t my eyes sliding over to look at her. Barely five foot two, carrying about one hundred and eighty pounds, and forever styling her hair in a bob, Mary had always been a friend. She was a mom-type person, always looking out for others. Calling if you were sick, making a casserole for work dinners, and always having a fresh batch of cookies in her cookie jar at home. She was probably a good five years older than me, and I’d always felt comfortable around her.
Now I didn’t know what to think. She was the exact opposite of Slutty Shirley Finkle, and not the kind of woman I envisioned The Douche going for once our divorce was final.
“Elena didn’t say it was Mary?” he asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“No, she didn’t,” I replied, chewing on my lower lip as I tried to decide how I felt about this new information.
“I was planning to tell you, I promise, and I want you to know that if everything goes well with our living together, I plan to ask Mary to marry me.”
Holy shit. The hits just kept coming…
I swung my gaze to him and asked, “Really?”
“Yes, Delilah, we have a good thing going, and she needs me. That feels good.”
I accepted that jab and turned to go, needing to get out of his office and away from all of the knowing eyes … especially Mary’s.
“Okay, well, I’m happy for you,” I mumbled, almost truthfully, as I started out the door.
“Thanks,” he called after me, then added, “And, Delilah, be careful out there, all right?”
I didn’t turn, but just nodded and kept going.
I didn’t stop until I reached Amy May’s, heading right for the counter, sitting down, and yelling, “Cupcake!”
Ten seconds later a beautiful chocolate cupcake with Oreo frosting and chocolate shavings was set in front of me.
I dug in without even looking up.
Heaven.
I realized I hadn’t had anything to eat all day except a cupcake, so I stopped by a hot dog vendor on the way to the motel. I was chowing down on my fully loaded dog when my cell pinged an incoming text.
I need the pics from the Jones job ASAP. Then I have more info about the wareabouts of the druggies… I need more on them.
Ugh, Moose. I wasn’t sure that wareabouts was even a word, but I got the gist of what he was saying. I usually enjoyed my job – catching cheating bastards in the act gave me a little thrill – but this drug dealer stuff was starting to make me nervous. Hector seemed like bad news, and I didn’t like the fact that he’d seen my face … twice.
Still, the payout on this job was twice what I normally made, which meant I could get my kids some cool Christmas gifts. Oh, and pay my rent.
I went to the address Moose had given me earlier in the day, watching for movement as I drove past it and parked my van a block away.
I hadn’t seen anything, but that didn’t mean the perps weren’t inside. They were adulterers after all, so they wouldn’t exactly be boning in the front yard.
I checked the neighborhood, which was quiet and void of people, before jogging around the back of the houses and creeping up to the one I was looking for. I peered in the first window, finding the kitchen empty, before crouching down and making my way awkwardly to the next one.
I rose slowly, taking in the bookshelf and desk, before movement by the door captured my attention.
The man was turned toward me, but his hands were lifted up, holding on to the door jamb, his head thrown backward. The last thing in the world he was going to do was look out the window and pay attention to me, so I felt safe drawing my eyes downward to see what was putting that horrifying look of pleasure on his chubby face.
The full view was nothing to write home about. He was totally naked, and really hairy in areas that were not pleasing to the eye. He had not only chest hair, but patches of hair on his stomach and a thick line leading down to his big, unruly bush.
There was nothing happy about that trail…
I almost tossed my cookies.
Knelt before him was a fully clothed brunette, her head bobbing back and forth as she went to town on his junk. With every movement, I caught glimpses of his penis. Red and angry, it was small enough for her to deep throat with no trouble.
I’m never eating hot dogs again, I thought as I raised my camera, took enough shots to get faces, position, nudity, and the room, and hightailed it out of there.