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Showing posts from November, 2020

Beautiful Day Wrecks Writing, Make it Up Tomorrow

 Something about writing, being as it is NaNoWriMo And something about politics, since all the counting seems to be coming to a close.

Sometimes that’s all you can ask for

CRAZY DEADLY COOL, continued... “Let’s go.” He said to the girl without looking at her. He glared at me, giving me those cold, dumb eyes. Letting me know he was a mean dude, that he was choosing this, and that me and my gun had nothing to do with this. Letting me know that if he got the chance, he’d show me who was boss. He backed up half a dozen steps out of the parking lamps before turning and walking away. I don’t think I ever look that cool when I run away. “You got yourself a real winner there, Caitlyn. Maybe you ought to reevaluate before you get yourself into real trouble. A pretty girl like you can do better than that.” I had a bad feeling they were going to get themselves into trouble tonight, maybe every night from now on. “You need a lift home?” The girl stood there watching me for a moment, her eyes cool but not without interest. She did a three-point look. A glance at the car. A quick check to see if Shawn was waiting, he wasn’t. Then back to me. Weighing the situation or

I might have been doing an investigation, but the undercover part meant that I did actually have to work there

  Crazy Deadly Cool, continued... “Besides, you didn’t seem to mind using my employee discount to buy that laptop for your boy, so cut me a break.” “Yeah, thanks again for that,” he said, “he uses that damn thing constantly.”  “Consider it one of the perks of the job,” I said. “Anyway, yeah, I finished that up. Turns out that not only did they have theft in the pharmacy, but they also had a problem with one of the managers creating a hostile work environment.” “Sexual harassment?” “Got it in one.” I held my pointing finger and showed him both sides. “So in addition to my not insubstantial fee, my months’ worth of minimum wages, they floated me a nice little bonus.” I kept throwing up fingers as I counted my points.  “Sounds like it worked out for you, despite having to wear that vest. Good for you.” Dave said. “But don’t be surprised if your employee ID pic shows up around the station. The guys love that shit.” “Great. Can’t wait. But I’ve got something else to show you and I think you

Her hand drifted up to her pearl necklace and she gave me an understanding smile

  ...continued... “Would you feel better with the door closed?” I asked, motioning her to one of the padded chairs in front of my desk. She waved the idea away as if it didn’t matter. I left the door open. Maybe Lucy would learn something from watching this book smart PI in action. “So what makes you think your husband is cheating on you Mrs. Upheim.” I moved around to the business side of my desk, sat down, and pulled a pen and note pad from the drawer. A good detective always takes notes. At the top of the page I wrote ‘Erin Upheim - Client’ and ‘Cheating Husband’ below it. I’m thorough like that. “A woman knows these things. There are signs.” She was right. The people I see in here who suspect their spouse is cheating are almost always right. They don’t come to me to confirm it. They come to me to catch the cheating bastard or bitch. You live with someone, you notice patterns. Those patterns change, you notice. “Woman’s intuition?” “No, Mr. Hale. Nothing so unimaginative.” She put u

I still ask myself if I knew what I was doing.

 ...continued... I sipped the coffee, winced at the taste of the stuff, and set it on the table.  “I had a few late night calls.” I said. “No. Seriously?” Lucy shook her head at my slow nod, “Amber again? Didn’t we just go through this.” “Yep. Not quite three months now.” I looked at the coffee, I was afraid to drink the stuff. There are reasons I get to the office first most mornings. “What?” She demanded. “Nothing. I mean… Shit, Lucy, how do you not grow hair on your chest drinking this stuff.” “There’s nothing wrong with my coffee,” She said and took a drink from her own mug, letting me get a good look at the message on the side of the black mug, 'Fuck you You Fuckin' Fuck'. My Lucy, she's all class. “I could stand a spoon up in this stuff, but thanks, it’ll keep me going all day.” I picked up the mug and toasted her health, said a silent prayer, and took a mouthful. That seemed to satisfy her. “So what’s going on this time?” “No idea. Fish thinks it's Amber too,

Giving This One Another Go

ONE The phone vibrated and rattled across the bulkhead for the sixth time in half as many hours. I know, because I hadn't slept since the first time it happened at three thirty-seven this morning. I was sleeping then. Fish, my giant, slobbering Newfoundland hound woofed a wake-up, just in case I hadn't heard it buzzing against the wood like an agitated wasp’s nest. Fish knew who it was. I didn't, but in my defense, I was mostly asleep when I mumbled a blind, “Hale” into the phone. That’s me, Joshua Hale, personal detective, and in my business, you never know who's going to call or when. There had been a long silence, the kind that lets you know the line is still open, but the creepy heavy breathing is missing, and then the line went dead. I looked at my watch and then I looked at Fish, who gave me bright eyes in the darkness. I didn't bother to check the caller ID, it would be blocked, as usual. We both knew it was going to be one of those nights. The Coconut Attitu