Chapter 5
Velma took advantage of the clock-watcher crowd mass exodus from the Riley downtown area at 5:00 PM to find a parking space within 100 feet of the bank's garage vehicular exit. She was in place by 5:15 with her water bottle, brown bag dinner, and two of her textbooks so that she could get a little ahead on class reading during lulls. She settled in.
After twenty minutes, she had found out that reading a physics book was really hard to do when you had to glance up from the page every few seconds to check for an exiting BMW. She propped up the textbook on the dashboard for a minute but felt conspicuous. So, she sat in the car alone with her thoughts. Which was okay as her thoughts could be pretty interesting, especially with so many generally positive things going on in her life.
She stopped herself and spoke aloud, "Don't jinx it."
But for the first time in years, she had a generally optimistic outlook and once again looked forward to those moments when she was relaxing and just coasting along within her own mind.
Which came to an abrupt halt when the subject vehicle came out of the garage and turned right on 8th. She took a deep breath as the training had taught and carefully checked oncoming traffic before pulling out. This was done successfully and without incident. She was now trailing a suspect. It was odd that all through the show, she had never actually had to do this. Not once. There had been car chases, although those were usually staged to spice up an otherwise boring show. And there had been stake-outs, which were frequently cut because watching a real stake-out was like watching paint dry. But never once had she been the driver and tried to tail someone without being seen. This was a new challenge. She couldn't help but be in a good mood. How long since that had happened?
Traffic was heavy in the peak of rush hour, but it slowed her target as much as it did her and she only had one brief concern when he passed through a light and got onto the interstate while she was caught waiting behind the subsequent red. Again, per the training, she took a deep breath as the car ahead of her began to pull forward and obeyed the rules of proper driving. No dangerous traffic maneuvers trying to catch up. She counted to two before starting and then passed through the intersection and up the onramp to the freeway which was bumper-to-bumper at this time of day. Her patience was rewarded by the sight of the BMW stuck in traffic ahead of her.
She had filled her tank before arriving at the bank and the temperature was such that air conditioning was not needed. The car was doing well and showed no signs of overheating. She kept going through her mental checklist of potential points of failure in the plan and kept coming up okay. That didn't stop her from a continuing listing of the items on those checklists over and over and over. Just because she was now generally optimistic did not cure her of the multiple anxiety disorders and obsessive/ compulsive disorders from which she suffered. It just made life more bearable with them.
After clearing the city center, traffic began to flow more smoothly and, by the time that they had reached the suburbs, she was able to maintain a steady and non-frustrating speed while keeping her target in sight.
He exited into Florence which was an upper middle-class area which was still inside the Metro Riley Area. It was posh but not Danforth 'Old Money' posh. She followed him as he turned right and then turned right into a new Planned Unit Development. It was a gated community and that could be problematic. There was a small model residential unit at the entrance. In front of the building were some plastic signs stuck into the grass which promised "Homes for Sale", "Have a Tour", and "No Appointment Needed."
She saw a possible plan and pulled in.
She walked up to the door which said, 'Office Hours: 9:00 to 5:00'. It was after 5:00 but she tried the door anyway and it opened. Skill was good but a little luck never hurt. She stepped inside and found someone sitting and watching the television in the model living room.
She turned on her best fake smile which was about 20% of a Daphne smile, "Hi."
The young man turned the television off and stood, "Can I help you?"
"I was wondering if maybe I could get a tour. My boyfriend and I are considering moving out in this area. We're tired of living downtown."
The salesman went professional, "Certainly, there are four basic floor plans in this development and this model represents the smallest at three bedrooms but I am afraid that we are already sold out of those. But there is another three-bedroom style with a bonus room, then there is a four-bedroom, and finally our deluxe model is a five bedroom. They all come with attached two-car garages although if you pre-purchase a deluxe model, there is an option for a three-car garage."
Velma perused some of the brochures spread around the room, "It's just the two of us so we don't need five bedrooms. What's the price range on the Three-bedroom with the bonus room?"
"Those start at $425,000."
"I see. What about the four-bedroom models?"
"They start at $450,000."
She nodded, "That works with what we are pre-approved for and I like the layout. Do you mind if I look around?"
"Technically, we're closed but you can look around while I'm finishing up. Here's my card."
She walked up to the second floor. The bedrooms were mundane, but the bathrooms were lavish. There was an upstairs laundry room. That was a nice feature. Now, for the big finish.
She returned down the stairs, "Given the prices we're seeing in Danforth – where my boyfriend wants to live, we can get a lot more house here. Can I take some brochures?"
"Certainly." He was now beginning to get just a little bit fidgety.
"How big are the lots?"
"They are all quarter acre lots."
"Oh dear."
"Is that a problem?"
"My boyfriend is big into outdoor things. A quarter acre is pretty small. The lots in Danforth are all an acre or more."
"But this development includes a network of parks and walking trails and it has its own lake which is stocked with fish. It also includes the clubhouse with indoor/outdoor Olympic-sized pool. There is no shortage of outdoor activities."
"This is probably going to be a dealbreaker for him. Is there any way that I can get a tour of the actual development so I can get some pictures of the parks, pool, lake and other amenities?"
And she hit paydirt, "I really have to go, but if you push 8-2-2-8 into the keypad at the entry, it will let you in and you can drive around and take all of the pictures you want."
"Thank you so much. And your name is?"
"I'm Lavell."
"Thank you, again, Lavell. I really don't want to live in Danforth. People are so snooty there."
"You won't find that here in Florence. This was just a country town before Riley grew out here. Things have kind of boomed since then. Good luck with your boyfriend."
He walked her out to the parking space and she pulled her car out, approached the gate, punched in the numbers, listened to the churning sound as the gate opened. Quarter-acre lots meant short driveways and cars near the road, but it also meant a lot of streets. She began driving in a search pattern through the orderly community. It took her about 15 minutes to find the BMW and the sun was just finishing setting. She drove by the house and turned the next corner to find a few spaces next to a sign which said 'trailhead.' The trail was really a bicycle path that followed the road.
She parked the car, got out, hoisted her backpack with her gear over her shoulder, and started walking confidently up the street. Her stride was relaxed as if she was enjoying an evening stroll either before or after dinner. Probably before since she was still young. The BMW remained parked in the driveway, and she turned and walked past it to the house, looking in her backpack as if she were trying to find her keys. But she walked past the front door and around to the side of the house. This one was larger than the model home and she guessed that it was probably the four-bedroom model. The next-door house was only about 10 feet away. With the houses so close together, there were no ground floor windows on the other house. There were three windows on the target house. Judging by distance, the first two were into the garage. She made her way down to the third and peered in. In the four-bedroom models, the master bedroom apparently was on the ground floor. And this was it. And inside the master bedroom was her target. And his mistress. Lights on. Clothes off. And making whoopie.
Her immediate reaction was to turn away, but her job made her turn back and pull out the camera. She started snapping pictures through the window. She was professional enough to make no sound but that didn't stop her brain from going fast and furious.
Omigosh.
Ewwww.
That can't be comfortable.
There is no way that can be comfortable.
Is all that noise real or fake?
The pictures were clear, in-focus, and provided both full-face and profile shots of both participants. There could be no confusion regarding exactly what was happening in them. She went through them twice and confirmed that she had everything she needed. She then packed up her gear and made her way back to the front of the house and scanned around before she exited from the side yard and walked confidently down the driveway. Stopping at the end of the drive, she put the camera in night mode and took pictures which showed the house, the numbers on the mailbox, and the car with license plate all in one shot. When done and satisfied with the shots, she put the camera back in her backpack and walked back to her car. She was now officially a private investigator.
And she really wanted to go home and take a shower.
But first, she should call her client and bring her up to speed. She dialed Sandra Redding's number and listened to it ring.
"Ms. Dinkley. Anything to report?"
"Yes ma'am. I'm afraid so. I have clear photographic evidence that your suspicions regarding your husband are valid. He is having an affair."
"Already?"
"Yes. He left work and went straight to 2112 Bellwood Way in Florence."
"That's a gated community. How did you get in there?"
"That's what you pay me for. Can we set up a meeting for tomorrow and I can give you copies of the evidence and a final bill?"
"Not just yet."
"Excuse me?"
"I didn't let you know everything. There is a pre-nup. And according to the terms, I have to document three separate incidents of adultery in order to… um… qualify for the maximum benefit. So, I will continue to pay your hourly rate and you keep following my husband and please get me time-stamped documentation of two more incidents."
"Okay. Sure. But please remember to send over the signed contract."
"Certainly. It's at the top of my things-to-do list."
"Would you like me to place the evidence on a sharepoint or dropbox location? I would rather not e-mail it."
"No. I think I can take your word for what you have seen and photographed. I have no desire to actually see it myself. Thank you again and excellent work. I have to run now. Bye."
And again the conversation terminated abruptly.
Fred had a good night at the hardware store selling two refrigerators and a dishwasher. Not bad for a Thursday night and the extra bonus money on the week was well-timed in terms of the mortgage being due. But the extra sales meant extra paperwork and had him running late picking up Daphne at the mall. When he got there, she was sitting on the bus stop bench with her head lolled back, her knees together, and her legs akimbo. She was sound asleep and snoring softly. But he would take that last part with him to his grave. A Blake woman does not snore.
Daphne tended to sleep soundly and Fred had experience waking her from a deep sleep. He got out of the car, walked around, and carefully positioned himself about eight feet away from her before gently saying, "Daphne?"
There was no change, so he tried again louder, "Daphne?"
In a flurry of motion, Daphne's right foot shot out at waist height looking for the standard male target at that height, her left hand shot out palm first on an upward trajectory searching for nose cartilage to smash, and then her right hand shot out looking for whatever her left hand had not yet smashed. Within a second, she was on her feet and in fighting stance.
Fred looked at her, "Ready to go home?"
"Yes." She picked up her purse and got into the car.
He put the car into drive and pulled away from the curb, "We haven't had a chance to talk today. How did the kidnapping case go?"
"Pretty well. I think we identified the kidnappers and their car and there are some other things I want to bounce off the group."
"Maybe we can do a group chat or something. Shaggy and Scooby should be finishing up at the restaurant about now and Velma doesn't ever seem to sleep. We'll try and set that up when we get home."
Daphne sat and looked out the window as the car passed through the familiar streets and neighborhoods on her route home. She was tired. No sleep last night, driving over to Danforth and Riley all day, and then rushing back to work her shift at the mall. But she watched the passing houses as they got closer to home with eyes that were wide open.
Well, no sense in putting of the discussion about a baby any further, "Fred, there's something else we need to talk about…"
Her sentence was cut off as they pulled up to their house. Shaggy's car was parked in the street out front and he, Velma, and Scooby were all sitting on the small stoop at the side door to the house. Daphne would be finishing that sentence some other day.
Fred pulled up into the driveway and parked. They got out and walked over to the stoop.
Fred started, "Hi gang. We didn't expect to see you here tonight."
Velma didn't move, "I've got stuff to report and was over at Shaggy's and, when he and Scooby got home from the restaurant, they decided to come along. I was just as happy to not drive. I put a lot of miles on the car today."
Daphne sat next to her, "You and me both. You look pooped. You should have taken a nap or something."
"Nope. Whenever I close my eyes, I see a replay of what I watched tonight playing on the inside of my eyelids. Sleep is not on the agenda until I am so tired that I fall over."
Fred worked the key into the side door which took a little jiggling to open, "Well, come on in. Anybody want coffee?"
"Coffee sounds good." Daphne stood and put her hand out to help Velma up. Velma handed her laptop to Shaggy and accepted the assistance.
The gang dragged into the living room while Fred began scooping grounds into the coffee maker. He spoke over his shoulder to Velma as she set up her laptop, "Sounds like you got what you went for tonight, Vel."
"I'm afraid so. And here it is." She pressed play on the video portion of what she had collected and stepped away from and out of sight of the screen.
Shaggy stepped up to where he could see and his mouth dropped open. Fred them stepped around and joined him and also went agape. Scooby was indifferent.
Fred spoke first, "That seems to prove what you wanted to prove."
Shaggy wasn't blinking, "And it proves a few more things, too."
Daphne stepped up, "Okay boys. Enough is…" She saw the screen and also stopped. Her head tilted slightly but, unlike the guys, she successfully kept her mouth closed, "Velma this is sort of artfully done. You seem to have a knack for it."
Velma shook her head violently, "I don't want a knack. I absolutely, positively, to the depth of my being do not want a knack."
Fred reached over and shut down the software snapping Shaggy out of his trance.
Fred looked at Velma, "Hopefully, there will come a time when we are established enough that we don't have to take wandering spouse cases. But, until that time comes, we are going to do those cases and all of our cases with professionalism and talent. That is what I just saw. Good job, Velma."
"Right. Rood job, Relma."
Fred continued, "Well, it looks like that case is pretty well closed."
Velma shook her head less violently, "It is not."
It was Fred's turn to tilt his head.
"I called the client and told her that I had the proof she needed of her husband's affair, and she told me that the pre-nup required that she prove three separate incidents. So, I have to keep trailing him until I can get two more liaisons documented."
Fred's head did not untilt, "That may be the strangest pre-nup language I've ever heard."
Daphne chimed in, "How many pre-nups have you been a party to?"
"Well, I read that one that your father wanted me to sign."
"Oh. Right. Never mind."
The marital discussion appeared over and Velma got back to business, "She told me to keep following her husband and she would continue to pay the hourly rate. So, given the zest with which they were going at it tonight, I don't imagine that it will take too long to get two more rendezvouses in the can."
"That's almost like repeat business already."
"Reah, repeat business."
"I guess." Velma was clearly not looking forward to the repeat performances.
Fred changed the topic by turning to Daphne, "Daph, you had a productive day."
It was Daphne's turn to open up her laptop, "Right. We have videos of the alleged kidnappers and their vehicle and those have been made available to the Danforth Police. But there's something I would like for you to look at." She brought up a picture of the footprints in the entry foyer. The next picture she showed was of the footprints going up the stairs.
Fred looked at his wife, "What are we looking at?"
"The first picture is the entry foyer where Robbie was attacked by the kidnappers. The second picture is the stairs to the second floor where Bettie's bedroom is. There are no footprints anywhere in the house except for the direct path from the front door to Bettie's bedroom."
Velma leaned in and looked closely at the pictures, "So, they knew the layout of the house and knew exactly where Bettie would be."
Daphne nodded, "Right. So, I sent the picture of the three alleged kidnappers to Amanda and she responded that neither she nor Robbie knew them."
Velma vocalized what everyone was thinking, "So, someone who knew the Blacks gave the kidnappers inside information."
Daphne nodded again, "The clues point that way."
Shaggy felt like he should say something just to join in, "Like, who are the suspects?"
Daphne glanced at her notes, "Well, Amanda and Robbie don't entertain too much so it's not a long list. There is Amanda herself who appears on the surface to have a detached relationship with her child and deliberately misrepresented her emotional issues to Robbie and his family until after the marriage. There's Robbie who I can't really get to know since his mouth is wired shut. Chastity Black has no children of her own and told me that Bettie meant everything to her. Robbie's parents were in France but they should be here soon and I will try to speak with them. Then there is the next-door neighbor who we actually know: Madame Lulu."
Fred remembered, "The gypsy fortune-teller?"
Daphne grimaced, "Roma."
Shaggy perked up, "That's it then. Case closed."
"What do you mean?"
"You have a stolen baby and a gypsy next door. Gypsies steal babies. That's all she wrote."
Everyone turned and looked at Shaggy.
"Raggy's a racist." Scooby announced.
Daphne looked aghast but Velma looked simply expectant.
Daphne spoke, "Please, please, please tell me that you don't actually believe that."
Shaggy smiled, "I don't actually believe that. I just want to make a point. You, Daphne, are a bleeding heart. It's one of the things we love about you. But I just want to make sure that you don't prematurely eliminate Madame Lulu as a suspect just because you don't want to confirm a stereotype."
Daphne opened her mouth to argue the point simultaneously with realizing that she had halfway convinced herself to do that very thing, "Fair enough. Any chance that you could go back to being a stoner? This sober, logical you is annoying."
"Nah. Why escape reality when reality is so darn good?" He leaned over and kissed Velma on the top of the head.
Scooby stuck his paw down his throat in a gagging gesture. Fred and Daphne joined him.
