The Detective's Apprentice

Chapter 1 “You better find someplace to stay, kid. They say this—” the man pointed to the snow that had begun dusting the loading dock next to Joe, “—is going to turn into a hell of a blizzard before it’s over.” Joe bristled when he called him ‘kid’. “I’m nineteen, so for sure I’m no kid,” he retorted, stretching to his full five-eight-and-three-quarter inches defiantly before hopping up to sit on the dock. “For sure,” the man chuckled, “you’ll be acting like one if you’re too stubborn to get your ass to one of the shelters, or the churches that are opening their doors to the homeless tonight.” “I’ll be fine,” Joe said, although he wasn’t sure that was true if the guy knew what he was talking about. He was already shivering because of the sharp drop in temperature—doing his best to hide it. “Why do you care, anyway? What are you, one of those goody-goody outreach people?” “Nope.” The man bent to peer under the loading dock and Joe knew he could probably see his backpack and sleeping bag in the dim light from the fixture a few feet down the alleyway. Then he jumped up to sit beside Joe. “Hiding under there’s not going to help keep you warm, you know.” As if to reinforce the guy’s words, the snow began to fall faster and a stiff breeze kicked up. Joe knew he was right, but…“By the time I get to a shelter it’ll be full up. Same with the churches. And like I said, what’s it to you, anyway?” The man shrugged. “Trying to do my civic duty?” He smiled wryly. Seconds later he slid off the dock, his gaze locked on a door that was opening across the alley. He took a small camera from his coat pocket before dropping to his knees beside the dock. For whatever reason, he wasn’t certain why, caution he supposed, and the way the man had hidden so that he wouldn’t be seen, Joe was on the ground and under the dock seconds before two men appeared through the doorway. “f**k. Snow?” one of the men muttered, shifting the boxes he was carrying to get a better grip on them. “Don’t b***h,” the other one said. “No one with a brain is out here in it so we’re home free.” He was carrying boxes, too. Joe had the distinct feeling they’d broken into the place—’Edward’s Electronics’ from the barely legible sign above the door—and were leaving with as much as they could haul away. Naw. They didn’t break in. If they had, alarms would have gone off. One of them probably works there and, yeah, decided to do a little after-hours shopping with his friend. He watched as one of the guys kicked the shop door shut and they hurried down the alley. It was snowing hard enough at that point that he couldn’t see if they had a car parked on the street at the end of the alley. If it was me, I would. The man who’d been talking to Joe stood, brushing snow off the shoulders of his coat and pocketing his camera. “You took their pictures, didn’t you?” Joe asked after he crawled out from under the dock, wrapping his worn jacket tighter around him. It was a logical question, he figured. “What are you, a detective or something?” “Yep. Private. Hired by Mr. Edwards to find out which of his employees had been helping themselves to some of his stock after he closed for the night.” He started to walk away, turned, and said, “Get inside, kid.” He held up a hand when Joe scowled. “Sorry. You got a name?” “Joe,” he replied after a moment’s hesitation. “Okay. I’m Derek, and I mean it, Joe. Find somewhere out of the storm. I don’t want to read about someone finding your frozen body after the snow melts.” “Maybe I will, if I can. You could always take me home with you,” Joe added, smirking. “Since you’re such a concerned citizen.” “Could and will are two different things,” Derek replied. “But…Get your stuff.” “Huh?” “Your pack and sleeping bag. Get it.” Wondering what Derek had in mind, Joe did as he’d asked. “Now what?” “You’ll see.” “Uh-uh. Tell me or get lost. I’m not stupid enough to go somewhere with a dude I don’t know. You might have designs on my hot body.” Derek looked him over and laughed. “I’d say, from the way you’re shivering, it’s a pretty damned cold one. Okay. I’ve got a house, with a garage. I’m willing to let you stay in the garage until the storm’s over.” He started walking, saying over his shoulder, “No strings attached.” A cold blast of snow-filled wind hit Joe at that moment, which made his decision a hell of a lot easier. He hurried to catch up, his pack slung over his shoulder, his ratty sleeping bag tucked under his arm. When they got to the street Derek said, “I’m parked over there,” pointing to a lot half a block away. Joe followed him, hoping he wasn’t making his biggest mistake yet in a life already filled with them.