The Detective's Apprentice

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

When Joe awoke Wednesday morning it took him a moment to remember where he was…and why—and that Sherwat wasn’t there. Derek probably came to get him, to let him out. Reluctantly, he left the warmth of the bed to look out the window.

“f**k and double f**k,” he said under his breath when he saw it was still snowing. “How the hell did I end up in Alaska?” He knew he hadn’t, but looking at the snow—piled halfway up the basement window of the house next door—sure make it feel as if that’s where he was.

Turning, he eyed the bed, contemplating crawling back under the covers and staying there until spring. Not an option and he knew it.

I should be damned glad I’m somewhere safe. If I hadn’t met Derek…

That’s when he saw his clothes neatly folded on the dresser. He’d forgotten all about them before going to bed the previous evening. Another thing he owed Derek for. Picking up the least worn pair of jeans, a halfway-decent sweatshirt, underwear, and socks, he went into the bathroom. After taking care of the most pressing business, he washed his hands, brushed his teeth, and got dressed—leaving the borrowed sweats hanging on a hook on the door.

There were two doors in the bathroom, the one to the bedroom and another opposite it. He carefully inched open the second one to see what was behind it—which turned out to be an office. He saw part of a desk and bookshelves. Easing it open a bit more, he saw Derek, who seemed to be working on a computer.

“You can come in,” Derek said, swiveling his chair to look at Joe.

He did, although he didn’t go to where Derek was seated. Instead he walked to the bookshelves to see what they held.

“Are you a reader?” Derek asked.

Joe lifted a shoulder. “When I can get my hands on a book that looks interesting. Usually out of a trash bin behind someone’s house.”

“Feel free to take any of those you want. They’ll keep you busy which might be a good idea right now. If you haven’t looked outside, I can tell you it’s going to be a while before either of us leaves the house.”

“I did, so I figured as much.” Joe ran his finger over the spines of the books, not really seeing the titles because he was covertly watching Derek, who had gone back to what he’d been doing. “Are you working?” he asked when he saw that Derek was filling out some sort of form.

“I am. Doing a report for Mr. Edwards on the guys I photographed last night. Normally, I’d wait until I got to my office but as I said, that’s not happening today.”

“He won’t be open to do anything about it,” Joe said, moving closer.

“Not unless he’s crazy,” Derek replied with a brief smile. “Still, the sooner he gets it, the sooner I get paid for the job since I’m sending my bill, too.” He chuckled. “I wonder if I can charge him extra for braving the weather.”

“You’d do that?”

“Nope. I may be small time, but I’m scrupulously honest.”

“How long have you been a detective?” Joe asked, daring to come close enough to rest a hip on the corner of the desk.

“I graduated college when I was twenty-one, interned with a big agency for a year, and then went off on my own, thinking I knew everything there was to know about being a private investigator. It’s taken four years to get where I am now, since I found out very quickly that I still had a lot to learn. I’m finally beginning to make enough to keep my head above water.”

“But…” Joe frowned.

“But?”

“You have a house so you must be doing okay.”

“It was my parents’. They decided to move somewhere where it didn’t snow four months out of the year, but they didn’t want to hand it over to some stranger, so they passed it on to me. I pay them a small amount each month in rent. A hell of a lot less than they could have made if they rented it out to someone else or sold it outright.”

“You got lucky.”

“Yeah, I did.”

Derek returned his attention to what he was doing and a few minutes later he put everything into an email to Mr. Edwards, hit ‘Send’, and got offline. “You hungry?”

Joe didn’t want to admit he was starving, so he only nodded.

“Good. Me, too. Let’s see what I’ve got for breakfast.” A couple of minutes later, he said, “There’s eggs, sausage—” he checked the cupboard, “—pancake mix, and two kinds of dry cereal. Take your pick.”

Joe didn’t want to take advantage of Derek, since from what he’d said he wasn’t exactly rolling in money, so he told him that cereal would be fine.

“Okay, if that’s what you want,” Derek replied. “Personally, I’m going for sausage and pancakes topped with a fried egg.”

Joe wrinkled his nose. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Haven’t you ever had them that way? You don’t know what you’re missing so you’re going to find out, like it or not. By the time you finish your cereal they’ll be ready.”

“Maybe I’ll pass on the cereal?”

“Smart move. I don’t remember when I bought them, but they’ve been up there for a while.”

“So you were going to pawn them off on me?” Joe grinned briefly so that Derek would know he was joking.

“It was you or Sherwat, and he hates cereal. Speaking of which…” He opened the door to the garage, which let a cold draft, and a damp dog, into the kitchen. “I made him a dog-door between the garage and the back yard. Believe it or not, he loves the snow.”

“He’s crazy,” Joe said.

“Tell him that. Here.” Derek handed him a towel that had been hanging on a hook beside the door. “Dry him off, if you would, while I get the pancakes and sausage going.”

Joe did, getting a couple of licks in the process. He hung the towel up when he finished, then asked Derek if he could help with anything.

“Sure, set the table. Silverware’s in there, plates up there,” Derek replied, pointing out where he meant.

Ten minutes later, they were sitting down to eat, after Derek filled Sherwat’s bowls so he wouldn’t bother them by begging. “Or that’s the theory,” he told Joe, chuckling. “Sometimes it even works.”

“You were right,” Joe said after wiping out his pancakes and egg. He smiled ruefully. “Of course there’s not much I won’t eat, even if it comes out of a dumpster behind a restaurant, but these were really good.”

“Thanks. I can make more if you’re still hungry.” Derek eyed the dog, who was leaning against Joe’s leg. “By the way, the two of you didn’t fool me for a second.”

“Huh?” Joe said, trying to look innocent.

Derek laughed. “Did you eat any of the sausage?”

“Maybe?” Joe patted Sherwat’s head. “He gave me those puppy eyes, so how could I resist?”

“Do you want another helping?”

“No, thanks. Honest, I’m good.”

They cleared the table, at which point Joe insisted that he would do the dishes. Derek didn’t protest, telling him he’d be in his office.

Sherwat settled on the kitchen floor, watching Joe as he worked.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” Joe said, talking to himself. “I could get used to it if I’m not careful. And to you,” he added when Sherwat woofed softly. Drying his hands, he sat down beside the dog and stroked his back.

“I don’t even know anything about him. The last time I trusted someone look what happened. I lost my family; I went through hell until I managed to escape. Since then…” He shook his head. “At least I’m trying to get it together, a much as I can. It’s not easy. Not with so many guys like me living the way I do. I wish there was a pound for the homeless where we could be adopted, the way you were.”

When Sherwat looked up at him as if commiserating, Joe chuckled. “I can see it now. Rows of cages filled with kids from ten to twenty, all standing there saying ‘Choose me, choose me’ as people walk by. Not that anyone would. Go looking for street kid to take home, that is. We’re disposable, like paper cups. Toss us away and move on.”

He rested his head on Sherwat’s, sighing deeply. Then he pulled himself together and got up. “Time to find something to do, instead of crying on your shoulder. I should be happy Derek did let me come home with him. There’s lots of homeless out there who probably didn’t even get lucky enough to find a spot in a shelter or a church last night. That could have been me.”

Sherwat was on his feet by then. He dashed out of the kitchen, looking back at Joe as if to say, ‘Follow me’. Joe did and found the dog standing in the dining room with a ball in his mouth. “You want to play?” Joe asked when Sherwat dropped the ball at his feet. He picked it up, tossed it into the living room. From there, a rousing game of fetch ensued that ended when Joe, laughing hard, called it quits because the ball was so slobbery he didn’t want to touch it again.