Four:

One thing I could say about dodging through the shady places of the city to evade CCTV coverage was that it certainly seemed to shave time off your trip. Even if it meant you were risking a plethora of meth-heads and other varied addicts.

My slightly moist look from jogging most of the way back, about fourteen blocks, was hardly the look a girl would have liked to have while meeting a new client. In desperate need of a shower and a change of clothes, I entered the office where Henry smiled up at me from his copy of Cosmo.

“You made the news, again.”

He chirped at me, and I sagged slightly and huffed in annoyance. I was almost certain that Henry was referring to the shooting and not me personally since the CCTV on Bruiser Lane was down, and I took steps to avoid all other coverage all the way back to work, hence my flustered and sticky new look.

“That cop managed to avoid being turned to a lawn ornament?”

My first question surprised Henry since he knew I rarely cared about anyone on the force. Sue me, a hot broad like that, a girl can be forgiven for having a heart! (Or a bag full of hormones, which ever it may be.)

“If by that cop, you mean the dizzyingly sexy redhead on the tube, then yep. I can clearly see why you bothered to step in with her. She is a honey, sugar.”

Henry said, and I scowled at him, and he chuckled and waved me through as if permitting me to go into my own office. As I entered, a woman a few years older than me rose from the seat across from mine. She was tall, almost six-feet-tall. Her curly brown hair was medium length, and her full figure was generous and healthy. Her brown eyes seemed to settle on me with a desperate edge.

“Hey, sorry for the messy look. I just ran all the way back from downtown.”

I said, and she seemed to look at me with a wider gaze still. Unlike most women, I did not abide by the unwritten laws of this city. One of the chief laws amongst those being “never walk alone at night, especially in the middle of downtown.

“You’re Detective Giles?”

She asked in a soft almost mousy tone which was out of place with her height and seeming lingering athletic physique. This woman looked as if she could have played in a ladies' volleyball league. Something beyond the typical cheating troubles seemed to be bothering her. Or so my detective’s instincts seemed to scream out to me. Not to sound all cliché, but detectives truly do require gut intuitions to be excellent at their job. No amount of procedure and textbook performance and investigative methodology could make up for the unspoken glimpses into the human condition. Like a nagging whisper in your soul, telling you when something is truly off with the world or people around you.

“You’re looking at her, sweetheart.”

My tone was mildly sassy, but tender enough to convey my sincere welcome. She appeared to shiver slightly. Someone had done something to truly spook the ghost from this girl. My instinct to protect was firing on all cylinders suddenly.

“Tell me what’s going on so I can help.”

I said, and I knew Henry would never let me forget how much of a softie I am around a traumatized female.

“It’s my husband, I heard him on the phone, he pl pl plans… t to kill me.”

She had my full attention, not the first time I have heard this story, but regardless of how many times I hear it, my red alert always goes up. I planned to ask her detailed and pointed questions, but I did not doubt her honesty at this moment.

“How did you happen to overhear this conversation?”

She looked at me wide-eyed and she sputtered, “He thought, thought I was out with my friends for dinner. But I was laying down in the guest room because I had a stomach bug hit me suddenly.”

She explained, and I nodded, and I passed her and turned the narrow corner on my mahogany wood desk. Henry had insisted we get truly posh furniture, despite ou r impoverish business status.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why come to me and not the Peckford PD? They do take a conspiracy to commit murder very seriously.”

I told her, and her eyes widened, and she shook her head widely.

“You can’t, his brother’s a detective. He’s some type of bigshot in his unit, so he has nearly infinite reach.”

Her fear was too visceral and naked to be feigned. Besides, it was sadly true, cops and their families literally got away with murder on the regular around here. Her fears were justifiable in Peckford. Many other cities in this or any other first-world country might frown upon premeditated murder, but this was a special breed of savage as far as cities went.

“Who do you think he was talking to on the phone?”

I asked, and she teared up and said, “He made two calls, one was clearly his brother, Ronny, and the second one, I did not get his or her name. It was possibly the person he hired because he was talking about arrangements being taken care of, and the money in the bank.”

She told me, and her mood seemed to flare hotter and more manic the more she spoke about the eavesdropped conversations. I reached out and touched her right hand in a gentle assuring gesture.

“Hey, breathe, I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You can take my promise down to the bank, it won’t bounce. I need you to tell me your last name, and as much information about your husband and brother-in-law as you can, so I can piece together what I’m dealing with. Hopefully, he is just hiring a bush-league thug, with no one to worry about. Even if he does go with a legit contractor, I’ve got your back.”

She seemed to eye me; my five-six slender but tone body. She seemed to be wondering what army of grown-ass men I would be bringing with me. The truth was I had no one, aside from Henry. I have been in martial arts since the age of four, and I have been a sharpshooter my entire life since my daddy first began to train me. Add to that my training with the guys and girls on the military bases before I ended up in the foster system, and you have one tough cookie. I’ve only ever let one person get the drop; on me in my entire life, and after that, I’ve never made a single mistake in trusting again. Humans generally seek to exploit a weakness, which is why I work so hard to help those who come my way.

“His name, my name, is Grimshaw. Peter and Ronny Grimshaw. I’m Sally Anne Grimshaw.”

Whistling in my surprise, I squeezed her hand firmly once.

“Well, that’s a big target, but hey I’ve done dumber things in my day. Ron Grimshaw is no joke; however, I know how he thinks and what he might do. Just leave this to me.”

She looked at me with a quivering weak smile.

“You, you mean you’ll take the case? Everyone else I talked to refused to talk after I told them who it was.”

She said, and I had no trouble seeing this as true. I also sighed and deflated myself

“So, how many PI’s did you speak to?”

I asked, and she frowned and said, “Three, why?”

I bit my lip and then I yelled loudly, “Henry, come in here my beautiful man.”

He peaked around the corner and I could not help a slight smirk playing on my lips for a moment. I knew he was bursting at the seams to hear her story.

“We need to shut down the office and go to an SRO. We’re taking this show on the road.”

He nodded and said, “You think one of the other PI’s tipped Ron Grimshaw off about Sally Anne looking for protection?”

My head bobbed in confirmation and I said, “Oh yeah, without a doubt, too many horses are traded in this business for them not to. If I had to guess, they all called him the second their doors clicked.”

She frowned and said, “But why would you have to move?”

Henry sniggered and put in, “Because, everyone would know that Gina is the only detective in this rancid city willing to take on your case.”

She seemed to nod absently and consider this information for a moment.

“If you’re willing to help me, I will do anything, so I don’t end up dead.”

Sally Anne said in a very somber tone. Her voice betrayed her, the unrest and brittle disposition of a woman whose entire life was spinning out. She seemed to want to slip into shock but was somehow managing to remain lucid for the time being. Despite my willingness to jump right into this case, I would still need to do my due diligence on her as a client. A lot of PI’s don’t properly question who they are working for and that can lead to several bad situations. I’ve even seen mobbed-up women hire PI’s to track down witnesses before, so you must dive into the client themselves before you go running down too many blind allies on their behalf.

“All I need from you right now Sally Anne, is a photo ID, just so I can put your info into my system. I promise this is completely safe and anonymous outside my case files. We maintain our client information and confidence with the utmost discretion.”

Sally didn’t even blink before she began to fish into her purse. She pulled out a leather wallet and pried free her ID and handed it over gingerly.

“Here, do you need anything else?”

She asked and I accepted it, and I spun it, scanning it over with my seasoned gaze. The Georgia State Driver’s License was the real deal. It also gave me her address, which was in the east edge of the city, which was not the worst condos in the city, certainly better than a policeman should be able to afford on his salary, not that I’ve looked up the exact details yet. I just happen to know a lot of listing prices in the general area from other cases.

I pulled up my search engine available to anyone who is a licensed investigator, and I typed in Sally’s ID. Immediately, her picture and a thin sheet of details came up. Sally had a very light footprint on the public record, but she appeared to be on the level. A few small google searches also seemed to show her social media and some images of her with friends, most of the pictures seemed a bit dated now. I noticed she did not post anything anymore on any of her media. This seemed to indicate that Sally was withdrawn from her world and her friend. Not at all an uncommon occurrence with abused women. I doubt I’ve even gotten a fraction of the true story about Sally’s marriage from her. My spider-senses were telling me she was likely a battered woman.

Henry could read between the lines, even without the computer in his face. He knew me, and he knew I’d do anything to help a woman whose being victimized. That seems to be my crusade in life.