Ties That Bind Read online

  Shirley shot the grease monkeys a dirty look. “What are you looking at?” She said as she stormed up the steps to our apartment.

  I saw it all from the window. Slamming it shut to let them know I didn’t appreciate them upsetting my best friend, I waited for Shirley to enter the apartment. Seeing the look of disgust on her face, I offered a calming voice. “Those creeps don’t mean any harm. They can’t help themselves.” I winked at her.

  Shirley let out a sigh. “It may be time for us to look for a new place.”

  I started scouring the newspapers for something in a family friendly environment.

  “This sounds perfect, Shirley; a one bedroom flat near the beach.”

  “How much?” She asked as she pulled the paper out of my hands.

  “Let’s take a look at it. Maybe we can get second jobs to help pay for it?” I said reaching for the phone.

  Those were the days. Shirley and I were like most young women of that generation. We worked hard, but we also played hard. We could be found on many a Saturday night at the local club dancing the night away. And, because of our close proximity to Hollywood, Shirley and I would venture into town to see if we’d run into any famous stars . . . and we did. I recall seeing Clark Gable, and Rita Hayworth. Back then, stars were more humble, down to earth. They waved, spoke to us and then went about their business. We were thrilled, of course, as we were just nobodies trying to make it in the big, bad world.

  Shirley and I stood holding each other. We trembled when she looked our way. I shrieked. “Oh. My. God. Look. It’s Rita Hayworth.”

  Rita looked our way and then shot us the most beautiful smile. We both smiled back. She walked up to the roped off area we were standing behind, and gently took our autograph book out of our hands.

  Shirley looked at me and hugged me. “Thank you, Miss Hayworth,” we both said at the same time.

  Like most young people, I struggled with paying the rent. I had no help from anyone in my family, but Shirley came from a well to do family, and she seemed to never be out of money.

  I realized I needed a better job than the one I currently held at the local insurance company, and began my search. And that’s how I landed the job at Phillips Private Investigation Firm and went to work for Charles Phillips. I needed the extra money to pay for the gorgeous flat one block away from the beach.

  It’s funny how you remember things. Years later, we’d travel to the area where the gorgeous one bedroom flat was located. It was anything but. However, everyone who was someone wanted to live within walking distance to the beach. We were no different.

  Chapter Two

  I remember clearly the day I interviewed for the job. Charles, the owner, asked the standard questions; how many words per minute I could type, if I could take shorthand, and what other skills I had. He then started to tell me a little bit about the job. I couldn’t help but focus on his eyes. He had the prettiest blue-gray eyes I’d ever seen on a man.

  In the beginning, I mostly answered the phone, made appointments for Charles, and looked after his calendar. I found his line of work interesting. He paid more than the job at the insurance company, which is what interested me first.

  Women dressed in high priced clothing would come in and from behind closed doors, I could hear them ranting and raving of their suspicions of their husbands cheating on them. They would hire Charles to get to the bottom of it.

  Of course, women weren’t the only suspicious creatures. We had plenty of men come in and hire Charles to follow their wives around to see what they’d been up to all day while they were at work.

  Soon, the Phillips P.I. firm was taking in new clients almost weekly, and Charles had a hard time keeping up. He’d been discussing hiring a helper when I had a bright idea. “I can help.”

  “You?” He asked looking somewhat surprised.

  “Yes, I find your line of work rather fascinating.”

  “Who are we going to get to do the clerical work?” He asked as he looked through the tall metal file cabinet for a file on a missing wife.

  “That would be easy. I can place an ad at the secretarial school. There are plenty of young ladies who’d be interested.” I said eagerly.

  He kept looking for the file, and sort of ignored me. I didn’t want to say any more but felt I was the best person for the job. I had a very inquisitive nature, and the work interested me. I walked back around to my desk and was just about to sit down when Charles pulled out the file he was looking for and slammed the drawer shut. As he walked back into his office, file in hand he looked over his shoulder. “Place the ad. We’ll go from there.”

  I typed up the ad on a three by five card. Yelling into the office that I’d be back, I turned the sign on the door that said ‘OUT TO LUNCH’ and walked the three blocks to the school.

  It wasn’t long after placing the ad that Ms. Kelly Parker interviewed for the job. She was very pretty with delicate features, petite in size, and long flowing blonde hair. Her eyes were vivid blue, and she had enough mascara on her lashes for three women. She wore a smart looking two-piece blue suit trimmed in white with matching blue pumps. She carried a white purse, and her cologne had a familiar smell, which later I’d learn was Chanel Number 5.

  I asked her the standard questions: how many words per minute could she type, and what other skills she had. I was satisfied she’d be perfect for the job. I called Charles in to meet her and see if he had anything more to ask or add. He walked in, looked her up and down, and then being a man of few words said, “When can you start?”

  It took a few days to get Ms. Parker familiar with things before I left her in her new position. She appeared to be very comfortable. Charles and I both felt she was a good fit for the practice, and later we’d agree she wasn’t too bad on the eyes either.

  * * *

  I started working closely with Charles on several of the cases. It was easy to blend in and follow the women we were hired to watch. They just saw me as another woman out shopping or having lunch. Little did they know, I reported my findings back to Charles, and sometimes they were pretty revealing. I witnessed women being kissed and hugged, checking into motels in the middle of the day, and all sorts of suspicious behavior. I loved the excitement my new job provided, and I didn’t feel the least bit guilty spying on people.

  Shirley was used to me coming home with outrageous stories. She always seemed to be interested. Sitting across from me with her legs crossed, she gave me her full attention. “I can’t believe they didn’t even notice you were spying. You must be good,” she said nodding her head.

  I leaned in, excited to give her more details. “I was looking over the menu, trying to eavesdrop and not be suspicious. It’s really exciting,” I told her.

  One of the scariest jobs we did was for a millionaire that wanted to see what his trust fund daughter was up to. He could have chosen any private investigator in a fifty-mile radius, but he chose us. He wanted to remain low key and decided we would provide the cover he needed.

  We met with Mr. Solomon, and he laid out the scenario. Apparently his daughter had become very secretive regarding her whereabouts. She was twenty years old, and in about two weeks would turn twenty-one. At that time, she was going to begin receiving approximately twenty-five thousand dollars a week until the age of twenty-five. Then she’d get bumped up to thirty thousand. He wanted to make sure she wasn’t hanging around bad people. He had a hunch she might be.

  Charles brushed his hand across his mouth, and his hand ended up in his lap. He crossed his legs. Then he uncrossed them. “This could either be an easy case or a very difficult one. It seems there may be more to the story.”

  I nodded I understood. Eager to learn, I leaned in for more details. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”

  Chapter Three

  Mr. Solomon had given us a detailed itinerary of his daughters’ typical day. Charles and I set out to see what we could find. The first couple of days we didn’t discover anything significant. She went
to the bakery; ordered a sticky bun and coffee, and ate it at a little bistro table outside the establishment—alone. Later, she went to the library and browsed the stacks only to leave empty handed.

  The next day, she went to the department store and tried on eight dresses before leaving empty-handed. To Charles and me, this didn’t seem to be a young woman who went through her money like water. She didn’t even spend any now, leaving us wondering if her father’s fears were unfounded.

  Charles paced the office floor. “Something just doesn’t add up. This gal is either very slick or innocent.”

  I watched him as he pondered. He looked out the window and then whirled around. “What do you think? You’re a woman.”

  Startled by his question, I paused before answering. I smoothed out my skirt. “I think she’s hiding something.”

  After following her for over a week, we were about to report back to Mr. Solomon that we hadn’t uncovered anything that would make us suspect she wouldn’t handle her inheritance wisely. But then we discovered something so surprising, I had a hard time believing it (even though I’d already voiced my opinion that she was up to something). Charles, on the other hand, said he’d seen it all and wasn’t shocked by her behavior. Looking back, I shouldn’t have been too shocked either as my own daddy did a little gambling.

  Apparently, Ms. Solomon was running numbers for a notorious bookie. She was meeting the clients at the bakery, library, department store and the final place we caught her in the act—at a nursing home while visiting her grandmother.

  We’d been told by her father that her grandmother—his mom lived there. We saw her go into the nursing home and waited in the car for almost an hour before she came back out. We didn’t suspect any funny business but wanted to stay on her trail.

  I noticed him first. Some guy with jet-black hair slicked back with enough grease to fry a chicken. I saw her slip him a large envelope and alerted Charles.

  We watched as he stuck it down his pants. She quietly walked away one direction, and he went the other. We waited until she got in her car and drove away before we proceeded to follow ol’ slick. Sure enough, he took us to a local pool hall that was infamous for gambling. We decided to watch her a bit more carefully now that we had an idea of what might be going on. That’s when things got interesting.

  Each day she’d go to different places, trying to throw us off the scent, but by the end of the day, she always led us to some individual that was on the receiving end of money. We weren’t sure yet, but we were pretty sure money was in the envelopes she turned over.

  “We need to find out who is giving her the envelopes to deliver,” Charles said.

  Nodding my head I exclaimed, “I agree.”

  We continued doing our research, and it wasn’t long before we discovered Ms. Solomon was involved with one of the biggest gambling families west of the Mississippi River. Mr. Las Vegas, as he was affectionately called, had a reputation for being pretty mobster like, and I was getting a bit scared.

  “Charles, maybe we’ve met our match. This guy is bad news.”

  “We’re not going to confront him; we’re just gathering evidence for Mr. Solomon.”

  “I know, but, I’m still nervous. What if he puts a hit out on us?”

  “We’re not going to get that close. We just need a bit more proof.”

  The danger we were exposed to was still nerve racking. This guy meant business. If he thought for a second, we were about to interfere with his business, or get the police involved Charles and I would have been wearing cement shoes.

  Lucky for us, Charles was right, and we got the evidence we needed to report back to the client. He was saddened by the news and wasn’t sure how he was going to handle it. That wasn’t for us to decide, or to know. We just wanted payment for finding out what his daughter was up to and go on our merry way. He handsomely rewarded us and we never heard from him or his daughter again.

  “You know, we make a great team,” Charles said lightly touching my hand.

  I stared into his blue-gray eyes, and my heart started beating a mile a minute.

  * * *

  I had always felt comfortable with him—even from the very first moment we met. Now, I felt something else. I knew it probably wasn’t wise to get involved with my employer. We were working together day in and day out, and it was natural to form a bond. But what I was beginning to feel was more than that. I wondered if he felt the same.

  We began spending a lot of time together - not just working cases in the office or out in the field, but after hours as well. Most of the time, work was the underlying reason for our after hour visits. However, I found myself laughing at his jokes, watching his every move and hanging on to his every word as if it were his last. We’d order Chinese take-out, pepperoni pizzas, or giant sub sandwiches and devour our meals over a coffee table spread with pads of paper—that contained our notes for one of our current cases. I loved being with him.

  Over the course of our courtship, I found out Charles ended up in California when he was in the Air Force. He liked it so well he decided to stay and make California his home. His mom and dad lived in Michigan along with an older brother. His sister, Carole was tragically killed by a hit and run truck driver when she was only five.

  He was five years older and because he’d traveled the world and learned about different cultures, he seemed a bit worldlier than I and it was fascinating to hear his stories.

  While he was in the military, Charles had traveled to Guam, and Japan, and saw how other cultures lived. We both liked the idea and looked forward to the day we could travel. His investigative firm was growing by leaps and bounds; it was a real possibility that his dream would come true.

  ***

  We both loved animals too, so when we got an opportunity to try and find the missing pug we dug in our heels and tried to locate the missing pup–after our initial outburst of laughter, that is.

  The pug we were looking for was approximately 3 years old and the woman who “lost” him was devastated. The way she spoke about “Henry” had you believing she was talking about her son. Her relationship with the dog was extreme, but nevertheless, real for her. We promised to do our best and find Henry.

  Charles and I started our search by looking at all the area parks.

  “That would be the first place on my list if I were a dog,” I told Charles.

  He nodded. He held the black and white photo of Henry the lady had given us and we headed out to the first of many parks to see if we could find him. Our primary concern, as well as Mrs. Peters, was Henry’s safety.

  We parked the car at one of the downtown parks. It was a Saturday and children, parents and dogs filled the park with laughter–and yes, barking dogs. It was a very busy day at the park and I was a bit overwhelmed trying to stay focused on all the four-legged friends.

  “Over here,” I called to Charles.

  “Nope. That’s not a pug,” Charles said, shaking his head.

  I continued walking amongst the smiling faces in search of old Henry. Well, he wasn’t very old, but it made Charles and I laugh thinking about the candy bar and the dog we were looking for.

  After a full day of searching parks, Charles and I headed home feeling a bit defeated.

  “How hard is it to find a small cream colored dog with a smashed up face?” Charles said scratching his head.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Beats me. I thought for sure we’d find him at one of these parks,” I said.

  “What’s our plan of action for tomorrow?” I asked.

  “We’ll check the pound. Maybe someone turned him in.” Charles said.

  “The pound! We should have checked there first,” I said feeling a bit foolish I hadn’t thought of that.

  “The park was a good idea. As friendly of a dog as Henry is, and the fact that he loves children made it was a great place to start.”

  I nodded. “I hate the thought of Henry sleeping in a cage.”

  Charles reached over and lightl
y rubbed my leg. It gave me goosebumps when he did that. Something about his touch always did that to me.

  The following day we went to the two local shelters to see if Henry was there. To our surprise, he was not.

  “I’m perplexed for sure. He wasn’t at the parks. He wasn’t at the pound. Where in the heck could he be?” Charles said.

  “I think we should contact Mrs. Peters. She may have some additional information,” I said.

  “I think that’s a brilliant idea, Pat.”

  We met with Mrs. Peters as Charles suggested. In the course of our conversation with her, she let it be known that she was in the middle of a divorce.

  “Mrs. Peters, is there any way that Mr. Peters could have taken Henry?”

  Mrs. Peters lowered her head. She fidgeted with the buttons on her sweater. “I didn’t want to think he would. But the truth is, he was always jealous of little Henry,” she said blinking back tears.

  Charles looked over at me. I shrugged my shoulders.

  I stood up and walked over to the desk. I took a pad of paper and pen and handed it to Mrs. Peters. “Please write his address down.”

  ***

  “You wait in the car. I don’t expect any trouble, but just in case,” Charles said.

  I nodded. This was one of the strangest cases we’d been on.

  I could see Charles on the stoop talking to a woman. She had long blonde hair and appeared to be trim. She was using her hands and once put them firmly on her hips. The body language told me she was agitated that Charles was questioning her. I was about to exit the car when Charles turned around and with head hanging down walked toward the car.

  “That’s the new girlfriend. She said he’s at work, and she doesn’t know anything about Henry. She was a bit upset that we visited their house today.”