There was a parking space near his building, and after some juggling of keys he manhandled the container to the condo and pushed his way through the front door. His phone rang as he was stepping into the foyer, and he muttered a curse as he dropped the carton in the entry hall and felt for his cell.
“Hey. I tried calling you earlier, but you didn’t pick up,” Monica said.
“What? Oh, shit. I forgot my phone in the car. No wonder. Where are you?”
He peered into the darkened living room and flipped on the lights. “I just got home.”
“Perfect. You hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Want to hit Caruzzo’s? I could go for their veal…”
“That sounds great. You want to meet me here or at the restaurant?” Jeffrey asked.
“I’ll come by. Say, twenty minutes?”
“That will give me just enough time to rinse the dust off and slip into something more comfortable.”
“Okay. See you then,” she said, and hung up.
He hoisted the box and lugged it into the spare bedroom, then undressed as he moved through the rooms, finishing by hopping on one leg as he wrestled his pants off, narrowly avoiding falling face first on the floor before he threw the bathroom door open and cranked the water on. Ten minutes later he was standing naked in his bedroom, debating which shirt to wear, when the street buzzer echoed through the condo, sounding like the wrong answer on a television game show. He grabbed the green polo shirt directly in front of him and pulled it over his head as he hurried to the intercom, held down the black button for a few moments, and jogged back to the bedroom for pants.
When the knock came at the door he was standing near it, barefoot, brushing his fingers through his damp hair. He twisted it open, and Monica stepped through, moving directly to him and planting a long kiss on his lips.
“Hmm. I missed you,” she purred.
“Me too,” he said, a twinge of guilt accompanying the words as a vision of Kaycee popped into his consciousness, immediately followed by Jakes’ craggy countenance.
“You planning to go out like that? Do the hippie barefoot thing? I’m cool with it if you are, although I think the restaurants generally insist on shoes for service,” she teased, looking down at his feet. “You’re not in San Francisco anymore.”
“I’ll be ready in no time. You’re early,” he said, kissing her forehead.
“Traffic was nonexistent coming here.”
“That’s lucky,” he said, and detached from her and headed back to the bedroom. “Give me two minutes,” he called over his shoulder, disappearing through the doorway.
She set her purse on the dining room table and walked to the refrigerator. “We need to go to the grocery store tomorrow. All you have is water, beer, and wine.”
Jeffrey reappeared wearing shoes and carrying a jacket. “And water comes out of the tap for free. A waste of valuable beer space, if you ask me,” he said with a grin.
“How did it go today?”
“Sort of a disaster, but I expected that. Next time I’ll mark the boxes so I know what’s in them. This way I had to unpack everything to find what I wanted, then re-pack it all again. Big pain in the ass, but it’s over now, and I could eat a horse.”
“Which is probably what they make the lasagna with.”
“That’s fine. You put enough cheese on anything and I’ll eat it. Ready?”
“Lead the way. Unless you’re feeling frisky first,” she said, the offer unmistakable.
The guilty feeling returned, but he shrugged it away. “Can I get a rain check? I hardly ate anything for lunch.”
“Poor baby. You need to keep your strength up.”
“Exactly. Although beer has calories, so I could always chug one and then…”
“Come on. Let’s get you fed. I hate it when my studs fade early from starvation,” she said, and took his hand. She smelled great, as always, and any trace of suspicion evaporated. What had Jakes been thinking? And why had Jeffrey let himself be talked out of his money so easily on a snipe hunt? He didn’t need the PI to tell him that Monica was exactly what she seemed to be. He’d never been more sure of anything in his life.
TWENTY-SIX
Further Information
“I’d like to get together with you today, if possible. Meet at the same bar at seven?” Jakes asked, his voice emotionless over the pay phone around which the Monday lunch crowd milled like ants.
“Sure, but can’t you just give me the high points over the phone?” Jeffrey asked. The connection was terrible, and he strained to make out any nuance over the roar of traffic.
“I’d rather do it in person. See you at seven,” Jakes said before disconnecting.
Jeffrey stared at the phone and replaced the handset, a sense of foreboding stewing in his stomach. Then his logical side reminded him that the man was likely going through the motions so that Jeffrey felt like it had been money well spent — the insistence on an in-person meeting to close the case was undoubtedly stylistic, probably so that he could get a check for the final balance at the same time.
He paused as he stared at the pay phone, and considered calling the number Kaycee had given him. There was no reason he could think of for doing so, and after an internal debate he abandoned the idea in favor of returning to work and earning his considerable keep.
Seven rolled around before he knew it, and he begged off with Monica again in favor of doing his own laundry and running errands in preparation for the Switzerland trip, now only two days away. When he entered the darkened pub, he immediately spotted Jakes at the same table as the last time, and after a glance around the place, walked over and sat across from him.
“So? I’m here. What do you have for me?” Jeffrey asked, eyes trailing the bartender as he meandered over to them to take their order. “I’ll take a draft ale, please. Jakes?”
“Coke.”
The bartender nodded and returned to the bar as Jeffrey studied Jakes’ poker face.
“Let’s wait for your drink so we aren’t interrupted,” Jakes said, his voice raspy as a tractor-trailer’s exhaust.
“Fair enough. Is it so bad I’m going to need something stronger?” Jeffrey joked, then his smile faded as Jakes’ expression didn’t change. “What did you find?”
The bartender returned with the drinks, and Jakes leaned back in his chair, which creaked under the bulk of his weight. He fixed Jeffrey with a weary stare and then reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small note pad.
“We can start with her living situation. She doesn’t live with two roommates. She actually has a very nice apartment about nine blocks away in a high-end building that ain’t cheap. So the bit about the roommates isn’t true.”
“Wait. How do you know that she doesn’t have roommates?”
“Only one name on the box, and for a hundred bucks the custodian told us that she’s the only one in the place.” Jeffrey scowled, and Jakes held up a hand to stop any protest. “I used a female to do it, and trust me, the custodian isn’t going to be talking.”
“Shit. Are you positive?”
“I do this for a living, remember?”
“Yeah. So I heard. Thanks for the car, by the way.”
“There were no new blood stains in it, so I’m glad it came in handy.” Jakes didn’t crack a smile as he said it.
“Okay, so she misstated her living situation. Why, we don’t know.”