and I approve of the suggestion. A good night’s sleep before making an important decision never hurts, and often helps.”

  Another crash came from the studio, this time accompanied by loud and audible cursing. Reightman heard the wooden beads crash together, announcing the entrance of an obviously agitated man. She gave him the once over as he entered the back room. He was about six feet tall, she decided, and his eyes – of some indefinable color – were flashing with irritation. As she watched, he flipped back his hair – worn in a long, thick braid – over his shoulder, and stopped short at the sight of the people seated in the room.

  Zhou Li gave him a small nod of acknowledgement and looked up into his flushed and angry face. “Is something the matter, Jon?”

  Her calm tone seemed to settle the man and he bowed in her direction. “I apologize for the interruption, Auntie Zhou. I didn’t realize you had guests.” Reightman saw him straighten the high-necked black tunic he wore and tug down the long sleeves as he tried to make himself more presentable.

  Zhou Li allowed him a moment to get himself in order. “Please let me introduce you to my guests, Jon. This is Detective Reightman, currently the senior Homicide Detective for the City Police Department. Detective, this is my great-nephew Jon Chiang, whom I mentioned to you earlier.”

  Reightman shook his hand, noticing his firm grip and realizing his eyes were gray. “How very unusual,” she thought as she released his hand and reclaimed her seat. “He doesn’t bear much resemblance to Madame Zhou, and I’d hazard a guess he’s not fully of Chinese descent.”

  Zhou turned to Toby. “Jon, please allow me to make known to you, Mr. Toby Bailey. Mr. Bailey owned and operated one of the city’s premier new spas, located across the street.”

  Reightman watched as the two men shook hands and then broke away quickly, as if their hands had generated some kind of electrical charge. There was a startled expression in both pairs of eyes, as if they’d recognized someone unexpected.

  After the social forms had been observed to her satisfaction, Zhou Li continued. “As I believe I mentioned to you, Jon, Mr. Bailey has closed his business due to a series of unfortunate events far outside his control. Detective Reightman is also in the process of leaving her current employment. I have been working to convince them to join me in a new business venture.”

  “And they haven’t agreed yet? You must be losing your touch, Auntie Zhou.”

  Zhou Li bridled at his tone. “Jon Chiang, I’ll remind you, pleasant impressions are made through good manners.”

  Jon had the grace to be embarrassed by his flippant and sarcastic comment. “You are right to remind me, Auntie. My apologies to you, and to your guests.”

  “Thank you, Jon. I’ll let it pass this time.” Although her tone was firm, Melba could see the faintest hint of a twinkle coming from the eyes behind the thick-lensed glasses. “Now, I believe you must have rushed in here for a reason, if the sounds coming from the studio were any indication. Is there something I can help with?”

  “I ask for forgiveness for all of the noise, Auntie. I have been trying to manage some of the larger crates by myself, and I find them to awkward to handle alone. I was wondering if you might know someone who could help me for a few minutes. They are somewhat heavy, but it is more the size which makes them impossible for me to handle without additional help.” Reightman could tell the admission was difficult for the man. He looked very strong and capable, and it almost certainly hurt his pride to ask for help, especially in front of strangers.

  “I can help,” Toby offered.

  Jon Chiang met his eyes and then looked away, uncomfortable for some reason. “I appreciate your offer, Mr. Bailey, but I couldn’t take you away from Auntie Zhou. It would be unforgivable.”

  “Madame Zhou, is there anything else we need to discuss right now?” Toby didn’t look toward Zhou as he asked his question. His eyes were firmly on Jon Chiang, who was searching the room for anything to settle his own gaze on – as long as it was not Toby Bailey.

  “I believe we are finished for now, Toby. After you and Detective Reightman have had time to think over our discussion, we will get back together to answer any additional questions and handle any concerns which may have arisen. We can then formalize our agreement. Is that acceptable to you both?”

  “That’s sounds fine to me, Madame Zhou,” Reightman answered, as she watched the silent interaction between the two men.

  “Thank you, Madame Zhou. If I might be excused, I will be happy to help Mr. Chiang with the crates.”

  “That would be much appreciated, Toby. Will his help be sufficient, Jon?”

  Jon snapped his eyes to Toby’s face and then turned back to his Aunt. “Mr. Bailey’s help would be much appreciated, Auntie, and will be sufficient to get the crates moved.” Jon Chiang’s voice as he answered her sounded slightly dazed, as if he was wondering what was happening. He turned to Toby, and bowed slightly. “If you would follow me, Mr. Bailey,” he said softly, “I’ll lead you to the crates.”

  As Toby exited the room, Melba heard him begin his now familiar spiel, “
About that Mr. Bailey stuff, I’d prefer you to call me Toby.” She was unable to hear Jon Chiang’s response, but she knew from experience that Toby would eventually get his way, regardless of any possible objections. Melba mulled over what she’d observed in the last few minutes, then picked up her cane, and stood. “Since we’ve finished, I think I’d better go for now, Madame Zhou. I find myself tiring much faster than I did before my injury.”

  “I understand. It will take a while longer to be back at your full strength. Your body is using a lot of energy to heal itself. Let me walk you out to the front, Detective. I want to pull a few things from stock so I can work on this tea blend further. I am not quite satisfied with it, yet.”

  “What are exactly are you attempting to capture with the tea, Madame Zhou?” Melba asked her, intrigued with the possibilities.

  Zhou looked up with her dark eyes and considered Melba for a minute before answering. “If you wouldn’t mind, please tell me what you sensed in the tea, and then I will answer.”

  “Well, I can’t describe the ingredients, but I think I can describe what I tasted.” She hesitated, thinking about what she might say. “This may sound foolish.”

  “Nothing about tea is foolish, Detective. Please share what you sensed.”

  “Alright, I’ll give it a shot.” Melba closed her eyes and tried to remember the taste of the tea. She described what she’d tasted, thinking back to the day Moon had asked her how she felt wearing a particular set of clothing. She opened her eyes and looked at the old woman, who was gazing back at her with surprised eyes.

  “I am astonished, Detective! The first three are exactly what I was hoping to invoke. The fourth, which you describe as healing, is almost, but not quite what I am trying for.”

  “What are you trying for, Madame Zhou?”

  “I think I will keep working on the blend some more, before I share my goal. I wouldn’t want to spoil it by giving myself away. I hope you will indulge me, Detective.”

  “Of course I will, Madame Zhou,” Melba answered, knowing she really didn’t have much choice in the matter. Zhou would only share her secrets when she was ready, and not one second before then. She bent down awkwardly to give the woman a brief hug. “I’ll call you in the morning to give you my decision.”

  “Thank you. I will await your answer with anticipation. Please get some rest, Detective.”

  After she’d shown her guest through the door, Zhou Li gathered a few herbs from the shelves, and turned to walk back toward the beaded curtain. She paused in the doorway of the studio, and watched the two men standing inside the bare, unfinished room. They’d finished moving the crates, and were now talking quietly together, with grave and serious expressions. Their eyes were troubled, she noticed, and their postures were closed and guarded, as if each was prepared to defend himself from an unexpected attack. However, as she watched, they leaned closely together, sharing private thoughts with each other. She smiled as she noticed their eyes never left each other’s face, even though the expression on each was carefully neutral.

  She parted the wooden beads, and took a seat in her chair by the dragon table. She sipped her tea, sampling the flavors as she thought about Melba Reightman’s descriptions. “Hope” was correct, as was “promise”. The bittersweet taste of “loss” which faded slightly with time – after the heat of despair had cooled – was also correct. She was very pleased with the perceptions of her protégé. She took another drink, striving to capture the final element. “Healing” wasn’t quite what she was striving for, but maybe it had to come first, to balance the flavors appropriately before the final quality could emerge. She sipped again, searching once more for that final thing she was hoping to find in the taste of the tea. It wasn’t there yet, she eventually decided. But, before she was done with the blend, it would be.

  

  Later that night, Toby called Reightman at home.

  “So, I was wondering…”

  “What were you wondering, Toby?”

  “Well, I was wondering, since you aren’t going to be a Detective anymore, and we’re going to be partners and everything… what do I call you?”

  Reightman lifted her mug of tea to her mouth and took a sip. Then she made a suggestion.

  “Really?”

  “Really. Now, it’s late, so I’ll say good night now, Toby.”

  There was a moment of comfortable silence before he replied, “Good night, Melba.”

  As she put down her phone and raised the mug again, the smell of jasmine rose around her, and she smiled.

  Acknowledgements

  I hope that you enjoyed this second book in the Reightman & Bailey Series as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  I’ve continued to learn about the world of book publishing and as HARD JOB comes to the end, I’m reminded again that books might get written in isolation, but they don’t make it out of the computer and into a reader’s hands without the writer getting a lot of help and encouragement. Once again I need to thank two close friends: Dr. Rhea Ann Merck, and Julia Prater.

  Rhea helped immensely as I delved into the damaged mind of John Brown and as his character unfolded, I relied on her to point me in the right direction to help us all understand what made him the man he was. I took a lot of liberties with the information she so generously provided, but nonetheless, he wouldn’t have appeared on these pages without her help and guidance.

  Julia agreed to take up her purple ink pen again to search for and destroy my typos and incorrect word usage. I always quake in fear when I open the notebook she returns to me, but thankfully this time around, there wasn’t as much purple on the page. She always has excellent observations and points out inconsistencies that need to be resolved with humor and grace and is ready to offer me a glass of wine when needed.

  I’m so thankful they are some of the first readers of the words I put on the page and can’t find the words to show my true appreciation and gratitude. I’d also like to thank other good friends and supporters who bought my first book and who listened to me talk about this one while it was underway. Their support guides me back to the keyboard day after day for another round of writing.

  I have to give a special shout out to Kathy LaLima of LaLima Design for another outstanding cover. She listens to my concepts and then politely tells me where the problems are, then sets about solving them. I couldn’t ask for a better collaborator to help me bring these characters to life.

  The world of writing is a fascinating one. I was fortunate that I came from a family who enjoyed reading and taught me to do the same. A good book doesn’t always solve the problems in front of me, but it does allow me a moment of escape and reflection. While I always enjoyed a good story, I never realized what it took to get a book into someone else’s hands. As I struggled through the process and seemingly endless steps, I was fortunate to have the best support of all – that of my husband and partner, CPK. He continues to help me solve my technology problems, reads the multiple drafts and kicks me in the pants when I need it. I am so very, very lucky.

  About the Author

  Jeffery Craig is the writing pseudonym of the author and is used for fictional works. Jeffery resides in the southeastern United States and shares his life with his husband and partner, and a menagerie of much loved pets. For several years he worked an executive providing technology and consulting services to help clients meet their business needs. He’s an avid supporter of the arts and co-owns a local art gallery/gift store that provides an outlet for area artists and craftspeople to showcase and sell their work.

  When he isn’t writing, he might be found working on a painting or enjoying the covered porch of his historic southern home with a good book in hand. He can be contacted via his webpage (www.jefferycraigbooks.com) or on social media.

  Coming Soon!

  Skin Puppet

  Reightman & Bailey Book Three

  Toby’s head hit the hard wooden floor as he went down – hard. He rolled and pulled himself to his knees, groa
ning at the effort. He knew he had to get on his feet fast or he’d be finished. He shook his head, trying to clear his dazed mind, and in the process scattered bright ruby-red droplets around him. The sight of the blood distracted him for a minute, bringing back a host of images and bad memories from the last time there’d been blood on the floor. He touched his split lip gingerly and then struggled to his feet and turned to face his attacker.

  The man in front of him was standing a few feet away, eyeing him with emotionless gray eyes. He was about the same height as Toby, but probably had twenty or so pounds on him – all of it muscle. The gray eyes narrowed and the man shifted his blunt wooden stick from hand to hand. Before Toby was anywhere near ready, he attacked again. Toby dodged out of the way, trying to get into a position he could defend. “Damn! This guy is fast!” he thought as the thick wooden stick came at him from the side. “I don’t think I can hold out much longer.”

  He quickly glanced to the side where his friend and partner, Melba Reightman, was trying to get up from the floor. She looked like she was in pretty bad shape herself. He didn’t have the time or the energy to spare her much thought, and he had to keep his attention on the stick. She’d have to look out after herself.

  They’d been ambushed the minute they’d walked in. Neither of them had been prepared for the fury of the surprise attack and had barely managed to fling themselves out of the way. They’d regrouped and for a minute or two, it looked like they had the upper hand. That had seemed perfectly reasonable. After all, there were two of them and only one bad guy. Boy, were they wrong about that!

  He dodged again, trying to avoid another hit and flinched as a fist came at his head from the other side. He lunged out of the way, desperately trying to catch his breath while thinking about his next possible move.