Unlucky in Love
Chapter 2The next week was spent in a dizzying haze of excitement. He'd gotten a new case, a husband whose wife was cheating on him, and most of his time was spent keeping track of the errant spouse. What little there was of his free time was lavished on phone calls, lunchtime walks, and brief but delightful evening meetings with Connie. She was as bright as she was beautiful, and he wanted to spend every spare minute with her. She seemed to feel the same about him.
When his case finished and he presented a detailed accounting of the wife that had gone astray to his client, complete with rather explicit photos, he went straight to Macy's and the girl he was rapidly falling in love with. She took her break and they spent the few minutes she got outside of the retailer, hiding behind the side wall of the building, in each other's arms. He told her the case was finished and she told him how proud she was of him, and their moments together ended in their first kiss. On his way to the bank afterward he was so thrilled that he walked right past it and had to turn around and come back.
They went to dinner that night, back to Chow Ling's, and celebrated . . . Stuart's successful case and their first anniversary. One whole week together. They were giddy with excitement, ordering plum wine with dinner. Afterward Stu walked Connie home. She lived a whole three blocks from him. There was another kiss at her door, and on his way home Stu seriously thought he couldn't be any happier.
An entire week went by before he received the phone call offering him another case, this one tracking down an errant ex-husband who had skipped out on paying his child support. There was only one problem . . . he would have to go to Trenton, New Jersey to try and find the missing man. He accepted the case and went home to pack his lone suitcase. Before making reservations with the train to take him there, he found himself at Macy's perfume counter.
"When's your break?" he asked the dark-haired beauty who had captured his heart.
"In five minutes," came the breathy answer.
"I'll meet you outside."
Five minutes later she was in his arms asking what was wrong. The look on his face told her something wasn't right.
"I got another case," he answered slowly.
"Why that's wonderful," she exclaimed.
"No, you don't understand. It's in Trenton."
"But you have to go."
"I . . . I don't want to leave you."
She smiled at him, trying to be as encouraging as she could. She didn't want him to leave, either, but she knew he had to take the assignment. "Is it an important case?"
"It is to me." He wanted to explain it to her, how his sister had been abandoned by her estranged husband in Los Angeles and had to move back in with their mother and father while she looked for him. He'd sworn that he'd never let another mother go through that if he could prevent it.
"Then you have to go. I'll be here when you solve the case and come back."
He kissed her. "I'll miss you."
She was hoping for more, but for now she was willing to settle for that. "I'll miss you, too. You can call me at night."
"Every night."
"Every night." She kissed him goodbye and watched him walk away from her until he was out of sight. How long would it be before he came back? she wondered.
XXXXXXXX
The train ride was long and dreary. It gave him more than enough time to ponder his situation. Here he was toiling for another established Private Investigator, working on his own in a sort of satellite office, and trying his best to keep his head above water. Now he was on his way out-of-town, leaving behind the only thing that mattered to him.
Trenton wasn't the most beautiful of cities, nor was it the friendliest. Stu found that out when he went to the missing father's last known address. He knocked on the manager's door and was met with a door opened maybe six inches. "Yeah?"
"Mrs. MacDonald?"
"Yeah?"
"My name is Stuart Bailey. I'm looking for one of your former tenants, Ron Brookfield."
"Whatta ya want him for?" The old lady looked at him like he had the plague.
"I have some personal property that belongs to him and I'd like to return it."
She opened the door another two inches and glared at Stu. "Don't live here no more."
"Did he happen to leave you a forwarding address, Mrs. MacDonald?"
"No." The door began to close and Stu stuck his foot in it.
"It's really important that I return this to him, ma'am. If you hear from him, could you have him contact me? I'm Stuart Bailey, and I'm at the Kingsman Motor Lodge."
"Yeah." This time the door did close and Stuart let it. He walked in the direction of the Motor Lodge until he could no longer be seen from the manager's office, then double-backed and took up a position across the street, where he was obscured by the building. He remained until dark, then headed back to his temporary residence.
The next morning he was back across the street from the manager's office, and somewhere around eleven o'clock a man knocked on the same door he'd tried to get information from. The visitor's description matched that of the ex-husband.
The manager's door was opened wide this time, and the suspect disappeared inside. Fifteen minutes later he was back out and headed east. Stuart waited until the man was almost out of sight, then followed him down the main road. The stranger stood at the bus stop for a good half-hour, and when the bus didn't come he started walking east again. Another mile or so down the road and the man presumed to be Brookfield made a turn into a small apartment complex. Stu hurried to the manager's office and was met with a man somewhat friendlier than the woman he'd encountered the day before.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes, sir, I'm looking for an old friend of mine. I moved and then he moved and we sort of lost track of each other. I went to the last address I had for him and the manager sent me here. His name's Ron Brookfield. Can you help me, by any chance? My name's Sammy, Sammy Westin."
"Come in, Mr. Westin. The name sounds familiar, but I need to check my rental books to be sure." The apartment was small and tidy. A gray cat followed Stu in the door and wrapped himself around the detective's legs, purring furiously. "Please, have a seat. This could take me a minute." No sooner had Stu taken a chair then the cat was in his lap. "Stormy, leave the man alone. He didn't come to see you."
"That's alright, I like cats." Stu scratched Stormy behind the ears and made a friend for life.
It took a minute but the manager turned from his books back to Stuart. "I thought the name was familiar. He hasn't been here long, but your friend is living in building 4, apartment 410."
Stormy found the floor and Stuart stood up. He extended his hand to the manager. "Thank you, sir. Please don't say anything to Ron, I want to surprise him. Thank you again."
It was easy to find building 4, and apartment 410 was on the second floor. Stu knocked on the door and when the door was answered by the man that fit Ron Brookfield's description, the private investigator looked genuinely surprised. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm looking for Candy Spangler. Does she live here?"
"Not anymore," Brookfield answered. "I've been here a month. She probably lived here before I did."
"Thanks. Sorry to bother you."
Stuart hurried down the stairs and headed back towards the Kingsman Motor Lodge. He passed a small diner along the way and stopped in to have a late lunch. By the time he got back to the place where he was staying, he called his client and told her where her ex-husband was living. Then he called the Sheriff's department and gave them Brookfield's address; they had an outstanding warrant for him, based on delinquent child support.
His obligations fulfilled, he collapsed on the bed. He wanted to call Connie but he couldn't keep his eyes open. After a nap, he promised himself. He was exhausted, and a short nap wasn't going to help any. Still, he drifted peacefully to sleep, dreaming of the girl with the dark hair and blue eyes that had captured his heart.