on my Bluetooth. “Moon Investigations.”
“ Hi,” said the voice of an elderly lady. “I’ve never, you know, called a private investigator before. I’m a little nervous.”
“ We’re just like other people,” I said. “Just a lot cooler.”
“ Oh, ha-ha.” She laughed good-naturedly. “Yes, I’m sure you are.”
I headed up Bastanchury Avenue, which would soon loop me around to the foothills above Yorba Linda. “How can I help you?”
“ Well, I need some help,” she said, pausing. A pregnant pause. I know pregnant pauses. She had a cheating husband on her hands.
“ You think your husband’s cheating on you,” I said, gunning the minivan and just making it through a yellow light.
“ How-how did you know?”
“ Call it a hunch,” I said. Actually, these days I didn’t know what to call it. My old hunches and my powerful new sixth sense had fused into one. Hunch or not, I wasn’t in the mood for another cheating spouse case. In fact, I could barely stomach them these days. I said, “I’m sorry to hear about your husband, but I’m a little booked right now. I know of a great detective out of Huntington Beach. Actually, don’t let him know that I said that, since he’s already got a big head—”
“ No. Please. Please, I want a woman to help me. Only a woman.” She took in a lot of air while I came to a stop at a red light. I was the only one sitting at the intersection. So who was I waiting for? She went on, “I’m kind of down on men right now, if you know what I mean.”
Actually, I did. I had gone through a similar reaction with my ex-husband, Danny. In fact, I even recalled writing to Fang that I hated all men.
I said, “I’m sure there are other female private investigators who would be more than happy—”
“ There aren’t. I’ve looked. You’re the only one in the Yellow Pages. At least, the only one with a woman’s name.”
The light turned green. Kingsley was waiting for me with a chilled glass of the red stuff. I hadn’t eaten in two days. I was ravenous and I was cranky. I said, “Let me be blunt: My own husband cheated on me not long ago. The very thought of working on another cheating spouse case turns my stomach. I’m just not the right person for this.”
“ I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“ Thank you,” I said.
I could almost see her frowning. Hell, maybe I could see her frowning. In fact, the woman in my thoughts had a thick head of curly red hair. She looked a bit like Lucille Ball in her dotage. Then again, that could have all just been my imagination. And I’ve always loved Lucille Ball.
“ Well, thank you anyway,” she said. “I will keep looking.”
The pain in her voice found its way straight to my heart. Normally, such pain didn’t register very deeply. After all, I spend half my time hearing heart-breaking stories. But this woman’s pain reached me somehow. Perhaps because I had seen her in my thoughts. Or perhaps because she reminded me of Lucille Ball. Either way, I couldn’t let her hang up just yet.
“ Wait,” I said. “Let me give you some advice. Ninety-five percent of the people who come to me with concerns of spousal misconduct are right.”
“ So, you’re saying that more than likely he is cheating?”
“ I’m saying that more than likely your instincts are spot on.”
In my mind I could almost see her closing her eyes and nodding, her red, curly hair bouncing. “I see. Well, that’s not good enough for me, Miss Moon. I need to know. I need to know for sure.” There was a long pause and I could tell she was crying. “I won’t trouble you any—”
“ Wait,” I said again, truly hating myself for what I was about to say next. I had a big case I was unofficially working with Detective Sherbet of the Fullerton P.D. and it was getting dangerous. I had stumbled across another victim of the “Orange County Stalker” that was only minutes old—the body still warm with blood pooling under the corpse. I had
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