Amateur Hour

Steph

It was nine a.m., when a sleepy, irritable, and slightly disoriented Steph shuffled down the hall, in search of coffee. The pot was not only empty, it was cold, clean, and dry. It didn’t improve her mood that there wasn’t a soul around, either.

“Well, shit,” she muttered, returning to her room to dress, for the day. She’d just have to make coffee, downstairs. Heaven help anyone who got in her face, before she had the chance to drink at least a cup and a half.

She found everyone in the kitchen, which smelled of all things breakfast, but her attention was grabbed, not by the food on the table, but the absence of her various papers and pens.

“Where the hell is my stuff?” she demanded.

“Warned you,” Guy said, to Kayla, with a smirk.

“Good morning to you, too, Steph,” Kayla addressed her, with a too-sunny smile. I put your work on your desk.”

“If I had wanted it, on my desk, I would have put it there, myself.”

Galen paused, with a slice of toast, halfway to his mouth, to frown. Steph felt like a heel, seeing it, and that feeling annoyed her, even more.

“Someone needs coffee, stat —” Guy smoothed it over, or tried to, and filled a cup, for her.

“I’ll take it, to go,” Steph replied, with a pointed look at Kayla, who was occupying Steph’s usual chair. “Not hungry, yet.”

“Steve —”

“I need to get busy,” Steph returned, over her shoulder.

It was all she could do, not to slam her office door. She didn’t know why she was so upset. Yes, she did. She was upset because Kayla seemed to have moved in, and taken over. It was irrational. Yet, would it have killed someone, to have at least awakened her, for breakfast?

Minus the extra copies, everything had been neatly arranged, on her new desk, exactly as it had been laid out, on the table, when she’d gone to bed. Even the pens were in the same place, relative to her right hand. Kayla was observant.

Steph settled into her chair, and sipped her coffee. Her stomach growled, but she ignored it, except to note that she should have ripped off a slice of toast, to go, as well. She had to admit, it would also have made her exit look less petulant.

Sighing, she picked up the copy of notebook Number One, and began to re-read the first page.

“November 3: Hate this place, already, DJ. The teachers are despicable, the dorm supervisor is a bitch, and the food must come from the prison system, in hell. Acres and acres of campus, but we’re not even allowed to go outside. I’d kill someone, for a cigarette. I’d kill Dr. Starkey, for no reason, at all.

They confiscated my makeup, and my cologne. I’m a fucking hag, in this baggy sweater and skirt (looks like sofa upholstery). The only blessing, is that they let me keep my lip balm and lotion.

Thank God, you thought of hiding your ring, there. I turned my room upside down, looking for the ring, before I left. I couldn’t believe it, when I rubbed my finger into that tin of lip balm, and found it. I should have known it wasn’t just a stupid parting gift! You’re brilliant, DJ. And, now, I have something of you, to keep with me. What would I have done, without that hour’s worth of warning, and time to pack my stuff?”

Steph paused in her reading, to drink some more of her coffee, and to reflect, yet again, that Jess’s boyfriend was brilliant. That, or he had firsthand experience of similar security setups, himself. The x-ray machine wouldn’t have detected a ring secreted in a metal tin.

“Pretty smart,” she muttered, to herself. She resumed her reading.

“I was so mad, when you left the house, and so awful to you, when you came back, with your present. I felt deserted, by you. I wanted to slap you, for being so uncaring. I should have known better. You never have let me down.”

“They always let you down, eventually, girl.” Steph shook her head, and reached for her bottle of antacids. She was still chewing them, when two short raps sounded, on her door.

“Busy!” she called out, as well as she could.

The door opened, anyway. It was Guy, of course, armed with two cups of coffee, and a plate with two slices of toast.

“Brought you a refill,” he said. “And, some toast. Mountain… Mohamed… You know the saying.”

“Thanks. Where’s Kayla?”

“Loading the dishwasher. Say, how come you never use that thing?”

“Because I wash pots and pans, as I go along. Any more critique?”

“It’s not critique. Just curiosity.” He settled into the chair, on the other side of the desk, and had a sip from his own cup. “Look, I told her not to touch your shit. I would have reamed her for it, but Galen was there, and I didn’t want to ruin the boy’s breakfast.”

“All right,” she replied, slightly mollified.

“For what it’s worth, I made that toast, myself. Kayla doesn’t make it as brown as we like it.”

“Yet, you were eating it,” Steph pointed out, with a hint of a smile.

“To be polite. You told me to be polite.”

This did make her grin, and she reached for the top slice.

“No, thanks.” He waved off her offer of the other piece. “I’m full. To give the spawn of Satan her due, she does cook a pretty good egg.”

“Traitor,” she accused, around a mouthful.

“Opportunist,” he corrected. “If she can do anything well, at all, we might as well take advantage, of it.”

“You have a point.”

“Thought you’d think so, since it’s your point. It’s an adjustment, like any time you throw a new person into a mix.”

“I don’t know about that, so much. You and Galen are as thick as thieves, already.”

“Because he’s yours, and because he’s a great kid, besides. Kayla has to find her niche, and it’s only the first day. I guarantee you, you won’t find her in your chair, at the table, anymore.”

“It shouldn’t matter. But, it did.”

“Totally my fault. I should have said something firm, but tactful.”

“Tactful, would probably have done it.”

“No, she’s willful. I told her not to move your things, but she insisted. I suspect she’s trying to play us off, against each other, to make a space, for herself. Oh, yeah —” he addressed her look of surprise. “I’m from a big family, and I wasn’t born, yesterday. I know how all that sibling rivalry stuff works. It’s down and dirty, even when you love everyone involved.”

“Have to take your word for it, I guess.” Still, his words made her feel better. “I’m sorry I’m in such a foul mood.”

“You didn’t get a lot of sleep.”

“I might have been better off, just staying awake. I didn’t get much sleep, even after I went to bed. This,” she tapped the document beside her left hand, “is some hard reading, for me. It resonates, you know? It’ll probably hit you differently.”

“I read some of it, this morning. It probably does hit different, for me, but not so much, that I can’t feel for the poor girl. She had a bad case of puppy love.”

“That’s all you got out of it?”

“Give me a break, Steve. I’m not halfway through the first journal, yet. You think we should send Miss Thing out, to have another copy made, for herself?”

“Might as well. It would give her something to do, and there’s no reason she shouldn’t read it. Maybe her perspective would be useful.” Steph had her doubts, about this, but it seemed like the thing, to say.

**************

Kayla

The morning had been mostly success, as far as Kayla was concerned. She had risen, before dawn, and was doing her morning yoga, even as Guy was nagging Steph to bed. She’d heard them both retire, or, seem to do so. Steph had reemerged, about five minutes later, to slip outside, for a smoke.

The woman did not take care of herself, and hadn’t the sense, evidently, to realize that no one else would. Kayla had stolen out, in her turn, to familiarize herself with the office, and the downstairs environs. There had been disappointingly little to see, as yet — hardly anything beyond what she had been freely shown by Steph, on her guided tour. The filing cabinets had contained few files. All of it, junk from New Canaan.

Guy’s office had contained a few decorative odds and ends — a shadowbox of old Hotwheels cars (almost certainly collectibles); a three corner-folded flag, in a case; various trophies, dating back to his high school days, which was as sad as it was comical. The office already reeked of testosterone and Dior Sauvage cologne. Did Steph really like her men to smell like gigolos, she’d wondered. She had been unable to crack Guy’s computer password. Who would have guessed he had more than two brain cells?

Steph’s, on the other hand, had been entirely too easy — her son’s birth date. She had hoped Steph, at least, would turn out to have some imagination. But, no. Like her office, and her password, Steph’s computer had uninteresting. Her sole decor consisted of family photos, which were very Galen-centric. She needed some potted plants, or something, at least.

After her prowl of the offices, Kayla had proceeded to assess the contents of the refrigerator and cabinets, in the kitchen. She would make ham omelets for breakfast, she’d decided. The only chives available, were dried, but she’d make them do. At least, the eggs were fresh, and cage free, and the butter was real. She’d found frozen juice concentrate, in the freezer. It would serve, until she could get to the store, for fresh juice.

Kayla had dished up a glorious breakfast — for three, as it turned out. Steph had been displeased, to find her precious papers had been relocated. Why would she have her nose out of joint, over that? She’d told Kayla, yesterday, that they kept work out of the living spaces. Why, then, would work on the dining table be acceptable?

Fresh orange juice was on her personal list, now, along with a few other items, and, of course, the copying job she’d just dropped off, at the office supply store. Maybe she’d look for a plant, for Steph’s office. Something hard to kill.

*******

Guy

“What are you going to do with it?” Steph asked Ted, referring to the small silver ring, he had shown them, over the Zoom connection.

“Hand it over to the Sheriff, I guess. It’s evidence.”

“I wish I could take a closer look at it.”

“Nina made detailed drawings of it, from every angle, and I have photos. I’ll send you copies, of everything.”

“How detailed?” Steph pressed.

“Detailed enough to show a tiny chip, in the stone. I doubt you can see it, through my webcam. You seem anxious, today Stephanie.”

“She didn’t get enough sleep,” Guy answered, before she could. “She’s all over the journals.”

“I don’t have much to tell you, that you can’t read, yourself,” Steph admitted. “I haven’t had time to… start putting things together. Still making notes.”

“You only got them, yesterday. I don’t expect instant analysis — I’d rather have good analysis. How are you two doing, otherwise? Anything you need?”

“Toner, for the printers, maybe,” Guy smirked, then yelped, when Steph elbowed him, in the ribs.

“I can send more toner. How are you fixed for other things, that cost money — like, groceries?”

Guy exchanged a look with Steph, to verify they were still on the same page. “We’re good,” he replied. He could see her nod in agreement, in his peripheral vision. “The business license should come, any day, now — same as the state licenses.”

This was a stretch. The licenses were still at least a week out, but they were economizing on groceries. He and Steph had discussed it, and agreed that they could probably manage.

“That soon?” Ted looked skeptical.

“It doesn’t hurt, that we already have licenses in two other states. More of a formality, than anything.”

This was a lie. Their status as investigators neither hurt, nor helped them, in the state of Alabama. As long as Steph continued to nod, however, he could sell it. She, at least, had an honest face.

“One thing I would like,” Guy said, changing the subject, “is a list of the other schools, owned by Ridgeview. I’m still worried about Franklin Riley.”

“Of course. What about Hermes? I can’t lay my hands on anything, right this minute, but…”

“I start there, Monday. Steph was able to set me up with just enough fake ID, to get a job as a night janitor.”

“You know, I could send you in there, as an auditor,” Ted proposed.

“You should send an auditor. They’ll be expecting that, from a new owner. I think I know just the person, for the auditing job.”

“That’s just flirting with disaster!” Steph objected, laughing.

“She won’t get anything useful, but, what can she hurt?”

“Who are we talking about?” Ted asked.

“We’ve taken on an associate,” Steph explained. “She’s very green. If you want a real audit, Ted, you should hire a real auditor. If you want an actress, to play the part, she’s not your girl.”

“Damn, Steph. You’re going scorched earth,” Guy observed.

“I’m smarter than Julio. She’s not ready.”

“This is one of Serrano’s people?” Ted didn’t look pleased.

“She wasn’t with him, that long — not nearly as long as I was, or Steph, for that matter.”

“Can we discuss this, privately?” Steph asked, giving him a severe look, and with a subtle emphasis on the last word.

“Sure,” Guy said. “It was just a suggestion.”

***

“I shouldn’t have argued, in front of a client,” Guy said, the instant the call was over. “I know.”

“To be fair, I did start it,” Steph reciprocated. “Sorry, vato.”

“It’s okay. Let’s forgive each other, for that, and move on to why you’ve changed your mind about Kayla. Seems to me, like giving her a small acting gig is just the thing to make her useful, while keeping her out of the way.”

“She’s not ready to solo. Julio was a fool, to send her into New Canaan alone.”

“He thought I’d stay with her, and mentor.”

“It wasn’t an ideal setting, for that, with the limited communication. Did I ever tell you, he tried to pair me with her, about a year ago?”

“Which one of you pulled the plug — you, or Kayla?”

“I did. Remember the used car scam case?”

Guy nodded. It hadn’t amounted to much, and he and Steph had closed it in twelve days.

“Julio gave me the choice, to continue to mentor Kayla, or to work with you, again.”

“I’m flattered.” He was. Of all the mentees he’d had, Steph had been his favorite. It was nice to know that the regard had been mutual, even so far back.

“You should be. It cost me a small raise,” Steph smiled.

“So, you dumped her, and now you’re trying to make up, for it?”

She cringed, visibly, at the way he’d phrased the question, but she nodded.

“I should have told you. I think I was ashamed to admit it.”

Of course, she had been, he thought. Shame had always been Julio’s method of controlling Steph, just as doubt had been his means of manipulating Guy.

“For what it’s worth, Julio pushed you, too fast, on the mentoring issue. You had just gotten your feet under you.”

“I’d love to put it off, on him, but I can’t. Kayla’s willful, as you said. Didn’t take direction, well. Still, I could have done better; tried harder.” She paused. “It was the first time you’d specifically asked for me, and it appealed to my ego. You and I… we click. We work. The higher the the stakes, the better we are.”

“I know.” He smiled a little.

They were both quiet, for a moment.

“I could go in, with her, I suppose, to Hermes. It would only take a day, or two.”

“You have stuff to do, already. Let Ted get real auditors.”

“I can’t complain about the problem, if I won’t be part of the solution. It’s just an acting job, after all. If Ted calls a surprise compliance audit for Wednesday afternoon, it’ll give them an hour or two, to hide things, in bad places. Maybe you can find some of them, Wednesday night — kind of a little bonus.”

“I like it. Maybe I’ll fake some kind of minor injury, that would be expected to slow me down, a little, while I’m emptying wastebaskets, and vacuuming.”

“You’re such a ham,” she grinned.

“All the world’s a stage.”

“I wish I had my car,” Steph mused. “It would strike just the right note, pulling into the parking lot.”

She wasn’t wrong. His Mustang had too much personality, and Kayla drove a red Nissan Z — hardly a corporate auditor’s car. Steph’s silver Prius said all the right things — energy efficient, understated, yet modern.

“Let’s go and get it, then. I can drive you and Galen up. I know you have other business to do, in town, and Ruth would love to see the boy. You could stay with her, overnight, and drive back, the next day.”

“Mom has a sofa bed. That’s a long for way for you to drive, round trip.”

“Six hours, give or take. Not too far.” He didn’t love the idea of leaving Kayla alone, just yet, with full run of the house.

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. If we leave tomorrow morning, I’d be home, long before dark.”

“All right.”

***

Steph

Galen was a little less than thrilled with the proposal, when the four of them discussed it, over lunch.

“Gerri’s mom invited me to go with her, and a bunch of the other kids, to the pool, tomorrow,” he explained. “I was going to ask, at lunch, if I could go.”

“I don’t know Gerri’s mom, Honey.”

“She said she’d be happy to meet you, or that you could call her, this afternoon, or this evening.”

“Is she the one who always drives the kids to do things?”

Galen swallowed a sip of milk, shaking his head. “They take turns, the parents with minivans and big cars. Other parents kick in, for gas. I wouldn’t mind seeing Nana, but she just left, ten days ago. Kayla wouldn’t even have to watch me,” he pointed out.

“That wouldn’t be a problem,” Kayla said. “I’m a legendary kid-sitter.”

Steph was torn. It was important that Galen establish himself, here, and she was sure her Mom would see it, that way, too. At the same time, she’d never left Galen with Kayla, or near-strangers.

“What does Gerri’s mom do, that she’s got all this time off, during the summer?” Guy asked this, with wink in Galen’s direction. Clearly, he already knew.

“Teaches sixth grade,” he answered, casually. “At the school I’ll be going to, next fall,” he added.

“Okay,” Steph had to chuckle. “I’ll give her a call, if you have the number. I don’t have to tell you, to be on your best behavior, right?”

“Like I’m going to irritate a middle school teacher, before I ever walk through the door. Give me some credit, Mom. Besides, I wouldn’t embarrass Gerri. She’s pretty legit, when you get to know her.”

***

Gerri’s mother was a six-foot, amazonian woman, with long, lustrous blonde hair, and piercing blue eyes. Evidently, she was accustomed to drawing looks of shock, because she laughed at Steph’s, and ushered her through the living room, and straight into the kitchen.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she opened, inviting Steph to sit, with a wave. “Yes, the little dark haired girl really is mine.”

“I didn’t mean to be rude, Mrs. McKay. Please, pardon me.”

“If you’ll call me, Trudy.”

“Steph,” she reciprocated, happy enough not to have to explain her aversion to being called “Mrs. Howard”.

“How do you take your tea, Steph?”

“Black, with sugar, is fine.”

“Right.” Trudy grasped the china teapot with surprising delicacy, and poured out two cups. “Gerri’s very excited to have Galen come along with us, tomorrow — if you agree, to it. He’s such a nice boy, for a ten year-old.”

“You must see a lot of ten year-olds. Galen says you’re a teacher.”

“For nearly fifteen years, now,” Trudy nodded. “I’ve taught middle grades, for about seven of those. I met your significant other, last week, when he was hanging cameras. I understand you’re private investigators?”

“Guy is my business partner.” Steph’s response was level, and matter-of-fact.

“Oh, now, I beg your pardon. Galen talks about him, as if he’s a member of the family,” she shrugged. “But, what an exciting line of work, that must be.”

It was hard to take offense, at her bluff manner. Her curiosity was natural, and once satisfied, she wasn’t judgmental.

“You’d be surprised by some of the tedium,” Steph smiled. “Watching cheating spouses creep into and out of motel rooms; digging through public records; tracking bail jumpers, by the receipts they leave behind… Bad coffee, stale donuts, depressing motel rooms. And, I’m crazy enough, to enjoy it.”

“Guess it’s all in who you share it with,” Trudy smiled, archly.

Steph blushed.

“So,” Steph changed the subject. “How many kids are going, tomorrow?”

“Ten, maybe twelve. We caravan with a couple of vehicles. The more, the merrier. You and Guy are welcome to come along, if you want.”

“We’re going to be out of town, tomorrow. He’s coming home, but I’m staying over, to do some personal business, in Atlanta. We have another associate, who can watch Galen, until Guy gets home.”

“Or, Guy could pick him up, here, if you prefer. Galen’s no trouble.”

“Actually, I would prefer that,” she admitted. “I’m not so sure about Kayla’s suitability as a babysitter, yet. She hasn’t been with us long. But, I hate to impose.”

“No imposition. You know, Gerri doesn’t make friends, easily. She gets on better with adults, than with kids, her own age, as a rule. She’s different, and kids aren’t always kind. Galen has a good heart, and I’m happy to look after him, until Guy comes, for him.”

“Trudy, you’re wonderful.”

“I’m a Mom,” she waved the compliment off. “I’ve heard Galen talk about Guy, in almost glowing terms. I’m satisfied he’ll be okay with him. We’ll be leaving here, about nine, tomorrow. You can drop Galen off, any time, after seven.”

“I don’t deserve a neighbor, like you.”

“It’s nothing. We’ll be up and around. Oh, fair warning — lunch is usually a picnic, somewhere.”

“I’ll pack him a lunch. Anything else?”

“Just the usual. Towel, trunks, change of clothes.”

By the time the visit was over, Steph came away with a solid impression that, like Gerri, Trudy was ‘pretty legit.’