Following a Warm Trail

This is my entry in the Valentine's Day Story Contest 2023. Your votes and comments are always appreciated.

All characters in this work of fiction participating in sexual activity are aged 18 or older.

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Part One: The Tail

Del idly flipped through the game screen on his phone, finally landing on solitaire. He glanced up through the windshield, then started flipping cards. He was lucky and unearthed two kings immediately. He made further headway and moved several cards into place in the tableau, revealing an ace in the process. Finally he began flipping the cards in the hand.

He looked up through the windshield again. "Shit!"

Del's target, a trim, elegant woman with an ash blond ponytail, was exiting the building. The odd, dark-haired young man was with her. Del quickly put his phone away, started the gray Prius and watched intently. She opened the passenger door of the Civic and the young man slid into the seat. The woman entered the driver's side and Del heard the engine start. His eyes were already looking behind his own car to pick out potential openings in the traffic.

This case had worried Del from the start. It began with the typical outraged husband looking for evidence that his wife was cheating. He paid the advance fee without complaint. But Del's investigation was not proceeding in the usual way. He'd had his doubts about this case from the initial meeting, where Del flat out challenged his prospective client.

"Mr. Barnett, what exactly leads you to believe your wife is having an affair with this man?"

"Why else would she see him a couple of times a week, and drive him off somewhere? Frankly, she's no longer the woman I married. She's become cold, irritable, looking for any excuse to spend time elsewhere. We're hardly on speaking terms."

"How did you find out about her activities with this man?"

Hal Barnett snorted. "That's the killer. She told me about him."

"Told you what, exactly?"

"That she had a new patient and had to drive him somewhere a couple of times a week. Usually she sees her patients only once a week, so I immediately got suspicious. But the real giveaway was that she had to drive him, because he couldn't come to her office."

"And your wife is a therapist?"

"Yeah. Her office is downtown here in that old bank building."

"But she doesn't see the new patient there?"

"Right. She drives him somewhere else to fuck, obviously. Otherwise the people in her office would hear them."

Del thought that maybe it wasn't at all that obvious. Barnett's story was full of holes, all fucked up.

He later learned from his surveillance that Mrs. Barnett met the young man at her office and then they drove to the other place. It didn't look at all like a liaison. Why would anyone see a lover at a scheduled time during a workday? But given this guy's simplistic mind and cocksure attitude it didn't surprise him that his wife's attitude toward him had changed over time.

Del verified that the wife, Elena Barnett, was a legitimate licensed therapist. Her online reviews indicated she was good at her profession. Why would she jeopardize her reputation over a stupid affair? Del had the feeling that something wasn't at all right about this case.

It took him a couple of days to track the young guy down. His name was Leo Caldwell, and he was only 22. Elena Barnett was at least six years older. Caldwell worked at a shoe store a couple of miles away from his apartment. Del noted that he could get there on the bus. He obviously didn't have his own car.

He had observed the woman and young man four times now, but they didn't spend any time at the typical trysting spots he sometimes saw -- Sybaris, cheap hotels, or the guy's apartment. Instead they went from her office to a small office building converted from a rambling house in a nearby suburb. Del had managed several photographs of them together, but no PDAs or other signs of even the most casual affection. And they were only together for at most a couple of hours in the morning, twice a week.

Del had cased out the other building tenants of course -- two lawyers, a dentist, a piano studio, and another therapist. This made no sense if there was actual hanky-panky going on between these two. All he had was lousy circumstantial evidence, which no competent family court judge would give a single fuck about.

Del was tailing the Honda from a few cars behind. He knew this route by now and was certain they were again heading to the converted office building. Del parked a block away and watched the pair walk into the building. He sighed, got out of his car with his tablet and walked to the coffee shop around the corner to get some work done.

*******

Part Two: Busted

Del was just starting on his coffee when the door opened and the blonde woman came in. Del knew his game and paid her no attention. She ordered a skinny latte and sat two tables away from him. Del felt like she was looking at him, but he didn't dare look up. He was typing a surveillance report. He felt a bit pissed that he hadn't stayed around to see her exit the building, but he wasn't sure that it even mattered. The whole case smelled like a wild goose chase dreamed up by a clueless husband. He resolved to wrap it up with this week's report and let Barnett make what he could of it. He minimized his report of today's surveillance and pulled up a different one, just to be on the safe side.

"You're working awfully hard." The voice was soft, almost caressing. Del jumped a bit. This interaction was unexpected. He looked up into soft blue-gray eyes.

"I'm sorry, Miss..."

"Mrs... Mrs. Barnett, Elena Barnett. I don't mean to disturb you, but I wonder if you mind if I ask you a question."

Del shrugged. If he brushed her off it might look even more suspicious than if he talked to her. He had never spoken to a surveillance target before and decided to just let it play out. "All right, go ahead and ask." He didn't offer his name.

"Have you been following me?" Her voice was perfectly calm.

Shit. There it was. Del had the immediate feeling that he couldn't bluff his way out of this. But maybe, he could play the client confidentiality card.

"I've been hired for an investigation. I'm not at liberty to discuss the nature of the investigation, or who it might involve. Client confidentiality, you understand." Del tried to remain detached and professional. Those eyes were making it difficult.

Elena smiled. Del had the uncomfortable feeling that she was a full step ahead of him. "I'm familiar with the constraints of client confidentiality. I asked you because I'm concerned with protecting my own client's confidentiality."

Del's mind whirled. She thought the Caldwell guy was the surveillance target? Or was it something else? What the fuck was going on here?

He fought the urge to simply excuse himself and leave the coffee shop. Then he would have to deal with Barnett's scorn over Del being busted during surveillance. He obviously couldn't continue the case in that event. He might even have to refund the retainer. Fuck me. This isn't going well at all.

"I presume that you're referring to Mr. Caldwell."

She nodded.

"Well, you must admit that your actions together have not been above reproach." Although he was bluffing her, Del was curious how that non-specific accusation would be received.

To his surprise, Elena simply smiled again. "Well, unless you have been illegally recording my therapy sessions, I don't believe that you have any basis for assessing my actions with Mr. Caldwell whatsoever." Her expression was pleasant, but the statement was made with absolute conviction.

Del flushed a bit. He wasn't accustomed to being on the defensive like this. Elena Barnett was proving to be a formidable woman. He threw in the towel. It wasn't like this case was on terra firma anyway.

"I haven't recorded anything, except you and Caldwell driving off to a different building a couple times a week."

Elena looked thoughtful, and didn't speak for a while. Then she looked at Del intently. "My husband hired you, didn't he?"

Del wrestled with the question. He did not get the chance to respond.

"Hal's an idiot. A flaming idiot! If you're looking for evidence of infidelity, go to the Snookers sports bar in Countryside on any Friday night. He'll be the one with some 19-year old bimbo on his lap. He gets her drinks too, because it's such a sleazy dive that they won't even card her. I've not waited up for him on Fridays for a long time. On second thought, don't even bother going. One of his slimy friends has posted a few photos on Facebook over the last several months. The shithead even tagged Hal and his bimbo."

Del shook his head. This was fucked. Totally fucked. He looked at Elena. She was really an attractive, classy-looking woman who radiated calm intelligence, except where her asshole husband was concerned. How did she end up with such a loser? Del suddenly felt very tired.

"I'm guessing there's a reasonable explanation for you driving off with Caldwell twice a week." He didn't phrase it as a question.

She nodded. "I drive him to a therapist who offers something that I don't have in my practice. He still has one session a week strictly with me. I can't tell you anything beyond that."

Barnett hadn't even mentioned that. He really was an idiot. And Del himself had totally missed it. She'd just mentioned her own therapy sessions in addition to driving Caldwell to a colleague. Del decided to try one more question, even though he knew she wouldn't have to answer. "Is it some sort of group therapy?"

She smiled. "I don't think that I can tell you any more. I hope you understand."

Del got up from his seat. "Thank you, Mrs. Barnett. I'm certain I'll be wrapping up my activities in this case shortly. I would caution you though..."

"That my husband is considering divorcing me? I'm way ahead of him. He'll be served by the end of the month. I, um, hope you can see your way to keeping that confidential. Not that it truly matters, the end result will be the same." Her intense eyes looked at him, then she drained the rest of her latte and left the shop. Del stared after her.

*******

Del sat in his office chair, staring at the surveillance report printouts. He stapled them together and put them into an envelope with Barnett's address. Del never sent surveillance material by email, but many clients didn't want to deal with the hassle of setting up encrypted transfers. So he often just mailed hard copies.

He leaned back, his fingers twined behind his head. This whole Barnett case had pushed to the forefront of his consciousness the nagging feeling that he simply didn't want to do this any more. Why couldn't he have met someone like Elena Barnett -- intelligent, very attractive, engaging -- apart from this ugly business. Even though they were on different sides of this mess, she had been entirely cordial to him. And frankly, he found her stunning.

Del shrugged thoughts of Elena out of his mind and opened his laptop to search for available job openings in the area. It might be a long shot, but he wanted to make the effort. He needed a change.

*******

Elena Barnett sat in her office, just seven blocks away. She was thinking about the PI. He struck her as one of those guys who is often overlooked, unless someone examined him closely and realized how impressive he was. Not all that tall but tall enough, wiry and fit rather than conspicuously ripped, a slightly crooked nose. He dressed casually and inconspicuously. But he also had the kind of wavy hair you wanted to run your hands through, a jawline that was set with determination, and intense hazel eyes that looked right through you. He radiated intelligence and resolve.

She knew instinctively that he was good at his job. She never would have noticed him and his gray Prius, except it had that odd little sticker on the back: "Botany or Death." What the hell even was that? But she had seen the car outside her office. Then when she dropped Leo Caldwell off at group therapy and decided to take a break for coffee, there it was on the street. She had followed the man to the coffee shop and waited outside until he was settled with his drink. She had walked in, uncertain what to do but certain that she should do something.

The PI hadn't actually told her anything of substance, other than implying that he was following Hal's ridiculous "lead" concerning her patient Leo Caldwell. The PI hadn't even admitted to that directly, but she knew it was true. And when he'd tried to caution her about Hal's intent, she'd simply cut him off. That should spare the man any agonizing over ethics.

Her final thought was that she'd probably never see him again. But that brought an odd twinge of regret.

*******

Part Three: The Bookstore

Sixteen months later

Elena Barnett glanced at her phone and realized she needed to get to Anderson's Bookstore during lunch. She always managed to forget that her niece Kara's birthday coincided with Valentine's Day, and it was too late to get anything from Amazon. She preferred browsing in the bookstore anyway. She just hoped the store wouldn't be too crowded. She knew they had a considerable card selection, but she really needed some help navigating Kara's preferred Young Adult fiction.

Elena hurried into the store and walked up to the counter. The friendly manager, Mrs. Lathrop, greeted her. "Welcome to Anderson's. Is there anything we can help you find?"

"I have a 13-year old niece who adores Young Adult fiction. I'm afraid I don't know much about what she's read, or would like to read. Might you have some suggestions?"

Mrs. Lathrop smiled. "My assistant manager, Mr. Munroe, is the one you should consult." Her voice lowered. "He's actually persuaded a few of those young ladies at the high school to form a book club, and he acts as their informal mentor. I'm sure I would never have the patience, but somehow he manages."

Elena brightened. "Is he available to help me?"

"He's over there restocking the Valentine cards." Mrs. Lathrop waved.

Elena turned and noted the trim man in the blue shirt and khakis. She approached him. "Hello, I've been told that you can assist me with Young Adult fiction. I'm looking for a birthday present for my niece."

The man turned and regarded her. "Hello." He stared with intense eyes for a moment as Elena tried to place him. "I... believe you're Elena Barnett?"

Elena flinched. It was the PI. What was he doing here? She realized that she didn't even know his name -- oh, the woman at the desk had mentioned Mr. Munroe. But she didn't know his first name. A small thrill ran through her at seeing him again.

"Yes, I am Elena Barnett. And who might you be?"

"I'm Del. Del Munroe." He chuckled at her formality. "I once investigated you."

Disarmed, Elena replied, "So you did." She blinked at him. "As I recall you didn't find much for your client to chew on."

He chuckled again, nodding, his hazel eyes twinkling. Elena couldn't help but feel that he seemed quite different now, somehow, from the dispassionate, almost sullen man she remembered. He was much more relaxed, more... engaged? And he most certainly smiled more.

Del finished stocking the card display. "That should hold through the rush of last minute Valentine buyers. Let's go back to YA, and you can tell me more about what you might be looking for." His eyebrows arched a bit, and his grin was infectious.

They moved to the Young Adult section. Elena had to say something. "I'm surprised you remembered my name. But I suppose that as an investigator you had to remember many people's names?"

Del gave her a warm smile and shrugged. "I've forgotten the particulars of most of the cases I worked on. You, though, I didn't forget."

He said it in such disarming, straightforward fashion that Elena blushed. She felt a sudden warmth pulsing through her, right down to her lady parts. She was curious about something else though. She asked, "Tell me, how did someone like you become so interested in Young Adult fiction?"

He chuckled. "My own niece is something of a fanatic reader of the genre. Sophie -- Mrs. Lathrop, the store manager -- makes no secret that she hasn't the time to delve deep into every book category. She was more than happy to let me take this one on."

Elena smiled. "I'm trying to find a suitable birthday present for my niece. She's 13. But I really don't know what she might like. She already has a number of titles."

Del rubbed his chin. "Then we'll stay away from the really popular and more recent stuff, like 'Harry Potter' or 'Hunger Games.' How long has she been reading these?"

"Only a year or two, I think."

He mused, "Then maybe something like 'My Side of the Mountain' -- it's something of a classic, and there are two sequels, both written many years later. If she likes the first book, you can give her the others later."

"I read that when I was her age! It never occurred to me that she might like that... but she is very independent, and she loves the outdoors. That may be really right for her. I don't think that I ever knew there were sequels." Elena studied Del. "You truly are good at this."

Del smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Keep up the flattery, and I'll be forced to ask you to go for coffee with me."

Elena jumped at the bait. Joking or not, Del really seemed like an interesting man, and the chance to talk in someplace more comfortable was inviting. She decided to call his bluff. "I'll be at my office until 5:00. How about 5:15?"

Del frowned. "Unfortunately the local places all close at 5, except of course Mermaid Land."

Elena laughed at his reference to the Seattle chain. "But there's a coffee shop a couple of miles away... Level Up? I think they'll be open later."

"I usually walk to work so I don't have my car here. If you can drive us... "

"I'll pick you up in front of the bookstore here at 5:15. I drive a blue Hyundai."

"Ok then." A smile spread over Del's face. She must have traded in her Honda. But it seems that she really wants to do this, so let's just do it. "Why don't we exchange numbers just in case?"

Elena smiled and pulled out her phone. "I think you've earned that privilege by helping me find Kara's present."

*******

Part Four: Coffee and Questions

Del and Elena walked into the coffee shop. Elena said she needed to use the ladies room. Del asked, "Shall I go ahead and order? Skinny latte, right?"

Elena narrowed her eyes at him, then nodded. "I'll be right back."

They were sitting at a table near the window with their drinks. Elena shook her hair out and re-tied it into a ponytail, then looked right into Del's eyes. "Ok, Mr. ex-PI turned bookstore clerk, how in the hell did you know what I wanted to drink?"

Del chuckled. "Actually I'm the assistant manager of the bookstore."

Her eyes crinkled. "Noted, but I'm still waiting for my answer."

"Well, that's what you ordered when I was tailing you."

Her mouth fell open. "You must be kidding. You remembered my coffee order from a whole fucking year ago?"

"Well... yes. You were pretty striking. In fact you still are. Maybe even more so now." His hazel eyes twinkled again.

Elena felt herself blushing again at the compliment. He looked so intense, but his words were obviously sincere. She shook her head. "Why did you give up PI work with a memory like that?"

"Honestly? Because it absolutely sucked. I mean, running around spying on the unfaithful..." He looked sheepish for a moment, then continued. "Or, supposedly unfaithful spouses, well, it gets to you after a while. It's not what I would call personally rewarding work." He took a sip of coffee. "And it's certainly not like I was really helping people. I was only helping them break up their families. I guess that I became fairly cynical about the whole thing."