I'm told I have a
suspicious mind. I prefer to say I have a healthy dose of cynicism
with a spot of paranoia. Though
it is true, I am suspicious. Crime is all around us. Every day
someone gets robbed or killed and the police can't find a clue.
That's why a guy like me is necessary.
Bill Sussman, Private Eye.
My career started in
the second grade when little Myron Golden lost his marbles, twelve of
them, plus an Aggy. Someone stole them from his coat pocket at
recess. I found those marbles. Who but me would have thought that
Vera Teigler was capable of such a heinous crime? And at such a
tender age.
From there, I
progressed to bigger things, each case more impressive than the last.
In middle school, I uncovered the gang responsible for the graffiti
on the bathroom walls. In high school, I uncovered a term paper
forgery business by posing as a football player in need of a grade
fix. None of my discoveries made
me very popular with my classmates, but sometimes a man has to do the
tough jobs whether he gets extra swirlies or pantsed in gym class.
Let's not forget my
biggest case to date, the Japanese Sumo Wrestling Pornography Ring!
Okay, so I was wrong that Mr. Sato had a porn studio in back of his
sushi shop. But he was fronting for a bookie, so my suspicions about
illegal activity were correct.
Things have been a
little slow lately, so I've been taking any case that comes my way.
I'm not proud of the fact I'm doing car repos or following deadbeat
dads, but it puts food on the table.
So imagine my
surprise when the blonde walked in. My suspicious nature kicked in
the second she opened the door.
Trouble had just entered my office. She was a real babe, tall, thin,
willowy - like Lauren Bacall in The Big Sleep. Dressed in
silk and smelling like Chanel No. 5, she stood across the desk from
me. My knees were weak as I stood to greet her.
"Please, have a
seat, Miss?"
"Oh, Mr.
Sussman, you have to help me!" She burst into tears.
I handed her a box
of tissues. She nodded her thanks and cried like crazy. Not many
babes can cry like that and
not move their makeup. Bill Sussman's suspicious nature stood up and
said hello.Any woman who's
sobbing like her heart is broken is gonna leave tracks. Her eyes go
red, her face turns puffy. Not this chick. My professional mien
descended like a lead zeppelin.
"How may I help
you?" I tried again.
"I'm so sorry,"
she gulped and sobbed, looking just as perfect as when she walked in.
The tissues clutched
in her well manicured hands were dry as a bone. She kept her head
down and her hands in her lap. I moved around to the front of the
desk, leaning against the edge.
"It's me, Bill.
Vera Teigler. Don't you recognize me anymore?"
"Little Vera
Teigler from second grade?" My smile nearly split my face in
two. "How ya been, Vera?"
"A little of
this, a little of that," she said with a funny smile that made
me very suspicious indeed. "A lot better than you, you low life
creep!"
And suddenly I'm
looking at the business end of a snub nosed pistol. I figured I had
two choices, grab the gun or put up my hands. Bill Sussman ain't a
hero, dig? My hands flew up and I got real nervous.
"Hey, Vera. I'm
sorry about the marbles, okay?"
"This isn't
about the marbles, you freak! It's about Andy!"
"Andy? Andy
who?"
"Tucker. Andy
Tucker, my boyfriend. Don't you know anything?"
"Come to think,
that name rings a bell or two."
"You were
following him because his wife hired you to find out who he was
seeing on the side. He was seeing me!" She screamed at me. The
gun wavered in her hand.
"Well, sorry
about that, Vera. Didn't mean to put a dent in your love life."
"She shot him,
you idiot! Shot him dead! You killed the only man I ever loved! I
hate you, Bill Sussman!"
My choices had just
narrowed to one. I leaped at her, grabbing the barrel of the gun,
pushing it out of my face as she pulled the trigger. I felt the
bullet whiz past my ear, the sound of the explosion loud in the small
office. I got the gun away from her, holding it carefully so my
prints wouldn't get on the grip.
"It's over,
Vera. I'm sorry about Andy, but business is business."
"Yeah, well, he
was a pretty lousy boyfriend. Sorry about the gun." She brushed
her hair out of her face. "So, Bill, you seeing anybody?"
"No," I
grinned. "So, Vera, want to go out for a cup of coffee and talk
about old times?"
"Sure,"
she said, taking my arm.
I smirked. Yeah,
life comes at a guy fast, but sometimes it tosses in a hell of a
ride.
©
Dellani Oakes
For more of Dellani's books, check out
Indian Summer, Lone Wolf and The Ninja Tattoo on
Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Smashwords.
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