He’d had the dream on and off since he’d escaped. He’d never seen the man’s face—until tonight. It was Derek’s.
Chapter 6
When Derek came into the kitchen Monday morning, Joe was at the stove. He spun around, staring at him as if he’d seen a ghost.
“Are you okay?” Derek asked.
“Yeah, sure, why?” Joe replied, turning away.
“I don’t know, you looked frightened,” Derek told him.
“You startled me. I didn’t hear you come in.”
Derek doubted that. The stairs from the second floor were uncarpeted and had a couple squeaky risers. He wasn’t going to call Joe on it, however. If something was bothering him, it wasn’t up to Derek to pry. He’ll tell me when he’s ready. Or I was reading more into it than was there to begin with.
“What are you making?”
“An omelet—one for each of us—if the first one would stop sticking. Otherwise we’ll be eating scrambled eggs with cheese and tomatoes.”
“You did spray the pan, I hope.”
“Yes, Derek, I did. I’m not a complete idiot.”
“I know.” Derek patted his shoulder as he walked by. Joe jumped as if he’d been scalded, which really bothered Derek. “You’re jittery this morning.”
“Sorry. I…umm, had a dream about that movie.”
Derek chuckled, even though he didn’t quite believe him. “Okay, no more thrillers for you before bedtime, young man.”
“Since we saw it in the afternoon, I don’t think that applies,” Joe replied, obviously beginning to relax. He scooped the spatula under the omelet, flipping it perfectly. “Got ya,” he crowed setting it on a plate before pouring the rest of the egg mix into the frying pan to make the second one.
Derek watched, smiling, before starting the coffeemaker.
* * * *
I can’t tell him what my dream was really about. Joe flipped the second omelet, let it cook a moment more, and then put it on the other plate. He wouldn’t like it if he knew I was dreaming about him. Hell, I don’t like it because nothing will come of it. Why him? Why now? Like I don’t know but I can’t act on it even if he was interested in me that way. I just can’t. He wanted to hit something, throw something, let his anger out about what he’d been through that had made him so afraid of getting into a relationship. How could he care about me? How could anyone? He didn’t have an answer for his questions. All he knew was he’d have given anything to go back and change what had happened.
* * * *
“What’s on your agenda today?” Joe asked when they got to the agency, hanging his jacket over the back of his chair. “Is there anything you need me to do other than sitting here looking pretty while I answer the phone?” He mimicked an actress he’d seen in an old movie, patting his hair and miming putting on lipstick.
Derek rolled his eyes. “Go for a qualified male assistant, okay? Let me check my schedule and messages. I have to stop by Ms. Wiley’s shop to make certain she’s got the hang of checking the videos from the cameras I set up last week.”
“How hard can that be?” Joe asked.
“She’s an older lady who’s not all that tech savvy.”
“Enough said.” Joe drummed his fingers on his desk. “You know, if you could afford another computer, I could do things like making out bills for your clients, which would save you time.”
Derek paused on his way into his office. “You could also do that on my computer while I’m out. Give me ten and I’ll show you what it takes.”
Joe gave him a thumbs-up and then took the book he’d been reading from his jacket pocket. He figured if nothing else he could get through another chapter while he waited. He’d barely started when the hallway door opened and a woman he guessed was in her mid-thirties walked into the waiting room, coming over to the desk.
“Mr. Clarke?”
“No, ma’am, I’m his assistant. May I help you?”
“Does he have time to talk with me now or should I set up an appointment? I was walking by the building and saw the sign by the lobby entrance so I decided what the heck, I might as well ask.”
“Ask what?” Joe picked up a pen to take notes.
“If he does surveillance work.”
“I believe so. I only started working here last Friday so I’m still learning the in-and-outs of what he handles. If you’ll give me a second, I’ll find out.” Joe pushed the intercom and when Derek answered he told him what the woman had asked. A moment later he said, “He does and he’s free right now if you want to speak to him.”
“Please,” she replied.
“If you’ll tell me your name…”
“Nora. Mrs. Nora Burns.”
“Follow me, please.” Joe opened the door to Derek’s office, stepping aside to let her enter. “Mr. Clarke, this is Mrs. Nora Burns,” he said by way of introductions.
Derek stood, coming over to greet her. “If you’ll have a seat,” he said as he returned to his desk. When she took the client’s chair, he suggested that Joe remain in the room, telling her, “He’s new here. It would help if he listened in, if you don’t mind, Mrs. Burns.”
“So he said. I have no problem with that.”
Once Derek was seated, he asked, “Who do you want me to watch, and why?”
“My husband’s girlfriend, or to be exact, my soon to be ex-husband. We’re in the middle of a divorce and he’s suing for shared custody of our children.”
“You’re contesting it?” Derek asked.
“Yes!” she replied vehemently. “It’s not that he isn’t a good father, because he is.” She sighed. “It’s his only redeeming quality.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“The girlfriend. She’s the reason he asked for a divorce. I don’t trust her any farther than I can throw her. She’s ten years younger than him. They met at a company party where she was one of the servers.” Nora’s mouth tightened, “She did everything she could to get her hooks into him and the stupid man fell for it.”
“What do you think I can do?” Derek asked.
“Watch her, tail her, catch her doing something she shouldn’t, like, I don’t know, drugs, or kicking dogs or, hell, anything that’ll make him see what she’s really like.”
“Mrs. Burns, you do realize she might be exactly what she seems,” Derek said. “A young woman who fell in love with your husband.”
She corrected him. “Ex-husband as soon as the divorce is final.”
He nodded. “Have your children met her?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Her mouth tightened in disgust. “They like her. They think she’s fun.”
“How old are they?” Joe asked, hoping Derek wouldn’t think he was butting in.
“Four and six. Too young to know what’s what.” She turned her attention back to Derek. “How much will it cost me for you to find some dirt on her?”
He told her that he charged by the hour for surveillance, and how much. “There’s no guarantee I’ll catch her doing anything illegal,” he warned her.
She sighed. “I suppose not but still, maybe you’ll get lucky. I mean, look at what she does and how young she is. What girl her age wants a man who’s ten years older and has kids?”
Wisely, Joe thought, Derek didn’t answer her question. Instead, he took some forms from a desk drawer, handing them to her.
“The first one is my contract. The other one is for personal information on you, your husband, and the young lady. I’m presuming you know her name and address, and who she works for.”
She nodded, taking the pen he handed her. It took several minutes for her to fill everything in. When she finished, Derek read over the information on the contract and signed it.
“As this says, I’ll send you a report every week and get in touch with you when I find out anything.”
“Every week? Do you think it will take more than a week?” she asked in dismay.
“There’s no telling. Sometimes things fall into place quickly. Othe
r times they don’t.”
“I suppose that makes sense.” She took out a credit card, handing it to him. “You can use this to pay for the retainer, I hope.”
“Of course.” He ran the card through the machine sitting on the corner of his desk and gave it back to her. “Unless there’s anything else…”
“No. Thank you for taking my case. I know you’ll be able to prove she’s a gold-digging little tramp.” With that said, she stood, walking swiftly out of the office with Joe right behind her. He was going to be polite and open the hallway door for her, but she beat him to it, closing is behind her.
“Wow, what a bitch,” Joe said when he went back into the office.
“A woman scorned,” Derek replied. “It will be interesting to find out if—” he looked at the information she’d written down, “—If Miss Irene Foster is what Mrs. Burns thinks, or just a young woman who fell in love with a man who loves her back.”
“What are you planning to do?”
“Check to make certain the information Mrs. Burns gave me is correct for starters and find out if Ms. Foster has any arrests on her record.”
“Basically a background check.”
“Yep. I suspect Mrs. Burns’ lawyer as already done that, but I’m not going to call and ask.”
“I know I need to be here during the day, but if you’re going to stake her out at night can I come along?”
“Of course. You won’t learn anything sitting at home watching TV.”
Once again, Joe felt a thrill at the idea Derek considered the house his home, too. He tried not to show it, however, because he didn’t want Derek to think he was looking for something permanent in their arrangement. He’ll expect me to move out and find my own place when I can afford to, and I will. I have to.
“It looks like Ms. Foster lives and works where Mrs. Burns said,” Derek told Joe several minutes later. “Also, she has no criminal record, not even a traffic ticket.”
“Yes!”
Derek chuckled. “You want her to be the good guy, or woman.”
“Sorta. I know I should feel sorry for Mrs. Burns, but it’s hard.”
“Not every client I take on comes across as perfect by a long shot,” Derek replied. “I have to take that into consideration before I decide to accept their case. In this instance I’m thinking more about the kids. If Ms. Foster is a gold-digger they could suffer, especially if Mr. Burns marries her. If she’s for real, then they’ll have a second mother who also loves them. Make sense?”
“Yeah, it does.” When Derek stood and put on his jacket, Joe asked where he was going. Then he remembered Ms. Wiley and her cameras. Derek confirmed it, saying he’d probably be back in an hour, “Unless I stop by Ms. Foster’s work to talk with her boss. If I do, I’ll let you know.”
* * * *
“You don’t need to keep the videos after you’ve checked to make certain one of the cameras didn’t pick up someone shoplifting,” Derek said. “If it did, then save the video to show the police. Otherwise, erase them or you’ll run out of room on your computer for anything else.”
Ms. Wiley hemmed and hawed for a moment before admitting she’d forgotten how he told her to do that, so he showed her again as well as writing the steps down for her.
“You are such a sweetheart,” she said when he finished, patting his arm.
“It’s part of the service,” he replied. “Remember, if you have any problems, call me.”
She promised she would and he left. Since he had no immediate jobs to take care of, he decided to do as he’d said to Joe and stop by the catering company where Ms. Foster worked—and called to let Joe know.
When he entered the company’s front office the woman at the desk across the room was talking with a well-dressed couple, telling them that Mr. Parker would be with them momentarily. After the couple took seats in the waiting area Derek approached the desk, asking the woman if it would be possible to speak with someone in human resources.
“In regards to what?”
“I’m a private detective. In the course of one of my investigations Ms. Irene Foster was mentioned as someone I should speak with. Before I do, I want to find out how reliable she is.” He smiled winningly. “I decided the people she works for would be a good source.”
The woman smiled back before checking her computer. “Mr. Lane is available. I’ll let him know you’re here. Personally, I can tell you that Irene is a wonderful young woman. She treats everyone she comes in contact with as if they were special, even…” She lowered her voice with a glance at the waiting couple. “Even the ones who act as if they were the only people in the world who count for anything, if you get what I’m saying.”
Derek grinned. “I do.”
She called Mr. Lane and moments later he came into the front office, introducing himself to Derek before taking him back to his office. Once again, Derek explained why he was interested in information on Irene Foster. Although more businesslike in his replies than the woman at the front desk, Mr. Lane confirmed what she’d told Derek.
“If we could find ten more like her we’d have the perfect crews to send out on catering jobs.”
“How long has she worked for you?” Derek asked.
“Four years, and not one complaint.” Mr. Lane sighed. “We may lose her, though. She met a man while she was working. From the way she talks about him he walks on water. They’ve been seeing each other for a while and she’s hoping when his divorce is final he’ll ask her to marry him.”
“I hope for her sake he’s not leading her on. She sounds like a nice young lady.”
“She is. Salt of the earth, as they say, so I hope so as well.”
By the time he left, Derek had the distinct impression that Irene Foster was about as far as possible from being the gold-digger Mrs. Burns thought she was. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t do surveillance on her to be certain.
* * * *
“This is boring,” Joe grumbled. It was just after six-thirty and he and Derek had been sitting in Derek’s car for the last half hour, watching Irene Foster’s small house.
“Stakeouts usually are,” Derek replied. “You wait and watch, and if you get lucky the subject goes somewhere and then you wait and watch until they leave, and do it again when they get home or wherever they end up spending the night.”
A few minutes later a car pulled into the driveway, the front door of the house opened, and a pretty young woman stepped into view, putting on her coat. She closed the door, got into the car, and it took off, with Derek tailing it, staying half a block behind.
“The husband?” Joe asked.
“Nope. Wrong car, wrong license plate number. I checked what he drives before we left work this afternoon.”
“Uh-oh.”
Derek laughed. “Did you look at how she was dressed?”
“No, that’s not my thing. I mean, she’s a woman.” Joe frowned. “Should I have?”
“Yes, if you want to be a decent detective. She had on a dark skirt, a white blouse, and sensible black shoes. My guess would be the person who picked her up works for the same catering company and they’re going to a job.”
Derek was proven correct when the car he was following pulled into the parking lot of a large motel next door to an upscale shopping center. Irene got out, along with a young man wearing black slacks. Derek parked as well, and then he and Joe followed the couple into motel.
“You were right,” Joe said a few minutes later. Irene and her companion had headed directly to the ballroom on the second floor, disappearing into a room to one side. Standing in the doorway, he could see dozens of tables set up for what appeared to be a fancy dinner. Women and men, dressed in cocktail dresses and tuxes, milled around with drinks in hand while two servers wandered through with trays holding canapés. “We should join the party,” he told Derek.
Derek snorted softly. “We don’t meet the dress code.”
“Are we going to stick around anyway to make sure she doesn’t sneak out the
back way or start flirting with the male guests?”
“Contrary to what Mrs. Burns thinks, I don’t see that happening,” Derek replied. “I told you the catering company thinks she’s an excellent employee. If she was coming on to the male guests someone would have reported her. Probably the men’s wives or girlfriends.”
Irene and several others from the catering staff appeared carrying trays of appetizers which they distributed on the tables. At that point the guests took their seats and the dinner began.
“Are we going home, now?” Joe asked when they left the motel.
“No. We’ll get some supper then go back to her house to make certain she returns at a reasonable hour, and alone.”
They did as he said, getting to her house around nine-thirty. By then the temperature had taken a nosedive and much to Joe’s dismay it was snowing lightly. “I’m moving to Miami,” he muttered.
“Trading snow for hurricanes?” Derek asked.
“Yeah, there is that.” He sighed. “Arizona?”
Derek took out his phone, then grinned as he showed Joe a news story. “That was today.”
“Holy shit. That’s worse than here. Tell me it’s not snowing in New Orleans.”
Derek checked. “Nope. Rain, but no snow.”
“Not much better,” Joe grumbled. He leaned back, staring out the side window of the car. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d be out in this, again.”
“I don’t think so. You got caught by surprise the last time. By now you’d have found a place at a shelter and hung on to it.”
“A church, because there’s places in them to crash where no one will find you. I should know. I did it a few times between there and here,” Joe said with a small smile. “By the way, you’ve got a lot of faith in my smarts if you think I learned anything from the last storm.”
“I do. You wouldn’t be working for me if I didn’t.”
Joe chuckled. “Now, if you’d get some exciting cases to make it interesting.”
“You don’t like sitting in a warm car watching someone’s house for hours?”
The Detective’s Apprentice Page 6