by Ann Mullen
“How can you be sure you’re going to catch him today?”
“Because of all the money and stuff this boy has been stealing, he’s got to be doing it on a regular basis. Why stop now? He’s actually stupid enough to think he’s going to continue to get away with it. Mr. Walker said his inventory girl keeps good records. She keeps track of all the deliveries to the store, and all sales. Nothing gets past her. Oh, we’ll get him today. I’m sure of it,” Billy said, confident that he would prevail.
“How much money would a job like this pay?” I asked as I cut my eyes sideways to him, and then smiled that sheepish smile I conjure up every so often.
“Nosey, aren’t we?”
“Hey, that’s my job, remember?”
As we pulled into the office parking lot, I asked, “What are we doing here, instead of going to the hotel?”
“I want to go over the details of the case before we venture out on surveillance, and I want to explain a few other things to you.”
Billy unlocked the front door, stepped inside, and began punching in numbers on a wall alarm pad as he explained, “I forgot to tell you about the alarm. There’s one here by the front door and one inside the garage door that leads to my apartment. The code is 2525. Like the song says—In the year 2525, if man is still alive...”
“You’re as bad as Mom,” I said, laughing at his silliness as I followed him to his office.
After several minutes of rummaging through paperwork, he turned and said, “Ah, here’s one of my weird, off-the-wall cases.” Then he mumbled something in his native tongue I didn’t quite understand.
“Wait a minute. I don’t understand Indian. Could you please explain it to me in plain English?” I wasn’t trying to be a grouch, but I wasn’t ready to learn a new language just yet.
“Crazy, this whole thing’s crazy,” Billy answered. “Barbara Jenkins asked me to follow her husband, Darin. She says he’s having an affair with her sister, Caroline Webster. Mrs. Jenkins wants proof. It turns out Mr. Jenkins is a very wealthy man, and he is having an affair with her sister. I know this because he came into my office about twenty minutes after she left, and told me he was. He said not only was he having an affair with Barbara’s sister, but that Barbara was doing the same thing with her training coach. He didn’t care. Their marriage had been nothing more than a marriage of convenience. The love has been long gone. This is typical stuff that goes on when you deal with people who have money. They have two kids in college, so they both pretty much come and go as they please. Only now, she’s getting greedy. She wants money, property and freedom. He’s not going to let that happen. He’s willing to give her a settlement in cash, but that’s all. He says she has enough money to pay me for about a month, and when that runs out, there wasn’t going to be anymore. He was going to make sure. So why not work for him and make some serious money? The end result was going to be the same. She would run out of money, and I’d never get anything on him—he assured me. I believe him. It’s a waste of my time and her money.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I called her and told her exactly what was happening. I told her about her husband’s visit, and assured her she was in a no-win situation. She should accept his offer. He knew about her affair. I convinced her that the only person to gain anything was going to be me. They were both cheating. I told her a portion of his money would be better than nothing. Why not put an end to it right now, before things got really ugly? She said she’d think it over. In the meantime, I have her deposit for two thousand dollars, and five thousand dollars from Mr. Jenkins.”
“It doesn’t seem right that you’d take money from both of them,” I said, stunned. “Isn’t that illegal?”
“Oh, don’t worry. I have the money, but one of them will get their money back. I’m just giving them time to think it over. I’m not going to cheat anybody. About the Miller job...”
I didn’t understand his logic. Billy took money from two people who are investigating each other. Wasn’t that a conflict of interest? I had questions about the situation, but I trusted Billy. I had a feeling he wasn’t going to do anybody wrong. I sure hoped not. I don’t think I could work for a man who wasn’t honest.
Something’s not right in the kitchen... as my mother would say.
Chapter 8
By the time it got dark, Billy and I had his spying gear (as he so laughingly called it) packed in the ragged Mercury. We stopped at Walker’s Hardware Store to retrieve the surveillance camera and tape for future viewing. In the process, he explained some of the rules of being a private eye.
“The main thing you have to remember is to be discrete, and most of all, stay alert.”
As we reached the Red Mountain Inn, located on an isolated strip of Rt. 29, and parked in the back of the parking lot, he went on to explain the uses of his surveillance equipment.
He had the camcorder we picked up from Walker’s; a Nikon camera with a telephoto lens the size of Milwaukee; and a gadget that resembled a small satellite dish used to listen in on conversations. We were hot. We were ready to go.
“What good is all this stuff if you don’t have a recorder in place?” I asked.
“Watch this,” he replied.
After taking out the tape from the Walker job and replacing it with a new one, Billy connected a wire to the camcorder and then plugged it into the car lighter. Then he plugged in another wire from the camcorder to a small laptop computer. He set the camcorder (which was the size of a small child’s shoe box) on top of the dash.
After a few adjustments, a clear picture of a section of the hotel appeared on the screen. After several pecks to the small laptop keyboard, the camera lens moved, zooming in on the target.
I was impressed. This was the coolest thing since man had created the microwave oven.
“Impressed, huh?” Billy boasted. “If you think this is great, wait until you see the new fiber-optic setup I’ve ordered. It has a camera in a box the size of a cigarette pack, and all you have to do is put it in place, hit the remote control, and go.”
I was still marveling at all the hi-tech stuff when Billy said, “I know you think this car is an eyesore, but let me tell you, I have this thing set up so that it does what I need it to do. I can turn the ignition on ACC, hit a switch, and the dash lights go out. That way, I can still have power without lights. You don’t want the interior lights on when you’re on a stakeout. Somebody could see you. That’s just the tip of the iceberg. It guzzles gas, but it has an engine in it with enough horsepower to outrun almost anything on the road—even Charlottesville’s finest. Nobody pays attention to a piece of junk that looks like this. If I were going into a high-dollar hotel parking lot, I’d drive my truck. It’s got pizzazz, and it looks nice. It would blend right in.”
Billy continued to tell me all about his car, until I finally butted in and asked, “What’s the deal with Mrs. Miller and her husband? Why are we sitting here, instead of following him from his house? How do you know this is his destination?” I must have missed something along the way.
“Simple,” he answered. “Rebecca Miller called me around three o’clock and said her hubby, Jeff, was going to play poker tonight—something he usually does on Thursday nights. Earlier, he’d said something about the two of them going out to dinner, but she told him she was coming down with a bug. Once she got the kids in bed, all she wanted to do was to lie down. He decided to go ahead with the poker game.”
“What’s that got to do with this place?”
“A while back, Mrs. Miller got suspicious about her husband’s Thursday night poker games. Seems he came home one night and she smelled a woman’s perfume on him. She said it almost took her breath away.
But she didn’t say anything to him. After that, she started going through credit card bills, looking for anything out of the ordinary. He normally takes care of the bills, but she explained to him she was looking for a charge she’d made for a new dress. She wanted to take the dress back, but couldn
’t find the receipt, and couldn’t remember which card she used. He got angry, but eventually let it go. What she didn’t tell him was she found a charge on the Master Card for the Red Mountain Inn. The date of the charge was on a Thursday. She started going through his files in his study and came up with other charges on various credit cards. She followed him for two weeks in a row, and this is where he went.”
“If he’s having an affair, why would he be so stupid as to charge stuff on his credit card, so his wife could find it? I mean, even I know better. If I were screwing around, I sure wouldn’t leave a paper trail. Maybe he wants her to find out.”
Billy looked at me strangely and said, “That’s a thought.” He handed me a picture. “This is Jeff Miller. Rebecca said he’d probably be driving his silver, 1999 BMW convertible. Nice, huh? He doesn’t usually drive her Saturn station wagon. I wonder why?”
I rolled the window down in the Mercury. It was almost June. The days were warm, but the nights were still chilly. Yet, I couldn’t resist the clean, fresh smell of the great outdoors. In Newport News, the days would be hot and the nights would be humid and muggy. The contrast was amazing.
I laid my head back on the headrest and tried to soak in all the information Billy had given me.
“Jeff Miller’s a handsome man,” I said, holding the picture. “What about Rebecca? Would you classify her as good-looking?”
“Who cares what she looks like? She’s paying me to do a job, not critique her beauty.”
“Yes, but I thought maybe...” I stopped in mid-sentence. “Hey, that’s him, isn’t it?”
I watched the BMW drive through the parking lot and stop in front of room 108. The inn had ten rooms downstairs, numbered left to right, with number 100 on the far left, and number 110 on the far right. The lobby was situated in the center. This was your typical small-time motel, but from what Billy had said, it was decent. The rooms were nice; the service was good; and the confidentiality of the guests was impeccable... almost.
“Okay, look alive,” he demanded.
“Look alive? I don’t know what to do.”
Billy put his arm over the back of my seat, looked into my eyes and said, “Just sit here and keep looking at me. Wiggle your head... slowly, like you’re flirting with me.”
I did exactly as he said.
“Take your hand and rub my face... that’s it... kiss the side of my face. Don’t freak out. Slide backwards and act like you’re laughing... not crazy... just smooth and simple. You’re doing very well.”
We sat there acting like we were making out, while Billy’s fingers clicked away on the keyboard. This was weird. Billy didn’t actually kiss me, but he got close enough so that I could smell the scent of Old Spice. Compared to other men’s cologne, Old Spice was my favorite. It was the kind my dad always wore, and I loved it. I was beginning to drift off into fantasyland when Billy reached into the back seat and grabbed the Nikon. Click... Click...
Jeff Miller walked up to room 108, knocked on the door, and then walked inside. We couldn’t see the woman he was meeting, but the bottle of liquor in his hand, was an obvious giveaway. What a scumbag! I hate men who do this kind of thing. His wife is probably a good woman, just like my sister, Claire.
The whole time I was fawning all over Billy, he was steadily doing something else, while pretending he was having a romantic interlude with me. Boy, he is good.
Once Jeff was inside the room, Billy slid back to his side of the car and said, “Now we have a video and pictures of him entering the room. All we need is one of him coming out. Hopefully, we’ll get one of her, too.”
It was seven o’clock, according to my Timex. Sitting here, I went over in my mind the strange feelings I had when Billy got close to me. What’s the matter with me? He’s sixteen years older than I am! He’s my boss! I kept telling myself to get a grip, don’t even go there. Boy, I really need a man in my life! Those thoughts brought me back to Cole James. I couldn’t wait to see him tomorrow.
I sat there in my own little world until Billy interrupted my thoughts.
“Might as well relax, we’re going to be here for a while.” He rolled down his window and then pulled out a pack of Marlboros.
“I didn’t know you smoked,” I growled.
“I know it’s a bad habit. It probably will kill me. What can I say?”
“It’s been almost four years for me. I’ve had a few here and there, but I try to stay away from them. Every once in a while, when I get really whacked out in the head, I might have one.”
Billy looked at me in amazement.
“Oops, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you were whacked out. It just came out that way.”
“Before too long, you and I’ll see every side of each other there is to see,” he said, ignoring my remark.
You have that right, pal. All I was doing was looking for a job, and now I’m sitting here in a hotel parking lot with my boss, thinking all kinds of sexual thoughts about him, while we snoop on people. I needed to have a sex life. It’s been far too long.
Two hours later, after we’d finally exhausted every area of our life we could talk about, the door to room 108 opened. Their voices sounded through the laptop.
“Hey, that’s pretty cool,” I squealed in delight.
“Oops, here he comes, Mr. Jeff Miller, I do believe,” Billy said as he hit a few keys on the computer, and then picked up his Nikon again. Click... Click... “We have you, pal.”
“Holy Moses,” I screamed. “He was meeting a man! Yuck, look at him kiss... oh, man, how gross.” I was stunned. This wasn’t at all what I had expected.
A quick kiss and then both men walked out of the room. Jeff walked over to his BMW as the other guy got into a white, Ford Explorer.
“I don’t believe it!” I screamed. “Jeff’s not only screwing around, but he’s doing it with a guy. Yuck!”
“This could be really bad,” Billy mumbled.
“What do you mean, really bad?”
“When you tell a woman her husband’s cheating, she gets upset and cries, but when you tell her that he’s cheating with a man, she goes nuts. I know, I’ve been here before. They do all kinds of crazy things.”
“Then don’t tell her.”
“I can’t do that. I have an obligation. I have to tell her, and I have to tell her the truth.”
Trying to put myself in her place, I said, “Yes, I guess you’re right. If I paid you good money to do a job, I’d expect you to be honest with me. This is going to get dirty.”
A few minutes after nine, we were leaving the hotel parking lot, heading toward Billy’s office.
“I’m going to let you take my truck home,” Billy said. “I know your car is history, and you probably haven’t given much thought to it, but you need something to drive. You can take my truck, while I see what I can do about your transportation problem.”
What did he mean? Was he going to provide me with a company car? This was great. Benefits are an important part of any job.
Once we got back to the office, Billy started putting his gear away. I stood and watched him work as he talked.
“I’m going to look over the tapes from the hardware store and the one of our pal, Jeff. Why don’t you go on home?” he asked. “Come on, let’s go out to the garage and get the truck.”
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go.”
Billy’s truck was a monster. He had to lift me up to get into it.
“It’s all automatic, so you can’t go wrong,” he assured me.
“I can’t believe you’re going to trust me with your truck.”
“I know where you live,” he chuckled. His smile was so warm, it made me feel special. “If you get stopped, the registration and proof of insurance is in the glove box.” He walked over to the other side of the truck and opened the glove box. “I guess I’d better take this gun out. I don’t want a cop to catch you with a concealed weapon. I’d have to bail you out of jail.”
“This is really nice of you
to lend me your truck, Billy.” I said, looking around the garage. On the left was a small workbench with a red Craftsman toolbox sitting on top. A washer and dryer sat next to the box. Then I saw it. Billy’s motorcycle was sitting to the right. I hadn’t noticed it when we first came in because it was covered with a black plastic cover like you’d see on a grill.
“I have to look at your bike. Do you mind?”
“Please, help yourself,” Billy said, obviously proud. He walked over and removed the cover. “This is my pride and joy!”
“It’s beautiful. Someday, I want to go for a ride on it,” I demanded. I’d never seen so much chrome on a bike. Forget it, I don’t want to get that fever again, I reminded myself.
“This has been a long day,” I said. “I was supposed to go to the county fair with my folks, but because the storms rolled in, I ended up spending the afternoon with you in a motel parking lot. Things can sure change fast around here.”
“We’ve only just begun...”
“You’re a hoot. I can’t wait to meet your family,” I said, laughing. “Are all the men in your family as big as you are?”
“Yes, and so are some of the women.”
I started the truck and then asked, “Are you going back to the office now?”
“Yeah, I’ll look through the video tapes and write up a report, calculate the bills for both jobs, take a shower, eat something, and then go to bed. Tomorrow, I’ll go be with my family. The rest can wait until Monday. I need a break.”
“I’d better head out. My folks will probably be wondering what happened to me.”
As I was leaving, Billy yelled, “Don’t be afraid to use the car phone. Just remember, any long distance calls come out of your check.”
On the road, I fell into a state of euphoria. Things were good, and I was happy. I didn’t like what went down with that jerk, Jeff, but that was beyond my control. I hated to think what was going to happen when Rebecca found out her husband wasn’t seeing another woman... he was seeing a man! That had to be the worst. All that aside, things were good. I can’t remember the last time I felt so at peace with myself.