DISCLAIMER: The names in this story have been changed to protect the innocent, the guilty, the neutral-based, the bystanders, those caught in the middle, the shooter, the bum down the road, the cleintel, the dead, the living, the undead, the vampire I keep in my closet, my imaginary friend, the next door neighbor, but most importantly, to protect you the reader.
It was a quiet day in the homestead. Well, technically it was the office, but I'd finally gotten kicked out of my other home, so a bed in my office made it my new home.
But that was past. On this hot and sweaty day, I was minding my own business. Just doing some paperwork that had to get filed next week and some other busywork on the computer. But the important thing was I was minding my own business. After all, getting mixed up in other people's business tended to get me in trouble, or shot at, or losing money, or a combination of any of the above.
You see, I'm a private eye, a freelancer, the guy people call in when they've got no one else alive to turn to or too scared of the officials. And while it doesn't pay off the loans, it's what I like to do and so I stick with it.
On this day, a dame came in. Not the usual kind, the kind that seems to eat, sleep, and breathe trouble. Sneakers. She was wearing sneakers. "I hear you can find things," she said. "Depends on what you're looking for, darlin', " I replied. She wasn't bad looking, but no fashion model. I was gonna guess guy problems, but then she blew me away with her next words.
"I want you to find my free time," she said.
I almost splotched the ink. Free time? Who the heck comes to me for something like that. Usually it's a person, or maybe an article of clothing. Worst case, it's a missing pet. Who in their right mind goes looking for something like time? And free time? I had loads of it. Spent most of it down the way grabbing a bite and chatting with old buds.
"Well, darlin', that's one unusual request," I finally said. "You wouldn't happen to be referring to the nickname of someone or something more, tangible?"
"No, I want you to find my free time. See, I've been very busy recently, and I think I've simply misplaced my free time. Time to relax. Time to sleep. Time to even check over my work." She stated. Her eyes looked dead serious, and one thing I've learned in my line of business is eyes rarely ever lie. Unless you're looking at a professional liar, but then you're an idiot for talking to them in the first place without first giving them incentive to tell the truth.
"Well," I said, "I can look into it. You know about my fees, darlin'?"
"Sure. I've got this check for the down payment." she said, pulling a check out of her purse. I held it up to the light, checked it out, it looked legit, and for exactly my startup fee. Looks like the gal was serious.
"I'm gonna need full access to you and your life, within state laws, of course. The moment you hide something from me, I'll find it and reneg on the case. Ya got that?" I said. "Of course, anything to help." She replied, then turned around and left, leaving me with a check in my hand, a reeling mind, and the scent of her perfume hanging in the air.
"Well, looks like it's time to hit the street," I mumbled to myself as I stood up, pocketing the check. First things first. Cash the check. I checked my pockets for all my usual gear. Keys, notepad, a few accessories, and of course Bernie. Good arguer Bernie.
Satisfied, I closed my eyes, collected my thoughts, then exited my little office.
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