Whiskey Rebellion (Romantic Mystery/Comedy) Book 1 (Addison Holmes Mysteries) (5 page)

“It probably wasn’t
a good idea to tell John Hyatt you’d be able to get the rest of the money that soon,” Kate said. “You know how he has that superiority complex and likes to make sure the little people know where they belong. He’ll make up a horrible story about you and spread it around town if you don’t keep your word. Remember when that awful rumor about Mary Gantz went around? He told everyone she’d defaulted on her car loan because she was paying so much in medical bills to treat a stubborn case of gonorrhea.”

“
He
started that rumor?” I asked, shocked. “She’s still in therapy over the scandal it caused. What a horrible man.”

“Exactly my point.
Don’t cross John Hyatt. How much are you short?”

“About five thousand dollars, which is why I need another job.”

“If you need one that badly, I could let you do some surveillance work for me at the agency. We’re a little overburdened at the moment. Adultery and fraud are up this month.”

Kate had been a police officer for two years before deciding she wasn’t a team player, so she quit and opened her own private investigations office between Whiskey Bayou and Savannah. 

The McClean Agency was one of the most popular in all Georgia. Kate had kept friendly relations with her contacts in the police department, and she still got to carry a gun. Sometimes I was a little jealous of the gun. It made her look really cool and important whenever we went out to dinner somewhere. All I ever got to carry around was a bunch of ungraded term papers.

“I’m glad business is good for you,” I said, perking up at the thought that someone else’s misfortune could be money in my pocket. “What would I have to do?”

“It’s a pretty easy job. I’ll give you some files on the people we’ve been hired to investigate and you follow them around and take pictures. You’re not licensed so you can’t meet with clients and you’ll have to keep accurate records so I can write the reports. We’ll put you on the payroll as an independent contractor and pay you a hundred dollars a night. You only have to make sure the targets don’t see you.”

“A hundred dollars a night! I bet Mattress Mattie doesn’t make a hundred dollars a night.”

“Mattress Mattie doesn’t have teeth, Addison. I don’t think you can compare the two.”

“Whatever. I’ll take the job. If I do work for you in the evenings and eat
Top Ramen for every meal, I might just be able to pull this off. This is great. Thanks.”

“What are friends for? Stop by the office after school tomorrow and you can fill out the paperwork.”

I was going to be the best employee the McClean Agency had ever seen. Sam Spade would be no more than a name by the time Addison Holmes had made her mark. The sigh must have tipped Kate off to my thoughts.

“You’re totally having delusions of grandeur, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” I said, pouting.

“Why don’t I show you how exciting detective work is? Finish your beer and get out of your pajamas.”

“You won’t regret this, Kate.”

“That’s what you said when we were in the tenth grade and you talked me into sneaking out and borrowing my mom’s car to go to Brad Cooper’s party.”

“Yeah, but she never did find out how that dent got on her fender.”

The rain was still pouring when we left my apartment and headed out to the parking lot. Kate had no problem with parking in range of falling bricks, and after I looked at the car she was driving, I could see why she wouldn’t care.

“Nice car,” I said, eyeing the taupe Taurus with immediate dislike.

“The first rule of thumb is to always blend in to your surroundings.”

I looked at my shiny red Z and back at Kate’s Taurus with a shake of my head.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take my car?” I asked. I grimaced as the sticky stuff on the door handle attached itself to my hand.

“No, I just told you we need to blend in. People have a tendency to notice flashy
red sports cars. Especially one that says HISTORY on the license plate.”

“All right, all right, show me the ropes,” I said. “Who are we going to bust?”

“No one,” Kate said with an eye roll. 

We headed
into Savannah at a boring, law-abiding speed and it was everything I could do not to fidget in my seat and sneak glances at the speedometer. We turned into a sub-division of middle class, ranch-style houses built in the seventies. There were cars of various makes and models parked along the street, and I was ashamed to say Kate was right. My car would have stood out like a sore thumb, even with the added cover of the rain. She parked behind a minivan that had “Wash Me” written in the dust on the back window and then shut off the engine. I cracked my knuckles, not used to sitting in silence with Kate.

“So if the first rule is to blend in,” I said, “what’s the second rule?”

“The second rule is that we do not confront or apprehend,” she said. “Not ever. And the third and most important rule is that we never break the law. Your only job is to watch, photograph and take notes for the file. That’s ninety percent of what we do. We rely on the facts and our instincts to get us out of trouble if the need arises. Then it’s case solved and we file it in the drawer.”

“Cool. I’ve got great instincts.”

To give Kate credit, she did keep her face perfectly blank after I made this statement. I had terrible instincts, and no one knew that better than Kate.

Kate had always been the serious one, bordering on anal, and then she evened it out by having a sense of humor so dry it was almost too late to laugh by the time you thought about what she was saying. Kate never got into tr
ouble. Unless she was with me.

W
hile my body was finishing my homework and doing chores, my mind was thinking of different ways Kate and I could have the best adventure possible. Whether that be taking apart her parents’ television to build a robot to do our chores or stalking a teacher home so we could see if he was really a superhero in disguise. About the time we reached our senior year, Kate was finally able to tell me no and think of creative ways to keep me from doing anything too over the top or just plain stupid.

I owe
d Kate a lot.

I was startled back into reality
as the Taurus sputtered to life and Kate drove out of the neighborhood.

“Where are we going?” I asked, confused. “We just got here.”

“Addison, we’ve been here for half an hour. I’ve taken pictures and given you a full rundown of what you can expect when you’re on your own. You, however, have been humming the theme song to
Growing Pains
and checking the mirror to see if your roots are showing.”

She was right. I was hopeless. Sitting still was not one of my strengths. 

“You’re a good friend,” I said, patting her on the arm.

Monday

“You look like you’ve had a rough day.”

I winced at the chirpy voice that was, in my opinion, the equivalent of fingernails on a chalkboard.

Rose Marie Valentine teaches choir in the room next to mine, and unfortunately her singing voice is even worse than her speaking voice. The walls are thin at James Madison High School, and sometimes I wish I could teach kids about the Battle of Little Bighorn in a padded cell. If only life were that easy.

Rose Marie was the last person I wanted to talk to today. In fact, I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I wanted to be the invisible woman today, and I figured if I wished it hard enough, kept my eyes closed and didn’t say anything to acknowledge her presence, she’d just go away and leave me floating in an invisible cloud of depression. 

“Are you all right, Addison?”

So much for luck. I
slowly brought my head up off my desk and peeled away the term paper that was stuck to my cheek. I could tell by the smears on the page that I’d have a big fat F marked in red on the side of my face. A merry band of hammering men were pounding away in my left temple, and I was pretty sure I’d hit rock bottom around my third period class. Technically, things could only get better.

Once his family had been notified, t
he news of Mr. Butler’s death had spread through our small community like wildfire. I’d been fortunate that my involvement in finding his body hadn’t gotten out yet, but I wasn’t holding onto too much hope my luck would continue.

Teachers had been roaming the hall
s all day with red-rimmed eyes and the school counselor had been available for all students and faculty who were having a difficult time coping with the situation. I personally wouldn’t take advice or comfort from James Madison’s counselor if I had an ingrown toenail. My mother went to school with him, and she said he used to tie firecrackers to cat’s tails and light them when he was a kid.

“Addison?”

“I’m fine, Rose Marie. I just have a little bit of a headache.”

What I was really thinking was that it wasn’t such a great day to go into the police station and give Detective Dempsey the statement he was so hot and bothered for or to start a new job, but then I thought of the little house on Hutton Street and decided to suck it up. 

I
opened my eyes and saw more than I wanted to of Rose Marie. She was dressed in hot pink capris and a pink and white striped sailor’s top. What they say is true about large women not wearing horizontal stripes. Her permed blond hair was teased high around her head, and she always wore two perfect dots of rouge on her cheeks. I had the sudden urge to take out my makeup sponge and show her how to blend.

“Bless your heart,” she said in a syrupy accent thick enough to spread on toast.

Rose Marie wasn’t a bad person. She was just someone who took a great deal of energy to deal with, like a toddler or a Great Dane.

“I just can’t believe Veronica said those things to you at lunch today,” she continued. “I d
on’t believe for a minute that someone posted naked pictures of you on the Internet, but I’ll go home and check for you this afternoon just to make sure.”

“Thanks, Rose Marie. You’re a true friend.”

“I’m sure you’d do the same for me,” she said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Veronica posted those pictures herself.
” Veronica had experience in posting naked pictures of me on the Internet, so I wasn’t completely surprised by her bombshell during lunch. She’d done the same thing our senior year after I’d been voted Most Likely to Succeed by setting up a camera in the girls locker room. I like to think she wouldn’t have bothered with such a thing if she’d known in advance that my greatest successes would be teaching high school history and being the president of the Whiskey Bayou Yoga Association. But here we are again.

“
She’s always been vindictive and spoiled,” Rose Marie continued. “I heard she seduced her mother’s third husband when she was sixteen and blackmailed him with the tape because he didn’t buy her the car she wanted.”

“I heard that, too,” I said.
I knew for a fact Veronica had always been vindictive and spoiled. Just like I knew the moment she came back to town she’d set her sights on Greg Nelson. It was me who was naïve enough to think he’d ignore her advances since he was so madly in love with me.

“I tell you, you girls have been entertaining this town for twenty years, but it’s not just a simple case of female rivalry anymore. In my opinion, Veronica’s out to draw blood.
I’d watch my back if I were you.”

“Well that makes me feel better,” I said.

God bless Dairy Queen. When life lets you down, they’re always there to pick up the pieces with the help of twenty-percent butter fat.

I’d gone home to change into what I considered to be “spying on adulterous spouses attire.” Which included a short black skirt, a George Michael concert tank top that said FAITH in hot pink glitter, a pair of flip flops, an oversized straw hat, and large sunglasses to help hide my identity. I’d wiped the red marker off my face, but I still wasn’t in top form, so I stopped for a banana split to calm my nerves before driving to Kate’s office.  

I was multitasking, steering with my knees while eating my ice cream as I weaved in and out of traffic on Harry Truman Parkway. My stereo was cranked and Lynyrd Skynyrd was vibrating the fillings in my teeth.

I savored each bite of ice cream and hot fudge and almost missed my exit because I was lost in semi-orgasmic bliss. I was in the far left lane of traffic, so I punched my horn to warn the people around me and zipped over two lanes. A black Ford F150 swerved when I cut him off at the exit, and I winced and waved an apology as I headed down the exit ramp.

I
n my rearview mirror I could see the truck parked at a funny angle on the side of the road and all four of its tires smoking. Whoever was inside looked to be okay though so I didn’t stop to lend a hand.

I glanced back at the road in time to see the stop sign, so I slammed on my brakes and jerked as my body slammed against the seat belt and my head hit the steering wheel. Fortunately, I’d finished my ice cream because the plastic container was now face down on the floorboard.