out.
Chapter Eighteen
I mailed my bill to Mr. Softee that afternoon. I spent the next three days working on the phone attempting to confirm resume facts for a legal firm. It was dull work, but allowed me to sleep late, wear sweatpants, drink a few beers, and overcharge my client. I’d been doing just that, drinking beer, wearing sweatpants and in general being worthless when the phone rang waking me up.
“Yello,” is how it came out , I had a beer burp at the same time.
“Oh, I think I might have the wrong number . I was trying to reach Haskell Investigations,” a female voice said.
“You got me,” I replied, coming awake and stretching on the couch. It was about two in the afternoon and researching statements on resumes had lost its luster days earlier.
“Dev?”
“Yeah, who’s this?”
“Jill . Jill Lydell.”
It took me a moment . I’d never gotten her last name and the send off she’d given me in front of the Giant Scoop the morning after the fire hadn’t left me with a lot of hope for future contact.
“Oh y eah, Jill, nice to hear from you. How are things going?”
“Okay , I guess. You know, everything considered. I was wondering if maybe we could get together and I first of all wanted to say I’m really, really sorry for the way I act…”
“Forget it, you were a lot better than I could ever hope to be under the circumstances . Just for the record, I’m not working for Mister Softee. I had a contract with the guy that didn’t last twenty-four hours.”
“No surprise there,” she said.
“Look, I’d love to get together . I’m finishing up an investigation right now,” I said placing a can of warm beer on the floor and sitting up on the couch.
“What’s your schedule like?” she asked.
“Schedule ? Well, nothing I can’t adjust. What did you have in mind?”
“T he sooner the better. Would tonight work?”
“It could . You tell me where and when, I’ll rearrange things.”
“Well tonight, if that’s not too soon. You know the Sportsman’s Bar?”
“I do.”
I’d been kicked out of there years back for being underage.
“Say seven thirty?”
“See you there.”
Chapter Nineteen
I was on time for a change, and Jill was waiting for me in a back booth looking a lot better than the last time I saw her.
She waved as I approached . She tilted her head so I could kiss her cheek, and I caught a hint of her perfume, nice.
“Thanks for coming . Get you something?” she asked. A waitress was right on my heels.
“ Leinenkugel for me,” I said and looked over at Jill.
“I’d have anot her one of these,” she held out a glass that looked to be a Coke.
“Okay, so tell me where you ’re at. What are your plans with the business?” I asked.
“Well, everyone has been really great. The neighborhood is holding a fund-raiser for us next Saturday, you oughta come. Obviously the biggest thing is getting some new vehicles, but they are so expensive. We’ll just have to see. To tell you the truth, it’s looking like the rest of this year might be an absolute wash. I mean once it gets cold, you can forget about sales you know. We’re doing a stand at the Farmer’s Market. They let us in ahead of all sorts of people because of the fire. That’s going okay, but it’s just Saturday and Sunday. Still, any little bit helps.”
“Any w ord from your insurance company? You were a little worried about that when we talked.”
“Yeah, look , I want to apologize, I was really upset and…”
“No need . I get it. Like I said, I think you handled things a lot better than I would have done.”
Our drinks arrived, I took a long sip while Jill continued.
“Yeah, but you got my explosion and you didn’t deserve it. You said on the phone you’re not working for Mister Softee anymore?”
I shook my head in disgust.
“No, man , imagine one of my clients acting strange. Go figure. They signed a contract with me one night, then said they didn’t need
Chapter Eighteen
I mailed my bill to Mr. Softee that afternoon. I spent the next three days working on the phone attempting to confirm resume facts for a legal firm. It was dull work, but allowed me to sleep late, wear sweatpants, drink a few beers, and overcharge my client. I’d been doing just that, drinking beer, wearing sweatpants and in general being worthless when the phone rang waking me up.
“Yello,” is how it came out , I had a beer burp at the same time.
“Oh, I think I might have the wrong number . I was trying to reach Haskell Investigations,” a female voice said.
“You got me,” I replied, coming awake and stretching on the couch. It was about two in the afternoon and researching statements on resumes had lost its luster days earlier.
“Dev?”
“Yeah, who’s this?”
“Jill . Jill Lydell.”
It took me a moment . I’d never gotten her last name and the send off she’d given me in front of the Giant Scoop the morning after the fire hadn’t left me with a lot of hope for future contact.
“Oh y eah, Jill, nice to hear from you. How are things going?”
“Okay , I guess. You know, everything considered. I was wondering if maybe we could get together and I first of all wanted to say I’m really, really sorry for the way I act…”
“Forget it, you were a lot better than I could ever hope to be under the circumstances . Just for the record, I’m not working for Mister Softee. I had a contract with the guy that didn’t last twenty-four hours.”
“No surprise there,” she said.
“Look, I’d love to get together . I’m finishing up an investigation right now,” I said placing a can of warm beer on the floor and sitting up on the couch.
“What’s your schedule like?” she asked.
“Schedule ? Well, nothing I can’t adjust. What did you have in mind?”
“T he sooner the better. Would tonight work?”
“It could . You tell me where and when, I’ll rearrange things.”
“Well tonight, if that’s not too soon. You know the Sportsman’s Bar?”
“I do.”
I’d been kicked out of there years back for being underage.
“Say seven thirty?”
“See you there.”
Chapter Nineteen
I was on time for a change, and Jill was waiting for me in a back booth looking a lot better than the last time I saw her.
She waved as I approached . She tilted her head so I could kiss her cheek, and I caught a hint of her perfume, nice.
“Thanks for coming . Get you something?” she asked. A waitress was right on my heels.
“ Leinenkugel for me,” I said and looked over at Jill.
“I’d have anot her one of these,” she held out a glass that looked to be a Coke.
“Okay, so tell me where you ’re at. What are your plans with the business?” I asked.
“Well, everyone has been really great. The neighborhood is holding a fund-raiser for us next Saturday, you oughta come. Obviously the biggest thing is getting some new vehicles, but they are so expensive. We’ll just have to see. To tell you the truth, it’s looking like the rest of this year might be an absolute wash. I mean once it gets cold, you can forget about sales you know. We’re doing a stand at the Farmer’s Market. They let us in ahead of all sorts of people because of the fire. That’s going okay, but it’s just Saturday and Sunday. Still, any little bit helps.”
“Any w ord from your insurance company? You were a little worried about that when we talked.”
“Yeah, look , I want to apologize, I was really upset and…”
“No need . I get it. Like I said, I think you handled things a lot better than I would have done.”
Our drinks arrived, I took a long sip while Jill continued.
“Yeah, but you got my explosion and you didn’t deserve it. You said on the phone you’re not working for Mister Softee anymore?”
I shook my head in disgust.
“No, man , imagine one of my clients acting strange. Go figure. They signed a contract with me one night, then said they didn’t need
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