Bob Moats - Jim Richards 01-03- 3 for Murder Box Set (43 page)

The next morning we had our baggage all loaded in the SUV and drove over to Maria’s where we were going to meet everyone. Buck was saying his good-byes to Maria, and then Maria turned to Lynn and said she was glad that Lynn made Deacon happy and welcomed her to the family. Deacon smiled at me and put their bags in the car along with Buck’s. Deacon told Maria that they would be back in a week or so and would see her then.

I told Maria that she should stay away from energy drinks. She laughed. We drove down the strip one last time and got over to Russell Road and into McCarran, then over to the car rental. They took away our luggage, and we got the golf cart ride back to the commercial hangers. Our pilot and flight attendant were waiting. They greeted us and got us all seated and comfortable.

The plane taxied out to the runway as I watched the beautiful towers of the strip going by my window. We accelerated down the runway and up into the sky. I looked over to Deacon to see if he was all right. He was holding Lynn’s hand and smiling. I guess he didn’t need to think of me and cats anymore.

The End.

For every ending, there’s a new beginning…

Dominatrix Murders by Bob Moats

EBook Edition

Copyright © 2009-2012 by Bob Moats.

Cover design by Bob Moats

This book has been re-edited as of Sept 9, 2012

By Bob Moats

Chapter One

The paint hadn’t even dried yet on the door lettering when she opened the door and stood admiring the name, “Jim Richards, Private Investigations.” She looked to me, gave me a million dollar smile, and slinked to the chair at my desk where she seated herself, slowly crossing a pair of legs that screamed, lick me. She flipped back a shock of blonde hair from her gorgeous face and looked at me with eyes so deep, I was lost in them, then she called my name.

“Mr. Richards,” she said in a sultry voice, then paused. Then said again, “Mr. Richards, I want my husband killed.”

I suddenly came out of my daydream, staring at a frumpily dressed, middle-aged, mousy, brown-haired woman who stared back at me through glasses thick as bottle bottoms. I said, “Excuse me, you want your husband killed?”

“What? Oh, my goodness, no! I said I want him tailed, or followed, whatever you P.I.s call it,” she exclaimed.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I’m a bit jet lagged from a flight back from Las Vegas,” I lied.

It had been about five weeks since we got back from Vegas, and I spent the first week helping Deacon and Lynn pack his belongings to move back to Vegas. I would miss him. We had become good friends when we met during the classmate murders. He had been the cop assigned as protection for Penny, my girlfriend. Now he was really happy being with Lynn, the detective he met and fell in love with in Las Vegas. I wished him well. I also envied the hell out of him for moving to Vegas.

As soon as we got back to Detroit, Penny helped me find an office to work my P.I. business out of, got it supplied and I opened up shop. I still had a good deal of money left over from the check Penny’s TV station gave me for working as her bodyguard in Vegas, so I was able to advertise and wait for the clients to come streaming in. After about a week of no streaming, Mrs. Flagg was my first customer, not the sexy blonde needing protection from a crazed stalker, just a quiet housewife needing closure.

“OK, why do you want me to follow him?” I asked, figuring he was probably trying to stay away from her.

“I think he’s having an affair. He’s not himself anymore, distant from me, not as affectionate as he used to be,” she said. She teared up, so I moved a box of tissues over to her. She took one and thanked me.

She continued, “We’ve been married for almost three years, and they have been good years, but in the last few months, Ralph, that’s his name, has started to act different.”

“How so?” I asked.

“Well, our sex activities have diminished to a point where we only do it once every other day. It used to be a daily affair.” She smiled.

I didn’t really want to hear that, imagining having sex with this woman. I asked, “Do you feel he is cheating on you?”

“I don’t know, but yesterday I was going to do laundry and was gathering his clothes. I saw his gym bag and checked it and found a pair of leather shorts, something he’s never shown me before. I don’t know what to make of it, but I sense he may be straying.” She looked away from me, as though wanting to say more.

“Is there more you want to say, Mrs. Flagg?” I asked.

“Please call me Elma,” she offered. Then paused, thinking of how she wanted to continue.

“Well, our love making has gotten a bit more, well, rough. He has been wanting me to tie him to the bed lately, and asking me to do things to him I’ve never done before. Spanking, things like that,” she said and went quiet.

My brain was slowly melting from the image of being in bed with this woman. “Well, if I could get some information from you, I can do a cursory investigation to see if there is more to his strange behavior.” I worded my intentions carefully.

“I just want him followed for a few days to see what he’s been up to. He has been away from home a lot lately, which is why our sex has diminished. He comes home acting happy and then he just goes to bed. It’s not like him.”

“OK, write down everything I need to know about him, full name, address, place of work, gym he may go to, things like that.” I handed her a pad and pencil and she started to write. After about ten minutes, she handed me a full page of more info than I needed, but it might help. I handed her a printed list of my charges. “Now, this card has my fees on it. You decide how you want me to handle this, and that will be my charge.”

She looked at the card and said the full investigation would be fine, she had money to spend, and she was rather wealthy. She took out a wad of cash, peeled off a couple of hundred dollar bills, and set them on my desk. “Here’s the advance,” she said.

I said I thought I had all the information I needed and would be in touch with her in a few days with anything I could find. She reached into her purse and pulled out a wallet size picture of a very handsome man, handed it to me and said it was her husband. I asked if I could keep it, and she said yes. I was marveling at how this good-looking guy could have hooked up with this woman, but she said she was rich, could be a reason for marriage. She thanked me and left.

I sat back in my creaky desk chair, mulling over what Ralph could be up to. Leather pants, rough sex, spanking, sounds like the boy was getting into kink. I looked at the paper she wrote out for me, down the list of places he frequented, then back to the picture again. I was feeling like this woman might be in for a big disappointment.

My door opened again and I looked up hoping it was the sultry blonde. Unfortunately it was Trapper. He looked at the new door lettering, then looked around my tiny, and empty, office and said, “Well, I was expecting a room full of angry wives looking to catch their husbands in flagrant activities.” He grinned.

“Only one so far, and she just left,” I lamented.

“Talking about that near blind woman who almost ran into me?” He grinned.

“Yep, husband is now into leather shorts and rough sex.”

“Sex with her, eww.” He shivered.

I showed him the picture and said, “Yeah, imagine that and him.”

“What’s she got, money or a hot body under all those baggy clothes?”

“Money, she says she’s got enough to afford me.” I laughed.

“Getting many clients yet?” he asked.

“She’s the first. Hope it isn’t going to be this slow starting off.”

“Well, if it helps, I can send a few customers your way. We get a number of housewives who all think their husbands are cheating on them. We tell them it’s not a crime to stray, so we can’t help them. I’ll be sure to let them know you’re available,” he said.

“I appreciate that. Have you heard anything from Deacon?” I wondered.

“I got a call from my old buddy Weber, asking if I recommended him for a job in Vegas Metro police. I said that he was the laziest, most incompetent goof off I ever had on my squad, but he’d be crazy not to hire him.” He smiled.

“You did know he was faking that limp from his hip?” I asked.

“Of course I did. I saw him dancing around the squad room one day. I was going to call him on it, but what the hell, he deserved a little time off.”

I had grown to like Trapper. As a cop he was good, as a person he was better.

“If it helps, I know a couple of lawyers who occasionally need a P.I. to do some leg work for them. Interested?” he asked.

“I’m not crazy about lawyers, but I wouldn’t turn the work down,” I replied.

“That’s good, because I have a lawyer friend who has a touchy case that he needs some evidence gathered. It’s out of my jurisdiction, and he doesn’t want to involve cops elsewhere. Interested?”

“If you do me a favor, I might be.” I grinned.

“Do I have to kill anyone?” He smiled.

“Nope, just run a background check on Medusa’s husband,” I requested.

He laughed and said, “Deal.” He took a card out of his jacket and handed it to me. “Mark said to call him, if you take the case.”

“You were sure of yourself, weren’t you?” I said.

He looked around the empty room and said it was a good bet. I made a copy of Flagg’s info and gave it to him.

“It seems every P.I. on TV or in books has a cop on the inside. Looks like I’m yours,” he said with a wink.

“Oh, well, I start at the bottom and work my way up.” I grinned.

He laughed and headed for the door. “Remember, this isn’t Las Vegas. There’s no glamour here.”

I said I was going to put up flashing lights around my door to make me feel like I was still in Vegas. He smiled and went out the door without saying good-bye. He did that a lot. I sat for a moment looking at my door, trying to remember where I put that flashing light rope from Christmas. What the hell, I just might do it.

*

Chapter Two

I called Mark Benson, attorney at law, and introduced myself. I said that Will Trapper said he might need some help with a case. Mark thanked me for calling and asked if I could come to his office tomorrow so he could show me what he needed. I said I could make it. We agreed on 1 p.m., and I said I’d be there. I hung up, put the appointment in my Palm, and then looked at Ralph Flagg’s information again, wondering where to start. I decided to see what Trapper came up with on the background check before I ventured out. I straightened my office for the hundredth time, and decided to call it a day.

My office was in a small professional building in Fraser that had cheap rent. Otherwise, it would be more than half-empty. I went out to my faithful ‘89 Crown Vic and drove up Garfield Road to 15 mile Road, and then out to Jefferson Avenue. I pulled into Penny’s drive and parked on the side of the garage, then went in but didn’t see Penny right away. I called to her. No answer. I went to the back enclosed porch and looked out. I could see her sitting on the small boat dock for a boat we didn’t have. I walked down to the water and she turned to me and smiled.

“Hi, sweetie, home from a hard day investigating?” she said. I sat next to her.

“Yep, I racked my brain trying to come up with things to do. I played about 30 Sudoku games on my Palm. I’m up to twenty minutes per puzzle now.” I grinned. “But I do have two cases now,” I said proudly.

“Wow, what adventures are you going on?” She beamed. “Murder, kidnapping, drugs, or chasing bad husbands?”

“Chasing a husband in leather shorts,” I replied. She looked puzzled. I explained my visit with Elma Flagg, Ralph’s wife. Then I told her about Trapper throwing a case my way for a lawyer friend of his.

“Ah, a lawyer. You really going to take it?” she said, knowing I disliked them.

“It’s a paying gig, so I’ll put up with it. How was your show today?” I asked.

“I had two women on who were teaching wives to spice up their marriage with a little bondage and some light S&M.” She grinned.

I stared for a second and said, “You’re kidding? Did you TiVo it so I can see it?”

“Yes, I did, as you know I do every day, Mr. Smart P.I. Why? Are you into bondage now?”

“Well, as I said, my client thinks her husband is getting into some weird areas now, so I need to be informed about the subject,” I explained. “Did they talk leather and whips?”

“You’ll have to watch the show to see, I’m not going to explain things twice to you.” She smiled.

“What ever happened to that stripper pole you wanted for the house?” I asked, changing the subject.

She just smiled and said, “It’s on order. I’m going to book a stripper on the show who teaches women to work the pole for exercise and the fun of it.”