Chapter 2

Daryl closed the folder containing his collection of information regarding Eugene Porter with his left hand, while pointing his revolver at the man in question with the right. "Come in, have a seat. I assume you're unarmed," Daryl gestured toward the chairs in front of his desk. He regarded the man in front of him with a wary eye. Eugene wore a slightly rumpled shirt under an obviously second-hand suit, baggy slacks, and worn shoes. His too-short tie, disheveled hair, and three-day stubble spoke volumes to Daryl.

Eugene took the proffered seat in one of the chairs. "Why are you following me, detective? And don't bother lying to me; I'm smarter than most people."

"Are you? Well, I wouldn't want to insult your intelligence." Daryl chuckled, with a hint of sarcasm as he set the revolver down. "I was hired to investigate you. It's what I do...says so on the door."

Eugene frowned. "Why? Who hired you?"

"I'm afraid that's classified information, I don't reveal the identities of my clients. I'm sure you can appreciate that." Daryl shrugged.

Eugene fidgeted in his seat for a minute, closely examining his fingernails before sheepishly asking, "Does this have something to do with Rosita Espinosa?" He watched as Daryl's eyes narrowed and the P.I. scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I see. Did she also tell you that she started following me first? I've been following her to see why she's following me."

"Why would she be following a complete stranger?" Daryl finally asked after glaring at the man for a long moment.

Eugene's brow furrowed. "What do you mean 'stranger'? I have a passing acquaintance with Ms. Espinosa. She's my appraiser's secretary. As you've no doubt learned from your investigation, I am something of a collector. Not too long ago, I came into possession of an heirloom that I had appraised. Ever since then, Ms. Espinosa has been following me. This brings me to why I've come here this evening. I would like to hire you to figure out why she's following me."

"Why not go to the police?" Asked Daryl.

Eugene quickly replied, "The police? In this city? No thanks, they've got a reputation."

"So I've heard. Alright, you've got my curiosity piqued. What did you have appraised and where is this appraiser's office?" Countered Daryl.

Eugene explained that he had inherited a samurai sword from an uncle and had it appraised. It turned out that it wasn't worth very much, so he collected the paperwork on it from the appraiser's office and gave the sword away to someone as a gift, but wouldn't say who, insisting that it was irrelevant. He gave Daryl the name and address of the appraiser and a note authorizing Daryl to see any paperwork that the appraiser may have on items he appraised for Eugene. After asking Daryl for a business card and slipping it into his pocket, Eugene made a down payment on Daryl's services and left.

Eugene put the key in the lock to his front door. He was suddenly aware of the quiet. There were no birds, no crickets, nothing but the sound of the key unlocking the tumblers. He quickly stepped inside, shutting and locking the door behind him. He reached for the nearest lamp. Not finding it where it should be, he groped around on the floor for it. The uneasy feeling that something was wrong turned into a cold chill that ran down his spine as he turned on the lamp. His living room was in complete disarray, it had obviously been ransacked. Eugene made a quick mental inventory of what thieves could have been looking for. A sudden sound of creaking floor boards, emanating from further in the house, snapped Eugene back to his current situation. He had just opened the front door to make his escape when a pair of strong hands grabbed him and pulled him back into the house. Another assailant, also clad in black clothes, closed the door and locked it. Eugene was tossed into a chair and the two men held a sturdy hand on each of his shoulders. A third man, similarly dressed, stepped out of the shadows and approached Eugene. He was fairly non-descript with short brown hair. The man squatted down to look Eugene in the eyes, smiling the entire time, and said, "Good evening Mr. Porter. My name is Gareth and I'm here for the Eye."

Eugene fidgeted a little, looking nervously between the men holding him down and Gareth. He gulped, "I-I don't know what you're talking about. What Eye?"

"Come on, Eugene...you don't really think I'm that stupid do you? We know you have the Eye of the Chupacabra. Just give it to us and everybody can be happy...well, I will be, anyway."

Eugene just shook his head in confusion and stammered. "What? I-I-I don't know what you're talking about, I swear.

"That is unfortunate," the man said as he rose, the smile slowly melting from his face. "I was so hoping we could resolve this amicably." He drew a knife from a sheath behind his back and started towards Eugene.

Less than twenty-four hours had passed since Daryl met with Eugene. He had visited Eugene's appraiser and made some discreet inquiries regarding Rosita. He was pacing back and forth as the orange rays of the setting sun shone through the slats of the blinds in his office. "So, Eugene inherits a sword, takes it to an appraiser, and suddenly the appraiser's secretary starts following him. Maybe she's after the jewel, that according to this file," he picks up the appraiser's file on the objects he'd looked at for Eugene over the last several years, "was hidden inside the sword." He plopped the file back down on his desk and continued pacing. "Then, he decides to start following her to find out why she's following him. How did I get myself mixed up in this mess?" Daryl sits down and rolls his chair over to the terrarium. "Thanks for listening, Anthony." Suddenly the telephone rings. Daryl rolls back over to his desk and picks up the telephone. "Hello? Yeah? Oh, hey, Rick. (pause) Sure, I can meet you. What's the address? 410 Meadowlark? I'm on my way." Daryl hung up the phone and turned back to the terrarium, "410 Meadowlark is where Eugene lives. Now what?"