Gone at Zero Hundred 00:00 (5 page)

Jaden, Cody and I were quiet,
contemplating and evaluating the options. The problem was the only thing I knew
how to do, I learned from working with my mom two days a week as an apprentice
for McSwain Investigations. And Cody relied on the income she paid him to help
with his filming equipment, and to pay his rent.

“Wow,” Jaden said, finally breaking
the silence. “That’s a lot of responsibility to take on...”

“I say we keep McSwain Investigations
open,” Cody interrupted, suddenly filled with excitement. He turned the chair
around, straddled the seat and looked directly at me. “That way, you won’t have
to give the retainers back.”

“I don’t usually agree with Cody, but
he might be right, Syd,” Jaden added. “I mean, c’mon, the two of you have been
helping out your mom for years. You know the drill.”

Cody nodded with confidence, like it
was the only thing that made sense.

“We may know the drill,” I said with
a little less enthusiasm. “But, it won’t be that easy convincing clients to pay
a couple of eighteen-year-olds.”

Cody shrugged. “Well, there might be
a way around that.”

“What do you mean?”

“We could show them our abilities,”
he said as if it was a no brainer. “We could call around to some of the clients
on retainer. Like for instance, McAlister Insurance. Your mom did a lot of work
for them. They wouldn’t let us handle anything major, but the auto claims are
pretty easy. Maybe your mom has a few of those small cases lying around. We
could go out and get the goods, film it and send it off to the company showing
we can do it.”

I thought about it; then perked up a
little when I couldn’t see a negative. “I suppose that might work” I said, but
I wasn’t confident it would be as easy as he said. “I can go through the files,
and see what cases are still open. I have to get the place organized, anyway.”

“I don’t envy you that,” Jaden said
when he glanced around at the mess in the office.

After my mom was murdered, the task
force searched through the files - old and new - looking for suspects. Manila
folders had been yanked from the filing cabinets, strewn around the room and
piled high on the floor. They took what they wanted, but didn’t bother to put
anything back when they were done.

“I think that’s the ticket, Syd,”
Cody chimed in, and now he was getting jazzed. I mean, totally jazzed. “We keep
McSwain Investigations up and running. We could even change it to McSwain &
Beck.” He followed the comment with a smirk.

“It makes sense,” Jaden offered.
“That’s really the quickest way you guys will make some dough. Neither one of
you would do well working a nine to five, and it beats waiting tables, any
day.”

“So, what do you think?” Cody asked
me, hopeful.

I could think about it for a while,
but in the end, I knew it was the only thing I was capable of doing. “If you’re
willing to help me, I’m game. The last thing I want to do is wait tables at the
café. Can you see me being forced to put on a cheery face, and serve the rich
kids?”

Cody snorted. “What I can see you
doing is getting miffed with a customer, and dumping a tray of food all over
their laps.”

“Yeah, like maybe the cheerleaders,”
Jaden piped in.

That brought a smile to my face.
“Well,
that
I would enjoy.” Nope, I’m not jealous, much.

DETECTIVE CARTER crept up the hills above an exclusive mansion
keeping in the shadows to stay out of sight. One hand was firmly clasped around
the 9mm Glock clipped at his hip. The other held the end of a
Pelican LED police-issued
flashlight which he used to guide his
way. He followed the footprints noticeable in the mulch, size seven and ten if
he had to take a guess. Sloppy for would-be prowlers looking to rob the place,
or
crazed killers
carrying large weapons—at least that was the
description given by the frantic woman when she phoned police dispatch after she
spotted suspicious activity in the hills while she was jogging.

SNAP!

Hearing the sound, Carter whipped out his gun and waived his
flashlight over the area. He noticed a camera perched on a tripod, peeking out
through a row of bushes that was pointed toward a window on the second floor of
the mansion.

A
camera
, that’s the
large weapon
the caller
complained about?

“Ready, and action!” he heard a male voice say.

“Sutter Beach Police!” Carter moved the flashlight toward the
voice; then pushed his way through a set of bushes to get a look. He shook his
head at what he saw.

“McSwain & Beck, I should have known.” He put his gun
back in the holster, and watched with an amused look on his face.

Cody was squatting down in the brush behind the camera,
filming. He was painted in camouflage to blend in with the brush, and wore an
ear piece with a built-in microphone.

He spoke into the mic. “Looking for two hotshot sleuths?” He
veered the lens of the camera toward a set of branches high up on a tree.

That’s where I was, decked out in black Under Armour tights
and a long-sleeve athletic shirt, with a ski-mask to hide my face. I was
dangling upside down like a bat by a rope I affixed to the tree. I had my own
camera zoomed in, and filming the escapades taking place inside the window of
the mansion. After I got the footage I was looking for, I yanked on the rope,
pulled myself upright and slithered back down.

Cody kept the camera on me until I hit the ground. Then, we
posed in front of the camera with my face still hidden behind the mask.

Cody said into the camera, “Have a cheating spouse? Looking
for a runaway teen? Need to verify facts, gather information, or have an
employee take off with your funds?”

I added, “Or maybe you just need good old-fashioned
surveillance services performed? No job is too big, or too small. Look no
further, McSwain & Beck, the reluctant sleuths are here for you…”

Cody hit stop on the camera, and we bumped fists.

“Fresh,” he said in an animated tone. Nothing got Cody more
excited than when he was behind a camera filming. “I can edit out what we
filmed today; then slice in some of the old footage. It’ll make an awesome
trailer for the site. We’ll be getting clients for McSwain & Beck in no
time.”

“Cool,” I said, trying to show some enthusiasm as I removed
the mask. I approached Detective Carter. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

“A call came into dispatch. Jogger thought some crazy killer
was on the loose up here in the hills.” He gave me a sideways glance - amused
by my ninja attire. “She got the crazy part right.”

“Why did they send a detective, and not a black and white?”

He shrugged. “I happened to be in the area.”

I thought he might be there to check up on me, but I kept
that opinion to myself. Since the death of my mom, he’s been keeping a close
eye on me.

“So, are you two just up here filming for the fun of it, or
you actually working on something?”

I said, “One of my mom’s former clients has an outstanding
case for insurance fraud - typical scam. Cody and I thought if we were able to
get the goods, they’d let us continue to work on some of their smaller cases.
“Check it out.”

I let him view the footage on the video-camera that I filmed
while up in the tree: a guy was sitting in a chair watching a young woman in a
cheerleading outfit doing various flips and moves using a brass pole.

“The woman filed a lawsuit against the insurance company
after her BMW was rear-ended at an intersection, and she wants the insurance
company to pay. She says the accident caused permanent issues with her spine.
Claims she can no longer work, she’s having trouble sleeping, yada, yada,
yada…”

Carter tilted his head to the side, trying to follow the
girl’s moves through the camera. “I didn’t know the body could even do that.”

“The guy’s a big shot producer auditioning her for a part in
his next reality TV project. Allegedly.”

Carter smirked. “Which is what: Bring It On, Part Deux?”

I couldn’t help myself, I laughed. So did Cody.

Then, Carter leveled me with a serious look. “So, how are you,
you doing okay?”

Cody busied himself with the camera, so he could give us a
moment of privacy.

“I’m doing okay. It took me a while ya know, to get back into
the swing of things. Jaden and Cody are helping me get through it. There’s a
lot to keep my mind occupied. I mean, I still have a lot of bad moments, when
I’m alone, or in the firehouse.”

He draped an arm on my shoulder. “I’m sure it’s hard. But,
I’m proud of you for picking yourself up, and plugging away.”

“It’s what my mom would want.”

He gave me a warm hug. “Well, I think you and Cody got the
goods. Why don’t you pack it in? You know the crazies come out at night here in
Sutter Beach.”

“But we’re a couple of hotshot sleuths,” I joked.

“Yeah, didn’t you hear the teaser?” Cody added.

Carter gave us an amused look. “Just get going, will ya’. The
neighbor sounds like the nosey type. She’s liable to call in the F.B.I.”

Cody and I loaded the Canon and tripod into the case; then
all three of us walked back down the grounds to where my pickup was parked. We
hauled the camera case into a compartment in the back of the vehicle, under the
retractable truck-bed cover. Underneath was an elaborate book-shelf. It looked
like a small library with all the legal books, research materials, and an
impressive collection of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. I built a shelf
system all around the sides. The shelf rotated on the push of a button built
into the panel on the inside of the bed.

Carter let out a whistle. “That’s impressive. Did you build
it?”

“Yeah. Woodshop class my sophomore year. It helps to keep
things organized.” I retrieved a file credenza filled with daily journals,
separated by different colored tabs with titles in alphabetical order. I pulled
out the one with ‘Surveillance’ listed on the tab, wrote a quick notation with
the date and time, slipped it back into place and closed the door.

“You definitely are your mother’s daughter,” Carter said.
“I’ve never met anyone who was so organized.”

I glanced at him for a moment. A feeling of pride washed over
me. I never thought I would ever hear anyone say I was like my mother. I always
thought we were as different as night and day. She was the gorgeous
model-look-alike with brains and confidence to do almost anything, and I am the
tomboy who struggled just to get through high school.

“Hey, thanks for cuttin’ us some slack,” I said. “If it was
any other officer that found us up here, he probably would have demanded we get
a permit to film.”

“Don’t sweat it, kid,” he said, as he headed toward his
vehicle.

I stepped up behind the wheel of the pickup, while Cody
hopped into the passenger side; then I cranked over the engine and we followed
the Charger down the hill.

“Does he always call you kid?” Cody said.

“Yeah,” I said, and a warm smile spread across my face. Cody
didn’t know that his simple question would have me yearning for a time in my
life that I wished I could have back for a redo….

AS A young child growing up in Sutter Beach, I sort of earned
a reputation with the cops, long before my mom became an investigator. Oh, stop
judging. It’s not like I was a criminal, or anything. It’s just that I sort of
had a case of
adventure-itus,
at least that’s what I prefer to call it.
I learned of the ailment for the first time when I was five-years-old, and
snuck out of the house during a rain storm. Hours later, Officer Carter - he
was a rookie back then - found me hiding in a dog house with a puppy cradled in
my arms. He got the call when a resident complained of a
prowler
climbing the six-foot fence into their yard. Yeah, this wasn’t the first time I
was referred to as a prowler.

My
adventure-itus
struck again when I was seven.
School had just let out for the summer, so I was bored. My mom was at work at a
big-city law firm, and the babysitter was on the phone with her boyfriend, so I
slipped out the back door. This time, I was found at a market several miles
away from home. Officer Carter got the call, again. When he walked in the
store, I was sitting on the counter eating a peanut butter sandwich, reading ‘
The
Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
’, and regaling the store owner with my own
tales of adventure. Ironically, that one also happened during a storm. Whoever
said it never rains in Southern California has never been here during the month
of February.

The adventure I planned when I was ten-years-old is the
reason my mom ended up quitting her nine-to-five job at the law firm, opened up
shop as an investigator, and put me to work as her apprentice. She was worried
one of my adventures would end with me winding up in Juvie Hall. She was
probably right, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. Every little girl yearned
to know who their father was, don’t they? I mean, it was common knowledge that
moms doted on their sons, and dads thought their little girls were pretty
little princesses. Right? Otherwise, why would they have those silly
father/daughter dances at school?