Gotcha Detective Agency Mysteries Boxed Set (3 Books)

by Jamie Lee Scott

  I was too close for the hit to have a major impact, but she did knock me on my butt. It was the first time I was ever happy to have the extra fat covering my butt bones. But there was no way this bitch was getting by me. She did a push-up off of me and started to take off again.

  With both hands, I grabbed her black pants as she stepped over me. She wasn’t going to be running very fast with my hundred and, uh, something pound body attached to her leg. She attempted to drag me for about three feet before she turned and began kicking at me.

  “Bitch!” I screamed. She wouldn’t be getting the better of me this time.

  “Get off me.” She wriggled and kicked, but didn’t land anything.

  I decided to save my energy by not yelling at her again. I tugged my way up her leg to get into a standing position. By the time I had my arms around her scrawny little waist, I was exhausted. I wrapped myself around her just to keep from falling back down.

  Joe came up behind me. “Susan Olson, you’d better just stop now. It’ll only get worse if you try to run again. You must know you won’t get away for long.”

  “Fuck you,” Susan spat. But she didn’t try to run again.

  Nick put his arm around my waist. “You okay?”

  I had been dragged around like a rag doll, no, I wasn’t okay, but then anger took over. “Not yet.”

  I grabbed at Susan’s pant leg again. This time I pulled up instead of down. And there it was, a gauze strip wrapped with pre-wrap and secured with athletic tape. It looked like a professional job.

  “So how bad did it hurt when Lola took a chunk out of you?” I was so mad I hissed.

  Susan yanked her leg away. “I don’t have any idea what you are talking about, psycho bitch.”

  “Okay, that’s enough with the trash mouth. Detective Christianson is going to read you your rights.” Joe had Susan’s hands behind her back and ready to cuff.

  Susan spit at Nick and some of the saliva landed on me too. Yuck, yuck, gross yuck. I wiped the spit off the side of my face, but said nothing. The look on Nick’s face said it all.

  “So now we have assaulting a police officer, that’s on top of murder, attempted murder, evading arrest, and God knows what else.” Nick hadn’t even bothered to wipe away the spit. He wasn’t going to give crazy Susan the satisfaction.

  I was standing on my own now, and I knew I should shut up and stay out of it, but I had to ask, “Why did you kill Esme? I thought she was your best friend?”

  “You don’t know anything.” Susan relaxed slightly, then tried to yank her arm from Joe’s grasp.

  Joe finally slapped the cuffs on her, and not so gently.

  “Ouch,” Susan yelled more than whined. She turned back to me. “Esme only liked things that didn’t belong to her. She got what she deserved. She took the wrong thing from the wrong person. Guess she won’t be doing that again.” She smiled without showing her teeth.

  “What did she take?” Esme had money, couldn’t she buy what she wanted? She didn’t have to steal it. Before Susan could answer, I had figured it out. Sebastian.

  “You’re the new girl in Sebastian’s life.”

  “I should’ve been the only girl. He was mine first.”

  Before Susan had time to say anything more, Nick stepped in and said, “You have the right to remain silent.”

  CHAPTER 27

  And she reserved her right. She didn’t say another word even after Joe and Nick put her in Nick’s car. She sat quietly in the back seat as we drove back to Salinas. Don’t for a minute think that the silence was resigned submission. The one time I turned to look at her, her gaze could have burned through metal.

  “I’ll drop you at the office,” Nick said.

  I wanted to go to the police station, but I didn’t want to jeopardize the investigation by tagging along, so I let him drop me off, and didn’t make a fuss. Besides, I wasn’t going to fuss in front of Susan anyway.

  When I got to the office, I was greeted by a not-so-welcoming committee.

  Charles met me at the kitchen door. “You have guests in your office.”

  I furrowed my brows at him, and he pointed to the open door. I was about to ask who it was when Lauren stepped into the kitchen.

  “It’s about fucking time. Explain to me what the hell is going on.” Lauren turned on her heel and strutted back into my office.

  I wanted to say, “What’s up your ass?” But I thought I knew, so like a whipped pup, I trailed her into my office. What I didn’t expect was that Henry and Eugene would be sitting in the room with Lauren.

  Before I lost my temper at this invasion, I sat in the chair behind my desk, opened the side drawer and pulled out a bottle of water. It was room temperature, but I twisted open the cap and took a long swig anyway.

  “You’ve made my life quite miserable without me even knowing it.” Lauren sat on the arm of the chair that Henry was sitting in.

  “And how is that?” I thought I knew, but I wanted to hear her version before I put my foot in my mouth.

  “Henry tells me that you’ve accused him of having an affair with Eugene,” Lauren spat.

  “Okay.” I was trying to keep from losing my temper, as I had to tell myself, Lauren didn’t know where I’d just come from.

  “Henry is my husband because he’s the best personal investor I know. We’ve been best friends since college. And as far as the world is concerned, we are married.”

  Oh, good God, just what I needed, another twist in this marital plot. Again, I said, “Okay.”

  “Henry married me so I could become a US citizen,” Lauren paused, then continued. “Henry is gay. He married me to help me out, and then we just got along. He’s still my best friend, and the best financial planner I know. And Eugene is his partner. For better or for worse, we have to live together for a while to keep the government happy. Your nosing around is going to get me deported.”

  Deported? “Where are you from?”

  “South Africa.” Lauren stated blandly.

  “Shouldn’t you have an accent?” Now I was just plain tired and wanted these people to leave. So what if I exposed Eugene and Henry’s affair. I was done now, and they could go back to their funked up little world.

  “I still do when I’m tired. But I want to be an American. I am an American. I’m an American author, with a bestselling series, and I love my life. You digging into Henry’s personal life, and having them dragged down to the police station to be interrogated is upsetting my careful plans.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. Even though you hired me to do this, I’m done. One attempt on my life for this investigation was plenty. And apparently your little plans are so much more important than my life.” I stood. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

  “What?” Lauren was genuinely puzzled. “Attempt on your life?”

  Though I was really too tired to discuss it, I explained about the attack the night before, about finding Susan, and how my wonderful Lola had bitten a chunk out of her. I told her about Susan’s statement when I confronted her about Esme.

  Lauren’s attitude did a 180. “I’d never have come here with the boys if I’d known about this. I’m sorry. And I thought I was going through hell. So what do they have on Susan?”

  “For Esme, not so much, but they are putting the case together. Hopefully they’ll be able to match the drugs in Henry’s system with the ones in Susan’s medicine chest. Not that it’s ironclad, but it’s a connection.”

  “Sounds like a lot of loose ends still,” Lauren said.

  “I really thought it was Eugene, because of the affair and all. But if you know about it, then there can’t be any blackmail, and where’s the motive?”

  “So what about Susan?” Henry spoke for the first time.

  “In Susan’s case, I guess Sebastian was Susan’s boyfriend before he was Esme’s. And when Sebastian jumped ship, Susan had had enough of Esme getting everything. I don’t have hard evidence, but I’m guessing that’s what’s going to come out of the interview.�
��

  “Incredible. I’ve never thought any man was worth fighting over, much less killing over. This is crazy. So what now?” Lauren asked.

  “Even if they don’t have enough evidence for the conviction on the murder charge, they have plenty for her attempt on me. Video of her purchasing the phone she used to threaten me. Lola didn’t swallow the chunk of meat she pulled from Susan’s leg, so we have DNA evidence that she was in my house and tried to kill me. So at the very least, she’ll go down for attempted murder. Better than nothing.”

  Lauren stood. This whole time, Eugene said nothing. Then he said, “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you the truth from the beginning, but Henry and Lauren really need this marriage thing to work. It’s just for a few more years. I love Lauren too, and I’d hate to see her sent back to South Africa.” Then Eugene leaned forward and smiled. “It was a fun ride, but I’m ready to get off now. I’d like to say I’m glad I met you, but it would be a lie.” He looked at Henry. “Let’s go.”

  Lauren stayed a few more minutes and thanked me for all I’d done, and apologized for Henry and Eugene’s lack of appreciation. Then I packed up my briefcase and headed home. I was tired, and I was glad to have Charles as my chauffeur. He walked me to the door, and made sure Lola and I were comfortable before leaving.

  Just as I had settled onto the couch with a blanket, Lola at my feet, there was a banging on my front door. Lola sat up, ears at alert, but she didn’t bark or growl. I sat for a moment, not wanting to stir from my comfy spot. Then my cell phone rang.

  I looked at the screen, it was Nick. “Hello.”

  “Open the damn door,” he whispered into my ear.

  Suddenly my spot on the couch didn’t seem as comfy. I pushed Lola off my feet and jumped up. I was probably quite a sight in my fluffy slippers and housecoat, but I didn’t care. I opened the door wide.

  Nick grinned. “You feel alright?”

  “Better now.”

  He walked past me.

  I shut the door and went back to my place on the couch, curling my feet under me. Nick sat on the opposite side. He kicked off his shoes and put his feet on the couch, facing me. Lola sniffed and went into the other room.

  “She’s not talking,” Nick said,

  “I figured that. She’s a strong, stubborn girl.”

  “But we don’t need her for the Bailey murder. We have an open-and-shut case on the attempted murder charge.”

  “We do?” I figured we did, but I didn’t want to seem too sure of myself.

  “Your dog is a genius. Oh, and Susan nearly hanged herself. She said something about how Lola should be euthanized, then before she could finish she realized what she was saying. Lola is safe for now.”

  My heart jumped into my throat. Lola was my baby. Safe for now? What the hell did that mean? “For now?”

  Nick chuckled. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said it like that. Nothing will happen to Lola.”

  At the sound of her name, Lola came back into the room and put her chin on Nick’s lap. His knees were bent, and she just rested her chin at his hip. She had her favorite stuffed frog toy in her mouth.

  Lola has always been a good judge of character. And she really had to like and trust someone before she chinned them. And chinning them with her favorite toy? Unheard of.

  Nick scratched her under the ears. Lola let out a low moan. Oh, yeah, this might work out after all.

  ###

  TEXTUAL RELATIONS

  by

  Jamie Lee Scott

  A

  Gotcha Detective Agency

  Mystery

  Text copyright © 2012 Jamie Lee Scott

  All Rights Reserved

  Acknowledgements

  As with any novel, there are so many people to thank. There are so many people without whom this text wouldn’t exist. I’ve listed just a few of them here.

  Scot Dierks, again, thanks for being the most understanding and supportive husband a woman could ask for, in so many ways. And thanks for letting me attempt to live my dream.

  Teresa Watson, editor extraordinaire. Thanks for the last minute revisions, the advice, the support, and for making Textual Relations a better book. Thanks for taking time away from your own endeavors to help me with mine.

  To my beta readers: Bente Gallagher (also known as New York Times bestselling author Jennie Bentley) and Stacy Jeziorowski for taking early looks, making suggestions, and for being the best fans.

  Lastly, to Martin Crosbie, who helped push me to the next level. I can’t even tell you how much he’s done for so many people.

  CHAPTER 1

  Getting started in the mornings has always been hard for me. I hit my snooze button at least three times. Even Lola, my Doberman, isn’t fooled by the alarm anymore. She doesn’t even stir until she hears me press the reset button, which means I’m finally getting up.

  When the damn thing screamed at me for the third time that morning, I rolled over to press reset. I got about halfway to the clock on my nightstand when the covers that had tangled around my body in my apparently restless sleep threatened to cut me in half. The shrill sound pierced the air for so long, Lola began howling. I wrestled the satin sheets from around my middle and threw the covers to the floor.

  Lola immediately pounced on the covers, rolled over on her back, and wriggled in an attempt to scratch her back. I slammed my hand down on the clock hard enough to break it. Ah, silence.

  I’m Mimi Capurro, owner of Gotcha Detective Agency in Salinas, California. My business is fledgling, but since the news of our involvement in catching a murderer hit the presses, business has been picking up.

  The aforementioned murder occurred when I was working as a bodyguard for New York Times bestselling author, Lauren Silke. The victim was her assistant, who I was not protecting. I got involved in the case, and as luck (or skill) would have it, we caught the killer. I feel bad that such a nice girl had to die, and we got great PR from a bad situation, but let’s face it: detective work is “bad situation” business.

  I picked up the blankets Lola had been rolling on and tossed them in the washer on my way to the bathroom.

  My house is more like a small cottage, so everything is close together, and my stackable washer and dryer happened to be in the closet outside the bathroom. I stuffed the blankets in, but didn’t turn it on, because I felt it was more important for me to have water pressure in my shower than to get the blankets cleaned.

  I looked at my watch as I got undressed. Shit, I’d really slept in. Instead of enjoying a leisurely shower, I jumped in, shampooed, rinsed, and conditioned in less than five minutes. No time to shave my legs, so I’d have to wear pants.

  Lola was scratching at the back door by the time I’d finished putting on my eyeliner and mascara, so I dabbed on my nude lip stain as I headed out the door.

  By the time I arrived at the Victorian house that is home to the Gotcha Detective Agency, Lola was frothing at the mouth. I was late, and she had a strict schedule. She must have her morning snack from Charles Parks, one of my detectives, by 8:30am. We were only five minutes late. She scratched at the passenger window when I parked in the lot, so I leaned across my Land Rover, opened the passenger door, and as soon as I grabbed the handle, Lola pushed hard against the door and flew across the yard to the kitchen door.

  I looked in the rearview mirror and checked my makeup. Today I went for minimal, with just foundation, blush, liner and mascara. Oh, and a bit of lip stain too, so I didn’t look dead. I’d dressed in a black turtleneck and slacks, my usual business casual, and I had my hair pulled up into a high ponytail, which I swear takes five years off my looks.

  When I finally got out of the car, Charles stood outside the door, hand-feeding Lola her treats. As I walked up the steps, he put his finger to his lips.

  “Huge fight going on in there. If we’re quiet, maybe we can catch the rest before they realize everyone can hear them.” Charles grabbed Lola’s collar and led her into my office.

  When he c
ame back into the kitchen, we stood quiet and still. I knew the voices, but I’d never heard them at this level.

  “When you make enough money to pay the mortgage and buy food, then you can do whatever you want. But until then, you live under my roof, and it’s my rules,” Jackie Baccarin, another of my detectives and my best friend, screamed.

  “That’s so unfair. It’s my computer.” That whining voice belonged to Jackie’s fourteen-year-old daughter, Catey.

  “Get over it. Life is unfair,” Jackie said. There was a slamming noise. “And it’s not your computer, it’s mine. I paid for it, and I let you use it. If you don’t give me the passwords, then you won’t be using it anymore.”

  “Fine, I don’t care. I’ll just use Amanda’s computer. Her mom lets her have her computer in her bedroom. She’s not a control freak like you.”

  “Well, good for Amanda! When she starts smoking dope in her bedroom, maybe her mom can join her.” Jackie must have stood quickly, because I heard her chair hit the wall. “We’re done here, young lady. Not only are you not going to have your own computer until I have all the passwords, you’re grounded until further notice.”

  “Until further notice?” Catey sounded flabbergasted. “You can’t do that. You have to give me a time.”

  “I don’t have to do anything. Now you’d better get a move on, because I won’t be writing you a note if you’re late for school.”

  “No. It’s my civil right to know the term of my punishment,” Catey snapped.

  “As long as you live in my house, you have no civil rights,” Jackie stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “Go. School. Now.”

  We watched as Catey, dressed in school regulation black pants and white oxford shirt, stormed out of the building.

  I looked at Charles. “So, what’s the scoop?”