Spike Nails: Private Eye
Episode Two: The Sister
As I watched him leave, Zack, musing over his notes asked me, "Do you think he’s telling the truth?"
"That load of hogwash? I think he’s looking for something more specific, and I plan on finding out what."
"What do you want me doing?"
"See what you can dig up on," I looked at his notes and pointed to the relevant names. He melted out of the room to get to work, and left me to mull over the situation. I knew something lurked beneath the surface of the problem.
Something always lurked. I decided to go visit my sister. She seemed like someone who thought she knew all the answers.
"Zack, check out our new employer while you’re at it. I want to know if there’s anything screwy in his
background." He got the message, and with an earnest look he just nodded his head.
I took a cab to the my sister's place, considering I had nothing to go on, I figured it was worth the expense! She lived in a brick apartment, a third floor flat with no elevator. I wished for a drink long before I reached the top. I knocked on her door, twice, before she answered. She pulled open the door part way and stuck her head out.
"Oh, it's you," she said, sounding annoyed.
"I’m here on business."
Her face darkened, "You've got business?"
"Yes," I said and pushed the door in a little. "Mind if I come in?"
She looked indignant, but only said, "Sure, help yourself." I looked at her; we hadn't always gotten along. She was a tall, long legged blonde. Or as I remembered it she was, underneath those jeans that looked two sizes to big and a T-shirt that looked two sizes too small that proclaimed "Elvis Needs
Tubas". On the other hand, I am short, hence my spiked heels and nickname. I told her about Frank.
"Daddy says never trust a man," she commented, pulling her bare feet up into her seat. She giggled as she added, "He says guys always know ‘You’re
naked under your clothes.’"
"If I always listened to
daddy I’d never go out at all." I replied.
"How are you expecting me to help you?" she asked.
"I know you are into all that deep poetry and stuff. I was hoping you'd have some idea of where I could start. Besides, we get to have this chat on Frank's bill!"
"Well," she practically ran to another room. I waited for her, pulling a smoke out of my deck of Marlboros while I waited.
She came back with a notebook and spread it open on her coffee table.
"Do you have something to write with and some paper?" She looked around her apartment, but there wasn’t any paper in sight. I shook my head, negative. She disappeared into her kitchen and came back with a bit of
paper bag and the stub of a pencil. She shrugged, and set to work copying some addresses out of her address book. After she had handed it to me, and I had shoved it in my pocket, she turned to the notebook on the coffee table.
"This is a collection of 'stuff' written by people, quoted by people and filled in by anyone. You might find some interesting information here. It's at least a place to start. The names I gave you are of some people I know who at least think they have the answer. You might talk to them."
"Mind if I borrow this?" I picked up and hefted the notebook.
"Sure, go ahead."
I headed for the door. Once I was outside I looked down at the notebook she had given me...
TO BE CONTINUED...
Back to Top
 |
| You are Gonzo!
You're a bit loopy, and many people have trouble figuring out exactly what you're supposed to be. You take pride in your eccentricity and originality. | |
|
Last revised: May 2, 2002