Amateur Hour

Ted

As an individual who could buy off the rack, and expect a good fit, Ted was satisfied, with what he saw, in the mirror. The dark blue (not quite navy) suit worked well, with his complexion, and it wasn’t too tight, in the shoulders.

“It needs something,” Nina said, eyeing him, critically.

“A tie.”

“More than that. You want to say: I’m here, but I’m not with you, on this.”

“Do I?”

“Absolutely.”

“Maybe the black suit.”

“No. The blue is right. Wait, a minute.”

She hopped up, from the bed, and went to the closet, where she rummaged, for a bit. When she emerged, she had a square hat box, in her hands.

Ted grinned. “You can’t be serious,” he said, as she opened the box, and pulled out his black felt Stetson with the rattlesnake skin hat band. She handed it to him. “You hate this thing. I thought you got rid of it,” he said.

“It’s yours. I couldn’t just throw it out. Try it, and let’s see what we’ve got.”

Ted donned the hat. He looked the epitome of malicious compliance.

“Try not to look so pleased,” Nina suggested, with a little giggle, at Ted’s ear to ear smile. “Pull it a little lower, in the front, and look like you mean business.”

He tugged it down, about a half an inch, and ironed out his face.

“Perfect,” was Nina’s verdict. “That should put Gordon off balance. Show him what rattlesnakes are good for.”

“Where do women get these tactics? It’s like they have whole cabinets, in their minds, where head games are stored.”

“Don’t argue with blessings,” she advised.

“I won’t. It’s just my duty, as a man, to wonder. You’re right, though. With a suit, and it’s an intimidating hat. Should I even bother, with a tie?”

“Oh, yes. The more conservative, the better.”

“You know, I really like you, with opinions.”

“I’ve always had opinions, Teddy. I just never shared many of them.”

“That’s what I meant. I’m happy to defer to the opinion of my artist wife. And, to be allowed to wear my hat, again.”

In answer, Nina chucked a pillow at him. Ted laughed, and tossed it back, onto the bed.

“It still smells,” she said, nodding toward the hat, and wrinkling her nose, slightly.

“That’s pregnancy, talking.” Still, he removed the hat, and put it back into the box. “I’ll keep it, in my car, and put it on, when I get there. You won’t have to smell it, then.” To him, the snake skin had no odor, at all. He was fairly sure the scent was in Nina’s head, but he wasn’t going to quibble.

When he looked at her again, she was no longer smiling.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. I’m just worried, for you.”

“You could still go south, for a while, with Hannah and Sissy.”

“My place is here.”

“I’m glad you’re here, but I don’t want you to be fretting, the whole time. It isn’t good for you, or the Jellybean. Gordon won’t do a thing, to me. He doesn’t dare.”

“That’s not exactly what I’m worried about. You walked away from him, once. From all you could have had. You worked very hard, to live on your own terms. I’m afraid of what could happen to you, to change you, I guess.”

“I’m not Gordon, and you’re not Hannah. I don’t crave the same things he does, and I listen to you.”

“You haven’t been given much of a taste for those things.”

“Nina, I do not want power. I don’t want more money than I could ever use, either. I’ve seen how those things corrupt and destroy people.”

“I know you’re not a fool, but anyone can be seduced.”

“The only thing that can seduce me, is you,” he smiled. “Believe it.”

She had awakened the warning voice, in his head, nevertheless. Nina had seduced him, and some part of him had always known she could, if it had occurred to her to do so. He had held her at arm’s length, for that very reason. What if the same had been true of wealth and power? She was right — he would have to watch himself.

*******

Franklin

Lunch, on the third day, was exactly the same thing it had been, on the first, and the second — black beans and rice, with a slice of bread. Breakfast was always two eggs and a slice of toast. He knew it would be black beans and rice for dinner, as well, with a small, stringy piece of some sort of meat.

Franklin dug in and ate, voraciously. The plainness of the fare didn’t bother him, so much, but the sameness and the lack of animal protein, were another thing. The guys all craved more meat than they were getting, and the tent was starting to smell like one huge, lingering fart.

They had taken to leaving the window flaps open, during the day. This helped with the fart smell, but didn’t do a thing for the undertone of stale sweat, which seemed to permeate the canvas.

He sat, in the shade of the tent, now, with Dale, the guy who had had the wind knocked out of him, on the first day. Dale reminded him of Ramirez. He wasn’t Latino, and was almost as tall as Franklin, himself, but he had the same penchant for sarcasm. It was Dale, who had made the comment on the plane, about Delinquent Airlines. Not the kind of guy Franklin usually hung out with, but, Ramirez hadn’t been, either.

“What’s it like, up the road?” Dale asked now, before shoveling another bite of food.

“No grass,” Franklin replied. “I guess lawns aren’t a thing, in the desert. It’s all hard-packed dirt. The cabins are all the same. No outhouses.”

“Lucky bastards. Three days, and I’m already tired of listening for things that rattle, and checking for scorpions, every time I need to take a dump. What else?”

“Not much, except it looks like some of them have land line phones, and satellite TV. Probably no internet.”

“You see anyone?”

“Not a soul, except for the Noon Goons. They must all be out, doing their day jobs.”

The Noon Goons supervised the Outskirts Camps, at lunchtime. They had a different set of goons, at night. As near as Franklin could figure, Clark and Jasper must be at the bottom of the goon pile, as they were expected to be out all day, in the heat.

“What have they got you doing?”

“Painting. Not that the cabins need it; it’s just make-work.”

“Man, you see that pile of rocks, over there?” Dale pointed, at an empty spot, in the front part of the camp.

Franklin looked. “No.”

“That’s because today, I moved it. Tomorrow, I’ll move it, again. It’s all make-work, man. How did you get promoted to work in the Suburbs, anyway?”

“They found out I was an Honors student, at New Canaan.”

“No way!”

“I was,” Franklin shrugged. “Not the academic type, either.”

“I had you figured for a jock, but not an Honors jock. So, Jasper and Clark have you pegged, for one of their own, and put in a word, for you.”

“They might think so, but I’m not.”

“Too bad. I was hoping you might decide to kick Clark’s ass, one day.”

“I still might. Of course, if I won, then I would be one of them. I’m done with that shit. I never really liked it, kicking other kids around. I did it, to stay in that stupid school.”

“To stay in?” Dale was looking at him, as if he were crazy.

“I was bounced out of a lot of schools, for my grades. My parents want me to go to an Ivy League university. Family tradition, you know? Never mind that my three times great grandfather was an illiterate Irish peasant. He started the first family business. No, I have to go to a top-notch university. I thought New Canaan was the end of prep school line. Looks like I was wrong.” He took a sip of lukewarm water, from his canteen. “You know, I’d rip Clark’s head off, if I thought I’d get an ice-cold Coke, for it. I’d even do it, for a Pepsi.”

Dale laughed. “I’d do it, for fun, if I had a little more muscle. Maybe I will have, after I relocate the rock pile, a few more times.”

“Not worth it, if you lose. They’ll just send you to another Outskirts camp, with a bunch of other losers. Just keep doing what they tell you. You’ll be up the road, helping me sling the sixtieth coat of cheap paint on those cabins, in no time.”

*******

Guy

The moment they saw the house, Guy knew it was a winner. It was mostly brick, except for part of the upper story, and it was clear, from the glass door in the front, that part, if not all of the lower floor had previously been used for commercial space.

“I don’t know, vato,” Steph mused, from the seat, to his right. “This looks a little bit out of our price range.”

“From the outside, maybe. For all we know, the inside is trash, like the first place we looked at.”

“Where’s the Realtor?”

“It’s the landlord. The flyer was tacked to a bulletin board, in Sam’s. I borrowed it.”

“Of course, you did.” She rolled her eyes.

“If we don’t get the place, I’ll put it back,” he protested.

“You think that’s him?” Steph asked a a mud spattered pickup truck slowed behind them. It turned into the driveway.

“Must be. That’s a rough looking ride, for a doctor, though.”

He hopped out of the car, and, out of habit, went around, to open Steph’s door. She allowed him to help her out, without her usual objection. Guy made a mental note to tease her, later, about finally being trained.

The man who exited the truck wasn’t tall, but he was built like a bull.

“I’m sorry,” he said, gesturing at his grubby jeans and shirt. “I was called out to a calving emergency, before I could shower or change, from this morning. Best I could do, was wash my hands. Ernest Kuhn,” he offered a well-scrubbed hand to Guy.

“Miguel Ramirez, but I go by Guy. The lady is my partner, Stephanie Howard.”

“We’re business partners,” Steph clarified, in a tone that was firm, without sounding defensive.

“Ms. Howard, it’s a pleasure. I did take you two, for a couple, at first,” he remarked, addressing them, both. “Of course, I have to ask, what business you’re in — no offense.”

“We mean to open our own investigations firm. Guy and I are both licensed, in Georgia and in Florida. We’re still waiting for Alabama licenses, but we’ve applied.” As she spoke, Steph removed her wallet, from her bag, and opened it, to present her credentials. Guy followed suit.

Kuhn took his time with both sets, reading the expiration dates, and comparing their faces to their photos. He looked satisfied, when he handed them back. “Each state has to have their piece of that licensing revenue,” he commented. “I can’t say I’ve ever met a PI, before.”

“Maybe you have, and didn’t know it,” Guy suggested, with a grin.

Steph gave him a stern look, but Kuhn merely chuckled.

“I suppose that’s possible,” he allowed. “Want to have a look around?” He nodded toward the house.

“Yes, please. From the outside, it looks perfect,” Guy said. “What was here, before?” he asked, as they followed the landlord up the walk.

“My offices,” Kuhn sighed, a little. “I had a small animal practice here, for about five years. When I lost my partner, I had to shut it down. Now, I treat people’s livestock and pets, on site. My whole practice is mobile, these days. By the way, if you have pets, they’re welcome.”

“I have a cat,” Guy said.

“You do?” Steph queried.

“A ginger tabby. Still waiting for Amazon to deliver a second brain cell.”

Kuhn grunted a laugh. “Well, now, who buys his food, cleans his litter box, picks up anything he knocks over, and provides his health care, and his shelter? He probably sleeps with you, too,” he added. “Those are some pretty good benefits, for purring.”

“You got me, there, Doc,” Guy laughed.

“So, this was my reception and waiting area,” Kuhn said, when they were all inside the front room. “I can get this out of here, for you,” he patted the top of the tall registration desk. “No carpeting at all in the downstairs portion of the building. This flooring is vinyl, not real hardwood. Easy to maintain.”

“Looks nice, though,” Steph said. “With a few rugs, it would be fine. There’s no smell of animals,” she observed.

“No, we kept it very clean, but you might smell some antiseptic lingering, in the treatment rooms.”

There were four of those, all the same size, and all plumbed for sinks. Two of the former exam rooms still had the sinks and counters, in them. The water outlets of other two had been closed off, and the fixtures and counters were gone. The former clinic also boasted two public restrooms, and a large, empty room which was fitted out with a big sink, and counter top with cabinets.

This big room did have a distinct, lingering antiseptic smell.

“Let me guess,” Steph said, “your OR.”

“That’s right,” the vet nodded.

“It would make a good conference room.”

Guy snickered a little. “There’s room enough in either of the restrooms for the two of us, to confer.”

“How many people were in the last conference we attended?”

“Six, if you count me,” Guy admitted. “I was remote,” he clarified, for the vet. “Point taken,” he said, to his partner.

They trailed behind Kuhn, as he entered another room.

“This was the best part of the setup,” he said, as they followed him through the door, which was still marked ‘Authorized Personnel, Only’. “We used the kitchen as a break room. Everyone loved it.”

The table would seat ten, with elbow room, to spare.

“Is there another kitchen, upstairs?” Guy asked.

“Nope. But, that’s where the dumbwaiter comes in.” He walked over to what looked like a cabinet, set into the wall nearest the stairs, and opened the door. “One hundred-fifty pound capacity, electric. We didn’t even put six months of use on it, and it never failed us.”

“You lived here, then, upstairs?”

“Yes, ma’am. Four bedrooms, two and a half baths. More than enough space, for two people.”

“It would be three. I have a son.”

“Plenty of room, for three. How old is your son? Old enough to be safe, on stairs?”

“He’s ten.”

“He should be fine, then.” He slid a key into a door, labeled ‘Private, No Admittance’. “We generally kept the stairwell door locked, during business hours, despite the sign.”

Guy’s first impression was that he was stepping into a cave, until the stairs blazed into view with a flip of a wall switch.

“The back stairs, leading outside, are wider,” Kuhn explained. “You’ll probably want to take your beds up, that way. It’s partially furnished, but if you have your own, or don’t like what’s in there, already, I won’t take it personally. Gracie might have, but I won’t.”

The top of the stairs opened directly into the living area. The furniture was dated, in style, but looked comfortable, and in good shape. Beyond the living room was a screened in balcony, with four white wicker chairs and a low, glass topped table.

A dining area to the right, contained a table and four chairs, adjacent to what had to be the door to the dumbwaiter. There was no range, but there was a mini fridge and a microwave on a long counter top, with a few cabinets over and under it.

“It’s more convenient than running downstairs, every time you want to nuke a bag of popcorn. And the bedrooms and baths are off, this way.” He led them through the living room, and into a hallway.

By the time they had seen four bedrooms, two and a half bathrooms, and a laundry room, Steph was beginning to look a little overwhelmed.

“That’s about it, for the house,” Kuhn said, at last. “You folks want to sit down and take a little break, before we poke around, outside? I stocked some water, in that little fridge. It’s a bit warm, in here, but there’s a ceiling fan, on the balcony.” He nodded toward the sliding glass doors.

“Would you mind if we joined you, in a few minutes?” Guy asked.

“Oh, I’m going on downstairs. You two take your time. I’ll be on the front porch.” He opened the fridge, as he spoke, and pulled out three bottles of cold water. After passing them each one, he left, with his, and a cordial nod.

Guy followed Steph out, onto the balcony, and chuckled a little, when she collapsed into one of the chairs.

“It’s big enough,” he said, uncapping his bottle.

“It’s huge! I don’t think we need so much space.”

“We’ll need room for consultations with clients. We’re also going to need room for files, forms, books, and all kinds of equipment.”

“We don’t have those.”

“We will.”

“We might. Unless we fall on our faces.”

“Us? Not a chance, in hell. One day, this will be one of our little branch offices,” he joked.

“Huh. What’s he asking, for rent?”

“Two grand. It’s a lot, for this area, yeah. But, it’s mostly furnished, upstairs. And, how nice is this little porch?” He pulled the cord on the ceiling fan, and sank into a chair, himself, to enjoy the breeze.

“You’re in love, with it.”

“So are you. Admit it. Big yard, for Galen. Safe street, for him to ride his bike, scooter, skateboard — whatever he rides around on. Not far from the school.”

“You do realize that the ‘Gracie’ he mentioned, and lived with, was Dr. Kuhn’s partner, don’t you? Probably even his wife.” It was a sudden, non sequitur.

“Yeah… And? Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know. Nowhere, I guess.”

“Something about him putting you on edge?”

“No. He seems very nice. He couldn’t get out of this part of the place fast enough, though. Notice how he rushed through this part of the tour?”

“I’ll tell him we’re not interested.”

“I didn’t say that,” she scowled at him. “Besides, he might not be interested in us.”

“Nah. He likes us. He wouldn’t have gone off to let us talk about it, otherwise.” He studied her, for a moment. “Lookit, Steve, I know you think it’s your job, to be the careful partner. But, I think you may have cold feet.”

“Maybe.”

“What’s the real risk, here? It’s a rental. We don’t like it, we leave, when the lease is up. You don’t like sharing a house with me, we’ll work it out.”

“You’d be the lessee. I’d have to leave you, holding the bag, I might add. I don’t think so, vato.”

“I could always do what Julio did. Replace you, with Kayla.”

“Asshole!” she accused him, laughing. “It would serve you, right.”

“Yes, it would,” he agreed. “We talked about this,” he reminded her, sobering, a bit. “It’s a convenient living arrangement. If there are problems, we fix them, before they hurt the partnership.”

Steph drank some more of her water, and gazed out on the back yard. No one would ever mistake the mixture of grasses for a lawn, but it was neatly cut, and there were a couple of small trees. Finally, she set her bottle on the table and pulled her wallet out of her bag again, found a bank envelope, and handed it to Guy.

“This should cover my half of the first and last month’s rent. I’ll have to owe you, for security deposits.”

“I’ll cover those. He’ll want an extra deposit for Mango, anyway.”

“Mango?”

“The cat. My sister said he was a sweet little mango, when she first saw him, and it stuck. You like cats?”

“Probably about as much as you like kids. At least, cats are quiet.”

“But, I do like kids. I have nephews, and nieces, too,” he reminded her, baffled by her assumption that he didn’t. Just more cold feet, he guessed. She’d see, in time.

***

In addition to the generous back yard, with its small trees, there was another porch, at the rear of the house.

“Our smoking section,” Kuhn remarked, with a rueful smile.

“And, the little building, in the corner of the yard?” Guy asked.

“We used it, for storage. It’s empty, now. It’s wired, for electricity, but not plumbed. You could use it for storage, or even a little workshop, or shed. Did you restore that Mustang, yourself?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good place for your tools, then. It’s not a garage, but you could put a little canopy in front of it, and have some shade to work under, if you get another car you want to work on,” he suggested.

“I haven’t seen many kids, since we got here,” Steph observed.

“Oh, there are kids, believe me. It’s a pretty tight little neighborhood. The parents take turns, ferrying them all off to the public pool, in Dothan, among other things. You’ll see more of them, after six, when they close that down. Your boy will make friends, in no time.”

“You talk like it’s a done deal,” Guy smiled.

“Isn’t it? Oh, I’ll have to do the usual background check, but if you’re holding several state licenses, I doubt that will be any problem. I don’t know much about private investigators, but I do know they’re vetted pretty well. You seem to like the place.”

“We do. Steph’s the cautious partner. I think it’ll do, very well, for the business, but I can’t blame her, for having that Mom thing going on.”

“I can’t, either. The background check only takes a few hours, usually. You’ll probably want to run one, on me, as well, which is fine. If there aren’t any snags or flags, you can move in, in a few days. I’ll take a refundable deposit, and give you a receipt, if you’d like to get started, on it.”

Guy eyed his partner. “Steph?”

“Let’s do it,” she said.

“Great. I’ll get some papers out of my truck, and we’ll sit down. When we’re done, feel free to hang out, for a while, and watch the neighborhood, when the kids come rolling in, for the evening.”