Reflections Chapter 25 - Undercover Part 1, a castle fanfic

Chapter 25- Undercover – Part 1

The first Saturday of October found Johanna at her mother's house, sitting at the new oak kitchen table with Naomi, Colleen and Valerie. The month of September had passed smoothly and without too much difficulty where family was concerned, she thought to herself as her fingertips grazed the smooth surface of the table. Her father had thrown the expected fit when the table had been delivered and in true Frank McKenzie fashion, he had refused to sit at it for days. He had even refused to help move it into the usual spot in the more spacious living room for that first Sunday dinner, but he had eventually gotten over it once he saw it wasn't being returned. It wasn't the storm it could've been but Johanna couldn't shake the feeling that something was off in regard to her mother. She had first picked up the inkling when they had gone shopping but she had brushed it off, figuring Naomi was only nervous about the purchase or worried about running her off. The feeling hadn't abated though as the days and weeks had passed, and today it seemed to show the most as her mother seemed distracted despite inviting them all over for a girls day.

"Mom, is something bothering you?" Johanna asked once a lull in conversation presented itself.

Naomi's eyes widened slightly as she picked up a spoon and stirred her tea, even though the action wasn't necessary. "Why do you ask, dear?"

Her eldest daughter studied her with an assessing gaze. An evasive answer and unnecessary stirring were the warning signs of a Naomi McKenzie problem. "You just don't seem like yourself lately," she told her.

"I've noticed that too," Valerie remarked.

"Me too," Colleen chimed in.

Naomi glanced at them and then allowed her spoon to clang against the cup as she released her hold on it, opting instead to reach for the linen handkerchief that she kept in the pocket of her housedress as she burst into tears. "Mom, what's wrong?" Johanna asked, worry flooding her veins.

"I think your father is having an affair," she cried.

The three younger women glanced at each other, astonishment on their features as they tried to process what they had heard. "I don't think I heard that right," Johanna remarked. "Can you repeat yourself?"

"I think Frank is having an affair."

"Dad?" Colleen asked; her blue eyes wide with the shock that her tone conveyed.

"Yes."

"Frank McKenzie?" Valerie uttered in disbelief; unable to wrap her head around the idea.

Naomi nodded. "My husband."

Johanna scrubbed a hand over her face but surprise remained etched into her features as she then looked at her mother. "Who the hell would want him? I still find it hard to believe that you want him."

"Your father can be a very charming man when it suits him, Johanna. He's a good man overall; he's handsome and witty; intelligent and successful. He also has money and I'm sure that makes him very appealing to some cheap little chippy!" she exclaimed angrily as tears continued to run down her cheeks.

This was all so hard to fathom, Johanna thought and as she glanced at Valerie and Colleen, she knew she wasn't the only one struggling with the idea. "Dad wouldn't have an affair with a chippy...would he?" Colleen asked.

"Of course he would!" Naomi remarked. "He's a man, that's what they do!"

"Mama, let's just calm down for a minute," Johanna said as she raised a hand to halt the tirade she could see brewing. "Why do you think Dad's having an affair?"

"He shows all the signs," the older woman sniffled. "He's been working late more than usual and he's being secretive. I've smelled perfume on his shirts a few times."

"Did you ask him about those things?" Valerie asked.

She nodded. "He told me that he's working late because he has things to do and he can concentrate better at the office...but he's always done work at home, even with all three kids in the house. It's just an excuse...and he says I'm crazy when I accuse him of being secretive. I asked him why he smells like perfume and he says that women brush up against him on the elevator...and if that isn't a load of malarkey I don't know what is."

"He could be working late for legitimate reasons," Valerie gently suggested.

"And maybe whatever project he's working on he hasn't told you about because he thinks you won't like it or the people he's doing business with...that's happened before," Colleen remarked and Johanna nodded in agreement.

"Yeah; he's working on some chippy," she cried.

"Mom, let's stop saying chippy," Johanna commented. "We don't know if there's a chippy...and quite frankly, it's making me want chips."

Naomi got up from the table and moved to the cupboard and pulled out a bag of chips and tossed them on the table in front of Johanna. "I know there's a bimbo! She's called here!"

"What!?" they all exclaimed.

"A woman has called here three different times and when I've answered and said that Frank isn't home, she won't leave a message and she won't tell me her name. She just gives a stupid little laugh and says 'I'll catch him later, ta ta," Naomi said as she imitated the woman's flirty voice. "I'll 'ta ta' her! I'll break her damn neck when I get a hold of her!"

"Did you ask Dad about this woman?" Johanna questioned.

"He had the audacity to look me in the face and say that he doesn't have any idea who it could be. I know he's lying! We've been married long enough that I know when he's lying! He starts blinking like a toad in a wind storm."

The remark conjured up a round of stifled laughter as Naomi began to stir her tea again. "There's more," she remarked hesitantly.

"What is it, Mama?" Johanna asked.

"He...He doesn't seem to want me..."

"Want you?" Colleen repeated. "What do you mean, want you?"

Their mother's cheeks flooded with color. "He doesn't seem to…want me...you know...in the...you know."

"Oh God," Johanna muttered as the jist of that statement sunk in. "I think I may need a drink for this."

"Wine, vodka or whiskey?" Valerie asked. "Or should we just have it all?"

"I think this might call for the opening of that prized bottle of Jack Daniels that Dad has stashed in the back of the cupboard."

"You're right," Naomi announced as she rose from her chair once again and moved across the kitchen. She opened the cabinet that Frank stashed his liquor in and took out the bottle and the appropriate amount of glasses. She poured them all a drink and they all watched in stunned silence as Naomi McKenzie, who to their knowledge never dabbled in anything stronger than wine, knocked back a shot of whiskey and poured herself another. "He's not interested in me anymore... we've never gone this long..."

Colleen looked at her mother in surprise. "You mean you still have sex?"

Naomi's eyes narrowed as she looked at her youngest child. "Of course I do! Why wouldn't I?"

"Because...you're...over fifty."

"So! There isn't a cut off age for sex, Colleen. For God's sake; your grandmother has sex...she brags about it."

"Grandma has sex!" Colleen exclaimed. "But she's 79!"

"And Grandpa's dead," Johanna added after swallowing the contents of her glass and pouring herself some more.

"What's your point?" Naomi asked. "There are other men in the world."

"What are you saying!" Johanna exclaimed. "Are you saying that Grandma has a lover?"

"Well of course she does!"

"Oh my God," Valerie said as she shook her head. "Do we know him?"

Naomi nodded. "He's that nice man that takes her to bingo and helps her take care of things at the apartment."

"Uncle Giovanni?" Colleen yelled. "The one that gave us ice cream money and drove us to the church picnic with Grandma?"

"Yes...why do you think she told you to call him 'uncle' Giovanni?"

"I thought he just liked being an uncle," Colleen replied.

"Why didn't they just get married?" Johanna asked. "He's been around a long time in his 'uncle' capacity."

"Your grandmother doesn't want to get remarried."

She nodded. "She doesn't want to sell so she's just renting out the equipment, huh?"

"I wouldn't put it like that...that makes it sound like prostitution," Naomi remarked.

"This is disturbing," Colleen stated. "I feel like my whole life has been a lie."

"You think you're disturbed," Naomi commented; "I walked in on them once...it was like the worst nightmare you can imagine."

"Oh my God," Valerie exclaimed once again. "I can't believe this."

"I can't either," Johanna replied. "My grandmother has a better sex life than I do...Val; when you drive me home, drive over a bridge, I want to jump."

"Your grandmother isn't the issue here, your father is," Naomi said, bringing them back around to the topic at hand. "If he isn't getting it from home, he must be getting it elsewhere because it's been too long."

"How long are we talking?" Valerie asked.

"Val! Is that something we really want to know?" Johanna exclaimed.

"No; but...we have to ask so we know if it's been long enough to cause concern."

"It's been weeks," Naomi answered; her words slurring slightly as she had taken another shot of whiskey.

"How many?" Valerie questioned.

"It's been since the end of May."

The three younger women shared a look; that didn't sound good. "Any other suspicious activity?" Johanna asked.

"He always takes his calls in another room lately...he never really did that before and he seems to take extra care with his appearance. I know he's having an affair, I just know it...I just don't know how to prove it!"

They were all quiet for a minute until Johanna spoke once more. "Do you want to prove it?"

Her mother nodded. "I need to know for sure...so if he is, I can scratch his eyes out and then divorce that no good two timing lout! I gave him the best years of my life and this is the thanks I get! Johanna, if I divorce him, I want you to be my lawyer; I don't want some stranger involved in my dirty laundry."

Johanna nodded. "If he's cheating, I guarantee you I'll be the one handling your side of the divorce...because I'm going to make sure you take him for everything he's worth!"

"How are we going to find out?" her mother asked.

"You leave that to me," Johanna remarked as she cradled her glass in her hand. "I'll get to the bottom of this."

"What are you going to do, Sissy?" Colleen asked.

"A little detective work. I'm going to be all over this."

"I've lost my appeal," Naomi cried drunkenly an hour later after attempts to calm her and persuade her that she could be wrong failed. Colleen had silently removed the bottle of Jack Daniels from the table but the damage was already done as their mother's tolerance for something harder than wine didn't go far.

"You haven't lost your appeal," Johanna soothed. "You're a beautiful woman, you always have been and you always will be."

"No, I'm not," she cried. "I see those little lines starting around my eyes…and when I got married, I was your size, Johanna…but then I had three babies."

"Mom, your figure is fine; I don't see where it shows that you've had three babies. You might not be my size but you aren't that far from it. I mean, I have borrowed things out of your closet on occasion and they fit just fine…so were probably only talking about a very miniscule size difference. You have good genes, you're active, you've kept your figure, and your hair doesn't show signs of gray."

"Yeah, well, I have stretch marks," Naomi retorted; "And I have a scar from having my appendix removed...I don't paint a pretty picture anymore."

"But you've had that scar and those stretch marks for years," Colleen stated. "Why would they bother him now?"

"Because he's probably found something better now," their mother lamented. "Someone young and pretty."

"Naomi," Valerie said hesitantly; "Maybe he's just…tired."

The older woman shook her head; "He was doing just fine up until the end of May! He didn't suddenly age ten years; for God's sake, there are people out there in their 70's doing it so it shouldn't be a problem for him…especially when it's never been a problem before!"

"I wish I wasn't hearing this," Colleen murmured as she caught her sister's eye.

"That makes two of us."

Valerie shifted in her seat. "Well you know, sometimes they…can't…you know."

"Oh God," Johanna muttered for what must have been the hundredth time that afternoon. "I don't think I can take this."

"I thought of that," Naomi remarked. "But when I subtly suggested it he almost had a stroke about it so I'm sure that's not the cause. I thought maybe since so much had gone on this summer that it had affected him…but I think there's someone else."

"So he just gives you the brush off?" Johanna asked; hating herself as the words slipped from her lips.

"Pretty much," she sniffed. "He just stays up and watches the late movie or stays away until I'm asleep…and if he does go to bed when I do, he just turns his back to me."

The evidence was damning, Johanna thought and it made her blood boil to think of her father being unfaithful. If her mother didn't kill him, she would.

"I've tried talking to him but you know how he is; he always says nothing's wrong or he says I'm being ridiculous or we just fight. We fight all the time lately. He usually comes home for lunch a few times a week but he doesn't anymore…and of course when he works late, he doesn't come home for dinner either…you know something has to be wrong when he doesn't show up at the table."

Johanna moved from her chair and wrapped her arms around her mother in a consoling embrace. "Don't worry, Mama; I'll find out what's going on. Maybe it all just looks bad and really it isn't."

"What am I going to do if this is it?" Naomi sobbed. "I haven't had a job in nearly thirty years."

"You have a job, you teach piano," Colleen reminded her.

"I only do that a two times a week; that wouldn't pay the bills…and where would I go to live?"

"You'd stay right here," Johanna remarked. "If anyone is leaving this house, it will be him and he'll be paying alimony until the day he kicks it because I'll make sure of that. If that still isn't enough, then I'll pay half the bills. Don't worry about it…remember what you always tell us; life never delivers something we can't handle?"

"What if I was wrong?"

"You're not."

"Maybe you need to lay down and take a nap," Colleen gently suggested as she too wrapped an arm around their mother.

"That's a good idea, Naomi; why don't you go rest and we'll clean up the kitchen," Valerie added.

"Come on," Johanna said; assisting her wobbly mother to rise from her chair. "You just take a little nap and you'll feel better."

"Except for the headache you're probably going to have," Colleen added as she hurried to grab a hold of Naomi as the alcohol had made her unsteady on her feet and Johanna was about to be taken down with her.

"I have a headache every day," Naomi declared.

They all murmured consoling words as they ushered her into her bedroom and settled her in her bed. "You sleep now," Johanna said, wiping her mother's face with a clean tissue that she had plucked from the box on the nightstand while Valerie covered her with the crocheted afagan that laid at the foot of the bed.

They stayed with her, murmuring words of support until finally Naomi drifted off with a shuddering breath. Quietly they crept from the room, shutting the door behind them. "I can't even believe this," Valerie whispered.

"Neither can I," Johanna replied. "I would've never thought it."

"What are we going to do?" Colleen asked.

Johanna's gaze flicked toward the door of the home office that her father often inhabited. "You're going to go keep a look out at the window while I do a little search," she told her sister.

Colleen's eyes gleamed. "Like when we were kids?"

"Exactly; only try to be a little quicker with your alerts and don't scream it loud enough to get us caught this time."

"Don't worry, I can handle it," she responded; hurrying off to take her post at the window.

"Are you sure you should do this?" Valerie asked as Johanna quietly turned the door knob and swung the door open.

"Do you have a better idea of where to look for clues?"

"No…"

"Then this is where I start; stay here and listen for the signal just in case I miss it."

Johanna swiftly moved through the office and to the desk where she sat down in Frank's old brown leather chair. She carefully looked through the papers lying on the desktop, she didn't find any clues but she didn't really expect to find anything in his paperwork and she took great care in replacing the documents as they had been. She then moved to the stack of mail and pieces of scrap paper that littered one side of the desk. There was nothing suspicious in the mail but she came across a torn piece of paper that bore a phone number. "555-8729".

There was no name written on the paper to identify who the number belonged to and Johanna frowned as her suspicions rose. She carefully tore a piece of paper from a notepad and jotted down the number and then put the scrap back where it had been. She'd figure out who the number belonged to when she was finished with her search. She began pulling open the drawers next, riffling through the contents. She found an address book and pulled it out and began to flip through the pages. The names of family, friends, and colleagues met her gaze; nothing seemingly out of the ordinary until she flipped to the empty back pages and once again saw that number "555-8729". A name was still absent…but apparently he didn't want to chance forgetting the number if he had taken the time to write it down twice.

A quick perusal of the remaining drawers yielded a matchbook that bore the name of a place called "The Blue Moon Club". Johanna couldn't recall ever hearing of the place but that didn't mean anything. Clubs and restaurants were always springing up around the city, it was impossible to keep track. It wasn't necessarily a clue, her father often met clients for drinks or meals, it could be nothing…but she wrote down the name of the club anyway and put the matchbook back. Why would he take a matchbook though? He didn't smoke anymore; he had kicked that habit a few years before…so why would he take it? Her mother kept a box of matches for candle lighting…was there a reason for this little souvenir? Johanna took the object back out of the drawer and flipped open the cover. "L, 214 64th street 6B" was scrawled in a feminine hand.

Anger surged through her veins as the evidence seemed to be mounting against her father. "You son of a bitch," she muttered as she added the initial and the address to her notes before putting the book of matches back in the drawer. Johanna looked through the rest of the drawers and then did a quick check of the room to ensure that everything had been put back to rights.

"Did you find anything?" Valerie asked as they quickly moved to the living room.

"I found a phone number but I don't know who it belongs to and an address for someone with the initial 'L'."

"So now what?" Colleen asked as she abandoned her post at the window and moved to join the women on the sofa.

"Call the number and see who answers," Johanna told her; holding out the scrap of paper.

"Me! I can't do that! You know I get nervous about that kind of stuff. What if Dad answered?"

"Then we'd nail him."

"I can't," Colleen said with a shake of her head. "You do it; you're better at it."

Valerie nodded in agreement. "She's right, Jo; you're good at spur of the moment stories."

"Fine, I'll do all the dirty work," Johanna huffed. "I always do."

"Because you're the best," Colleen remarked.

"Uh huh, it has nothing to do with you being chicken," she replied as she picked up the phone and dialed the number. There was a knot in her stomach as she listened to the line ring; hoping that her father wouldn't answer. Maybe it would be a business…maybe no one would answer…but the line clicked as it was answered and she curled her hand into a fist as a woman said "Hello?"

"Hi, Shannon?" Johanna said; throwing out the first name that came to mind.

"No," the woman said with an air of annoyance.

"Is this her sister?"

"No, there's no Shannon here."

"But this is the number she gave me…she said she was staying with the Hendersons…is this the number for the Hendersons?"

"No it isn't."

"Are you sure?" Johanna asked.

"I'm positive! My last name is Fletcher and I don't know any Henderson's or anyone named Shannon."

"Sorry to have bothered you," she said lightly; gleeful that she had gotten a last name even if the woman did slam the phone down in her ear.

"Well?" Colleen asked anxiously.

"Get the phone book," Johanna directed. "A woman answered; her last name is Fletcher…we'll see if any Fletcher's in the phone book match this number."

Colleen grabbed the phone book from its place under the stand and the three women put their heads together as they examined the pages of listings for people named Fletcher. "I'm not seeing it," Valerie commented as they checked a second and third time.

Johanna sighed. "It's probably an unlisted number."

"She probably doesn't want phone calls from disgruntled wives," Colleen commented.

"That could be. I guess we're back to square one."

"What's your next move, Jo?" Valerie asked.

She pondered that for a moment. "Well, I'll have Mom notify me when he says he's going to be working late…and Val if you hear anything from Frankie, let me know. We'll all keep our eyes open, and our ears too…and I'll enlist some help for the tough parts of this job since the two of you are obviously too chicken to get your hands dirty."

"What are you going to do if you find out he is with someone?" Valerie asked.

"I don't know…I guess I'll cross that bridge when I get to it."

As Johanna walked towards Jim's door later that day, she rubbed her fingers across her forehead as an ache settled above her eyes. The cause of the headache was debatable; it was either a side effect of those small shots of whisky or a side effect of the drama. Probably both, she thought as she knocked on the door. A moment later the door opened and Jim appeared in front of her, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "How did you know?" he asked.

"Know what?"

"That I was sitting here hoping that a beautiful woman would show up at my door."

The corners of her mouth curved upward. "Just luck I guess."

Jim stepped back to allow her into the apartment. "I thought you were going home to your mama today."

"I did," Johanna replied as she crossed the threshold, shrugging out of her jacket and handing it to him along with her purse so that he could hang them in the closet.

"Didn't it go well?"

"It was enlightening," she remarked as she kicked off her shoes and settled down on her usual corner of his sofa.

"Do you want a drink?"

"Coke if you have it."

"You should know by now that I always make sure to save you a soda," Jim replied as he headed to the kitchen.

"Well you never know; you might be dying of thirst and unwilling to go to the store to get more and in your desperation, you'll drink the soda you saved for me."

"I'd be lying if I said that hasn't happened before," he laughed from the next room.

"I'm not surprised at all."

He returned a few minutes later, carrying a cold glass of soda for each of them and then he settled down on the opposite end of the couch. Johanna took a long satisfying sip of her drink and then shifted, stretching her legs out and allowing her feet to take up residence on his lap. He smiled as his hand fell against the soft skin of her ankle. "Rough girls day with the tribe?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"My day wasn't all that great either," Jim told her. "I had to meet with that client I was telling you about yesterday. Nothing ruins a Saturday like work does, especially when it involves a guy like that. He's one of those people that thinks he should always come first and the hell with anything else you have to do. That's why I had to meet him today; our office hours just weren't convenient for him this week. To make it worse, he's also one of those people who wants to tell you how to do your job."

"Poor baby," Johanna stated, rubbing her foot against his thigh as she met his gaze.

He laughed. "I'm detecting some sarcasm here, Jo."

Amusement sparkled in her eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah…and here I was hoping that you were going to be consoling…"

"Normally I would be but I think my day was worse."

Jim shook his head. "Can't be; you got to do what you wanted today and I didn't."

"Oh yeah; well let's see what you think after you hear this. My mother, who never willingly discusses sex, burst into tears, announced that she believes that my father is having an affair, gets out the bottle of Jack Daniels and tells us how long it's been since they've had sex and how they've never gone that long before."

"No she didn't!" he laughed.

"Oh but she did," she confirmed; "And wait, there's more; Colleen's shock that they still have sex led to the discussion that my grandmother has had a lover for over a decade and apparently has a better sex life than I do…now who's day was worse?"

"You didn't make that up?" Jim questioned; merriment in his eyes.

"Hell no I didn't make it up! Why would I think up a horror story like that!"

Laughter spilled from his lips. "You win."

"Damn right I win," she remarked, taking a long sip of her soda. "It was terrible, Jim…I had two or three shots of whiskey and it did nothing to dull the memory of that conversation."

"Maybe you better tell me the whole story."

"You want the whole dirty story?" she asked; "Okay, I'll tell you. Mom thinks Dad's having an affair…which is bizarre in it's own right because quite frankly, he's lucky to have found one woman whose willing to put up with him…where he ever found another one is beyond me, if the woman even exists. If she does, she must be desperate or stupid…or just a home wrecking whore, only time will tell about that. Anyway, she begins giving the evidence for the claim, which I admit is a bit damning; and then she gets to the part where they haven't gone this long without sex before…and that's when we had to break out the whiskey because you just can't hear about your mother's sex life without alcohol…it's your only hope for forgetting that it happened, and the only hope to numb the pain while it's going on…but you know, hope is a fickle bitch and unfortunately I think we're all going to have this memory burned onto our brains for all time."

Jim was trying not to laugh but failing miserably as she continued on. "So we break out Dad's prized bottle of Jack Daniel's and crack it open…and there's Naomi McKenzie, who's never been seen dabbling in anything stronger than wine, who in fact gets loud after two glasses of wine, knocking back shots of whiskey like she just bellied up to the bar at the Long Branch Saloon in Dodge. Then, the same buttoned up, prim and proper lady who gave Colleen and I Harlequin romance novels in her quest to teach us about sex, just puts it out there that it hasn't happened in her house since the end of May…and that she keeps being rebuffed."

"Oh my God," Jim said; his shoulders shaking with laughter.

"That's what Valerie kept saying," Johanna remarked. "Anyway, like I said, Colleen was in amazement that a woman over fifty still has a sex life and interest in one, so Mom announces that there's no age limit on it and that our grandmother, who is 79, is still doing it and bragging about it!"

"Bragging about it doesn't necessarily mean she's doing it; people can say anything."

"Mom walked in on her and her boyfriend."

He burst into laughter. "Are you serious?"

She nodded. "Apparently Mom's still having nightmares about it. There was a part of me that wanted to ask how that happened…but then I decided the less I knew about it the better. I don't want my sleep haunted with the idea of the image. It's bad enough knowing that it's going on at all."

Jim was still laughing. "Hey, if she can still do it at her age, I say more power to her."

She scoffed. "I'd be happy for her if it wasn't so damn depressing. I mean that's my grandmother…it's one thing to know your mother's having sex…it's another to know it's your grandmother…GRAND MOTHER," she enunciated. "Do you know how depressing it is to find out that your grandmother has a better sex life than you do?"

"I guess that would be a little bit of a downer."

"A little!" she exclaimed. "More like a lot! And to make it worse, we know this guy! We grew up calling him Uncle Giovanni. When Colleen and I would go spend weekends with Grandma in the summer, he'd come around and give us money for ice cream and movie magazines. We thought he was just a nice old man that took her to Bingo and fixed things that broke and that she cooked for him…well she's cooking for him alright, just not in the room we thought! That ice cream money was just to get us out of the apartment while he paid a service call to our grandmother. Good God, what the hell is going on in this family? On the McKenzie side, I have greedy bastards and on the Calabrese side, evidently they're sex fiends who want it right up until the end!"

Jim was laughing so hard that he could barely breathe, his eyes watering from the exertion. "It's so not funny," Johanna stated. "It's just so many levels of wrong I can't even comprehend them all. Poor Colleen, I thought her eyeballs were just going to pop out of her head and roll around on the kitchen floor."

He finally caught his breath and swiped at his eyes. "I say good for grandma that she's staying in the game," he managed to say, laughter still bubbling up within him.

"Most women her age go to Bingo, warm the pew every Sunday morning, and spend the rest of the week watching soaps and calling people on the phone…my grandmother's entertaining men…while presenting an innocent façade to the world. I'm supposed to have dinner with her sometime this month…I don't know if I'll be able to look her in the eye."

"Think of it this way, Jo; you're going to make your future husband very happy."

"How do you figure?"

'Well if your mother and grandmother are both still in the game; apparently the sex drive in your family doesn't die; you'll follow in their footsteps and your husband will be thrilled."

She smirked at him. "Kind of makes you want to get pretend married again, doesn't it?"

"I don't recall signing the divorce papers…maybe we should reconcile and work things out," he teased.

"Uh huh, you just want to work out your theory. This day started off well, sunshine and still a bit of warmth to the air; we had some innocent girl talk, made a cake for tomorrow's dinner…and then bam; the world upends itself and you find out that your father might be a cheater and that your grandmother has a lover."

"You can't get past that about your grandmother, can you?"

"Could you? What if you found out that Lilly had a lover?"

He laughed. "Honestly; it wouldn't surprise me a bit. She did make the statement that once a woman was widowed it was socially proper for her to be, and I quote, 'loosey goosey'…and since she's a widow…we can all draw our own assumptions about that statement."

Johanna shook her head. "Whatever happened to old ladies who sat in rocking chairs and waited for their grandchildren to come visit?"

"They still do that…it's just that at night they find other ways to spend their time," he teased.

"Good lord. Anyway, now I have to find out if Dad is out being an unfaithful lout."

"Why do you have to find out?"

"Who else is going to do it?" she asked.

"Your mother."

Johanna wrinkled her nose. "Mom can't do it. She can't even hold herself together to say the words…and she wouldn't be good at being discreet. I'll have to do it…I already told her I would; and she's already named me as her attorney if there's a divorce."

"That's jumping the gun, don't you think?"

"No; it's good for her to be prepared, just in case. I'm going to find out though. I found a phone number on his desk at home; we called it after we put Mom to bed to sleep off her whiskey. A woman answered; her last name is Fletcher. I also found a matchbook in one of his desk drawers, there was an initial and an address written in it. Val and I drove by that address on the way home; hoping it was a business of some sort but it's an apartment building. He's up to no good, just like Mom said," she remarked before filling him in on the rest of Naomi's evidence.

"It could just look bad," Jim stated. "It might not be what you think."

"Yeah, well, how are we going to know if no one goes and does the leg work to find out?"

"Do you really think it's wise to get involved in this?"

"I'm already involved!" she exclaimed. "This is my mother's heart that's being trifled with! I do not take that lightly!"

"She's your only reason for wanting to nail him to the wall?"

She pulled her feet off of his lap and eyed him sharply. "You did not just accuse me of that, did you?"

"Accuse you of what? I didn't make any accusations."

"You implied an accusation!"

"Well now that it's out there…is your mother the only reason you want to take this burden on?"

It kind of hurt to think that he had a low opinion of her like that and she had to allow the sting to roll off her back as she eyed him coolly. "Do you really think that I want him to be having an affair? Do you think I want my mother to be hurt like that? That I want to have to represent her in a divorce case that would tear my family apart? No, my father and I don't get along, but I'd never want this! But if he is being unfaithful to her, then she has a right to know and choices to make…and if I'm the one who has to help her, then I'm the one who's going to help her. She isn't my burden; she's my mother."

Jim nodded. "Smooth your feathers, Sassy; I wasn't trying to rile you."

"You have a funny way of showing it."

He reached for her drawn up ankles and pulled her feet back into his lap, keeping his hold on them firm as she tried to wiggle them away from him. "Come on now, behave," he said, patting her ankle. Her feet stilled but a storm still raged in her eyes. "I didn't mean to accuse you of anything. Let's hear the rest."

Her lips were pressed into a thin line, as if in refusal to share more with him. "Sweetheart," he murmured. "Don't be stubborn; you know I'm sorry."

"Tell me more about your day," Johanna said; abandoning her plan of asking him for help in her mission. She'd have to go it alone.

"I already told you about my day; let's get back to yours. What are you going to do?"

She shrugged. "I have some ideas in mind."

"Are you going to share them with me?"

Johanna pondered that for a moment; maybe there was still the possibility for his assistance after all. "Depends."

"On what?"

She smiled warmly and moved her foot against his thigh once more. "You care about me, don't you?"

"You know I do."

"Honey…"

There was something about the way she said that endearment that set off alarm bells in his head. He was about to fall into some kind of trouble. "Yeah?" he asked hesitantly.

"I'm going to need some help," she said sweetly.

"With your sex life?"

"No!" she said; giving his leg a shove with her foot.

"Are you sure? Because you know, I'm here for you," Jim said in amusement.

Johanna smirked at him. "I'm sure."

"Then what is it that you need help with?"

"My mission," she stated.

Jim gave a soft chuckle. "Why do I have the urge to say, your mission, should you choose to accept it…"

"If you're hoping this message will self destruct in five seconds, you're out of luck," she told him.

"I'm not even going to touch that comment."

"You're a smart boy," she teased.

"Man," he corrected.

"Is that a hint to stroke your ego?"

"It probably wouldn't hurt your cause."

She grinned. "You're a smart, handsome man…soo compassionate and wonderful."

"Uh huh; just lay it out for me, Jo."

"I'm going to need you to assist me in my…endeavor."

"Johanna," he said hesitantly. "I don't know if I want to get involved in your family squabbles."

She frowned. "I'd do it for you."

"What is it that I'd have to do?"

"Drive me around…help me check out some places, follow up some leads…and whatever else comes up."

"So you're being a private detective, are you?"

"Don't say it like it's a bad thing. Think of it as an adventure."

"I don't know..."

"What if I made it worth it somehow?"

His brow rose. "Like how?"

Johanna thought for a moment. "What if I cook for you?"

"Fried chicken?" he asked hopefully.

"Aren't you tired of that yet? I know how to make other things, you know."

"I love your fried chicken, Jo…and the potatoes and the gravy. You have a gift."

She laughed. "Then wouldn't you like to try something else on my menu? What about lasagna? My grandmother taught me how to make it when I was about thirteen; the recipe has been in the family for a long time."

"I like the fried chicken."

"But lasagna is good," she stated; "And I can make my mother's breadsticks and a nice salad…homemade dressing. I'll make something for dessert too."

"But I really like the chicken," he insisted.

"I have so much more to offer than just fried chicken, Jim. I know how to cook a lot of things."

He sighed. "Okay, I'll make you a deal. You make the fried chicken for the first meal and you can make the lasagna for the second."

"The second?"

Jim nodded. "Oh yeah; if I do this, you're cooking for me all week, sweetheart; and by all week, I mean every day including Sunday…so you give your regards to your mother on the chosen date."

Her eyes narrowed at him. "Seven meals…"

"With dessert too," he stated.

"Seven meals with desserts…do I at least get to cook them in my own kitchen for convenience?"

"Of course, sweetheart; I'm willing to come to you."

"Any other demands?" Johanna asked.

He smiled. "Yes; but I suppose it could be considered more of a suggestion as it would be impossible to make it a deal breaker."

"What?" she inquired warily.

"Dress sexy," he grinned.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not even going to ask if you have any suggestions for that."

"If you need one, I know you look good in a towel."

"Forget it."

"I can't…I've tried…but I can't."

"Do we have a deal?" she asked, bringing his focus back to where she needed it. "You're going to be my accomplice in return for a week of free meals?"

Jim thought about it for a moment. "I still don't think it's a good idea…but I'm not going to let you do it alone. I'm in."

Jim tossed down his pen and leaned back in his chair and frowned at the clock; 2:30…still too many hours until quitting time. He released a disgruntled breath; the day was dragging and it had been slow work wise. He hated days like that. It looked as though the universe might be apologetic for his hardship though, as he heard Johanna greeting Sally before she crossed the threshold of his office and closed the door behind her.

"Are we having a secret rendezvous?" he asked her with a grin.

"In a manner of speaking," Johanna replied as she dropped into the chair in front of his desk.

"And here I thought it was just another boring Monday."

"I'm glad I could improve your outlook."

"You always improve the outlook of any day," he said warmly, bringing a light blush to her cheeks. He loved making her blush; he wasn't sure why but he did.

"Are you busy tonight?"

"No; what do you have in mind?"

"A stakeout."

"A what?"

"A stakeout," Johanna repeated. "I just got off the phone with my mother…"

"Which means it's a slow day in every part of the office," Jim remarked.

"Anyway," she said, silencing him with a look. "She's been informed that my father is working late tonight."

"And?"

"And I need to stakeout the office and see if he's really there, and who comes out of the building with him…and you know, you have a car…and you said you'd help me."

So Monday was back down the tubes, he thought to himself. "Really?"

Johanna nodded. "It'll be fun."

"It doesn't sound like fun."

'Sure it is, we're solving a mystery; solving mysteries is always fun."

"Are you sure you want to do this? I figured you would've thought it over by now."

"Of course I want to do this and there's nothing to think over. We had a deal."

Jim nodded. "I know our deal; I'm to be your accomplice in return for free meals."

"Right…and I'll sweeten the deal by buying you dinner tonight if you go on a stakeout with me."

Jim shook his head. "I can't believe you're talking about a stakeout…this wasn't what I had in mind when you asked for assistance."

"What did you have in mind?"

He shrugged. "I don't know…a few phone calls and maybe standing by while you question people close to the situation. I didn't know you were going into full on black ops mode with stakeouts…do you want me to borrow my grandmother's binoculars for you?"

Given the expression on her face, that idea appealed to her, he thought and the words she spoke next confirmed the assumption. "Could you? That's not a bad idea."

"Really?" he asked in surprise.

"Yeah; think about it; we can't park right in front of the building, he'd see me and that would defeat my purpose and cause a lot of suspicion. There's a side street we can park on that will give us a good view of the front and side of the building, but binoculars would probably help, especially since it'll probably be dark when he leaves."

"You really want the binoculars?"

"Yes, if you think you can get them."

He gave a short laugh, a touch of disbelief still racing through him that she was already so deeply invested in her mission. "I'll get them."

"Great…so you're in, right?"

"Apparently so."

Johanna smiled brightly. "What time will you pick me up?"

"Wouldn't it be easier for me to just take you with me when we leave here? We'll get the binoculars, we'll get something to eat; you'll go spy on your father and then we'll call it a night."

She shook her head. "I have to change clothes."

"You have a stakeout outfit, huh?"

"Not exactly; I'd just rather be more comfortable; you can drop me off and I'll change clothes and you can go get the binoculars and whatever else you need to do and then come back and get me."

"Alright;" Jim said. "I'll pick you up…if you're sure you want to do this."

"If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't be sitting in your office making plans for it."

"I can't wait to see what you're plotting next," he replied.

She smiled but said nothing; no need to tell him about that idea about sneaking into her father's office once he left to search for clues. That was the kind of information that was best given out when it was too late to do anything about it.

"I could never be a cop," Jim stated that evening as they sat in his car.

"Why not?" Johanna asked.

"Because this is boring," he replied; his gaze focused on the building a short distance away that housed McKenzie-Thorton Industries.

She sighed. "Are you going to complain the whole time? I bought you dinner as compensation; it's like you got a bonus free meal."

"It wasn't enough to make this worthwhile. We've been sitting here for an hour and a half for what seems to be no reason."

"Yes, and you've been complaining for an hour and twenty-five minutes. I already told you the reason for the stakeout. He's working late tonight and I want to see who with. There are only two cars in the parking lot and one of them is his...I don't know who the other one belongs to."

"So why don't you just go in there on some pretext and see what he's doing?"

"Because that would look suspicious and I can't afford that until I have some proof about what's going on."

"We don't even know for certain that anything is going on. That other car in the lot doesn't necessarily have to belong to a woman."

"There's a fifty percent chance that it does."

"Jo, let's think about this; if he is having an affair with a woman he works with, why would they stay at the office? Why wouldn't they go to a motel?"

She eyed him. "Maybe they want to make it look good in case someone drives by to check up on them. The light will be on and the cars will be in the lot; it looks innocent from the street."

"So they'd rather do it on the desk than take a cab, while leaving the lights on and the cars in the lot; same effect, more comfortable."

Johanna grimaced. "First of all, don't put that image in my head..."

"Well think about it!"

"I don't want to think about it! And for the record, he has a couch in his office that I'm sure could be put to use! And another thing, you seem to know an awful lot about being a discreet cheater...makes me wonder what skeletons you have hanging in your closet."

Jim smirked at her. "Maybe you should do a stakeout and find out."

"Jackass."

"Listen, we have no proof that he's having an affair with someone at the office; it could be anyone from anywhere if there is someone. What if he really is working late? What if he's working with a secretary or an assistant?"

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Johanna stated. "Do you really think I haven't looked at both sides of this? Believe me, I've taken everything into consideration and I'm making my assumptions based on the evidence, which I am now investigating."

"Okay, forget I said anything...clearly you aren't open to rational reasoning."

"If you didn't want to help me, you should've just said so."

"It's not that...I just feel like this isn't my place. Your mother should be the one on a stakeout."

Johanna unlocked her door with a huff and pushed it open. "Go home, Jim. I can do this alone; I don't need you to help me."

"Johanna," he said in agitation as she got out of the car.

She leaned back in to peer at him. "Don't worry, I'll be fine and you're right, you couldn't be a cop...you're a lousy partner. I should've asked Jeff."

"Hey!" Jim exclaimed, the mention of his best friend landing like a bee sting.

"And you can kiss your week of free meals goodbye too," she remarked before slamming the door shut and sauntering down the sidewalk.

He blew out a frustrated breath and started his car, following her as she made her way to the phone booth at the end of the street. She shut herself inside the booth as he got out of the car and marched to the booth with purpose as he saw her digging through her purse for change. "Johanna!" he said, wrapping on the glass.

She ignored him as she found a few coins and picked up the phone. "Johanna, if you call Jeff, I'll..."

"You'll what?" she asked; a challenge gleaming in her eyes.

"I'll...I don't know but I'll think of something!"

She rolled her eyes and dropped the dime into the slot, her fingers touching the keypad.

"Johanna!"

"Is there a problem here?" a voice said from behind him.

Jim turned and found himself face to face with a cop. This just wasn't his night. "There's no problem, officer," he said calmly.

"Then what are you doing?" the officer asked with a nod at the phone booth.

"She's my wife," Jim announced. "We had a fight and I was just trying to get her to come out of there and come home so that we can work things out."

The cop took a step toward the booth and wrapped on the glass. "Is he bothering you, ma'am?"

"No," she answered; "And if he was, I could handle it myself."

The officer smirked as he looked to Jim. "Got yourself one of those types, huh?"

"Yeah," he said with a laugh. "You know how it is; you never find out until it's too late."

The other man nodded. "Isn't that the truth. Since this is a personal matter; I'll leave you to tend to your business but keep it down, okay?"

"Of course, officer; there won't be any problems." Jim replied; staying quiet until the man was out of sight and then he caught Johanna's eye through the glass. "Come out of there now," he stated firmly but quietly.

Johanna hung up the phone; her mother's line busy anyway and reluctantly opened the door of the phone booth and stepped out. "Are you done having your tantrum?" Jim asked.

"I wasn't having a tantrum; I was merely releasing you from being my accomplice."

"Don't start that," he said with a wave of his hand. "Just get back in the car."

"I still have work to do, you go on."

"Get in the damn car or I'll throw you in it," Jim replied.

She smirked. "That's not a very nice thing to do to your 'wife'."

"I wouldn't take any pride in it; come on, let's get back to work. I'll stop complaining and you can simmer that temper of yours."

Johanna figured it was best to end the stalemate and got back into the car. Silence reigned between them as they went back to watching the building. Ten minutes had passed when Jim noticed movement. "Someone's coming out," he told Johanna.

She picked up the binoculars and looked through them. "That's Dad; someone is coming out behind him...I can't tell who it is yet."

Frank McKenzie stepped into the glow of the dim lights of the building's exterior lighting and a woman stepped out behind him. Her jaw tightened, watching as her father gave the woman his arm and escorted her to the parking lot. "Do you know her?" Jim asked quietly.

"No...that's not his secretary."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. "That woman looks like she's barely older than my brother; that's definitely not Bess...Bess is older than my mother and she's got more weight on her than that woman he's with. I've known Bess all of my life and that's not her."

He heard the undertones of emotion in the tautness of her voice as she continued to watch the two people in the parking lot. They seemed somewhat cozy and he could only imagine how much that was twisting Johanna up inside. Finally the unknown woman got into her car, Frank, closing the door for her and seeing her off with a wave. He then got in his car and when she saw that he was headed in their direction to go home, she ducked down in the seat until Jim gave her the all clear. "What now, sweetheart?" he asked.

"We're going in," she answered.

"In? In where?"

"The office...I'm going to search his office."

"We can't do that!" Jim exclaimed.

"Yes we can."

"That's breaking and entering!"

She laughed. "Not when you know the code to get in the door."

"What about security in the building?"

"Dad doesn't have security guards in there; he doesn't have cameras either, he always says there isn't anything in there that anyone would be interested in."

"Don't you think it will look suspicious if we go in and start turning on lights?"

"We're not going to turn on the lights. There's enough light from the street coming through the windows to get us to the elevator; we'll take a flashlight with us for upstairs...and don't tell me you don't have one. You're a man; all men have flashlights stashed in their cars."

"It's under the seat," he answered; "But I still don't think we should be doing this."

Johanna sighed. "What happened to your sense of adventure, Clyde?"

"I thought you took it in the pretend divorce."

"I thought we reconciled," she quipped as she reached under her seat and grabbed the flashlight. "You told that cop I was your wife...so technically you already broke the law tonight by giving a false statement to an officer."

"Well, when you put it like that, I guess we may as well continue down our criminal mischief path."

She smiled. "I knew you'd come around to my way of thinking, honey."

"Against my better judgment," Jim remarked. "Stick to the shadows and act casual, we can't hurry."

"Now you're thinking like Clyde!"

"Come on, Bonnie," he quipped. "Let's take a little stroll."

They got out of the car and Jim took her hand, guiding her into the shadows before he discreetly slipped the flashlight into his jacket pocket, hoping that her body would shield it as he slid an arm around her and pulled her close. They moved slowly; pretending that they were merely lovers out for a walk. They crossed the street and subtly glanced around, looking to see if they had been spotted. They heard the sound of people approaching from the opposite end of the sidewalk that ran in front of Frank's building. Jim pushed her back toward the door and then quickly captured her lips in a kiss without a word. She seemed to sense his plan, offering no resistance or surprise at the sudden gesture. He kissed her until he heard the shuffle of footsteps passing them. They remained in their embrace, Jim nuzzling her hair as her eyes scanned the street to make sure all was clear now.

"Is the coast clear?" he murmured in her ear.

"Yes," she whispered.

"I'll turn my back to you while you punch in the code so I can keep a look out."

"Okay," she replied; turning to face the keypad as Jim turned away from her.

He silently counted off two minutes in his head as he waited for her to announce that the door was open but no announcement came. "Is there a problem?" he asked quietly.

"My mind went blank," Johanna whispered.

His head dropped as he kicked at a rock. "Now's a hell of a time to be scatterbrained, Jo."

"Scatterbrained!" she exclaimed. "You're just begging me to kick your ass tonight, aren't you?"

"Save that sexy feistiness for home, sweetheart; figure out the code or forget it."

"Let me work it out!" she hissed. "I need to remember when my parents got married. Let's see, I was born in 51; Frankie's three years older than me, that means they got married in...47," she figured as she punched in those two numbers. Frankie was born in June, that's 6. I was born in February, that's 2 and Colleen was born in April so that's another 4," she said as she punched in the numbers. "Here we go..."

"What happens if you push on that door and it doesn't open?" Jim asked.

"We run like hell," she remarked.

"Sounds like a good plan...do it."

Johanna held her breath as she pushed down the handle. The door opened and no alarms sounded. "We're in," she whispered.

He turned casually and slipped back into the shadows and through the door with her. She guided it shut and it closed with a soft click. "This way," she murmured, leading the way across the dim length of the hallway to the elevator. She pressed the button, the sound of the elevator springing to life, filling the quiet, still air of the building. The doors slid open and they stepped inside. Johanna hit the button for the sixth floor and they remained silent as the elevator rose to its destination. Jim had the flashlight ready when the doors opened into the darkened hallway and he clicked it on once they made sure no one was around. They followed the dull beam of light down the hallway to the door that Johanna indicated. She knew well enough that this door would be unlocked; her father figured that his waiting area and secretary's desk was safe enough and he only took care to lock the door that led to the inner office which was his own domain. They slipped into the office space and she led him to the door of her father's sanctuary.

"I hope you weren't lying when you told me you know how to pick a lock," she said softly.

"Pick the lock!" Jim repeated. "That's definitely straying into breaking and entering, Jo."

"We've come this far, we can't stop now!"

"I'm not prepared, I need a bobby pin to pick a lock."

Johanna plucked a pin from her hair. "Here you go."

"Jo...I'm probably out of practice."

She smiled. "I have faith in you, honey; go ahead."

A weighted breath crossed his lips as he fashioned the bobby pin into the tool he needed. She shifted on her feet but remained quiet as his first four attempts failed. Frustration flicked across his features as he sat about his fifth attempt. "You've got this," Johanna whispered. "You can do it."

Her faith in him made him concentrate a bit more as he didn't want to fail her. This time he succeeded and he pulled his sleeve over his hand before turning the knob. "Fingerprints," he murmured as she looked at him oddly.

She nodded. "Good thinking."

Jim left the door ajar as they moved into Frank's office; Johanna swiftly moving to his desk. "Hold the flashlight," she told him as he came to stand by her.

He took the light and kept it trained on the desk as she looked through the papers and notes that were neatly stacked on the desktop. He took note of the shadowy figures of picture frames on the big mahogany desk she was searching and he allowed the beam of light to travel toward them. There was a picture of Naomi and Frank, and then a picture of a little boy that he assumed was Frankie.

"Jim," Johanna chastened and he moved the light back to the items she was studying, curiosity gnawing at him about the remaining photos. His curiosity got the better of him and the light slowly slid back to the pictures; finding the photo of Frankie, Valerie and Greg that Johanna had at her apartment. The next photo was a little girl, but she didn't look like Johanna. Colleen, he assumed and that theory appeared proven when the next frame yielded a wedding photo of her. There was one frame left and when the light hit it he knew without a doubt that the dark haired girl peering back at him was the one he had been searching for. He judged her to be about eleven or twelve in the photo; obviously a snapshot taken at a beach. Her head was tilted, a look of happiness on her face as she smiled up at the camera, a hand raking back her windblown hair that had obviously come loose from the barrette that was holding it up. It reminded him of the picture he had taken of her on the beach, which now resided on his nightstand.

"Jim!" she hissed. "I need the light here, not on the pictures."

"How old were you on that picture?" he asked; shifting the light back to where she needed it.

"Eleven."

"Why is there only one of you and two of the others?"

"Because I'm not married...and there isn't any more room."

"Are you finding anything?"

"Not yet," she answered as she reached for Frank's planner and opened it to the current month. She looked through the list of appointments and took note of a certain notation on each Thursday. "L; The B.M. Club; 7:00 pm."

The memory of the matchbook flicked through her mind and she began leafing back through the calendar, seeing that these appointments had begun back in mid July. She was about to make a comment about the findings to Jim when they heard the ding of the elevator. Her eyes grew wide as they met his; "Someone's coming!" she whispered in a panic as she closed the planner. Jim clicked off the flashlight, plunging them into the shadowy darkness as they scrambled; running into each other twice as they tried to find a hiding place.

Johanna moved to dive under the desk but Jim caught hold of the back of her jacket. "Not there," he whispered, dragging her across the room to the closet. He opened the door and pushed her in, stepping in behind her and pulling the door shut as footsteps grew near. They slid back further into the suffocating darkness of the closet, keeping as quiet as possible. Johanna hated the confined feeling but was comforted as Jim slipped an arm around her and pulled her close to him. The visitor entered the office and they heard the person rustling the papers on the desk. If it was her father, he'd realize at any moment that the door had been ajar...that his planner was out of place. This was so not good.

Frank McKenzie Jr. had his own suspicions about his father's recent behavior and after a conversation with his wife about some statements that his mother had made, he had decided that he'd have to do a search for clues about what was really going on, but as he shuffled through the papers, it dawned on him that he hadn't had to use his key to enter his father's office. He also realized that Frank's planner wasn't in its usual place...and there was the light scent of floral perfume in the air...a scent that reminded him of his sister. "Who's in here?" he demanded loudly and firmly.

Johanna stiffened at the sound of the voice, mistaking it at first for her father's but when he spoke again; some of the tension left her body. "You better come out on your own!" her brother demanded. She slipped away from Jim and fumbled with the door knob and opening the door. "Frankie?" she said as she stepped out of the closet.

"Jo? What the hell are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I asked you first," he remarked as Jim stepped up behind her. "Your boyfriend is here too?" Frankie exclaimed. "What the hell, Sis? You've got closets at your place if you're going for that kind of vibe."

"Frankie," she hissed; "It's not like that! I'm here looking for clues."

"For what?"

"That Dad's having an affair."

"You think he's having one too?" he asked.

She eyed him the best she could in the dimness of natural light. "You think he is?"

"I have my suspicions."

"Good," Jim remarked. "This seems like a brother-sister project the two of you can do together."

"No, no, no," Frankie remarked. "It's better for Jo to do it."

"Why?" Jim asked.

"Because I work here," her brother stated. "If Jo does it, I can act oblivious if something's out of place."

"Why do you have suspicions?" she questioned.

Frankie quickly explained about some of the comments that Valerie had made and he mentioned that he had noticed their father acting somewhat oddly and that he was staying at the office more than usual.

"Who was Dad here with tonight?" Johanna asked; unconcerned about the semantics of who should do what as she focused on the suspicions that everyone clearly had. "I saw him walk out with someone and it wasn't Bess."

"Bess hasn't been here since May," her brother told her. "She's taking time off to tend to her mother. Dad has a temporary secretary."

"Does Mom know this?"

"I'm getting the feeling she doesn't…because I'm sure she would've told you about it if she did; and I'm positive that she wouldn't like this woman. Hell, I don't like her myself."

"Why not?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, there's just something about her that gets under my skin."

"What's her name?"

"Lavinia," he answered.

"L," she said aloud, thinking of her clues. "L is for Lavinia. What do you think now, Mr. rational reasoning?" she asked as she shot a glance at Jim.

"I think you still have some work to do," he responded.

She glared at him and then shifted her gaze back to her brother. "What's her last name?"

"I don't know."

"How can you not know!" Johanna exclaimed.

"Because I don't recall being told," Frankie retorted; "And besides, when you get that first glimpse of her, you're not thinking about her name."

"Oh?" she said as she arched a brow. "What are you thinking?"

"You're thing 'wow, those are some really big…" he trailed off, searching for a word that wouldn't offend his sister.

"Assets?" Jim supplied.

"Yeah," Frankie agreed with a nod. "Assets."

Johanna rolled her eyes. "What is with you men and your obsession with big…assets?"

Frankie shrugged. "I don't know…they're there?"

"And if they're there, we may as well enjoy the view," Jim added with a laugh.

Her brother laughed with him. "Exactly; it would be wrong not to."

Johanna glared at both of them and they stifled their amusement and mutual agreement about the topic. Jim, feeling as though he was in hot water, rushed to save himself. "I appreciate all women," he remarked; "Especially you, Jo. There's nothing wrong with your assets; everything's just right on you. I mean I've seen you in a bikini and you couldn't look any better…you're fantastic in a bikini…you're fantastic in everything really; but bikinis especially…there's nothing like that."

Frankie slammed a hand into Jim's shoulder. "Hey, man, that's my baby sister you're talking about!"

"I was directing the comments to her," he replied.

"But I'm still hearing it! I don't want to hear about her assets! That's just wrong…I don't want to hear anyone talking about my baby sister like a piece of prime rib, either."

"Knock it off both you," Johanna interjected. "Jim, I appreciate the compliment even if you are trying to save your own ass. Frankie, technically, Colleen's your baby sister and if you think hearing about my assets is bad; you should've heard the things I was forced to listen to on Saturday!"

Jim chuckled. "Tell him, Jo…tell what you heard about your grandmother."

Her brother's face blanched. "Don't tell me, I have a feeling I don't want to know."

"Oh no, I'm telling you," she stated. "Grandma has a lover!"

"Oh my God!" he exclaimed; his face contorting in distress. "I hate you so much right now for even saying the words grandma and lover in the same sentence! Tell me you're lying!"

"I am so not lying! Mom told us; ask Valerie; she was there, she'll tell you."

"This is terrible," her brother said with a shake of his head.

"You think that's bad; Mom also told us how long it's been for her and Dad, which is why this rumor of an affair is going around in the family."

Frankie groaned. "Valerie heard all of this?"

"Oh yeah."

"It's no wonder she turned me down all weekend."

Johanna nodded. "No one's having sex in this family."

"Except your grandmother," Jim reminded them.

"And maybe Colleen," she added.

"Oh God, make it stop," Frankie pleaded. "What the hell is wrong with this family? How did this happen?"

"Apparently it's Dad's fault," she stated.

Frankie pointed a finger at her. "Well you just get to the bottom of it!"

"You could help!"

"It's better if you do it. You're the one that spent your childhood reading Nancy Drew, now show us what you learned, Mouthy."

"I say let's get whatever it is you're looking for and get the hell out of here before anyone else shows up," Jim commented.

"That's a good idea," Frankie stated. "I'm just going to go ahead and go since you're on the case, Nancy. Keep me posted."

"Frankie," she hissed. "The least you could do is go make copies of Dad's calendar for me while I search the rest of the desk!"

"What do you need copies for?"

"Evidence!"

"Fine; but then I'm out of here."

"Chicken," she replied; clucking at him for emphasis.

Her brother snatched up the planner and flashed her a certain hand gesture which she returned, much to Jim's amusement. "I can't believe you just did that," he laughed once Frankie had left the room.

"What can I say, he's my brother, he brings out the worst in me," she replied as she started going through the drawers. She snagged another matchbook, taking it this time instead of leaving it where she found it.

Frankie returned a few minutes later, handing her the copies of the planner's pages and then he fled; leaving her and Jim behind, calling out a warning as he went that the cleaning crew would be due in within the half hour. She finished up her search of her father's office and made sure everything was back in its proper place. They relocked the door and then she moved to the secretary's desk. "What are you doing now? We're running out of time."

"I'm trying to get information about this secretary!"

"We have to get out of here."

"Give me a minute," she insisted as she looked at the items on the desk.

Johanna didn't find anything that would give her a last name for Lavinia which frustrated her as she was desperate to know if the woman's last name was Fletcher. Well, she'd have to get to the bottom of that tomorrow. "I'm done here, let's go."

They left the office and made their way back to the elevator, staying quiet as they returned to the first floor. She folded the pages her brother had given her and shoved them into her pocket as the elevator doors slid open. They headed for the glass door that they had entered through but when Johanna pushed against it, it wouldn't budge. "Son of a bitch," she muttered.

"What?" Jim asked with trepidation.

"My jackass brother locked the door."

"So unlock it."

"I can't, he locked it from the outside! I'm going to kill him!"

"You mean we can't get out of here?" he asked.

Johanna leaned her forehead against the glass; "Not through this door."

"What about the back door? He said the cleaning crew would be coming in."

"It's locked, and as soon as they come in and the door shuts, it'll be locked again…it's not like we can be standing there when they get here."

"Well Nancy Drew, what's you're next idea?" Jim asked.

She shot him an icy look. "That's Bonnie to you…we'll just have to…"

"Shhh," he shushed as he heard a noise.

Johanna fell silent as she listened; hearing the sounds of the cleaning crew moving into the building. They were early…of course, because that was how her life went. She grabbed Jim's arm and pulled him toward the door of the stairwell. He glimpsed the glow of an exit sign and he tugged her in the direction of it. They pushed against it but it didn't budge. "This place is locked up tighter than Fort Knox," he muttered. "Isn't this a safety violation?"

"I don't know…if he's cheating on my mother, you can bet I'll place an anonymous tip to the board about possible violations here."

"Why wait? He probably deserves it for one reason or another…like putting you in this position in the first place…and me too."

She gave a soft laugh. "True; okay; I'll turn him in this week."

"What about a fire escape?" Jim suggested.

Her face paled at the thought of it. "We'd have to go back to the main floor and take the elevator back upstairs."

"So?"

"So the cleaning people are here! They spread out and we don't know which floors they're on! We can't take that risk."

"Do you have a better idea?" he asked; "Or do we just sit here and wait for the cleaning crew to leave?"

Johanna sighed. "Let's go down to the basement."

"Is there a door down there?"

"No; but there's windows. Maybe we can get out one of them."

Jim looked skeptical but gestured for her to lead the way. The basement was nearly pitch black, forcing him to click the flashlight back on. "There's a problem with these windows, Jo."

"What?" she asked in annoyance.

"Well for starters, they're pretty high up!" he exclaimed, gesturing as if it should be obvious. "And second, they're street level! If we go crawling out of them and onto the sidewalk and someone sees us, we're going to be busted; and the way our luck goes; it'll be by that cop!"

"That's why we go out the back windows into the alley!" she retorted. "You really do think I'm stupid, don't you?"

"No! But I will admit that it looks like you didn't think this through at all. If you had, you would've had a better plan!"

"Sometimes you just have to play the cards you're dealt," Johanna retorted. "Now come on; we can figure this out."

He sighed heavily but followed her to the back of the basement where she stood and surveyed the high window. "Can you reach it?" she asked.

Jim stretched his arm as far as he could, managing to only hit the narrow windowsill. "I can't reach it too well," he told her. "I definitely can't unlock it if that's what you were hoping."

"That's what I was hoping," she said with a resigned breath. "Okay, plan B; boost me up."

"Alright," he said as he laced his fingers together to form a foothold for her.

She placed her hands on his shoulders and put her foot in his hands. "On three," she told him. "One...two...th...Jim!" she squealed as he hoisted her up before she was quite ready which startled her and caused her to loose her balance, which sent her crashing down. "I said on three!"

"You were on three!"

"I only got out the first syllable!" she retorted sharply as he helped her up. "I wasn't ready!"

"Sorry; let's try it again."

"When I'm ready, I'll say now," she told him.

"Good idea," he stated as he once again held out his hands for her foot.

She took a moment to get her bearings and gave a nod as she said "Now." He boosted her up with a little more momentum than she needed, her hands smacking against the glass of the window as she caught herself. Johanna got her bearings once more and grabbed the small handle and tried to twist it. "Oh God," she muttered; the handle not budging an inch. It must not have been open in years, which seemed likely given the musty smell of the basement. She tried again, putting more effort into the action. Still nothing. She kept trying, the handle finally giving the slightest bit but not enough to unlock and release the window. She blew out a frustrated breath as leaned her head against the glass, feeling sweat beading along her hairline.

"Come on, Jo; you're getting heavy," Jim mumbled; his hands losing their grip on her as his palms dampened with sweat.

"Don't you drop me," she warned half heartedly as she worked the handle again, succeeding in creating a squeaky sound as it budged a little more.

"Hurry up, sweetheart."

"I'm trying." She finally got the handle to give way, the window flying open just as Jim's grip gave away, sending her crashing down into him. He fell backwards, breaking Johanna's fall as she landed against his chest. They both groaned at the impact. "You okay?" she asked.

"You're laying on top of me, what could be wrong?" Jim replied.

She gave a short laugh. "I see your sense of humor is intact."

"So is the rest of me...but I think I'm going to feel it tomorrow."

"You and me both, but at least I got it open."

"Now we just have to get through it," Jim remarked as she moved off of him; holding her hand out to him to help him up.

"You'll have to boost me back up so I can go through it."

"How am I getting out?" he asked.

"We'll have to find something for you to stand on so that you can get a hold of the window sill and pull yourself up; I'll help pull you out."

It didn't sound like the best plan but he didn't have any better ideas so they spread out to look for something that he could stand on once he had her out the window. They disregarded the boxes that would crush beneath his weight and the pieces of wood that were scattered about. It would take too many pieces to build a platform worth anything and they were all different sizes and shapes. Finally, Jim grabbed a bucket; "This will have to do," he stated. "I'll turn it over and stand on it."

"I don't know if that's going to work."

"I'll make it work," he proclaimed. "Come on, let's get out of here. We have to work in the morning, you know."

She nodded while groaning internally. He hoisted her back up to the window and she pulled herself up and out the window with as much assistance as he could give her. Johanna wanted to cry with relief as she breathed in the crisp October air while sitting in front of the window. "Okay, Jim, your turn."

He nodded and turned the bucket over and climbed on it; grabbing hold of the window sill and trying to pull himself up as the bucket wobbled under him. Johanna reached in and grabbed hold of him by the lapels of his jacket and began to pull. "I'm losing my grip," he muttered, pushing his foot against the wall as he tried to get better leverage. This shouldn't be so difficult, he thought to himself, but then again, it may as well be, the whole night felt like a comic disaster.

"Hold on to me," she suggested; "Maybe it'll help."

He grabbed hold of her jacket as she pulled with a little more zeal and together they got him through the window, Johanna losing her balance and sprawling onto her back in the alley, dragging Jim with her as she kept hold of him. "This keeps happening," he said as he landed on top of her this time. "I think the universe is trying to tell us something."

"Like what?" she asked.

"I think it's telling us to get a room so we can be more comfortable in this position."

Johanna scoffed. "Get off me."

"Wow, we really are pretend married," he responded with a grin. "You're acting like a wife again."

"And you're being a husband and not taking 'get off me' for an answer."

"I can't get off you, you're holding on to me."

"Oh," she said as she released her hold on his jacket. Jim moved off of her and got to his feet, offering a hand to her to help her do the same. She brushed herself off the best she could and then took his hand as he led her out of the alley. "I don't think I've ever had so much trouble sneaking out of a place."

"Me neither," he replied. "Next time, we go in during business hours when the doors are unlocked."

"Deal," she said as they crossed the street and made their way back to the car.

"Oh God," Johanna said once she was settled into the passenger seat of Jim's car.

"What?"

"We forgot to close the window."

"We're not going back!" he exclaimed; turning the key and starting the car. "Just forget it."

She nodded. "I'll call Frankie in the morning and tell him to sneak down there and close it."

"Now that's one of your better ideas. I'm afraid to ask what's in store for us tomorrow night."

"I'll let you know in the morning...that way you can sleep easy tonight."

Jim smirked at her. "You mean once I down some Advil? Because I feel like I was in a fight and lost."

"Don't feel bad, so do I," she replied. "I wish I could call in sick tomorrow."

"You and me both."

Jim knocked on Johanna's door the next morning, feeling a little stiff from their basement adventures at McKenzie – Thorton Industries. He really hadn't anticipated having so much trouble getting out a window…but when you anticipated little, that was when things liked to kick your ass it seemed. His colleague answered the door looking a bit frazzled for so early in the morning.

"I'll be right with you," she said. "I have my brother on the phone."

He gave a nod and stayed quiet as she hurried back to the stand and picked up the receiver of the phone. "I'm here," she told her brother as she returned to her call. "No, I don't think I found anything useful but I have some things to check into. You need to find out Lavinia's last name."

Jim strained to hear Frankie's response but couldn't make it out; Johanna's expression however conveyed that it hadn't been the answer that she wanted. "You have two little jobs!" she exclaimed; "Close a damn window and find out someone's last name. What is so hard about that? All you have to do is go up to her and ask her name and when she asks why, if she even does, then you make up something stupid like you thought maybe she was the sister of someone you went to school with. If you can work it in, find out anything else you can too."

He couldn't help smiling as he watched her expression take on a multitude of annoyed looks while she listened to Frankie. "I can't do it! She doesn't know me and I want to keep it that way for the time being and besides, I have my own job! You're in the same building with them all day; make yourself useful and find out something and report back to me! For God's sake, I have to do everything!"

Jim suppressed a laugh as she rolled her eyes. "Just close the damn window and find out the last name then, okay? I have to go, Jim's here to take me to work."

He picked up her jacket for her so that she could slip into it when she was ready. "No, he didn't spend the night!" she exclaimed, bringing his gaze back to her face. "Not that it's any of your business if he did!"

This time he laughed; he just couldn't help himself and Johanna shot him an exasperated look as if he wasn't helping matters. He shrugged and she gave him a hint of a smile as she ignored whatever it was her brother was saying and told him goodbye, hanging up the phone unceremoniously.

"Off to a rough start this morning, Sassy?" Jim asked as she moved toward him and slipped into the jacket he held for her.

"I think if you want to get down to it, I've had a rough start since birth," she remarked.

"It can't be all that bad, can it?" he asked. "Big brothers are supposed to tease and annoy; it's their job."

"I know; I'm well versed on that subject. I've been teased, tormented, beat up, lied to, blamed, and any number of other things throughout the course of my childhood…and adulthood as well."

"I think you hold your own with him pretty good."

"Yeah, I guess so…of course age has mellowed us some."

"Has it?"

"It's either that or he knows he can't go too far or he'll lose a competent back up babysitter."

Jim eyed her. "Like you'd ever say no to keeping Greg no matter what."

She laughed. "You're right, I'm a sucker for that kid, nothing could keep me from him."

"That's not a bad thing," he remarked as she grabbed her things and they exited the apartment.

"No, I guess it isn't," she agreed. "How are you this morning? Did I do any damage by falling on you last night?"

"I'm fine," he assured. "How about you?"

"I've improved from feeling like I was on the losing end of a fight. This morning it feels more like it was a tie."

Jim brushed a hand against her back. "Well how about I buy you lunch today? Would that help make you feel better?"

"Yes, I think it would," she smiled. "I'll have time for a longer break than usual; I don't have any afternoon appointments until 1:30."

"Good; then we'll take our time."

"I'll probably need it; I'll be in court all morning," Johanna told him.

"I'll be there tomorrow."

She sighed. "We should've stayed in North Carolina."

He smiled at her. "Believe me; I've had the same thought a time or two myself."

Johanna appeared in Jim's office for their lunch date, wearing a slightly uneasy expression.

"Is something wrong?" he asked as he put on his jacket.

"No, not really, but about our lunch…"

"You need to take a rain check?" he questioned, disappointment filling him.

"No," she said hurriedly. "My mother was on the phone when I got back to my office and she invited me over for lunch. I told her I already had plans with you and she told me to bring you along…"

Jim wasn't sure how he felt about this, on one hand at least she wasn't trying to keep him from her family, as he sometimes felt like she was, but on the other hand he felt unsure about the idea. "Do you want that?" he asked. "Or would you rather go alone?"

"I don't mind you going with me, it's just her there…and I don't want to pass up our lunch date. I also didn't want to tell her no…I feel like she needs me and I…I don't know. I just couldn't say no."

Jim pondered the idea for a moment. He supposed it wouldn't be so bad to have lunch with her mother. After all, Johanna had spent time with various members of his family. The idea probably wouldn't feel so odd if it wasn't for the fact that he had been helping Johanna with her self proclaimed mission to find out what Frank McKenzie was up to.

"She has leftover fried chicken," Johanna remarked an enticement.

He smiled. "Then what are we standing around here for? Let's go."

"Are you sure? Because if you don't want to go, I understand."

"Of course I want to go. The only thing better than hot fried chicken is cold fried chicken," he stated as they left the office.

"I'm sure you'll be pleased in that case and don't worry, I made her promise to be on her best behavior."

"Was that really necessary?" he teased.

"Always," Johanna answered. "And even with the promise, you should still expect at least one thinly veiled hint at marriage."

"I can handle it," he told her. "I'll just always be too busy chewing to answer."

She laughed, if he only knew how many had tried that and failed.

Johanna had to give Jim credit, if he felt any trepidation about walking into her childhood home he didn't show it. He accepted her mother's enthusiastic greeting of them with warmth and kindness, and his hand was gentle as it fell to the small of her back as they followed Naomi to the kitchen where she already had the table set for them.

She also noted that things were arranged so that she and Jim would be sitting side by side while her mother would clearly be taking the seat across from them. This was not a typical Naomi McKenzie seating arrangement. No, this was the arrangement of a woman who was sizing up the potential of a match…looking to see how good they looked together, how they acted with each other. She couldn't chasten her for it, to do so would draw attention to the matter and she figured that Jim's attention was better focused on the platter of chicken that was sitting on the counter.

"I'm so glad that the two of you could come over for lunch," Naomi stated as she moved the platter to the table.

"I'm glad to be invited," Jim remarked as he snatched a piece of chicken and put it on his plate.

Johanna gave a soft short laugh as she got the drinks. "Jim's always up for a free meal."

"Bachelors usually are," Naomi replied, pulling a bowl of potato salad from the refrigerator and putting it on the table as well. She added some rolls that she had warmed up and then she moved back to the stove where she had gravy warming, while Johanna returned to her seat.

"I'm surprised you waited," Johanna commented, glancing at his plate which still held his piece of chicken along with some potato salad and a roll.

"I don't want your mother to think that I don't have any manners," he replied with a grin.

"I see," she remarked; "You only don't mind if I don't think you have any."

"You'd never think that," he laughed as he looked around the room while she filled her plate. "This is where you grew up?"

"This is it," Johanna confirmed.

Naomi smiled as she brought a small plate to the table containing a roll that she had split open and poured gravy over. "Here, Bambina, I know how much you like warm gravy bread in the fall."

"What's a Bambina?" Jim asked after biting into his chicken and swallowing.

"A nickname," Johanna answered, opting for a bite of her gravy bread first.

"It's Italian for baby," Naomi informed him as she settled in across from them. "She's my baby."

"Colleen's the baby," her daughter stated.

"You're all my babies."

"You're just her favorite baby," Jim said lightly.

"Of course she is," her mother grinned.

"She tells all of us that we're her favorite," Johanna remarked.

"Well then she's only lying to two of and I doubt it's you."

Her mother laughed, enjoying the sight of her eldest girl with the man she had practically admitted to loving. "You know, Johanna took her very first steps in this kitchen," she said as she caught Jim's eye.

He smiled. "Did she?"

Naomi nodded. "Right over there," she said, pointing to the area near the back door. "I was getting things washed up after dinner that evening and she managed to get herself up on her feet and she took a few toddling steps…and then she fell down and managed to bump her head in the process. She cried, and oh was she mad," she recalled.

Jim chuckled. "I can imagine that; she does have a bit of a temper."

"Yes she does, she gets that from her daddy."

Johanna glanced at her. "Oh I don't know, I seem to recall you throwing a coffee mug against the wall one day when you were in a snit about something."

Naomi waved a hand. "Oh that, that was nothing; trust me, she gets it from her father. Anyway, she got that stubborn look on her face, which is another thing she gets from her father…"

"Don't insult me while I'm eating."

"Oh hush, you do get that look from him…and that's not the only one."

"How about this one?" Johanna asked, giving her an unamused expression.

"No, that one you get from your grandmother."

Jim laughed and she easily glided her foot sideways to smack into his ankle.

"As I was saying, she got that stubborn look on her face and she got back up and she made it across the floor, all the way to here," Naomi said as she pointed to a spot behind her. "She was very determined to get moving…of course, at the time; her brother was taunting her with a cookie so that might have motivated her somewhat."

"Mother," she whined as Jim laughed. "No stories."

"You didn't say anything about not telling stories."

"I have now."

"I hope that potato salad is alright," Naomi commented as she saw Jim scooping up a bite on his fork. "I don't think my dressing was up to my usual standards."

"It's fantastic," he told her; "Much better than my mother's. Hers is always kind of runny and soup like."

"Hmm, she must chop things up too small and thins the dressing too much."

"Rumor has it that she can't fry chicken either," Johanna remarked.

"It's true," Jim confirmed; "She can't, it burns every time."

"Maybe she lets the skillet get too hot," Naomi suggested. "Johanna knows how to make fried chicken. I taught her that a long time ago."

"I know," he answered. "I've had her fried chicken, it's incredible."

"Oh?" she said with a raised brow, her gaze darting to her daughter. "It's nice to know that you've been entertaining, darling."

"Mother," she warned but the older woman only smiled. "My Johanna was a wonderful student in the kitchen; she mastered everything that I threw at her. She's an excellent cook."

"You won't get any argument about that from me," Jim replied. "I think she's a great cook too."

"Your brother called me earlier," Naomi said as she redirected her attention to Johanna.

"Oh? What kind of sunshine did he have to spread around today?"

"He told me that a rat got into your father's office."

She and Jim both momentarily paused in their eating, not daring to look at one another as Johanna wondered if rat was a code name her brother was using for her. "A rat?" she asked.

"Yes; apparently it was waiting in front of the door to your father's office…he wasn't pleased with the visit."

Johanna smirked. "Well the rat probably thought Dad was his leader and he dropped by to pay his respects."

"Johanna," her mother mildly chastened.

She shrugged. "Hey, it could be true. What else did Frankie tell you?"

Her mother avoided the question, shifting her focus back to the man sharing their table. "Do you have any siblings, Jim?"

"Four," he answered. "Three brothers and one sister."

"Older or younger?"

"Michael and William are older than me and Andrew and Madelyn are younger."

"Ah, so you're in the middle like Johanna."

He nodded. "I guess so."

"What does your father do?"

"He's vice president of a bank downtown. His name is Robert."

"And your mother?"

"Her name is Elizabeth…she's spends her time driving my father crazy, driving her children crazy, and working on driving her grandchildren crazy. When she's not doing that, she's burning chicken, trying to arrange marriages, and goes to her garden club and plays bridge."

"Oh my," Naomi said in amusement. "Sounds like you have quite a character on your hands."

Jim nodded. "We love her anyway."

"Of course you do," she replied. "Just as my children love me anyway…I'm sure Johanna could think up a list like yours to describe me."

"I save my listings for Dad," Johanna remarked.

"Speaking of your father, dear; if you wanted to get into his building, you could've just asked me for the spare key. I would've given it to you and then you wouldn't have had to climb out a window…and then leave it open for a rat to get through."

"Damn that Frankie!" Johanna exclaimed. "I'm going to get him for this."

"He only told me, not anyone else," Naomi replied.

"I knew you didn't think it through," Jim remarked. "If you had thought it through, you would've gotten the key and…" he trailed off, realizing that he had just outed himself as her co-conspirator.

Naomi gave him an amused smile. "Tell me, Jim; how did my daughter rope you into this little secret mission?"

He stammered for a moment, glancing to Johanna for direction but she wasn't any help to him. "She's going to cook for me," he confessed.

"You went through all that for a free meal?"

He shook his head. "No, she's cooking for me for a whole week."

Her blue eyes flicked back to her middle child. "I don't know whether to be proud or ashamed."

Johanna shrugged. "Both?"

"I suppose that will do."

"So which part are you mad about?" Johanna asked. "The breaking in part or the having a partner in crime part?"

"I'm not mad," Naomi said; "I know you wouldn't share our business with just anyone, so I consider your friend to be practically family since rumor has it that you're with him all the time…"

"Not all the time," Jim hurried to say in her defense as she blushed and dropped her gaze to the table.

"Just for a two week vacation?" Naomi questioned; "In which you told people she was your wife?"

"Umm," he stammered, his eyes darting to Johanna in a panic.

"I didn't say I went on vacation with Jim," she declared.

"You didn't have to," the older woman stated. "I'm not stupid; I know how to read between lines. I know you; I know you wouldn't take off with just anyone and he was the most likely candidate. I also know you threw out that little line about telling people you were married to shock your father and sister during dinner that day but I could tell that you weren't lying."

"It was only once," Jim told her. "We needed to get in out of a bad storm and the woman wouldn't give us a room unless we were married. I swear nothing happened."

"That may be, but I don't like thinking that my daughter's reputation might be in jeopardy."

"It isn't," he proclaimed. "I didn't mention her name and it happened in Pennsylvania…we were almost to Maryland. No one knew us. Everything's fine."

"I thought we were talking about me breaking into Dad's office," Johanna stated; desperate to draw the attention away from the topic of their vacation.

"We'll get back to that," her mother said. "Jim, I like you and it's easy to tell that you care for my daughter a great deal. I know that these are modern times, that the rules I used to play by are now antiquated and out of style…but I would appreciate it if you'd show more caution in regard to her reputation. I raised her to be a lady and she is one, and I don't think you'd want black marks marring her name, now would you?"

"Of course not," he replied. "I promise that I'd never do anything to call her reputation into question."

"I should hope not. You seem like a nice young man and I know she thinks very highly of you. I'm also sure that she doesn't want me to be a position where I have to track you down and ask you your intentions."

"Mom!" Johanna exclaimed. "You promised!"

"I didn't ask him now; I said I would if I was put into that position."

Jim laughed despite himself. "Don't worry; there's nothing bad about any of my intentions concerning Johanna. After lunch I intend to drive her safely back to work and at the end of the day, I intend to drive her safely home. I also intend to help her wash the dishes after she cooks for me to fulfill her end of our bargain."

"I knew this was a bad idea," Johanna remarked. "I should've paid more attention to that big warning sign flashing in my head, but you sounded like you had been crying and I thought you needed me…and here you were setting me up."

"No," Naomi said with a shake of her head. "I honestly didn't mean to go down this road and I'm sorry, Bambina. I promised not to butt in too much in your personal affairs…but I'm a mother and accidents happen. You can stop squirming now, I'm done with that line of conversation; although it doesn't seem to have bothered Jim as he's on his second piece of chicken and eyeing up a third. I was crying earlier…it's not easy to think about my marriage being in this state of limbo."

"I know, Mama," she replied; feeling like she should be more understanding given the circumstances.

"Have you found anything, Johanna?" she asked quietly.

"Nothing I can back up yet but I have some things to check out. Did you know that Bess hasn't been in the office since May?"

Naomi looked at her in surprise. "No; Frank didn't mention that Bess wasn't there. Did she quit?"

"No, Frankie told me that she's out for awhile taking care of her mother and that Dad has a temporary secretary."

"I see," the older woman stated; an assessing look in her eyes. "What do we know about her?"

"All I know at the moment is that her name is Lavinia…and that she's younger than Bess."

"How young?"

"I don't know."

"Johanna."

"I'd say she might be a little older than Frankie, but I only saw her from a distance."

"Is that who he was working late with?"

"That's what I'm assuming…but I'm still investigating. I need a little more time. Don't worry, I'll get it figured out and if you come across anything, let me know."

Naomi gave a nod and then looked thoughtful. "I guess I've put a burden onto your shoulders and I didn't mean to, Johanna."

"It's not a burden," she assured. "You're my mother, I'd do anything for you…besides, your son and other daughter are a couple of cowards."

"That's true," Jim chimed in as Naomi laughed softly. "Frankie couldn't wait to run away last night."

"Yeah, you should've seen it…it was kind of like that time when you came home to find me and Colleen locked out of the house and when you beat on the door demanding to be let in, we heard him falling down the stairs in his hurry."

Her mother nodded. "I remember…and I don't think I ever got a straight answer about why he locked the two of you out in the first place."

"Oh I can tell you why, he had Trish Sanders up in his room and he didn't want us hanging around…especially since he wasn't supposed to have girls up there anyway."

"What!" Naomi exclaimed.

Johanna nodded. "Yeah; that's what it was, and when he heard you yelling, Trish climbed out the window and shimmied down the trellis. We didn't tell you because he threatened to shave our hair off in our sleep."

"You just wait until I talk to him again!"

Her daughter smiled. "Go get him, make him sorry."

"You can count on it."

Jim caught Johanna's eye and leaned closer. "I believe that was the sound of you getting even."

"Yes it was," she agreed. "Now he'll think twice the next time he blabs…because I have a whole arsenal of information on him to dole out."

"Before you take me home, there's something I need to check out," Johanna said at the end of the day.

"What?" he asked warily. "It's not another stakeout is it?"

"No," she replied as she pulled her scrap paper containing her notes from her pocket. "I need to check out this address I found."

That sounded harmless enough, he thought to himself. "Okay, read me the address and we'll go."

She did as he asked and he turned the car in the direction that they needed to travel in. There was a comfortable silence between them during the drive and she didn't feel inclined to break it until the building came in sight. "Valerie and I drove past here on Saturday out of curiosity."

"But now you have something else in mind?"

"Yeah, I need to find out who lives in this apartment."

"That should be easy enough," Jim remarked as he parked the car. "We'll just go in and look at the mailboxes."

Johanna smiled; it would be an easier endeavor than their stakeout had been. They got out and went into the building, casually looking around for the bank of mailboxes for the buildings residents.

"Over here," Jim said, his gaze finding the objects that they were seeking. They moved toward it casually, Johanna checking her note once again for the correct apartment number.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered as her eyes scanned the mailboxes. "None of these have a name on them!"

"I hadn't considered that possibility," Jim admitted as he too studied the boxes and found them to only be inscribed with the apartment number. "My mailbox has my name on it."

"So does mine," she said, her features hard with frustration. "I swear this is just going to be one of those weeks where everything in the world pisses you off all at once."

"I guess you could look and see if there's any mail in the box and see the name that way," he suggested quietly, moving closer to avoid being overheard even though they were alone.

"That's against the law," she whispered.

"So is searching someone's belongings without a warrant if you want to get technical…and breaking into a building after hours, and knowing the code does not cancel that out and you know it. Let's see, what else was there…my false statement to an officer about our martial status. We're not exactly being law abiding here, Bonnie."

"True," Johanna remarked. "Keep watch while I take a look."

"You got it," Jim replied, shielding her with his back while he kept a look out.

"Damn it," she exclaimed softly and he heard the soft sound of the small mailbox lid falling closed.

"Problem?"

"Yeah, there's no mail in there!"

"Maybe it hasn't been delivered yet."

"That would be my luck."

Jim dropped a consoling arm around her shoulders. "Well I guess you could always go up and knock on the door."

"And say what?"

He shrugged. "I don't know; say you're selling Girl Scout Cookies."

"Girl Scout Cookies are sold in February; this is October."

"Trick or treating?" he suggested; bringing a small smile to her lips.

"I don't think that would work."

"Were you ever a Girl Scout?" he asked; the question coming to mind due to her knowledge about when there cookies were sold.

"No, but Colleen was."

"Why weren't you?"

"I thought the uniform looked dorky," Johanna replied. "I hate to feel like I look dorky. My sister, on the other hand, has no concept of that and will wear just about anything."

Jim nodded. "I believe that, after all, I did see your maid of honor dress."

"Please," she said, raising a hand. "I'm still trying to forget."

"That's one of those memories that's seared into the brain, Jo."

"What am I going to do?" she sighed.

"Go knock on the door."

"I can't say I'm selling something, Jim. I don't have any prototypes to work with."

"Then knock on the door and say you're looking for Frank."

Johanna pondered that for a moment, her eyes lighting up with interest. "I kind of like that idea."

Her colleague gave her a grin and turned her toward the elevator. "Then let's do it."

She smiled as she pressed the button. "See, this is why I picked you to be my partner in crime; you're so smart and devious."

"I thought you picked me because of my charm and good looks."

"That too," she quipped while they boarded the elevator. "After all, who wouldn't want to spend so much time admiring this handsome face of yours."

"What about the rest of me?" he asked teasingly as she pressed the button for the floor they needed.

Her gaze raked over him appreciatively while the doors slid shut. "The rest of you is very nice too."

"Just very nice?" he asked, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her against him.

"Incredible," she said flirtatiously.

"Now you're lying," Jim laughed.

"I am not," she protested as she snuggled against his chest, her arms slipping around his back. "It's incredible to me…and you wouldn't doubt my word would you?"

"Never," he remarked as she raised her head to give him a sly smile. "What?" he asked.

"Get your hand out of my back pocket."

He gave her a wicked grin. "But it likes being there."

"I don't care," she laughed.

"My hand was cold; I was trying to warm it up."

"You were just trying to cop a feel while you fished for compliments," she remarked; an amused gleam in her eye.

"Can you blame me? I mean we're playing detectives…detectives are sometimes cops, so naturally coping a feel would come up."

"Uh huh," she said as she wiggled away from him, his hand slipping out of her pocket. "I think you just have a thing for my ass."

Jim grinned. "It's cute, I like it."

A short laugh crossed her lips as her cheeks burned. "Right."

"I'm not lying," he said, giving her a light pat on her backside.

"We are not having this discussion," she laughed as the elevator stopped and the doors slid open.

"Alright, but you're taking all the fun out of this."

She paused as they stepped off the elevator and stared down the hallway. "What's wrong?" Jim asked.

"I just thought of something."

"What?"

"What if he's in there?"

He hadn't thought of that when he suggested that she knock on the door. "Well…if he is, then you keep them here and I'll go pick up your mother and bring her back here and she can do whatever she sees fit to them while we wait for her in the hallway."

Johanna tapped her foot against the floor. "Or I could pick her up and you could keep them here."

"I think you'd be better at staging a hostage situation, Jo."

"Why?"

"You've got the temperament for it."

She eyed him. "Should I be insulted by that?"

"Not at all, I meant it as compliment."

"Mhmm."

"Swear to God."

"You better not be lying, I don't want that thunder bolt meant for you striking me accidentally."

"You have nothing to worry about…now go ahead…go knock."

Johanna took a breath and then marched down the hallway, looking for the right door. She found it and looked up the hallway at Jim and he gave her a nod. She knocked and then waited…and waited. She knocked a second time and once again no one answered.

A third knock went unanswered as well and she admitted defeat and headed back up the hallway, aggravation filling her once more. "The world is against me," she complained. "No mail, no one answers the door, no nothing! What the hell is this person, a ghost?"

"That would make your mother's life easier," he replied.

She tried to give him a smile but failed. "I'm all out of ideas for today."

He nodded. "See, you were happier when my hand was in your pocket."

This time she smiled. "If that's a hint asking me to let you put it back in there, forget it. You're already getting free meals out of this; we didn't say anything about cheap thrills."

"Well I guess if you want to be stingy like that."

"Maybe I'll be more generous tomorrow," Johanna replied as they got back onto the elevator.

He put his arm around her as the elevator descended back to the lobby. "Don't worry, things will work out."

"I wish I knew if the phone number I called belonged to this apartment. I also wish I knew who the phone number belonged to; all I got was the last name Fletcher. We couldn't find the number in the phone book…what if there's more than one woman he's seeing?"

"Then he's in even more trouble then we thought," Jim answered.

"Mom will kill him for sure," Johanna stated; "And she'll call me at midnight to come help her bury him under the rose bushes in the back yard."

"I guess you'll probably then call me to give you a ride over to help do that."

She nodded. "I don't think we'd be able to move the body alone…we'd probably need you to help us drag him out the door."

"Somehow I had that feeling…and I guess I wouldn't be able to say no to you."

"You could, I wouldn't hold it against you."

He scoffed but the sound was with amusement rather than scorn. "Sweetheart, you know I can't say no to you when you turn those pretty green eyes on me."

Johanna shrugged as she glanced up at him, a pleased smile touching the corner of her mouth. "Every girl needs a weapon."

"You sure do have one," he replied as they got off the elevator and left the building.

"I wish I knew someone who works at the phone company," she said as they got back into the car.

Jim sighed, he probably shouldn't do this…but he would. "I have a cousin that works at the phone company…he's been known to do me a favor or two."

Johanna looked at him hopefully. "You'd do that for me?"

He nodded. "You write down the number for me and I'll get a hold of him tonight. It might take a day or so to find out, depends on when he can do it…but I'll ask."

She moved across the seat and wrapped her arms around him, a wide smile spreading across her face. "Thank you," she said happily before pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

"No problem, I am your accomplice after all."

She grinned. "Just for that, you can put your hand back in my pocket the next time we get on the elevator."

Jim laughed. "I love when we trade favors, Jo. Then we both come out winners."

...to be continued