the winning ticket to the dumbstruck boy. "Now, give me the restroom key."
Driving home, I was trying to recall where I heard the words `number of the day.' Somebody mentioned it recently, but I just couldn't recall. The other burning question was the polygraph test. Two in the afternoon tomorrow was less than twenty-two hours away. I should advise Debbie about that. What was this company's name again? Where was it? Even though the kids were back home, and dinner had to be started shortly, I made a wild turn before entering Mooresville, and went to Joe's office.
CHAPTER 6
Running into the office, I howled, "Joe, I have some new dirt!" He wasn't at his desk. I opened the bathroom door – empty. The kitchen looked deserted as well. Bewildered, I looked in the window to see if his car was in the driveway. A nauseating sense of danger came over me.
"Joe! Joe!" I shouted in panic.
A loud snort from under my boss's desk made me walk around and look there. Joe was lying on the floor with his eyes closed.
"Joe, are you okay there?" I whispered and touched his stomach to make sure he was alive.
"Watch yourself, young lady," he said angrily, and opened one eye for a second. "What do you think you're doing?"
"But, I…"
"You're storming into my office during regular business hours, waking me up from a sound sleep, screaming that you have dirt on my client?"
"But, you…"
"My clients are everything to me. They're above any dirt, like Caesar's wife."
"But, she…"
"By the way, young lady, your husband is about to come back from work; and you're here, touching another man's body. What is that all about?"
"I was looking for your heartbeat."
"For my heartbeat…?" He shook with his impossible laughter. "This is my stomach you were touching. My heart is not in my stomach. No-no, young lady. It's down there. Moo-moo."
No sharp comebacks occurred to me this time around. I got out from under the table and went to the kitchenette to get a cup of coffee. How could he call me a `moo-moo'? I did all this legwork, and that was my reward. Unfair.
"Where is my coffee?"
I turned around and there was my boss, sitting in his huge black leather chair, smoking like a chimney. I offered him my cup.
"Okay, now show me your dirt."
"This morning, Debbie's hubby was arrested for trespassing on her property, stalking, and a gun permit violation."
"Right." Joe was puffing his cigarette, his eyes foggy. "Continue."
"That's it."
"That's it? You spent the whole day of fieldwork just to find out that Pitt Cooper was arrested on his ex-wife's property? I could find it out by just turning on my computer. Nincompoop. Now, listen to my dirt." He emitted a cloud of black smoke. "This morning Debbie had a divorce hearing. She has a Protection From Abuse Order against her ex, and there is no way he should be at her house. However, this is his first trespassing, and if convicted of a misdemeanor, he won't get this conviction on his criminal record. Which is good for him, considering the position he has in his computer company."
"Now, the judge let him off easy and gave him a three hundred dollar fine. You know, the guy is earning more than a hundred thousand dollars a year. He represents himself as if he doesn't have any money. He opens his mouth and says that he will appeal. The judge says, `Thank you for telling us that. Then, it's a five hundred dollar fine. Thank you very much.' But the most important thing is that his appeal is going straight on the docket for the next hearing. This way, the guy had got a criminal case against him. He brought it on himself! Next time he shows up at her house, it's a repeat offense and he gets convicted of a felony and goes to prison. He didn't understand it when he threatened an appeal to the judge. He wanted to piss off the judge as he did during the five years of custody battle, but this time he was pissing against the wind." My boss lit up the next cigarette.
"Do you realize you're a chain smoker?" I asked, showing that I cared about his health.
"Now, you're digging dirt on me, babe? Don't even start. I know more about you than you know about yourself."
"Good for you." I stopped for a moment, trying to recall stuff in my life that was worth hiding.
"Where was I?" my boss asked me.
"The guy was pissing…"
My boss's black eyes smiled.
"Right… Now, the police searched his car and found a gun. A real live gun."
"That's what I was talking about. He wants to kill her, to have the last word in their divorce. She is in danger."
"No kidding?" Joe leaned against his chair. "Well, what do we have to worry about? She didn't pay upfront. If he kills her, we just close the case. Done deal."
I left Joe's office with his promise to come for dinner. Back home, I found Iris sitting on the couch in the living room, watching TV. Evana was in the kitchen chopping vegetables for dinner.
"Is everything okay?" I asked, acting more from motherly duty than really caring.
Evana nodded.
"We're cooking dinner for everybody," Larissa put in her ten cents, in case I didn't notice.
Suddenly, Iris came stomping into the kitchen.
"No," she shouted, tears flying off her rosy cheeks. "Something bad happened. Something terrible happened, and nothing is okay."
"What happened?" I lowered myself onto a bar stool, just in case.
"She signed up for a cheerleading practice and didn't tell me." Iris pointed at Evana with a dramatic gesture. "I wanted to sign up too. I'm the one with a great fit and a good voice to cheer here."
That was only partially true. Since she was born, Iris has been gifted with a very loud, high-pitched voice. Sounds she was making demanding food could be used as a weapon of mass destruction if recorded.
"Evana, how did you sign up for the practice?" I asked my stepdaughter.
"Dad did it, I don't know how," Evana replied, looking very upset. "I'm sorry. I didn't know Iris wanted to do cheerleading also. It's something I wanted to do for the last couple of years, but Dad was busy, but this year he says I should start."
"Mom, do you hear that? A cheerleading practice! I get nothing in this family." My sweet angel ran out of the kitchen sobbing.
"Call my coach. Maybe she needs another student," offered generous Evana. I, myself, decided to talk to Iris about such family values as her stepfather's wealth, and her right to get a piece without tears and hysteria.
My talk helped, and we had a relatively relaxing dinner on the porch next to the grill, consuming a great amount of barbequed chicken and prime ribs. Our shepherd sat next to me, breathing hot and drooling on my leg. I gave him a piece of meat when Alex turned his back to me.
"No feeding the dog at the table," Alexander said, without looking.
"Maybe Rachel should take a nap," Larissa suddenly suggested to my husband. "She woke up in the middle of the night, went outside and was absent for about an hour. She might have insomnia. I worry about her."
Alexander looked at me with a newfound interest. Secret about my investigating job burned a hole in me, but the story of the toilet tanks held me back.
"Elvis woke me up," I lied, petting the dog's silky fur. "He had an upset stomach and needed a long walk."
"Elvis should be on a diet and eat only the vet-recommended food," Alexander said wearily. "And you keep feeding him human food at the table."
Yeah, right! What have dogs been eating for the last ten thousand years? Human food! They stuck around us because of pancakes and prime ribs. However, I didn't plan to argue with my husband tonight, but would simply get into my cozy bed and cuddle up with the new Janet Evanovich mystery novel.
Past midnight, I suddenly remembered