Chloe Babineaux Private Investigator

by Lisa Clancey

  Chapter Ten

  Brent had gone on to Cheri’s apartment, and Cheri walked me to mine. Our friends had said they were going to eat lunch with us in our office tomorrow. They did that a couple of times a week. They said they liked the people they worked with; they just had to get away sometimes. It’s not like they had to go far, Felicia worked on one side of us at the Mattress Store as an accountant and Nona worked on the other side as a nurse for the dermatologist office. Tammy was a loan officer at the Region bank across the street. I really think she had the scariest job. I mean, someone gets turned down for a loan or something and bam, they pull a gun. She was also my loan officer for the loan for my truck.

  “So, are you sure you’re alright? Besides the bruises you are bound to have but aren’t telling anybody about,” she said with a hard look on her face.

  “Yeah, besides that I’m fine. Listen, you really need to talk to Brent. You can’t leave him hanging for long. Either you tell him you’ll marry him in say…soon or not at all.”

  “Oh no! Did he say something? Did he hint he wanted to break up?” she asked wide-eyed.

  “No,” I laughed. “I’m just tired of his hang-dog look.”

  “Oh, thank goodness. Yeah, when you almost got yourself blown up, it made me think about life. Who knows how much longer we have? And the way you drive I might not have that much longer to live.” She grinned.

  “Have you ever heard the saying? Go away, don’t go away mad, just go away,” I said glaring.

  She gave me a big hug and said, “I love you too. Call your mama and tell her about this.”

  She waved as she walked out the door. Mama. I have to call my mother. She was going to be so mad at me for not calling her earlier. I didn’t want my parents at the hospital; I knew I wouldn’t be there that long and my mother had high blood pressure. I didn’t want to call them until I knew for sure nothing was wrong. Okay, I knew long before I left nothing was wrong. So slap my hand, I didn’t call them. My mother would have had the nurses running around taking my temperature, giving me water or something else I really didn’t need. Besides Rick wouldn’t have flirted with me if she was there. Was he flirting? Did I flirt back? No, I don’t think I did. I did laugh when he asked for my number knowing he already had it. Oh, great. Now I was waiting for a man to call. Not good.

  I took a shower and changed into sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Okay, I was comfy, so I could call my mother. One more thing I had to do first. I walked over to my refrigerator and took out a beer. Okay, now I was ready. No, first I had to call my friends Tammy, Nona, and Felicia and let them know I’m home and alive. That done, it was time to call my parents.

  “Hey Daddy, what’s going on?” I said when he answered the phone.

  “Not much just walked in the door.” He’s a plumber and owns his own business. “What’s going on?”

  “Oh…not much, I was in the ER a little while ago,” I said making a face.

  “Oh? What happen? You weren’t in an accident were you?” he asked trying to disguise his concern.

  “Um…no I was following up on an investigation, and a propane tank blew up,” I said as casually as I could.

  It didn’t work. “What? A propane tank blew up? A small one used for grills?” He was shocked and talking way too loud.

  “Um…no, the kind used for homes. You know the big round concrete k…kind.” I was stammering. I was afraid he was going to start yelling.

  Instead, my mother yelled. “What blew up? Is anybody hurt? Is Cody alright?”

  “No, it’s not Cody, it’s Chloe. Chloe was in the ER,” my father corrected her.

  She must have grabbed the phone from him because she started fussing at me. “Chloebeth, are you alright? What are you doing messing around with propane tanks? Where did this happen and why didn’t you call us?” Elizabeth is my middle name, but my mother is the only one who calls me that but only when she’s put out.

  “It happened in Gardener, and I wasn’t messing around with it. Tell Daddy to pick up another phone so I won’t have to say this twice, and it won’t get twisted in the translation.”

  Daddy picked up another line and told me to start from the beginning.

  “I was hired to locate a painting. It’s not stolen, it’s just lost, and a family member probably has it. No big deal. I walked around a house checking to see if someone was in the backyard because no one answered the door. Evidently, someone was home and didn’t like me poking around the house; I don’t know maybe they’ve been having bill collectors come to the house. Anyway, someone started shooting at me, and the tank blew. I wasn’t hurt, I’m fine,” I added quickly.

  “You should have called us, Chloe.” Daddy said slowly. He didn’t sound happy.

  “I know,” I said, sounding contrite.

  “Does Cody know?” Mama asked.

  “Yes, I called Cody, and since I was at Rapides General, Morgan was there.” I closed my eyes preparing myself for the fallout.

  “What?” I had to move the phone away from my ear. My mother can get loud. “You called Cody but not us?”

  “Look, the next time I end up in a hospital, I’ll call you. I promise.” I was crossing my fingers. Don’t say it. Please don’t say it.

  “I know you like your job, but Chloe, someone is shooting at you,” my father said, stating the obvious.

  “You need to date more. Maybe if you got married, you wouldn’t take on these dang fool investigations.” Yeah, she said it. This was too good; I had to comment on this.

  “Did you say the words date and marriage together?”

  “Chloe…” my mother said as my door bell rang.

  “Oh, there’s my door now. Maybe it’s someone wanting to date me…” I opened the door as I was saying, “He’ll stay the night, I’ll get pregnant, and I’ll have to get married.” Standing at the door holding Chinese takeout and beer was Rick. Perfect.

  I picked my jaw up off the floor while my mother was saying, “Well, at least now you’re saying you’ll get married. There was a time you would never marry if you were pregnant.”

  “No. I won’t get married if I’m pregnant.”

   “Who’s at the door?” My mother asked.

  “A friend. I gotta go. I love ya’ll. And I’m fine.” I hung up the phone before either one could ask me who was at the door again.

  Rick was standing there looking all smug holding food in one hand and beer in the other. I wasn’t feeling all that smug. I was feeling kind of embarrassed. I don’t turn red, but if I did, I was sure I would be about every shade of red in a sixty-four box of crayons. I let my breath out in a rush. I realized I was holding my breath.

  “Who were you talking to? But the big question. Was that an invite?” he asked grinning his sexy grin. He knows he’s sexy. He must know he’s sexy. Otherwise, he wouldn’t look so damn sexy.

  “I was talking to my mother; she thinks I should date more. And no, it was not an invite,” I said leaning against the door frame, not inviting him in.

  “Can I come in?” he said holding his hands up. “I have food and beer.”

  “No.”

  “We both have to eat. Come on, let me in so we can both eat and then I’ll go.” He smiled.

  “Fine. I’m out of beer anyway,” I said moving away from the door. I took the beer from him and walked to the refrigerator, throwing my empty bottle away. It clanged but thank goodness it was the only one in the can or else it would have really clanged. I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I did have to eat, and I like Chinese. I also wanted another beer.

  I grabbed plates, forks, bottle opener and spoons to dish out the food and sat at my round table across from Rick. I thought he was just going to call me. Not show up with food. Don’t get me wrong, I liked food and beer, but from Rick? I wasn’t so sure. Who was I kidding? I liked it just fine. I had to act like I didn’t. I had a reputation to keep up. Being a smartass was a talent, and I had it down to an art.

  “I hope you like Chinese. I
brought sweet and sour chicken and green peppers and beef and of course egg rolls,” he said opening the boxes.

  “I don’t like sweet and sour, but I love green peppers and beef,” I said, helping myself to the rice and beef.

  Rick twisted the beers open and said, “To a beautiful smile. I’m glad it’s still where it belongs and not spread across Gardener.” He grinned.

  A car door slammed, I flinched and said, “Me and you both.” I held up my beer to touch his.

  “Does Cody know you’re here?” I asked between bites.

  “No, do you want me to call him?” he asked with a laugh.

  I widened my eyes and shook my head. On cue, the phone rang. I took my beer with me to answer the phone. Cody. “Hey.”

  “Hey, I hear you talked to Mama. She and Daddy aren’t happy we didn’t call them.” He was fixing dinner, and I could hear his kids saying something about fries.

  “I know. I promised them the next time I end up in the hospital I’d call them.”

  He laughed and said, “I told them the same thing.”

  “Wait. Hold on. You told them the next time I’m in the hospital you would call them? Your faith in me is so overwhelming. I’m touched, but I would rather bop you on the head right now.”

  He laughed again and said, “I was calling to check up on you. I told Mama and Daddy you were fine. I can’t believe you told them you were shot at. That wasn’t real bright.”

  “You’re the bright one. That’s why they call you son. I figured someone would let it slip—Morgan—so I went ahead and told them and got it out the way.”

  “Yeah, she probably would have and then blamed it on me for not telling them. I just called to see how you were doing. I love you.”

  “I love you too.” We hung up, and I walked back to the table.

  Rick grinned and asked, “You didn’t tell Cody I was here making sure you had something to eat?”

  “Believe it or not, I’m not as dumb as I look,” I said with an arrogant smile.

  He laughed at that, shook his head, and then asked, “Why did you drop out of the police academy?” Clearly, Cody and Rick talked about me. But dang, that question came out of the blue.

  I cocked my head and asked, “Why did you drop out of the Navy, Mr. SEAL?”

  He shrugged his shoulders and said, “I stopped a couple of bullets.” I couldn’t believe it. Like it was no big deal, he says he stopped a couple of bullets.

  “It must have been pretty bad for you to have to leave the Navy. Where were you shot?”

  He shook his head and said, “I can’t tell you.” He smiled mischievously.

  “No, I mean where on your body were you shot? Cody couldn’t tell us where he was either.” I narrowed my eyes and asked, “By the way, why do you and Cody get along? I thought SEALs and Marines didn’t like each other.”

  “We usually don’t. But Cody’s a good man.” He gave me a long hard look and said, “My shoulders. I got shot in my shoulders.” He didn’t clarify, and I didn’t ask. What did he mean shot in the shoulders? Couldn’t he have surgery, healed and continued on his merry way? Obviously he wasn’t going to say anything more about it. I could wait him out. I’d ask again later.

  We looked at each other and then I got up and turned on TV for noise while finishing our meal. When we had finished, he said, “Now, it’s your turn. Why did you drop out of the police academy? And don’t tell me it’s because you have a problem with authority.” How did he know about the authority thing?

  “I’m not drunk enough.” I got up, put the plates and silverware in the dishwasher and threw away the empty boxes. I read my fortune cookie and then ate it. Yeah right. ‘Good things are coming your way.’ I grabbed another beer for the both of us and went to the living room. Rick was sitting on the sofa watching the news. And there it was. The explosion in Gardener. Thank God, no video of it. My parents watched the news religiously so now they knew all there was to know. I mean, after all, if the anchorman was saying it, it must be true. Although, he said it was a gas leak.

  Rick was sitting in the middle of the sofa, so I had to sit next to him…not. I could have sat in my recliner, but I could see the TV better from the couch. Obviously, I was lying. Who places a recliner in a room and not put it where you can see the TV best while sitting in it? Certainly not me.

  He placed his feet on the coffee table which was very inconsiderate of him. But since I had my feet on it first I really couldn’t say anything. I have to admit he looked relaxed. It could be because I was on my fourth beer and I was very relaxed. I was a cheap drunk; it doesn’t take me much to get a good buzz on, and since this was my fourth one, I was well on my way to drunkenness. I really had to slow down; my tongue was going numb.

  We watched TV a while when it hit me. “Why are you still here? I thought you said you were leaving after we ate?” Good God, my words were slurring, and I was weaving. At least I think I was weaving. Maybe he was weaving.

  “You haven’t told me why you dropped out of the police academy,” he said with a blank face.

  I finished my beer and said, “I can’t tell you. I can’t feel my tongue, and I can’t see what I’m saying.” He looked at me funny and laughed.

  “Wait, that didn’t come out right. I think I’m getting my swerve on.” I can’t feel my tongue when I’m drunk. I meant to say he couldn’t understand what I was saying. I was well passed starting to slur my words.

  “I think I can interpret,” he said, turning to me and grinning.

  I looked at him for about an hour and then said, “Let me see the scars.”

  “What is it with women and scars?” he asked shaking his head.

  “You want to see my scars; I want to see yours.” His eyes grew big.

  “I don’t actually have scars, phishi…phishi, on my body. Well…one, but that’s another story completely.” I was like a bee in a tree with the wind blowing. Swaying and buzzing.

  “Oh, hell.” I sat on his lap straddling his body. “If you aren’t gonna show me I’ll just have to do it myself.” I pulled off his knit collared shirt that read S.P.D. with an embroidered shield and then his black long sleeve T-shirt that said New Orleans Saints Champions XLIV in gold letters.

  He didn’t stop me. He let me take it off. I stared at his shoulders. Both of them had big scars with a fine straight scar encircling his shoulders.

  “Does this mean I can take your shirt off now?” He grinned, grabbing the end of my sweatshirt.

  “No, you can’t. I’m drunk, not comatose. Damn, that must have hurt.” I gently touched both shoulders. “What kind of gun was it?”

  “A .22,” he said unblinkingly.

  “Nah-uh, it couldn’t have been. He must have held it to your…”

  I sat there unblinking, barely breathing. I couldn’t believe it. I held a .22 on him, and he barely flinched. I would have run screaming.

  “Oh, no. I held a .22 on you. I feel… besides drunk and very dizzy, embarrassed,” I said with a pained look on my face.

  “I knew you wouldn’t shoot me.” He shrugged and corrected himself. “I was hoping you weren’t gonna shoot me. You didn’t know me. You had to keep me away and believe me, having a gun held to me was a definite soft on.” He grinned. “Are you ever gonna tell me why you were near my house? Did Cody tell you he had a new partner and you were checking me out?”

  I shook my head and groaned, “Oh God, no he didn’t tell me he had a new partner. Well, he said he was getting one, but he didn’t say anything about you, Mr. Egotistical.” I took a deep breath and decided to come clean. “Do you know a woman named…uh…hell what is her name? Adamson, that’s it. Uh…something Adamson.” I said thinking.

  “Savannah Adamson? Yeah, I know her, why?” He asked narrowing his eyes.

  “Her husband thought ya’ll were having an affair,” I said it quick. I thought if I said it fast enough it would be less painful for me.

  “Hardly,” he laughed. “I don’t go out with married women. So yo
u were there checking me out. I knew it. Why else would you be on that road?”

  “Maybe, but you didn’t know I was there for that reason, Mr. High opinion-of-yourself. And she wasn’t cheating. She was taking a cosmetology class to surprise her husband.”

  He laughed again. He had such a nice laugh and a fantastic body. Oh, I was weaving again. He pulled my head down kissed me gently and asked, “Why did you drop out of the police academy?”

  The door to the apartment next door slammed shut, and I flinched again. I crawled off his lap, sat sitting sideways so I could look at him and handed him his shirts. He really needed to put them back on. I also wanted another beer but didn’t want to get up to get it. Maybe if I was wasted, I would pass out and wouldn’t talk anymore.

  I took a deep breath, exhaled loudly and said, “I was really enjoying the academy. It was hard, but I liked it, you know?” He nodded. “You went through SEALs training, Cody the Marines but I felt good about myself for doing this.” He nodded again agreeing with me. “One day I had forgotten a book in one of the classrooms, so before leaving, I ran back inside to get it. The defense instructor was walking toward me.” I wanted to move my legs so I could sit straight and not look at him but he put his hand on my knee and shook his head. I lowered my head instead. “The instructor smiled at me and said he could use my help to carry some things to his class. I told him about my book, and he said no problem he would make sure I had got it before I left.”

  I took a deep breath still not looking up. “He opened the door to a closet, shoved me and in about one second flat I was on the floor lying on my stomach.” I looked up in his face and said, “He was the defense instructor.”

  He nodded and said, “Yeah.”

  ”Anyway,” I said and shook my head, “he took his belt off, looped it around my wrists and shoved a handkerchief in my mouth.” I tried to smile and asked, “Can you believe I thought, ‘If there’s snot on this thing I’m gonna throw up?’” He didn’t smile back but looked into my eyes intently. I took another deep breath. “He pushed down on my back with his foot as he unfastened his pants. He then turned me over pulled my pants down, but he was sitting on my legs so I couldn’t move them. I know, SEAL man, you would have gotten away. I should have hit him with both fists since my hands were together.”

  I shook my head seeing it all happening again and lowered my head. I didn’t want to see his expression; it was all too real. He kept his hand on my knee but gripped it a little harder. “He kept telling me I looked like his dead wife when she was my age. She was killed in a hit and run, a DUI. Just before penetration, I heard people talking. When they were near the door, I grunted and kicked the door as loud and as hard as I could. It wasn’t much, and he had slapped me and entered me to keep me quiet, but I couldn’t give up. Two instructors heard me and opened the door.” I paused, “Later, he said he raped me because I looked so much like his wife when she was killed. Like that was a good excuse to…Never mind it’s over.”

  I looked back up, and his face was tight, and his jaw clenched. I shrugged and said, “And that is why I dropped out of cop school. I was offered a full scholarship, but I refused. That’s why I do what I do now. I don’t have laws restricting me as much as you do.” I slightly smiled and said, “Better to do it and apologize than not be able to do it all.”

  He held my chin in his hand and said, “You did right. Sometimes it’s better if you don’t fight it, go along with him. I’m also proud of you for making as much noise as you could when the time was right.” I nodded. “Is he still around?” he asked.

  “No, he died. He had some kind of fast growing cancer and died in prison before Cody came home from the Marines. And thanks for saying…you know, about being proud. I sure as hell didn’t feel proud. Later I thought about all the things I should’ve done.”

  He smiled sadly and said, “I’m sure Cody wanted to have a little talk with him, just as I did. And it’s natural to second guess yourself.” Talk wasn’t what he and Cody wanted to do, but it sounded better than beat the living shit out of him.

  “Yeah, he wanted to talk to him, but it’s over.” I shook my head and said, “Man, if I wasn’t this drunk I would never have told you. I never tell anyone what happened.” I narrowed my eyes. “It’s okay for me to tell you about my past but you can’t tell me about yours. No fair.”

  “I can tell you about my past.” He grinned, but it was forced. “I just can’t tell you where I’ve been.”

  I swayed a few more minutes and then said, “I’ll ask you about your past when I’m sober. You have to go home now. I’m exhausted; I’m going to bed. Alone,” I said alone a bit too loud.

  “I’m sleeping on your couch. You flinch every time a door slams. Maybe you’ll sleep better with me out here.” He looked toward my bedroom and added with a smirk, “Unless you’re lonely.”

  “I’ll get you a blanket and pillow,” I said walking toward my room. What was I doing letting him sleep on my couch? I sat on his lap and took his shirt off for crissakes. How could I have done that?

  I tossed him a blanket and pillow and went to bed.