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Chloe Babineaux Private Investigator

Page 8

by Lisa Clancey


  Chapter Seven

  I drove to a pawn shop that had a good reputation called Dollar Jim’s. Dollar Jim was about my height, five ten and weighed four hundred pounds but was generally in a good mood most times. The shop was filled with guitars, school band instruments, jewelry, (cheap and expensive), and every other useless thing people pawn for money. It seemed to be a good day, Jim was smiling.

  “Hey, Chloe, how’s it hanging?” He asked that every time I came in. I have never heard him ask other women that.

  “Why do you ask me that? Why don’t you ask other women how’s it hanging?” I asked rolling my eyes.

  “Because you expect it from me,” he said, laughing.

  I shook my head and stuck a bland expression on my face. “Anyway, I came in here for a reason and not for the stimulating conversation. Do you know anything about a Foyt family painting? I was told it’s a farm in Shloe.” I looked around the shop looking for paintings. “Do you have any paintings?”

  “Not of a farm that’s not a copy,” he said while looking off in the distance thinking. “Come to think of it; somebody came in here asking the same thing. Is it worth anything?”

  “If I said yes, would you suddenly have heard of it?” I asked with a cocky expression on my face.

  “Chloe, I’m hurt,” he said with his hand on his heart. “How can you think such a thing? I am a legitimate businessman.”

  “And yet, I’m still asking if you know anything about the painting. Could it be hidden behind all those electric guitars? How about those drum sets? How many guitar and drum sets do you have? Oh, my bad, some of them are PS2 or 3 drums and guitars,” I said squinting at the corner of the room.

  “Yeah, I can’t get rid of those things. You want one?”

  “No, I don’t own a game station. Cody does, I’ll ask him if he wants one but probably doesn’t because he just bought the newest PS. Speaking of Cody, you know you can talk to me. I don’t tell him where I get my 4-1-1.” I tried sounding encouraging.

  “I would tell you Chloe, my love, but I really don’t know anything about a painting.” He leaned toward me and asked, leering, “When are you going out with me?”

  “I’m not. You’re married, although your wife would probably thank me. Then again she would probably hug me, and I would suffocate,” I said grinning. His wife, Danielle, was as overweight as he was with the personality to match. They have been married forever, and I think he was a little bit scared of her. Jim loved it that way. He doesn’t like timid women.

   “I love you, Chloe,” he said with a laugh. “You’re the only woman I know that talks to me that way. All the other women take me too seriously.”

  “I know you’re kidding because no one would have you except Danielle. If I thought you were serious, I would never come here without a bodyguard.” We both laughed. I told him thanks gave him a big hug and walked out.

  I was thinking about a guard guarding my body while walking to my truck. Something tells me it’s not half as sexy as it is in movies. I wonder if Sister Angelina is available. Wait a minute, eighteen years ago, and she was ninety so she’d be…108 now. Yeah. Maybe not Sister Angelina, although I bet she can still wield a mean ruler.

  I sat in my truck and dug up my phone, surfed for Petunia’s number and called her. “Hi Petunia, I have a question for you. Did you try any of the pawn shops in the area?” I asked crossing my fingers. Please say yes.

  “Yes, I did,” she said. “I tried all the pawn shops in Alexandria, Shloe, and Gardener, well all those in the surrounding area. Was that alright?”

  Alright? Did she ask if that was alright? “Yes. That’s great. It saves me some time. If you have already gone to them, I don’t have to go back.” Now I know who Dollar Jim had spoken to. I believed him. Jim and I went to school together, so when something came in he knew wasn’t kosher, he called me, and I called Cody. I would tell Cody I had a tip. He knew where the tip came from. But as long as stolen goods were turned in, why fight it?

  I drove to whatshername’s house to see if she was still at home. I saw Rick at work, so I knew they weren’t together. Her car was in the driveway. Her neighborhood had only one way in and one way out, with a convenience store at the beginning of the neighborhood. I’d come back later and wait at the convenience store.

  I had four hours to wait until she left for her class. I went back to my office to look busy. I always had a book in my purse for this exact purpose. Unfortunately, I had time to think. I might as well go to Gardener tomorrow. Petunia suggested I start from the bottom of the list and the bottom of the list ended in Gardener.

  I read the same paragraph of my book three times. I couldn’t concentrate. I was thinking about Rick asking me if I had eaten and then volunteering to help me search for the painting. Did he really think I was pretty? No, he said I was prettier than Cody. Cody’s a man. He may be good looking, but he was far from pretty. One of us should be insulted.

  My friends would drool over him when we were growing up. He would drool over them. It was very sloppy around my house when those hormones were coming into focus.

  I had to stop this. Rick was my brother’s partner. I tried reading again. Great. This book had a lot of sex in it. Not what I need right now.

  I surfed the net and filed my files and then drove back to whatshername’s house to wait for her to leave in her Mini Cooper. I pulled in behind her and followed her to school. I didn’t worry about her spotting me; it was dark outside so she wouldn’t be able to see inside my truck.

  I took lots of photos of her walking inside. I then went home and microwaved my ravioli. I really didn’t want to follow the mighty Mini Cooper back to her house. I really didn’t think she was having an affair; she just didn’t tell her husband about her night classes. But then again she may have been taking classes because she was thinking of leaving her husband. I was an ace detective, so I went back with my camera and took photos of her walking out of school.

  I needed to talk to her about taking cosmetology classes. I hadn’t thought of an excuse to be there, but I’d come up with something.

  I walked outside the building like I was searching for someone and bumped into her.

  “Hey, remember me?” She looked at me trying her best to come up with a name. Yeah, good luck with that. “I bought a watch from you the other morning.” I held up my arm so she could see the watch.

  “Oh yes, I remember.” She either remembered me or was a good actress. “Weren’t you buying it for someone else?” She did remember, go figure. Oh, crap, now what?

  “Yes, I was buying it for my mother but decided to keep it for myself,” I said with a laugh. My eyes widened. Dang, it was for my sister. Oh well, it was for a relative.

  She looked at her watch then back at me, like she was asking me, ‘what are you doing here this late at night?’

  “I’m here meeting a friend. How cool is this? Do you like taking classes here?” I said while looking around as if I was actually looking for someone.

  “Yes, I do. I’m almost through with the class. I’ll be graduating soon.” She gave me a big conspiratorial smile. “It’s a surprise for my husband. He’ll be so proud of me. I’ll be able to make more money doing this, and he won’t have to work so hard. He’s a dump truck driver; with me working in a hair salon, he won’t have to work Saturdays.” She pronounced Saturdays, ‘Saturdees,' waved and walked to her car.

  That was just so sweet. True, she should have told her husband but her heart was in the right place. She’d have to work on Saturdays, but she should be making more money than she does working at the mall. I knew she meant her husband wouldn’t have to work six days a week. I hope he appreciated what she was doing for him.

  Done. I would tell her husband she wasn’t cheating on him. If he insisted on seeing the photos, I would show him. He would have to act surprise. Now I couldn’t remember his name. No worries, I have it written down in my office. I’ll type up the report, and then I’ll call him.

 

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