by Mike Faricy
“Black eye?” I sat up and turned to face the mirror over my dresser. It looked like I’d stepped in the ring with someone a lot faster than me. My left eye and cheek were swollen and purple.
“Oh, God. Thanks for this.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, I just tried to pull the blanket over your shoulder last night because you seemed to be cold and you gave me the elbow. I guess no good deed goes unpunished.”
“I didn’t do that. Did I?”
I nodded.
“Really? I couldn’t have,” she said, then tenderly felt her elbow.
“Yeah, and that’s about all the action I got.”
She stared at me for a moment, then said, “Oh, so that’s it. The sympathy vote. You probably did that just to talk me into climbing on…”
“Yeah, Heidi, that’s right, I beat myself up so you’d feel sorry and crawl back in bed with me,” I said, then waited. I counted silently, wondering if it might just work. I could see the wheels turning inside her head. I made it to nine before she spoke.
“You know, you’re so stupid, Dev. But that’s kind of sweet, in your own warped little way. Oh, God, I really shouldn’t, I’m just out of the shower.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Amazingly, I wasn’t thinking about you.”
“I was just hoping it might relieve some pressure. God, I think I’ve got a headache coming on.” I gently touched my swollen cheekbone.
“Okay, okay, but make it fast,” she said, and dropped the towels.
Chapter Two
When we finished Heidi lingered just long enough to drink the last of my coffee and eat the one remaining blueberry muffin I had saved for myself.
“Actually, I was gonna eat that muffin.”
“Too bad, you should have thought about that when you made me stay and work up an appetite.”
“I didn’t tell you, you had to stay. I was merely thinking that after I picked up the tab for dinner last night, your two bottles of Prosecco, and the after dinner drinks you couldn’t seem to live without, that maybe you felt guilty about falling asleep on me. God only knows, I’ve certainly put in the time.”
“Guilty? No, not really.”
“Well, you should.”
“Sorry. Not. Look, I had a great time and then I was tired from a really long day. Did I tell you I closed that Buchner deal?”
“Yeah, at least a half dozen times and by the way, you weren’t tired from an exhausting day at work. It was the two bottles of Prosecco, ‘your best’, if I recall your order correctly. And then those after dinner drinks. What was it?”
“Did I order a dessert Manhattan?” She sounded like she really couldn’t recall.
“No. You ordered two of them. You sure needed those.”
Heidi shrugged.
“No doubt you remember the ride home.”
Her blank look said otherwise.
“I had to keep pushing you off. You were crazy, wanted me to pull over so we could ‘make impetuous love’…was how you phrased it. I think.”
“Oh, sorry about that. Maybe I did have one little sip too many.”
“Yeah, followed by that second bottle of Prosecco and then...”
“Okay, okay. Look I gotta run, I’ve got a luncheon meeting. Hey, if you find my thong, it’s red, hang onto it for me. I couldn’t find it, unless you did something typically stupid and crude, you perv.”
“Actually, I think it’s down on West Seventh, right near the stoplight at Grand Ave.”
“What?”
“Yeah, you said you felt imprisoned or something along those lines and you threw it out the window. I can’t remember exactly. It was just before your ‘impetuous love’ suggestion.”
“Are you kidding me? Damn it, that was about an eighteen dollar thong.”
“There you go, I’m always telling you not to wear one in the first place. See what happens when you ignore my common sense suggestions.”
She shook her head and said, “You really are a perv. See you later, I gotta run.” She scooped up her purse and the rest of my blueberry muffin and ran out the door.
“Thanks, Heidi.”
“My pleasure.” She waved over her shoulder, but never bothered to look back hurrying to her car in the cold weather.
I had my phone out as she pulled away from the curb. No rush, I ended up leaving a message. “Hi, Danielle, this is Dev Haskell. We spoke last night, actually this morning, early. Just calling back. You can reach me at this number. Thanks.”
Chapter Three
I showered and took my time getting into the office. It was close to noon before I was able to stare out the window at The Spot bar and ignore the files on my desk. I was supposed to be doing some fact checking on job applications for an insurance company. The work was boring, but it paid the bills, at least for this week. I just had to make phone calls and verify periods of employment, some references, nothing too heavy. I figured I could put off making the calls for a few more hours and still complete everything by about four in the afternoon. I planned to call late enough so I wouldn’t get an appointment with my pal Eddie Bendix until tomorrow at the earliest.
Eddie was an old high school buddy and the HR guy at a major insurance company. I think they were gearing up to handle the influx they expected from Obamacare, although things were so screwed up on the government end no one seemed to be in a hurry.
It was winter, or would be officially in a couple of days. We’d already had ice and snow for three weeks and temperatures had hung below freezing since Thanksgiving. The day was cold and gray and seemed to match my mood. Oh, and we were out of coffee in the office.
I was staring out the window when Louie came in the door. We shared the office. Louie was fast becoming the man to talk to in town if you got nailed on a DUI, a driving under the influence charge. I think a combination of his personal experience, along with a pretty sharp legal mind were beginning to serve him well. The personal experience wasn’t the sort garnered in the court room. Louie had been pulled over enough times, and never yet been charged making him a bit of a legend, at least with the liquid diet crowd.
“I think you were doing that the last time I saw you,” he said, then threw his briefcase on the picnic table that served as his desk. He discarded a grimy ski jacket on top of the briefcase and tossed his Minnesota Wild stocking cap on top of the jacket, it fell on the floor where he ignored it. All of his suits seemed to be permanently wrinkled. He was in the same wrinkled gray suit he’d worn the previous two days.
I sort of came back to the present and stopped staring out the window long enough to answer him.
“Just thinking. I’m not at all excited about checking out those employment applications for Eddie.” I indicated the two untouched stacks of files on my desk.
“What the hell happened to your eye? And you haven’t done those yet? The files…you’ve had them for at least a week.”
“Actually, I just got them last Monday.”
“Yeah. And today is Friday. That’s a week. Right?”
“I was thinking seven days, you know, not five. Anyway, I’m not all that excited about making the calls. Most of the time I’m lucky if they’ll even confirm employment, let alone the dates. These companies are always worried about being sued by some jack-ass lawyer and don’t want to say much of anything beyond ‘Hello’.”
“Tell me about it. And the eye?”
“Nothing really, just grabbed some dinner last night with Heidi. She sort of bumped into me with her elbow. It was an accident. Hey, get this, I got a call in the middle of the night from some chick. She was reading my phone number off a stall door in the ladies room.”
“The ladies room? Okay, I’m ignoring your Heidi explanation for the moment. You wrote your phone number in the ladies room?”
“I wasn’t the one who…” My phone rang and I answered.
“Haskell Investigations.”
There was a momentary pause before a voice said, “Hello, I’m re
turning a call left for me from a Mr. Haskell?”
“That’s me.” I recognized her voice from last night and nodded at Louie. “Is this Danielle?”
“Yes.” Her response suggested our conversation wasn’t going much further.
“I’m returning your call from last night. Actually, it was early this morning, just after two,” I explained.
“My call?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve had a lot going on lately and I’m wondering if you might have me mixed up with someone else.” She was suddenly sounding just a little unsure.
“You phoned me from the ladies room. I think you said the middle stall. Apparently my phone number was written on the door and you called.”
There was a long pause and I had the sense the event was slowly coming into focus. “Oh, God. Look, I apologize. I’m really sorry I bothered you. It won’t happen again, I promise. I may have had a little too much to drink and I…”
“I think you said some guy ditched you and you got stuck with the bar tab. Hopefully you found a taxi home.”
“Yeah, I did. Not my boyfriend, by the way. But back up for a minute, you’re an investigator?”
“Yeah, Haskell Investigations.”
“So, what do you investigate? Is it like in the movies and on TV?”
“Usually it’s a lot more boring.” I glanced over at the stacks of untouched files on my desk.
“Do you ever take on new clients?”
“On occasion. It sort of depends on what they want me to do. Sometimes they would be better served by an attorney or the police.”
“You ever investigate cheating partners and that sort of thing?”
“You mean like a husband or boyfriend?”
“Not really, I was thinking more along the lines of a business partner.”
“I have.”
“Really, gee, maybe we should talk.” She made it sound like I had just passed some sort of test.
“Do you want to set up a time when we could meet?”
“All right.” She suddenly sounded guarded. “Maybe a public place where we would both feel comfortable.”
I took that to mean where she would feel comfortable. “You pick the place,” I said.
“How about the St. Paul Grill? Could you maybe do tomorrow, say about sixish?”
“I could. I’ll plan to see you tomorrow about six. I’ll be seated at the bar.”
“How will I know you?”
“I’ll be wearing a brown bomber jacket, I’ve got dark hair combed back and right now I’ve got a black eye.”
“A black eye,” she said, but didn’t comment further. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow, about six, at the bar.”
“Right,” I said, but she’d already hung up.
Chapter Four
It was way past six and getting closer to seven. I was headed toward the bottom of my second beer. It was standing room only at the bar and I must have been the only person in the place not attending a Christmas party. Everyone was dressed to the nines in silk Christmas ties or long fur coats and talking about five octaves too loud. Between my blue jeans, bomber jacket and the black eye I stuck out like a sore thumb.
“Excuse me, do you work here?” She was an attractive brunette, with a chest fighting to escape the confines of her dress. I had to concentrate to focus on her face.
“No, sorry, I’m actually waiting to meet someone. She’s running a little late.” I didn’t see any point in mentioning the close to an hour part.
“Are you Dev?”
I think I blinked or half jumped. “Danielle?”
She nodded and held out her hand. “Danielle Roxbury, nice to meet you.” The extended hand gave me the opportunity to glance down her dress. Yeah, they were really trying to jump out and get some air.
“Sorry I’m so late, my car wouldn’t start. I think it’s that stupid battery again and I...excuse me, Dev, up here. Hello.”
“What? Oh sorry, I have a hearing impairment. Service related.” I took a sip of my beer and let that seep in.
She looked like she wasn’t buying it and had probably heard something along that line a few thousand times. She studied me a long moment before she spoke. “Actually, I’m really running late. I’m on my way to somewhere else, another get together, you know the Holidays. I had to taxi down here. God, I feel like I’ve been running late all day.”
“Look, we’re not going to be able to talk, let alone hear one another in this place. I could give you a ride and we can talk on the way. It’ll save you a taxi fare.”
She seemed to consider my offer for a moment before she finally nodded. “Okay, I guess.” She sounded less than enthusiastic.
Some fat guy with a red face and an empty martini glass began to ooze onto my bar stool before I was even off the thing. We made our way through the crowd and were almost out the door when she stopped.
“Hold on, I just want to make a call and let them know I’m on the way,” she said. Her cell was already up against her ear. “Hey, Karen. Yeah, I know, stupid battery again. Anyway, a guy is giving me a lift.” She looked at me and nodded. “I’ll be there in fifteen. Dev Haskell. Yeah, I tell you later. Can’t wait, see you shortly. Okay, yeah, bye.”
I wasn’t sure there had even been someone on the other end of the line, but I couldn’t blame her for playing it safe. “I’m parked just around the corner. You want to wait here and I’ll pick you up? It’s pretty cold.”
“Oh that’s sweet,” she said and looked surprised.
I didn’t waste any time walking to my car. It was damn cold and I hoped the heat would begin to kick in by the time I drove around the block. There was a parking ticket frozen onto the windshield of my Lincoln Continental. Merry Christmas from the city of Saint Paul and the parking Gestapo. I fired up the engine, tossed the box holding Eddie’s files into the back seat, then made a half hearted attempt to scrape the frost off the inside of the windshield. I had the heater set on defrost and blowing cold air full blast. It didn’t seem to be helping. I thought of running the wipers until I remembered I was out of washer fluid. By the time I drove around the block I think it had actually gotten colder in the car.
I pulled into the circular entry and stopped opposite the door. A valet with a questioning look on his face bounced out the door. I lowered the passenger window. “Just picking up.”
“Good luck, man.” He gave my car a quick once-over, chuckled and bounced back inside.
I think he said something to Danielle standing there with her hands in her coat pocket because she gave a sort of disgusted grimace when she looked out the window. She took her time then seemed to grit her teeth and stepped out into the cold, taking quick, tiny steps toward my car. I had to reach over and open the passenger door because the handle was broken on that side. The door was frozen closed and I had to pound on it a few times before it creaked open.
“Hop in.”
“You sure?” she said, then cautiously climbed in. She stayed as close to the passenger door as possible. She thrust her hands deeper into her pockets, then pulled her coat around her like it was a hazmat suit and she might contract some incurable disease from the interior of my car. Her chin was buried about four inches beneath the collar. Just her eyes peeked out.
“Heat’s just about to kick in,” I lied. “Where to?”
“Up the hill to Summit Ave., about two blocks this side of Dale. Do you know how to get there?”
“Yeah,” I said, pulling onto the street. “I live up there.”
“You live on Summit?” she asked, sounding incredulous. It was the toniest street in Saint Paul and she didn’t bother to hide her surprise.
“No, but close, just a couple of blocks away.”
“Oh,” she said then followed up with, “Brrr-rrrr.”
I drove down West Seventh to Grand Ave and turned right. Fortunately, we didn’t have to wait at the stop light.
“Oh, God, how old is this thing? Is your heat on?”
“It’s a cl
assic and I think the heat’s getting ready to start. So, you said you needed some investigative work done?”
“Mmm-mmm, God. It’s so cold.” Her shoulders looked to be up around the top of her ears and her voice came out muffled from somewhere deep within her heavy coat.
“Would you care to expand on that?”
“God, I’m freezing to death. Are you sure the heat is on? I can’t feel my toes.”
“Almost. What did you want me to look into?”
“Oh, God, I can’t stop shivering.”
“We’ll be at your party in about three minutes. I think you’ll survive.” I felt the vague hint of warm air beginning to bounce off the windshield. As we approached Ramsey Hill the light turned yellow and I stepped on the gas. It turned red about the time I reached the intersection, then sailed through. The hill was extremely steep, so I gave the accelerator another push about halfway up the hill. The Lincoln sputtered then coughed a couple of times before it sprang back to life.
“Oh, God no, please,” Danielle whined to herself from somewhere deep down in her coat.
“We were discussing your investigation.”
“Huh? I was thinking of having you check out a guy who owes me a lot of money.”
“The guy who left you stranded the other night?”
She grunted a noncommittal response.
“Why does he owe you money? I mean, did he just take it, drain your bank account or use your credit cards?”
“No, nothing like that. Matter a fact he’s a banker, or at least he was. He’s a lawyer too, now that I think about it. I lent him some money for his business.”
“Which is?”
“His business? He’s into all sorts of rubs and barbecue sauces and things. He went commercial last spring. He has an industrial kitchen, somewhere. He’s developed packaging, that sort of thing. He’s moving the stuff into stores, the farmer’s market, some trade shows.”
“Is it any good?”
“I don’t know. To tell you the truth, I never tasted it. I’m a vegan.”