Tagged, You're It (a novelette) (Gotcha Detective Agency Mysteries)

by Jamie Lee Scott

  TAGGED, YOU’RE IT

  (a novelette)

  A Gotcha Detective Agency Mystery

  by

  Jamie Lee Scott

  Copyright © 2013 by Jamie Lee Scott

  Published by Ryan Lee Inc.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  Chapter 1

  Anyone who has lost a loved one knows, the holidays are tough. From Thanksgiving to Valentine’s Day, I’m in a constant state of turmoil, terrified someone is going to invite me to a holiday party, where I have to pretend to be happy while my heart still aches. Lucky me, I work with Charles Parks who loves the holidays more than life itself. His favorite? Christmas, of course.

  There was no way Charles was going to let me hate his favorite holiday. And to be fair, I don’t hate Christmas; I just feel better when it’s not around.

  Good old Charles, my partner in crime. Actually, he’s my partner in hunting down cheats (insurance, workman’s comp, spouses, and various other cheats) and solving crimes. Or should I introduce him as Charles Stewart, because I swear he thinks he’s Martha Stewart’s son.

  The leftover Thanksgiving turkey hadn’t even gotten cold in the refrigerator before he’d put up Christmas decorations in the Gotcha Detective Agency offices. He started with an evergreen swag over the front entry and matching wreaths on the double doors. Then he proceeded to the entryway, which of course had mistletoe hanging just inside. This from Charles who wasn’t a touchy feely guy at all.

  This year he decided the color theme would be turquoise and white. Charles would never go for the traditional red and green, and if he did, I’d worry about his sanity.

  The ten foot tall white tree stood in the window our reception area. The floor to ceiling bay window offered a terrific view of our tree from the outside. No fake trees for Charles, but the poor tree was flocked within an inch of its life with that fake snow stuff.

  I only wished my mom was here to see the spectacle, because I think Charles pales in comparison to my mom’s love of Christmas. This year she decided to spend the holidays, and I do mean all of the winter holidays, with my sister Anne in Arizona. She and Charles would have oohed and awed over the tree together. I had to admit, it was a site to behold.

  Charles had spent several weeks before Christmas cooking fake sugar cookies in the shapes of snowflakes, and had frosted them with white, cream and turquoise frosting. He even took the time to add the little silver balls to many of them. They were stunning.

  In addition to the snowflakes, he’d strung turquoise beads like garland, and even added multi-colored (all shades of turquoise, of course) streamers.

  Within the tree and in bowls around the room were glitter covered pine cones, foam balls, and boxes that looked frighteningly similar to the Tiffany’s jewelry box. I have to give him credit, there wasn’t a Santa or snowman in sight, and for that I was thankful.

  Yes, it’s my company. Yes, I could have put my foot down. But if you knew Charles, do you really think it was worth the argument?

  So I went along and for about a month I’d been looking at the colors of turquoise and white. It wasn’t the decorating that threw me for a loop; it was the announcement that he was going to throw a “shindig” for New Year’s Eve. I was fine with an office gathering for Christmas, since we usually went to a nice restaurant for lunch, where I gave out presents and bonuses. But I wasn’t sure I was up for a late night party, not even a small one.

  The consolation? The day after Christmas, Charles took down all of the decorations and replaced them with silver and gold for his “Silver & Gold” themed New Year’s Eve party.

  The Christmas wreaths on the front doors had been replaced by those with gold leaves and silver balls, and there were matching wreaths in the reception area. Over the hearth he’d placed a narrow gold runner with silver tassels under white candles with gold and silver buttons pushed into the wax. Maybe he really was Martha’s long-lost son.

  Large silver platters and crystal bowls were filled with holiday balls. I don’t have to tell you what color. He’d even climbed up on a ladder and attached paper snowflakes, stars, champagne bottles and glasses to the ceiling. He’d hung them with fishing line, so it looked like they were suspended in mid-air.

  Looking at the decorations, I was impressed with Charles’ taste once again, but knew this wasn’t going to be a small party. This was Charles we were talking about, and nothing about him was small. When I got a peek at his guest list, I had to remind him what small meant.

  “Oh no, the fire department will shut us down. This house can’t hold that many people.” I slammed my fist on the desk for emphasis.

  The fist to desk move just made him laugh. “This isn’t the party list, it’s the naughty list Anthony and I make every year. It’s all the people we know who did something naughty. I sent them all a bag of coal. Candy coal.”

  “Nice.” I could imagine the black dye staining everyone’s mouths, teeth, and lips. Holy shit, it was a long list. I wasn’t sure I even knew that many people. I was also relieved I wasn’t the naughty list.

  “I promise no more than twenty-five, thirty people at the most.” He pushed his list aside and kicked his feet up on the desk. “I like it intimate, but enough people so everyone has the chance to embarrass themselves.”

  “I can handle that. But who is going to clean up afterward?” This was a good question, because Charles liked to make the mess, but rarely cleaned up after it.

  “Taken care of. I’ve hired a cleaning crew and I’ve also got the food covered, since I know that’s your next question.” He laced his fingers together behind his head and grinned.

  I was afraid to ask, but I did it anyway. “What’s on the menu?”

  Charles reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a folder. “I’ve decided to do a buffet, so people can mingle, which will make them drink more. I love when everyone gets drunk and spills their secrets.”

  I was surprised Charles had anything on paper. He’s an electronics guy through and through. “A folder? Really? Where’s the iPad?”

  Charles flipped open the folder. “Some people never change, and this catering company still does things the 1940s way.”

  I leaned in close to look at the menu.

  “We’re offering hors d’oeuvres, mixed herb toasted nuts to go with an assortment of cheeses, crackers and olives.” He stopped and looked at his phone that just lit up.

  “That’s it?” Cheap ass.

  He put his phone back down. “The main course will be spice-brined turkey with a pomegranate glaze, turkey dressing, herb and cream infused mashed potatoes, arugula salad with goat cheese, green bean bundles, toasted pecans and cranberry vinaigrette, and cornbread stuffing with caramelized apples and fennel.”

  I was drooling. “Did you get to taste test this menu?” Because if he did, and I wasn’t invited…

  “No. I’ve used their services in the past, and I just know
what’s good.” He flipped the page.

  “Good, because I was going to be jealous.”

  “For dessert, there will be single serving pies, you know they look like pies, but are much smaller. I chose the pecan pumpkin with cinnamon caramel sauce. And just to be trendy, there will be an assortment of cupcakes.” He looked at me and grinned.

  Cupcakes were my kryptonite and Charles knew it. I loved him for that.

  “I should’ve asked you about the menu weeks ago. Then I would have had time to bump up my exercise to get ready for this party.”

  Charles looked me up and down. “Right, like you’ve been exercising outside the bedroom.”

  I smacked him on the back of the head. “Jerk.”

  Charles rubbed his head. “Well, as long as your boy toy doesn’t care.”

  Now for the really important question. “Open bar?”

  Charles stood. “Follow me.”

  We walked through the building to the kitchen where Lola, my Doberman, decided to join us, and out the back door. Charles grabbed his keys from his pocket and unlocked the massive swinging door to our three car garage. No one ever parked in there, so it was full of everyone else’s junk.

  Just inside the door were a dozen cases of sparkling wine.

  “I’ll be offering a delicious pomegranate champagne cocktail, and all the bubbly they can drink.” He reached around one of the cases and pulled out a case of sparkling grape juice. “For the teetotalers.”

  I was proud of Charles for remembering that Nick didn’t drink. Nick Christianson, a homicide detective, was my current fling. I hesitated to call him my boyfriend because I didn’t want to jinx it.

  “What’s going on out here?” Jackie Baccarin, my best friend, and employee joined us.

  “Charles’ party. He’s giving me the low down,” I said.

  Jackie peeked in the garage. “Damn, wish I’d known about this. I’d have dipped into the stash.”

  “Which is why I just let you know about it today. Oh, and I also changed the lock, just in case.” Charles closed the door and relocked it.

  “I’m excited. This’ll be fun.” Jackie was downright giddy. This wasn’t like her at all.

  “What’s with you? You don’t even like parties.” Had she been drinking already?

  “This is a Charles party. Something fun always happens at a one of Charles’ gatherings,” Jackie said. “Besides, I have a date.”

  My mouth dropped open. “A what? Like a real date? Not a decoy date?”

  Jackie was my best decoy detective since Gemma left the company. She was wined and dined a lot, but only by married men. The scumbags. She accepted, ate, drank, and went as far as going to their rooms (while not quite going into the room), all the while recording the rendezvous for the wife to see. Yeah, we’re sneaky like that.

  Jackie beamed. “Yes, I met him at the grocery store. In the produce aisle.”

  Now that was a new one on me. I thought everyone these days met on a dating site.

  “Better than over a dead body.” Charles looked pointedly at me.

  We all laughed.

  Jackie hadn’t dated anyone since her rat husband left her. She’d been too focused on raising her twins (now in their teens) and raising her self-esteem. I was thrilled beyond belief.

  “We’ll have to double date,” I said.

  Jackie hesitated. “I’m not sure I’m ready for him to know my dysfunctional Gotcha family that well just yet. An informal meeting at the party will work for now.”

  Charles doubled over laughing.

  I felt as if I’d been slapped in the face. “Okay then.” I turned to walk away.

  Jackie called after me, “It’s not you, it’s him. I just don’t know him that well yet.”

  I heard Charles say, “And yet you’re bringing him to the party tonight?”

  I smiled. When I looked up, Nick was standing at the back door, petting Lola.

  I walked up and kissed him on the cheek. “What brings you here?”

  “A dead body?” Charles said, cracking himself up.

  Nick laughed too. “Not exactly. I was wondering what time we’re supposed to be here tonight. And if I should bring anything.”

  Charles winked at Nick.

  I looked back and forth between them. What was going on? But before I could say anything, Charles was ushering Nick in the house.

  “So are Piper and her partner coming?” I could hear the eagerness in Charles’s voice.

  Nick asked, “Which partner?”

  Chapter 2

  I’d been ready to leave my house for twenty minutes and was pacing the floor waiting for Nick to arrive. He was never late. Charles would be having a cow, since he expected me to be at the party early to greet guests and take care of any last minute preparation before the guests arrived.

  I looked at my watch again. Then I sent Nick yet another text. Still no response.

  Speaking of having a cow, my phone rang just as I hit send on the text to Nick.

  “Where are you?” Charles snapped without even saying hello.

  “I’m waiting for Nick. I’ve been texting him, but he’s not responding.” I started pacing again.

  “Screw Nick, I need you here like now.” Yes, life was always on his schedule.

  “Fine, I’ll have him meet me there.” I hung up.

  I sent Nick a text, telling him to just meet me at the Gotcha offices, and went into my bedroom one last time to check myself.

  I looked in the full length mirror, first at my behind, then from the side, and finally front and center. The skintight black beaded dress hugged my hips in the right places, and flared at just the right spot to minimize my thighs. I loved the personal shopper at Nordstrom’s for helping me pick out this dress.

  The hem was a smidgen on the long side of micro-mini, but I liked it. I’d decided, after a surprisingly good session at the spray tanning salon, to go with my legs bare, and a pair of nude pumps. Even though I still sported a few extra pounds around my hips, my arms didn’t look bad (thank you, kickboxing classes), and I left the shawl off my shoulders. Beyond everything else this dress did for me, it pushed my breasts right up under my chin. Anna Nicole Smith had nothing on me. Wait, that isn’t really a compliment, is it?

  I checked my phone one more time as I patted Lola on the head and hustled to the door.

  Lola raced past me and scratched my leg with her collar. I looked down to see it was only a surface scratch that left a white mark on my new tan. I figured it’d be red soon enough and blend in.

  I grabbed her by the collar and said, “Sorry babe, no dogs allowed at this party. Charles specifically said to leave you at home. Remember the last party, when you howled bloody murder from my office the whole night?”

  Lola sat and looked down at the ground as if she was embarrassed. Ha, I knew better. She’d been pissed off that she was locked away, and not only did she howl most of the night, she shredded every pillow in my office. Yep, she had a temper tantrum.

  “You can just howl at the moon tonight. Tear up the house if you like, but you aren’t coming.” I pushed her away from the door and left.

  When I looked back, she had her paws on the window and was watching me leave. Oh, the guilt.

  * * * * *

  Arriving at the office, I had no idea why Charles was so stressed about me being late, even though I was thirty minutes early. This wasn’t my party after all, and I told Charles I was going to be a guest, and only a guest. This was his shindig, not mine.

  The caterers had a beautiful buffet set up in the back of the reception area, which was actually our dining room. Several servers, dressed in cream tuxedos with gold bowties, finished preparations on the rooms by tucking fabrics on the serving tables, laying out serving utensils, and polishing crystal.

  A special table was set up for the New Year’s festivities: hats, horns, swirly things that make an obnoxious noise, New Year glasses, and sparklers.

  My first thought upon arrival was “how much
was this costing Charles?” Usually something with this much effort cost around sixty dollars a head. Charles had a final headcount of thirty. Eighteen hundred dollars was a lot of money for a New Year’s Eve party, and this didn’t even include the liquor.

  As I walked through the reception area, looking for Charles, I suddenly heard music. I looked around because we don’t have a stereo system set up anywhere in the house.

  Charles came around the corner. “Finally.” He air kissed me because he didn’t want to muss his attire.

  He wore a tailored single button dinner jacket of beige wool and silk-blend with a slight sheen. The jacket had a shawl collar and looked flawlessly dapper with his black slacks and brown patent leather shoes.

  I took as step back to get a better look. “You are breathtaking.”

  “I know.” He handed me a gadget. “Now hold this while I adjust the wireless speakers.”

  I grinned. “Wireless speakers, I like it.”

  He stopped for a moment. “Speaking of wireless, your boobs look hot in that dress. No underwire in that thing.”

  Now we’re talking. Charles never offered unbidden or insincere compliments. I grinned from ear to ear.

  He bent down behind a chair, adjusted something, and stood back up. “Nice legs, too. They did a nice job with the uneven streak down the back of your left leg.”

  My heart stopped. I’d looked very carefully at my legs before deciding to go bare. I bent my leg and looked over my shoulder to see what he was talking about.

  “Nice,” I said, “You got me.”

  He chuckled. “They look nice. Nick should have you undressed in no time.”

  I should be so lucky. I was beginning to think I’d be dateless for the party tonight. And as dates go, Charles’ date looked like a wreck. Whereas Charles acted as if everything was moving along swimmingly, Anthony DeLuca looked like he’d be pulling his hair out if he hadn’t had it cut to about a quarter inch long.

  “I love the hair.” I reached out to rub it.

  He caught my hand mid-air. “If I had known I’d become a petting fetish, I would never have cut it.”