The following is another excerpt from my work in progress, The Throuple Private Eye—Business is Booming, a Jen McDowell Series. This is the second draft. I’m at 50k words now. If you want to catch up, order the novella The Throuple Private Eye—Hate Crimes, on Amazon ($2.99). The link is https://www.amazon.com/dp/B084LTTHGN. Enjoy.

CHAPTER 12 (Cont.)

“Okay,” Molly said, hiding her disappointment. “That mean we’re looking for another woman who had the motive to kill Ken. Maybe the crime lab will get some DNA from it. We’ll wait and see.”

After Kiera left, Molly said to Jen, “Well, that was a big disappointment. Maybe she’s telling the truth. “By the way, Ken has his first court appearance tomorrow. Care to come with me. I’ve never been in court before. When the judge comes it, do we bow or genuflect?”

Jen laughed. “Do you know what’s going to happen?” Molly shook her head. “For this first appearance, they’ll bring Ken in with his lawyer. It’s rather routine. It’s usually a lower court. The judge will inform Ken of the charges and explain his rights. Normally, bail is set, but in this case I doubt there will be any bail or one that he can afford.”

Jen and Molly arrived at the courthouse early so they could get a front row seat near the defense table. Kiera arrive shortly later and sat next to Molly right behind the defense table. At the appointed time, two police guards arrived escorting Ken in shackles. Ken nodded at Kiera and sat down at the table. His lawyer sat next to him. A few minutes later, the court clerk and bailiff entered and remained standing. A minute later, the judge entered, and the bailiff announced, “All Rise. Court is now in session. Judge Paquet presiding.”

As everyone stood up, Kiera pulled out a knife and yelled, “You cheating bastard.” She then reached over the railing and stabbed Ken in the back. Ken yelled as the bailiff, and the guards rushed over. Kiera raised her knife to stab Ken again, but before she could, Molly grabbed her by the collar of her coat and pulled her back into her seat. Ken’s lawyer grabbed Kiera’s knife hand as the police guards subdued her. It was over in seconds. One of the guards lowered Ken face down onto the floor as the bailiff called 911. Kiera was taken out in handcuffs. Ken was taken to the ER along with his guards.
Later that afternoon, Jonah walked into Jen and Molly’s office. Molly immediately stood up. “I swear, Jonah,” she stammered. “I never meant for that to happen. I didn’t think for one second she’d try to kill Ken.”

Jonah laughed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, so save it for your disposition.”
“What?” Molly asked. “What are you doing here?”

Jonah chuckled. “What a day huh? I came to tell you to come by the station tomorrow and give us a statement. You’re one of several witnesses. By the way, you saved Mr. Rice’s life when you pulled Kiera back. Congratulations.”

“I just reacted,” Molly said. “How is Ken Rice?”

“He’ll live. The knife puncture one lung but missed any other vital organs. Of course, we may have to reschedule his court appearances.”

“How did Kiera get a knife into the court room?” Jen asked. “They have metal detectors.”

“That’s the funny part,” Jonah answered. “It was a plastic knife. It’s a wonder it didn’t snap in two.”
“What about Kiera?” Jen asked.

“Oh, didn’t you hear?” asked Jonah. “She confessed. She took a plea bargain. The DA won’t charge her in Sandra Rice’s murder if she testifies against Ken. She will still face charges for attempted murder. She and Mr. Rice planned the murder of his wife for the insurance, so they could be together. We have him now. There’s no way he’ll get out of this. I expect he’ll confess too. Nice job Molly.”

After Jonah left, Jen turned to Molly. “Way to go. You first case and you managed to get your client arrested for attempted murder. Don’t expect to get paid.”
​
Molly started laughing and couldn’t stop. Every time she looked at Jen, she would start laughing all over again. This went on for fifteen minutes.

The following is another excerpt from my work in progress, The Throuple Private Eye—Business is Booming, a Jen McDowell Series. This is the second draft. I’m at 49k words now. If you want to catch up, order the novella The Throuple Private Eye—Hate Crimes, on Amazon ($2.99). The link is https://www.amazon.com/dp/B084LTTHGN. Enjoy.

CHAPTER 12 (Cont.)

Molly picked up a stack of paper from the printer. “Ken and Kiera were together in Tampa in May. I scrolled through Kiera’s social media pages and she posted several pictures of herself in Tampa. She even wrote how beautiful it was. However, she didn’t mention Ken. Marty found out that Ken was there at the same time.”

Marty took the cue. “Affirmative. I checked the AFE website…”

“AFE?” Jen interrupted to ask.

“Sorry,” Marty said. “The Association for Facility Engineering. Their annual conference was held in Tampa at the same time. That’s when Ken got certified as a Facility Engineer. AFE posted a list and even a picture of all the candidates. Ken was in the picture.”

“They were smart enough not to stay at a hotel near the convention center,” Molly added. “but what are the odds. You know they slept together.”

“We’ll still need proof,” Jen added.

“I know,” Molly replied. “I already talked to Jonah. He said the case is still open and if they hooked up in Florida, that could be proof of motive. That’s all he needs to get a warrant to pull Kiera’s credit card history and telephone records. He called the hotel and confirmed that Kiera stayed there. He can get video confirmation. Ken had a room at the hotel by the convention center, but odds are he never slept there. We got her, Jen. I was right--the bitch lied to us. She never ended the affair with Ken.”

“Wow,” Jen exclaimed. “Now what?”

“I don’t know,” Molly answered. “I guess we wait for confirmation from Jonah. What did you find out about the mysterious Mr. Richard or Richardson?”

“I think his real name is Richardson,” Jen answered. “He has a family in the suburbs, a wife and two kids. He also engaged to a Asian woman.”

“What the fuck?” Molly said then glanced at Marty who scowled back. “That cheating bastard. What about Biyu?”

“No sign of her yet,” Jen replied. “No sign of her, but his fiancé isn’t Biyu. It appears he spends the week with his real family and the weekends with his new girlfriend. And get this… He met her through an agency that connects American men with Asian brides. I think that’s how he met Biyu.”

“Now what?” Marty asked.

“I plan to pay a visit with Mrs. Richardson,” Jen answered, “and the new girlfriend.” Just then a timer on Molly’s desk went off. “What’s that for?” Jen asked.

Molly jumped up. “I have brownies in the oven. Time to take them out.”

“You baked brownies?” Jen said, surprised. She had never known Molly to bake anything. A quick look from Molly told her not to question it. She glanced at Marty.

“I like brownies,” he said.

After Molly dashed out of the room. Jen walked over to Marty who stood up smiling. “Listen, Marty, Molly is my best friend in the whole world.” She poked Marty in the chest. “If you hurt her, I. Will. Shoot. You. In. Your. Good. Leg… Understand?”

The smile left Marty’s face. “Roger that,” he replied. “I would never hurt Molly. We just met. We’ve been dating for what” …One week? She told me what she has been through. I would never cause her any pain.”

“Just see that you don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Molly asked as she walked into the room with a plate of brownies still warm from the oven.

Jen turned around, “We’re just talking.” Jen had never seen this side of Molly. Of course, they never double dated or were around other guys except for Jen’s boys. Jen figured that that Molly was definitely flirting and wooing Marty. She had never seen Molly bake anything much less offer to bake. Jen decided that the less she said the better or she’d have to answer to Molly later. Jen had to admit that the brownies were good, and Marty scarfed down half the plate.

The next day Molly told Jen she had an idea on how to trick Kiera into confessing that her affair with Ken never ended. She showed Jen a photograph. It was of a clear plastic evidence bag. Inside the bag was a red thong and bra.

“Is this for real?” Jen asked. “That thong and panties sorta looked like mine.”

Molly laughed “I was pressed for time. I’ll buy you a new pair. I stole the evidence bag from Jonah.”

Jen laughed. “Remind me to lock my bedroom door. So, how do you see this going down?”

“I’ll show this picture to Kiera and say that a contact in homicide took then picture and gave it to me. I’ll ask if they’re hers. If she says yes, I’ll know she’s lying; trying to cover for Ken. I’m hoping she’ll confess to continuing the affair with Ken.”

“And if she says they aren’t hers?” Jen asked.

“Then I guess she’s telling the truth. I set up a meeting with her for this afternoon. Can you stick around as a witness?”

“Will you tell her you know that she hooked up with Ken in Tampa?”

“I’m not sure how to handle that. Let’s see what happens this afternoon.”

Jen agreed to hang around. When Kiera arrived, Molly showed her the photograph. “I asked a friend in homicide if there was any unusual evidence that indicated Ken was having an affair. He gave me this. It’s picture of a thong and bra. Are they yours?”

Kiera looked at the picture and turned it around a couple of times. “It’s hard to tell, but they’re not mine. Not my color.” Kiera showed little emotion.

Molly had hoped for a confession. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Kiera answered. “I told you Ken might being having an affair. He’s quite the playboy. 

The following is another excerpt from my work in progress, The Throuple Private Eye—Business is Booming, a Jen McDowell Series. This is the second draft. I’m at 47k words now. If you want to catch up, order the novella The Throuple Private Eye—Hate Crimes, on Amazon ($2.99). The link is https://www.amazon.com/dp/B084LTTHGN. Enjoy.

CHAPTER 12

On Friday, Jen decide to follow the elusive Jimmy Richardson. She knew by now that he always checked his post office box after work on Fridays. She parked in a spot where she had a good view of the entrance to the post office. Short after 4:30 pm, Jimmy showed up. Jen thought it would be best if she relied on the GPS tracker she planted on his cars rather than risk being spotted tailing him. After a short time, the tracking software indicated that Jimmy’s BMW was moving. Jen followed at a safe distance. She already had the address where he was heading from Charlize.

Jimmy drove up to a luxury apartment building and entered the underground parking. Jen decided that she could monitor the tracker from her office, so she headed back. Just after sunset, an alarm on her software told her that Jimmy was on the move. When the tracker showed that Jimmy had parked, Jen found the address. It was a nice restaurant downtown. She grabbed her camera and headed downtown.

Jen found the restaurant and used valent parking for her car. She decided against taking her camera inside the restaurant; too conspicuous. Once inside, she told the maître d, “I’m looking for a guy named Richardson.” The maître d looked puzzled and shook his head. “His wife is oriental,” she added.

“I think you mean Mr. Richards,” the maître d said. “He’s here with his fiancé. Shall I take you to his table?”

“No,” Jen replied. “I can find them.” She entered the dining room. Once inside the dining room, it wasn’t difficult to find Jimmy and his date, a young Asian woman, but definitely not Biyu. Jen took out her cellphone and snapped a picture while pretending to take a picture of another group. Jen left by a side exit.

Monday morning, Jen’s software told her that Jimmy was driving the BMW. Jen figured he would drive to the garage, switch cars and head to work. Thirty minutes later, her trackers told her that’s exactly what he did. The tracker indicated he was now at work. Jen decided to check out his office. Before lunch he drove to the real estate agency where Jimmy worked. She parked across the street and waited. She didn’t have to wait long. Jimmy walked out, got in his car and drove off.
Jen took that moment to check out Jimmy’s place of employment to see what she could find out. She walked in and was greeted in the lobby by an elderly woman sitting at a desk. “May I help you?” the woman asked.

“I’m looking for Mr. Jimmy Richardson,” Jen answered, using Jimmy’s real name.

“I sorry,” said the woman. “He’s with a client at the moment, and I don’t expect him back for some time. Can I make an appointment for you, or would you like to see one of our other agents?”

“No,” Jen answered. “That’s alright. I’ll just call him. Can I have his card?”

The woman removed a card from a holder and handed it to Jen. “Can I tell him your name?”

Jen put the card in her purse. “No thanks. I’ll just call him.” Jen left. Now she knew Jimmy’s real name was Richardson and not Richards.

Later that afternoon, Jen’s tracker indicated that Jimmy was leaving work in his Honda. To Jen’s surprise, he drove to the suburbs. When the tracker stopped moving, Jen located the address and headed out. The address was in an upscale Atlanta suburb. It was a gated community and a card key was required to gain entrance. Jen noted that there was no wall around the perimeter of the neighborhood. She parked nearby, found a way inside and walked to the address. By the time she arrived across the street from the address, she was worn out from walking. She wished she had worn her blades today.

The house looked like a typical upscale home for the neighborhood: two-car garage, fenced in backyard and well-kept yard with flowers and nice bushes under the windows. Jen thought if she used her camera, it would cause suspicion, and she could just stand around and stare at the house. She sat down on the curb and pretended to adjust her prosthetics. After a few minutes she saw a Caucasian woman through the front living room window. She was soon followed by two young children and then by Jimmy Richardson. Apparently, Jen concluded, Jimmy has a real family here, and is having an affair with a Chinese woman.

When Jen arrived at her home office, she was surprised to find Molly and Marty both there. “What’s going on?” she asked. Before Molly could answer, Jen walked over and offered her hand to Marty. “You must be William,” Jen said with a grin. “Molly has told me so much about you.”

Marty laughed. “It won’t work. Molly warned me about you. I’m Marty. We met last Friday at the VFW.”

Molly glared at Jen. “Not funny,” she said. Then she changed her tone and said, “Marty came over to help me do some research. We found out some things about Ken and Kiera”

Jen laughed at her weak attempt to embarrass Molly. She glanced down on Molly’s desk, and there was a dish of M&M’s. Pointing at the dish, she said, “You’ve got to be kidding.”

Molly smile. “What? Our expensive monogrammed candy? It was your idea. I got you some too. I think yours are the ones with peanuts.”

Jen waited as Marty moved his stuff from Jen desk over to a coffee table. “I’ve found out some interesting things about my Mr. Richardson too,” Jen said.

“Richardson?” Molly asked. “I thought his name was Richard.”
​
Molly chuckled. “Well, it is, and it isn’t. I’ll tell you all about it, but you go first. What did you discover?”

The following is another excerpt from my work in progress, The Throuple Private Eye—Business is Booming, a Jen McDowell Series. This is the second draft. I’m at 46k words now. If you want to catch up, order the novella The Throuple Private Eye—Hate Crimes, on Amazon ($2.99). The link is https://www.amazon.com/dp/B084LTTHGN. Enjoy.

CHAPTER 11

Prada slept in bed with Jen, squeezed in between her and Doc with Jonah on the other side of Jen. It was a bit crowded, but Jen thought it was sweet of the boys to let Prada share the bed. The next morning, Jen got up and gave Prada some kibble for breakfast. Prada turned up her nose at the kibble. Jen then made a cheese omelet with bacon for herself. She left the omelet on the table as she made herself a cup of coffee. When she turned around, the omelet was gone. She looked at Prada’s bowl. She hadn’t touched the kibble.

“WTF? Young lady,” she half shouted at Prada. “Did you eat my omelet?” Prada tried to look innocent, but the bacon and cheese on her lips gave her away. Jen just laughed and made another omelet and bacon.

As she was cooking, Molly came to the office to get Prada. Jen noticed she was wearing the same clothes she wore last night. “Prada’s good,” Jen said. “We just had omelets and bacon. Prada turned up her nose at the kibble.”

“Damn, Aunt Jen,” Molly complained. “You’ve spoiled her. I have to give her some meds, and I’ll take her home.”

Jen grinned. “So, you stayed all night with Marty? How was it?”

Molly smiled. “It was great.”

Jen chuckled. “Come on girl, I want details. Spill.”

Molly stopped smiling. “When have you ever shared any details about your sex life?”

Jen could see that she offended Molly. “That’s different. We’re in a committed relationship.”

Molly put her hands on her hips. “And what am I, your neighborhood whore?”

Jen walked over to Molly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that at all. I don’t want to fight with you over some guy. You must really like Marty.”

Molly relaxed. “Yeah. Jen, I think he might be the one. We talked all night.”

Jen chuckled. “You mean you didn’t tear each other’s clothes off as soon as you got inside his place and have sex like they do in the movies?”

It was Molly’s turn to laugh. “Yeah, we did that except it takes longer with a prothesis. That was a first for me.”

“Oh?” Jen chuckled. “I didn’t know you were a virgin.”

Molly shot a rubber band at Jen. “Very funny. I meant that I had never had sex with a one-legged man.”

“But you managed somehow,” Jen suggested.

“We managed,” Molly answered smiling.

“So, what’s he like?” Jen asked.

“Well, he has an engineering degree from Georgia University…”

“Georgia Tech,” Jen corrected.

“What?” Molly asked.

“His degree is from Georgia Tech, not Georgia University—two different schools.”

“So,” Molly said, a little pissed. “you checked him out already?”

Jen realized she screwed up. “Sorry, but I was worry about you. You left with a guy you just met and spent the night with him. What else about him?”

Molly sat down. “I don’t know how much you know, but he was born and raised here in Atlanta. He’s enrolled in the graduate program for his master’s in engineering. He’s real smart. He lost his leg in Afghanistan.”

“IED?” Jen asked.

“No, sniper.” Molly answered. “He doesn’t have much PTSD like we do. His is a mild case.”

Jed and Molly talked about Marty for a few more minutes. Finally, Jen asked, “Will you go out with him again?”

“Are you kidding?” Molly answered. “We’re going dancing again this Friday. I’m telling you, Marty might be the one. That reminds me, he said something that got me thinking. I told him about the case we’re working on for Kiera. He said to me that we’re looking for “reasonable doubts”. I asked what he meant by that and he said in a murder trial in Georgia, all twelve jurors must agree beyond a reasonable doubt that the defendant is guilty.”

Molly let that thought sink in. “I think that Kiera isn’t asking us to find who killed Sandra. I think she wants us to find reasonable doubt that he may not have killed his wife.”

Jen was a little puzzled. “So?”

“I think she’s playing us.”

“What?” Jen replied. “Why?”

Molly stood up. “Bear with me for a minute. Suppose that Kiera and Ken never ended their affair? Maybe they planned to kill Sandra. They just cooled their affair because they knew the police would discover it. That may explain why Sandra was stabbed only once. More stab wounds would indicate a crime of passion and implicate Ken.”

“But why?” Jen asked again.

“So, Keira and Ken could get married. Don’t forget, the police report said there was a million-dollar life insurance police on Sandra that was purchase six months prior to her murder. Excellent motive if you ask me.”

“Okay, I might buy that theory,” Jen replied. “but you have to prove it. How are you going to do that?”
​
Molly shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know… yet.” Molly removed Prada’s meds from her purse and walked over to Prada. Prada started to whine and tried to move away, but she couldn’t move fast enough without her harness and wheels. Molly caught her and gave her the pills.

I’m a little late posting today. The following is another excerpt from my work in progress, The Throuple Private Eye—Business is Booming, a Jen McDowell Series. This is the second draft. I’m at 43k words now. If you want to catch up, order the novella The Throuple Private Eye—Hate Crimes, on Amazon ($2.99). The link is https://www.amazon.com/dp/B084LTTHGN. Enjoy.

CHAPTER 10 (cont.)
 
“We’re going to call it a night,” Molly said. She kissed Jen on the cheek and left with Marty. On the way out, Molly turned and winked at Jen. Navada sat down to talk with Jen. Jen thought he was very charming. She felt as if he was just being polite and keeping her company.

As long as they had food or drinks, they could take off their facemasks. Navada got up and returned with a plate full of French fries for them to nibble on. He then when over to the bar a returned with two beers. Jen kept a close on the beers as the bartender filled the glasses. It was habit she developed on the police force. A girl can’t be too careful.

When they both removed their facemasks, Jen got a good look at Navada. She already had noticed his piercing blue eyes. Now she saw his eye lashes. He had beautiful, long eyelashes; the kind that a woman would kill to have. He also had a beautiful smile. He explained how he was Marty’s best friend and roommate from Georgia Tech. They also took ROTC together. When they were commissioned, he was commissioned in the Infantry while Marty, with his high GPA was commissioned in the Engineers. Navada was still on active duty, stationed at Fort Stewart, in Savanna, Georgia with the 188th Infantry Brigade.

Jen couldn’t take her eyes off his eyes. On his part, he held her gaze while talking. Despite herself, she was attracted to him. She decided she should slow down her drinking. She was two beers short of going home with him. She started nursing her beer. As Navada talked, Jen played with her hair—twisting and twirling it. Eventually, she moved her fingers down to the top button of her shirt and fiddled with it. She fantasized a little. He was funny. He made her laugh ever few minutes.

Soon she was convinced that Navada was flirting with her. She also realized that she was flirting with him. On the one hand she felt guilty because she had two live in boyfriends at home. She felt like she was cheating even though everything was innocent enough. On the other hand, she was excited to find out she could still attract a hot male like Navada. After she lost her legs, she thought no guy would be interested in her, Doc was an exception.

At one point, Navada lightly touched her arm. He pulled his hand back quickly and apologized. Jen liked it. She had noticed his arms earlier. He obviously worked out and was in good shape. She imagined that he had six pack abs. Finally, the bartender called last call. It was time to go. Jen said good night and started toward the door. Navada followed. Once outside, Jen stopped. “My car is just over there,” she said as she pointed.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” Navada said.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jen said. Truth is, she didn’t trust herself not to jump into bed with him. “Listen, Navada,” she started to explain. “You’re a nice guy and all, but I’m in a committed relationship. Let’s not start something we can’t finish.” It didn’t sound like herself.“Oh, I see,” Navada said. “I understand. I was just being polite. Can I kiss you goodnight?”Jen shook her head. “Like I said, let’s not start something.” She turned and walked away. On the drive home, she kept kicking herself. Afterall, she thought. One hook up wouldn’t  hurt would it? Jen already knew the answer to her question. She began to review her conversation with Navada. The entire time she talked to him, he never once looked at another woman. Lord knows there were plenty of hot woman there with two good legs, she thought. So, what does that make him? Is he gay? A trans? A captain in the infantry—not likely. So, what is it? Maybe he’s a sociopath, or a serial killer. Nobody’s perfect.Something else seems a little off to her. She felt the same about Marty. Then it struck her. Navada and Marty were born and raised in Atlanta and yet hardly had an accent. She knew from her experience on the police force, that most people in Atlanta don’t have a distinct Southern accent. The accent is more Midland. In these guy’s case, Jen figured after four years college and a few years in the Army where everyone from all the over country are thrown together, the guys lost most of their accent. They hardly ever dropped a ‘fixing to’ or a ‘y’all’.

​Later that night, as Jen was working late in her office, Molly texted her. Attached to her text was a selfie of Molly grinning with Marty in the background removing his artificial leg. The picture wasn’t too clear, but Jen was certain that Marty was naked. Now she regretted not kissing Navada.
Jen decided to do a background check on Marty. It was easy enough to find information on him. He was searching for work, so he had a large social media presence. After a few clicks, Jen found what she was looking for.

Marty earned a BS in engineering from Georgia Institute of Technology, also known as Georgia Tech, here in Atlanta. He had a full ROTC scholarship and was commissioned a lieutenant in the infantry upon graduation. He served one tour in Iraq and was wounded twice. He later volunteered for a tour in Afghanistan where he was seriously wounded and lost his leg. He was awarded the silver star for his actions. Jen was impressed.

Jen figured she was stuck with feeding Prada and walking her. Jonah joined her on the walked but didn’t ask her about going out. Doc was watching a ball game. Actually, because of the pandemic, it was a rerun. Jen couldn’t get Navada out of her mind. It was one of those ‘coulda, shoulda, woulda’ situations. She decided that if she had sex with Doc and Jonah simultaneously that night, she’d forget about Navada. It was not the first time she lied to herself.

The following is another excerpt from my work in progress, The Throuple Private Eye—Business is Booming, a Jen McDowell Series. This is the second draft. I’m at 40k words now. If you want to catch up, order the novella The Throuple Private Eye—Hate Crimes, on Amazon ($2.99). The link is https://www.amazon.com/dp/B084LTTHGN. Enjoy

CHAPTER 10
 
On Friday, Jen and Molly worked all day inside their office, doing research on their computers.
 
Finally, late in the afternoon, Molly stood up and said, “Let’s go out. We need to unwind.”
 
Jen looked up. “Okay, I’ll see if the boys want to come.”

“No,” Molly said. “Girls night out. Just you and me.”

“And do what?” Jen asked.

“Well, it’s Friday. My VFW post has an all you can eat fish fry every Friday and also a country band. For an extra $2 you can add shrimp.”

“I don’t know,” Jen replied. “Do you want tom hang out with a bunch of old folks?”

“Wait a minute,” Molly cautioned. “I hang out there. On Fridays, the older vets come for the fish. The young vets come for the band and to dance. Besides, most of the fish is take out.”

“How do they have a dance during the pandemic?” Jen asked.

“Well, they can only allow a certain number of guests inside, something like 25 or 50 percent,” Molly answered. “Then in a large room they placed marks six feet apart in rows. They only allow line dancing, and everyone stays follows social distancing and wears masks.”

“I haven’t tried dancing in my prothesis yet,” Jen said. “I don’t know if I can.”

“We don’t have to dance,” Molly suggested. “We can listen to the music and drink beer. Besides, we can watch some of those young guys dance. Some of them are hot.”

Jen finally relented and volunteered to drive. Jen decided that Molly was right; some of the guys were hot, the band was good, and the beer was cold. The fish was white fish, bit there was plenty of it. After an hour, a guy walked over to Molly. “Hello, my name is Marty Hennessey. Would you like to dance?” he asked through his facemask.

Molly shook her and pulled up her pant legs to reveal her two protheses. Marty pulled up his to reveal a major protheses on his left leg, extending down from just below his hip.

“Okay,” Molly conceded. “You got me beat, but I haven’t danced since I got these.”

“No problem,” Marty answered. “I’ll show you how.”

“No, no, no,” protested Molly. “I don’t think so.”

Marty bend down and leaned on the table. “What was your rank when you got discharged from the military?”

Molly was taken back by the question. “I was a staff sergeant.”

Marty straightened up. “Well, I was a captain and I’m giving you a direct order to get your ass out on the dance floor, sergeant.” Reluctantly, Molly stood up. Marty half led and half pulled Molly to the dance floor. All the dances were line dances, and Molly struggled to keep up. She did stubble a couple of times, but Marty caught her. Jen was certain the last fall was fake. Marty stood behind Molly and held her waist to steady her. Molly moved his arms tighter around her. After a few minutes, Molly mastered the steps without falling. No one objected to them not social distancing since several other couples did the same.

As the next line dance started, Molly and Marty walked and pulled a protesting Jen onto the dance floor. Molly stood on one side holding Jen’s hand while Marty held her other hand. It was awkward at first, but soon Jen was keeping up without falling. Once she got the hang of it, she resumed social distancing. After a few dances, Jen headed back to her table, turning down a couple of offers to dance on the way.

When the band took a break, Molly walked over to Jen. “Don’t worry about driving me home. Marty said he’d give me a ride.” She winked at Jen. “I might go over to his place for a nightcap.”
Jen sternly asked, “Molly do your panties fall off every time you meet a good-looking guy?”
Molly smiled. “What panties?”

Jen laughed. “Sorry, for a minute I forgot who I was talking to. Okay, but send me a text or call so I’ll know where to go to claim the body.”

Marty walked over with another young man. “Ladies, this Navada Lucas, my best friend. He still has both legs, but he’s okay.” Marty made introductions all around. Jen took an instant liking to Navada. She could tell he had a sense of humor. He had drawn a set of lips on his facemask, but they were a woman’s lips—bright red. The four of them danced a few more times.

Finally, Jen said, “Folks, I’m not use to this, and my legs are killing me, so I need to sit down.”

The following is another excerpt from my work in progress, The Throuple Private Eye—Business is Booming, a Jen McDowell Series. This is the second draft. I’m at 40k words now. If you want to catch up, order the novella The Throuple Private Eye—Hate Crimes, on Amazon ($2.99). The link is https://www.amazon.com/dp/B084LTTHGN. I found a major error in Chapter 9 and had to rewrite it. Here it is:

CHAPTER 9

The next day, Jen got a call from Special Agent Malcolm Andrews. He had worked with Jen when she infiltrated the hate group, The High Priests of Phinehas. “I want to talk with you about finding out who put out the contracts on you and Molly,” he said.

“How do we do that?” Jen asked. “Pete said he couldn’t trace the contract.”

“That’s partially true,” Malcolm answered. “When someone shows POD that the hit was made, we can trace the payment.”

“What’s POD mean?” Jen asked.

“Normally it means Payable on Death, but in this case it means Proof of Death,” Malcolm answered.
“So, when Molly and I are killed, you’ll be able to arrest our killers?”

Malcolm laughed. “Something like that. We want to fake your deaths and show POD so whoever put out the contract will pay us. Then we can trace it and make the arrest.”

“So, you want to kill us?”

Malcolm laughed again. “Yeah. It must look real. POD is a photograph and or a newspaper article. Easy-peasy.”

“Okay,” Jen said. “Let’s do it.”

A few days later, Malcolm came to Jen’s home to discuss the details of the fake assassination. The FBI would us Ms. Camille Kousoulas, an FBI makeup expert, to create real looking wounds on Jen and Molly. Cam, the name she prefers, worked with Jen when she went undercover as an old woman. The FBI would create a video that looks like a security video from a front door. They would release the video and photographs to the local newspapers. Once the hit is on the news, Pete can go on the dark web to complete the deal. Once the payment is made, the FBI can figure out who set the contract.

A few days later, Cam came over and made masks of Jen and Molly. A week later, Agent Malcolm came over with the video. The FBI used professional actors. The video appeared to be from a door security camera. Malcolm explained that the FBI would release the video to the press who would then air it on the news. The video showed a car parked at a curb when a gunman walked up and fired four shots through the window. The gunman wore a hoodie and a mask making it difficult to recognize him.

The plan was simple enough. The FBI would stage then shooting. An agent dressed like the gunman would fire four shots into the driver side window and then escape. Someone, anyone would call 911 and the police would come along with an ambulance. An anonymous tip would bring the news. The ambulance would be manned by FBI agents. They would remove the two dummies that look very much like Jen and Molly with serious head wounds. The FBI would provide the video to the news stations. The shooting would make the morning news. This would provide the proof of death needed to fulfil the contracts.

The FBI would then send in the video copied from the news along with a newspaper clipping to the dark web under a fictious name to claim the contract. The FBI put Jen and Molly in a safehouse until the sting was over. It didn’t take long.

After a couple of days, Malcolm called Jen at the safehouse. “We got him,” Malcolm said.

“What? So soon?” Jen asked. “Who was it?”

“His name is William Pasternak,” Malcom answered. “Does that name ring a bell?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Jen answered.

“You probably knew him as Speer McGarry,” Malcolm suggested.

“Oh, yeah,” Jen replied. “He was the computer geek at the alt-right boot camp. He was into ID theft and fraud, I believe. I thought he was already in prison.”

“He was out on bail waiting his trial,” Malcolm answered. “He put out the contracts on you and Molly. It figures. He wasn’t the type to get his hands dirty. He had to hire someone.”

Jen and Molly left the safe house and returned to their office in Jen’s house. The next day Jen and Molly went to the police station to work with a sketch artist to see if they could come up with a picture of the driver who forced them into the pond. 

I read an article from the Motley Fool written by Maurie Backman. She wrote about the three mistakes you might make during your working years that will haunt you in retirement. She listed: thinking you'll fall back on Social Security, not saving from an early age and playing it safe with investments. Now I’m no financial wiz, but I think she missed the mark by a long shot. Here some regrets she didn’t mention:

Loaning money to your brother-in-law.
Not paying off your debt to a loan shark.
Sending money to some guy in Nigeria.
Not having a prenup with your first wife.
Not paying your taxes.
Betting your nest egg on a hot tip at the racetrack.
Taking all your money out of Apple and investing in Eastern Airlines stock.
Throwing away the winning lottery ticket before checking the numbers.
Starting as an Uber driver with a rickshaw.
Stealing the identity of a person on the FBI ten most wanted list.
​
I’m sure there are many more regrets, but time and space doesn’t permit me to list them all.

The following is another excerpt from my work in progress, The Throuple Private Eye—Business is Booming, a Jen McDowell Series. This is the second draft. I’m at 40k words now. If you want to catch up, order the novella The Throuple Private Eye—Hate Crimes, on Amazon ($2.99). The link is https://www.amazon.com/dp/B084LTTHGN. I made few changes to Chapter 8 for this second draft. Enjoy.

CHAPTER 8  (Cont.)
 
Jen immediately called Molly to let her know what she had learned from Pervert Pete. “So that rattle snack wasn’t a prank?”
 
“I think not,” Jen answered.
 
The next day Jen and Molly pulled into the driveway in a rented car. Jen took out her house keys and opened her door. “Shit,” she said.

“What happened?” Molly asked.

“I dropped my keys on the floor.” Just as Jen bent down to retrieve her keys, a bullet smashed the rear window, passed over her head by inches and exited out the front windshield. Both women ducked down as far as possible as a second bullet whizzed through the car, sending glass flying over the two.

“Who the fuck is shooting?” Molly yelled.

“The hell if I know,” Jen answered. “We need to get out of the car and into the house.”

“How fast can you run in prosthetics?” Molly asked without waiting for an answer. “I’m not moving until the police show up. Molly pulled out her cellphone and tried to dial. Her hands shook so much that she missed dialed twice. Jen grabbed the phone out of her hands and dialed 911.

The police arrived quickly, one patrol car followed a few minutes later by three more. One of them was Johan. They searched the neighborhood and once satisfied that the danger had passed, escorted shaking Jen and Molly inside the house. The incident triggered Molly’s PTSD. Jen held her tight and tried in vain to calm her down. It took nearly thirty minutes.

“Okay, this time the attacker was more professional,” Johan said. “We find the spot from where he fired. It was a roof top of a house that is for sale. It was nearly four hundred yards. Probably a high-powered rifle with a scope. The sniper picked up his brass, so we don’t know the caliber. We’ll know more when we find the bullet.”

When things quieted down, Molly told Jen, “I’m going to get a gun.”

“Molly, you have PTSD,” replied Jen. “You can’t legally buy a gun.”

“I know a guy,” Molly said.

The next day, an old pickup truck drove into the driveway. Hoyt Goodrich, the commander of The High Priests of Phinehas, a violent hate group, and the ex-lover of Molly, stepped out holding a small box. Jen saw him in their security monitor. “This is the guy you called?” she said to Molly.
Molly stood up and grabbed her cane. “Hell, yeah. I knew he could help me get an unregistered weapon.”

“Molly, it’s illegal,” Jen protested. “We could lose our license.”

“Shut up,” Molly snapped as she headed for the front door. “You’ve got one.”

Jen did shut up. Molly was right. In spite of the law and the protests of her boyfriends, she did have a gun. She opened her top desk drawer and pulled out the .38 and followed Molly. At least, she could have Molly’s back.

Hoyt didn’t come toward the front door. He just stood by his truck. Molly approached him. “Is that it?” she asked as she pointed at the small box in Hoyt’s hand.

“Yeah. The serial number has been filed off, and it hasn’t been used in a crime. It’s clean.”

Molly took the box and opened it, revealing a pistol. “A Glock 9mm. You couldn’t get a10mm automatic?”

Hoyt shook his head. “come on, Molly. I’m risking my parole as it is.”

“I know,” Molly said. “Thanks. I owe you one.” She kissed Hoyt on the cheek. Then she kissed him again on the lips. “I missed you, you know.”

“Yeah, I missed you too,” Hoyt said. “It wasn’t all bad, you know. Even though you did lie and used me.”

Molly chuckled. “I did. Then I was nearly killed.”

“I know,” Hoyt replied. “I felt really bad about that. I tried to find the Symths after what they did. I would have killed them.”

Molly smiled. “All things considered: the sex was great.”

Hoyt laughed. “It was that.”

Molly stared into Hoyt’s eyes and then reached out and touched his arm. Jen was watching from the front porch and came flying off into the front yard. “No, no, no,” she yelled. She reached the two and pulled Molly back. “We’re not going through this again,” she yelled at Hoyt. “You get out of my year or I’ll call the police. You shouldn’t be doing this. You’re a felon.”

Hoyt held up his hand in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m going.”

At that moment, Jen realized that she had been waving her own illegal gun at Hoyt. She looked around and saw her neighbor across the street looking out her window. As Hoyt drove off, she grabbed Molly by the elbow and led her toward the house. “What the hell were you thinking?” she asked Molly.

“Come on, Jen,” Molly answered, “I have had any cock since I got out of the hospital. I thought we could hook up.”
​
“Not with that guy,” Jen replied. “He’s a racist, and you know it.”

​Extinct Creatures from 2020

I read with interest about the animals that are nearly extinct. The article listed the top ten. Lest we forget, there are other things that are either extinct of endangered. Here’s a list:

Honest Politicians. This species isn’t extinct but is considered endangered. It has been spotted on rare occasions. Sometimes reported sightings later proved to be false. Optimistic politician watchers are hoping for a comeback in 2021. They are difficult to capture, because dishonest politicians can lie their way out of most situations making voters believe that they are honest.  

Good Grammar. It’s unclear when this species began to become extinct, but sightings have been few and far between. It’s certainly endangered and may go extinct in 2021.

Misogyny Bosses. This species is most certainly in decline and is endangered even though there are still many out there. They exist in hostile work environments and are considered sexist. They are easily provoked and respond with sexual harassment and sexual assault. They once numbered in the thousands if not the millions. They are being hunted in the wild to extinction. Once in captivity, they appear in court and are soon eliminated. They are considered an invasive species and every attempt is made to eradicate them. They aren’t hard to find because they can’t resist exposing themselves (pun intended).

A Wall with Mexico. The species has not been sighted in 2017 or 2018. Wall watchers predict that there may be one found in 2020, but nothing is certain. What is certain is that Mexico won’t pay for it.

Balanced Budgets. This species is considered extinct at this date. The last one was spotted in 2001. Many budget watchers doubt we will ever see another balanced budget. They don’t survive in captivity and soon die if not cared for properly.

Free Trade. This species was last spotted in 2017 and has not been seen since. Most free trade watchers attribute this to the growth of free trade’s natural predator, tariffs. They are difficult to capture and escape easily.

Civility. Civility isn’t extinct, but it is endangered. The growth of social media has reduced the natural habitat of civility to the point that sighting of civility are becoming rare. It is hoped that it may make a comeback in 2021.

Common Sense. This species is another one that is endangered. While it used to roam across the continent, it is rarely seen in the Washington D.C. area and less frequently in other states.

Conspiracy Theories. This is another invasive species that has experienced unlimited growth. All efforts to eradiate conspiracy theories have usually backfired. The first sighting of this species isn’t known but was sighted with the sinking of the battleship Maine in 1898. This species is now well established and flourishing. Its numbers grew unabated during the Cold War. Subspecies include Watergate, the moon-landing, climate change, vaccinations and UFOs.

Real News. Real news, identified by objective and unbiased journalism, is endangered. It’s difficult to spot real news. It’s cousin, Fake News, is often mistake for Real News, but the two are very different. Real news is also often confused with its cousin, Conspiracy Theories.

Bipartisan Congressional Bills. This species was last spotted in 2017. It hasn’t been seen since and is feared extinct. Its rarity is compounded, because it takes two very different parents to mate in spite of their hatred of each other.

​There are, of course, many other critters that are endangered, but this list should help to identify the most endangered ones.