Chapter 9: More Than You Know
570 Words
Chapter 9: More Than You Know
While studying the notes in front of me I listened to a vehicle crunch over gravel outside, an engine die, and then a car door slam. My mind was clustered with facts and events pertaining to the Strong boy’s murder, glad to have a break from the task at hand. Feeling curious, as if I were a cat investigating strange noises in the night, I walked out of the study, entered the foyer, and just about jumped out of my skin as four quick taps came to life on the front door.
It was Tal Linear, I sensed, reading into my intuition. I believed women had a better sense of emotions and forecasting events before they happened, or were in the process of happening, using their skill of intuition with impeccable aptitude. I wasn’t a woman, though. Not by a long shot, and couldn’t say that I had a knack for intuition or telling future events.
Tal called through the glass storm door, “Joe, I know you’re in there. I can see the outline of your body.”
The air conditioner inside the ranch was on full blast, which was why both the screen and storm doors were closed. I opened the pair, brushed a hand across the tip of my nose out of nervousness, and asked, “What are you doing here, Tal?”
“I have an answer for you regarding the murder case of Evan Sting.”
It was music to my ears and I stepped aside, allowing him inside. I would have offered him an evening’s nightcap, but alcohol wasn’t available for such entertaining since I was an alcoholic. Instead, as he became comfy inside the adjoining sitting room, allowing his bulbous bottom to become cozy on one of the imported leather sofas, I offered him a water with ice, which he didn’t accept.
I sat across from him, continued to rub the tip of my nose, and asked, “What have you decided?”
“To help you, of course.”
“And why do you want to do that?”
“Because it would be a pleasure to work with you.”
“How do you know I’m not a raving lunatic bastard.”
He smiled, which brought out the intoxicating twinkle of his eyes and melted me a touch. “I just know, Joe. You have a reputation in this town as being a nice guy, which I think you are. I want to prove that you are. Maybe mixing friendship with business will work out between us.”
“Why do you have to prove that to yourself?”
He was silent, searching for a reply within the folds of his mind. He stared at me, the mahogany coffee table that separated us, and then back at me. He licked his upper lip and said in a confident tone, “Sometimes a guy has to do what a guy thinks he must do.”
“And helping me on this case is something you have to do?”
He nodded.
“I can deal with that,” I said. “I’m glad you came to this conclusion.”
What he wasn’t saying was quite elementary. The guy found me interesting and seemed to like my company more than he wanted to admit to. Not that I blamed him, though. Not to sound conceded or arrogant, but there wasn’t anything dull about me. Not an ounce. Not a pinch. Nothing like that.
“When will we start this case, my friend?” he asked.
“Tomorrow. We’ll get a good night’s sleep and review my notes first thing in the morning. Does that work for you?”
“More than you know,” he said, and winked at me.
“Until tomorrow then, Tal,” I said, stood, and prompted him to leave in the most polite and debonair style.
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