Rex leaned over to tug at the brim of Viv's baseball cap. "Do you think he can see us?" She squirmed, lowering herself in the passenger seat.
"That's why we're keeping the windows up. They are tinted, but that doesn't mean he hasn't noticed us. We've been hanging out here for two hours. If he realizes we're here he may come closer and confront us. That would blow our cover."
They sat in Rex's SUV across from the offices of Joseph "Joey" Baker. It turned out that his address was in plain sight all along. His face and smile had been painted on bus benches along the main highway. Joey even had a slogan: Everything starts with trust. The signage included a business phone number that appeared underneath his tag line in bold black numbers.
"I hope he comes out soon," Viv said. "I'm getting hungry."
"I believe I mentioned every stakeout requires snacks." Rex handed her an open bag of pretzels.
"Too many carbs. I eat veggies in between meals."
He scoffed. "It's surprising we're partners, you know, with our opposing views on what to eat when."
Viv's eyes grew wide. "Partners?"
"This is our second case. And I am moving forward on the PI license. So yeah, we're partners."
"Neighbors in crime," Viv mused. "I'm not all in. Because it sounds ridiculous. But I hear what you're saying. This is our second case. Fell into our laps. That has some merit."
"Look over there." Rex pointed to a man coming from the building. He wore a dark-colored suit, a tie, and a button-down light gray shirt. Ducking his bald head, he strode across the street. A car came to a screeching halt, barely avoiding him.
"That's him," Viv said.
Joey opened the door to his Mercedes Roadster, slipping behind the wheel.
"Follow that car!" Viv exclaimed.
"Gotta do a U-turn." Rex flicked on the ignition, then made a turn in the middle of the road as horns honked in his wake. "That was close," he said.
Ten minutes later Rex pulled into a space next to the curb, half a block down from where Joey parked in the driveway of a single-story bungalow.
"Is this his house?" Viv asked. "Doesn't seem swanky enough for a guy like him."
"I would agree." Rex flicked the engine off.
"I think these places were built just after the war." Viv looked around to take in the neighborhood.
"Some have been renovated, maybe more than once. But check out the one over there." Rex pointed.
"Single story, adobe construction. Maybe twelve hundred square feet. I actually looked two streets over before I bought my place. My son wanted me to be safe, so he persuaded me to live in a gated community."
"I'm very happy he did," Rex commented.
She changed the subject quickly. "So do you think Joey's a family man?"
"I see no evidence of family from here. No teenage-type vehicles. No basketball hoop on the garage. In fact everything looks perfunctory. As if he was…"
"Single," Viv filled in. "So our guy doesn't have a family. Or maybe he's like you. Not interested in marriage. Or he could be divorced."
When Rex didn't respond, Viv looked over. She caught a sign of discomfort in his face. He pulled on his ear and then glanced into his rearview mirror. "Well look who we have here."
Viv turned her head. A truck lumbered past their SUV. It continued several feet and then parked against the curb. "That's Dean, the sneaker guy," Viv said.
She heard the vehicle beep as Dean walked toward the front door of Joey's house. It opened immediately. Ushered inside, he disappeared from view.
"I wonder what they're talking about?" Rex sighed. "We may be done for now. Unless you want to wait to see who comes out. It could take a while." He glanced at the empty pretzel bag. "Why don't we get some lunch at Just Desserts. I have a hankering for a pastrami on rye."
"I would love a nice chicken salad," Viv agreed.
Before he started the SUV, he stopped to send a text. A quick ping came in response. He read the message to himself as Viv watched without asking any questions.
Finally Rex started the engine and pulled away from the curb.