men while you still have decent recall,” Violet said as she pulled into a parking place at one of our favorite restaurants.
“Why are we here? Surely you’re not thinking of taking time to eat?” My stomach churned in protest. Hungry as I was, the very thought of food made me nauseated.
“The brain needs nourishment to function. We don’t eat, we might overlook something that will save Mitch’s life. I’m not willing to take that chance, are you?”
When she put it that way…
We settled in, got a couple Diet Cokes. Coffee would have gone better with our breakfast, but I needed something to chug, to ease the faint edge of fear clinging to my throat. Guess Violet felt the same. It took her no time to drain her glass, pull a pad and pen from her handbag, and focus a not-so-patient stare in my direction. There’d be no getting out of this one. Not that I wanted out, but she could have given me a minute to prepare before going all PI on me.
“Okay, here goes.” I pulled the clip out of my hair, weaving my fingers through the mop of curls, and cradled my head, eyes closed. “The first guy was tall, maybe an inch taller than Mitch, with a shaved head. I only saw the back of him, but he looked overly muscled. Made me think steroids. He wore jeans and a black, nondescript t-shirt. He’s the one who hit Mitch, kicked him.”
The image left my mouth dry, and I sucked down a couple sips of soda. “The second man was average height with short, curly brown hair, a little pudgy. He was standing at the door, and I got the impression he was picking the lock.”
“Why do you think that?”
I took me a minute to bring the image back into focus. “He fumbled, dropped something. It’s not clear what. But after he picked it up and bent over the handle, the door opened.”
“Okay. Go on.”
Our server came up behind Violet with our breakfast, so instead of talking, I pushed my glass out of the way. The scent of grilled sausage and pancakes had my mouth watering, and a few more growls escaped from my belly. I forked in a bite, savoring the flavor of warm maple syrup. Violet had a point. I could feel my brain kicking into gear.
“Keep talking.”
I chased the bite with a swallow of soda. “The other one looked like a misfit, like someone picked him up out of a dumpster, messy, dirty blond hair, short. I couldn’t tell much about his clothes other than they were wrinkled and didn’t fit well, almost falling off his scrawny frame. I didn’t see any faces because they all had their backs to me.”
“So, we’ve got Shaved Head, Pudgy Pick-lock and Messy. That’s what you’re giving me to work with?”
“Um-hmmm. That about sums then up.” I waited until I had her attention.
“Look, can we keep this between us? I know Jayne’s your client and has a right to know, but I’m beyond uncomfortable about this. , and since I didn’t see any faces, I couldn’t positively identify anyone. Honestly I don’t see that it will help the police if we tell them. Nothing is reportable as evidence. There has to be another way to do this, and I’m thinking we need to go back. There are images there, and I need to access them. See if I can get a face-shot.”
She made a face and looked away. A bad sign. After a minute, she blew out a sigh. “Okay. I don’t have to mention it right away. Let’s see what the cops find and see how it goes. We can’t go back until the scene is clear of law enforcement. And we need Jayne’s permission.”
“Call her.” Blood pounded through my veins, pushing me to act. “Get permission so we can move on this as soon as everyone leaves. Please.” I dug into my pancakes. “And considering I’m exhausted and running on pure nerves, it would be good to meditate for a bit, lower my blood pressure so I can think clearly. Mitch needs both of us to be fully functioning.”
Meditation drifted into a restless sleep, and it was dark when I opened my eyes. The clock read six and rain pounded
“Why are we here? Surely you’re not thinking of taking time to eat?” My stomach churned in protest. Hungry as I was, the very thought of food made me nauseated.
“The brain needs nourishment to function. We don’t eat, we might overlook something that will save Mitch’s life. I’m not willing to take that chance, are you?”
When she put it that way…
We settled in, got a couple Diet Cokes. Coffee would have gone better with our breakfast, but I needed something to chug, to ease the faint edge of fear clinging to my throat. Guess Violet felt the same. It took her no time to drain her glass, pull a pad and pen from her handbag, and focus a not-so-patient stare in my direction. There’d be no getting out of this one. Not that I wanted out, but she could have given me a minute to prepare before going all PI on me.
“Okay, here goes.” I pulled the clip out of my hair, weaving my fingers through the mop of curls, and cradled my head, eyes closed. “The first guy was tall, maybe an inch taller than Mitch, with a shaved head. I only saw the back of him, but he looked overly muscled. Made me think steroids. He wore jeans and a black, nondescript t-shirt. He’s the one who hit Mitch, kicked him.”
The image left my mouth dry, and I sucked down a couple sips of soda. “The second man was average height with short, curly brown hair, a little pudgy. He was standing at the door, and I got the impression he was picking the lock.”
“Why do you think that?”
I took me a minute to bring the image back into focus. “He fumbled, dropped something. It’s not clear what. But after he picked it up and bent over the handle, the door opened.”
“Okay. Go on.”
Our server came up behind Violet with our breakfast, so instead of talking, I pushed my glass out of the way. The scent of grilled sausage and pancakes had my mouth watering, and a few more growls escaped from my belly. I forked in a bite, savoring the flavor of warm maple syrup. Violet had a point. I could feel my brain kicking into gear.
“Keep talking.”
I chased the bite with a swallow of soda. “The other one looked like a misfit, like someone picked him up out of a dumpster, messy, dirty blond hair, short. I couldn’t tell much about his clothes other than they were wrinkled and didn’t fit well, almost falling off his scrawny frame. I didn’t see any faces because they all had their backs to me.”
“So, we’ve got Shaved Head, Pudgy Pick-lock and Messy. That’s what you’re giving me to work with?”
“Um-hmmm. That about sums then up.” I waited until I had her attention.
“Look, can we keep this between us? I know Jayne’s your client and has a right to know, but I’m beyond uncomfortable about this. , and since I didn’t see any faces, I couldn’t positively identify anyone. Honestly I don’t see that it will help the police if we tell them. Nothing is reportable as evidence. There has to be another way to do this, and I’m thinking we need to go back. There are images there, and I need to access them. See if I can get a face-shot.”
She made a face and looked away. A bad sign. After a minute, she blew out a sigh. “Okay. I don’t have to mention it right away. Let’s see what the cops find and see how it goes. We can’t go back until the scene is clear of law enforcement. And we need Jayne’s permission.”
“Call her.” Blood pounded through my veins, pushing me to act. “Get permission so we can move on this as soon as everyone leaves. Please.” I dug into my pancakes. “And considering I’m exhausted and running on pure nerves, it would be good to meditate for a bit, lower my blood pressure so I can think clearly. Mitch needs both of us to be fully functioning.”
Meditation drifted into a restless sleep, and it was dark when I opened my eyes. The clock read six and rain pounded
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