Her Private Dick Pt. 01

Joshua Stallard pulled his bill from the printer, tucked it in behind the other thirty-odd pages he'd printed, and then tapped them softly on his desk to align the edges. He stared at the cover page a moment before turning the sheet to make sure the detailed report of his findings, the photographic evidence to support his report, and the bill listing his hours and expenses, were all there and in the proper order.

The report would add another twenty-five hundred dollars to his bank account and put another man in a difficult position. He hated his job. Because he'd caught another man with his zipper down, he was going to destroy another family. He knew it wasn't his fault the guy was unfaithful, but that didn't change the fact that he was the one who was going to deliver the bad news. It beat selling washers and stoves for East Coast Appliance, but the jury was still out on if it beat being a Marine. At least as a Marine he felt like he was doing something good, something positive, and not destroying families... at least not American families.

After carefully reading his report one more time to make sure it was clear and professional, he slowly flipped through the photos of a reasonable looking guy, Anthony Marker, and his lady friend, Amanda Stellins, enjoying a lunch with big smiles. As he continued to flip through the printed photos, the story they told became ever more damning, the final photographs being Antony and Amanda entering a motel room together, emerging again fifty-one minutes later, and them kissing beside Amanda's car.

He'd been hired by Mrs. Marker because she suspected Tony was having an affair. He was, and now Tony was going to have to answer a lot of very uncomfortable questions... if he was lucky. Ms. Susan Marker didn't strike Josh as a particularly forgiving woman, and Mr. Anthony Marker might come home one day and find his stuff piled in the yard. He sighed as he again tapped the papers to align the edges before he slid the stack of paper into a large envelop.

After three tours as a Marine, he'd left the military and returned to civilian life, looking forward to some stability, meeting a nice girl, settling down, and living the American dream of 2.2 kids, a wife, a dog, and a mortgage. That's what he expected. What he'd discovered was there isn't a lot of demand for a sniper in the private sector. He'd thought a big city police department would snap him up as soon as he hung up his uniform, but that hadn't proven to be the case.

He'd joined the Marines immediately after graduating high school, full of patriotism and a desire to make the world a safer place. He'd done his bit, but what he'd found upon leaving the service as a thirty-year-old E-6 was that everyone wanted a college degree for practically any job, even as a sniper on a police force. He was yet to understand why a degree was required to be a sniper. You didn't have to be particularly educated to pull a trigger, just disciplined.

Desperate for a job, he'd finally landed a position selling appliances while he waited for an opportunity somewhere, but the mind-numbing monotony of the job had gotten really old, really fast. After a year of selling refrigerators, ranges and microwaves, and plenty of 'don't call us, we'll call you' letters from various police departments around the country, he'd decided to take a leap of faith and open his own business... and Joshua Stallard Investigations was born.

He'd always loved detective shows, movies, and books, and enjoyed solving puzzles, so it seemed like a good fit. He enjoyed the work but hated the job. He was hanging on, but JSI had been teetering on the edge of financial ruin since the day he opened his door. He'd dreamed of locating kidnapped children and busting industrial espionage rings, but what he actually did was hide in plain sight, take pictures of cheating spouses, and dig up dirt that could be used by divorce attorneys to win their cases. It beat talking to blue-hairs about refrigerators... barely, and it paid the bills... barely.

With a resigned sigh, he folded the clasps down to seal the envelop. He'd caught Tony in his compromising position yesterday afternoon, and had sent an email to Ms. Marker first thing this morning requesting an appointment to deliver his findings.

He was pretty good at reading people. He could watch a person a moment and then oftentimes predict their next move. It was a skill he'd honed as a Marine that had saved more than one Marine's ass. His spotter had called it his 'spidey sense,' and that intuition said Ms. Marker was determined, and maybe a little afraid, to find out if her husband was cheating on her, but she hadn't struck him as a shrewish woman. Susan was attractive and seemed to care about Tony, they had a nice house, and two cute daughters. He couldn't understand what Tony was thinking. It seemed like a lot to piss away for a bit of fresh ass.

Josh sat at his desk, reading the latest Mathew Scudder, when he heard the outer door to his small, two-room suite open. He quickly tucked the business card he used as a bookmark between the pages and placed the book in a drawer before rising. The outer room served as a small waiting area separate from his larger office. He'd consider himself lucky to be busy enough to have someone waiting, but the room served the purpose of preventing people from stepping off the street directly into his office.

He quickly rounded his desk and entered the waiting room, wondering why Ms. Marker had arrived without responding to his email, but instead of his client, he saw another woman.

Pretty, in a girl next door kind of way, she was dressed in a well-cut business suit of ultra-deep purple, a white top with the top button open, and sensible black pumps. The woman was examining the room with a critical eye, and he felt a bit of embarrassment. His office was in a small strip mall, squeezed between an accountant on the left and pet groomer on the right, and while his waiting area was clean, it was furnished and decorated in office supply store chic.

"May I help you?" he asked.

"I'm looking for Mr. Stallard."

"You found him," he said, stepping forward and extending his hand. "Josh Stallard."

"Hazen Allen," the woman said taking his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Allen. How may I help you?"

"It's Hazen, please. I have a problem that I hope you can help me with."

Hazen's two-inch heels brought her to average height, but without them she'd be nine or ten inches shorter than his own six feet. She had straight black hair, parted down the middle and cut to frame her face, that fell to the middle of her shoulders, and an exotic appearance that was hard to place. She clearly had some Asian Pacific heritage, but her skin tone suggested there was more to her than that.

"Would you like to step into my office?" he asked with a gesture to his door.

"Thank you," she said as she entered his office.

Hazen didn't know what she expected when she decided to call on Joshua Stallard Investigations. She didn't expect Tom Selleck, or pictures with presidents, but this guy could pass for Joe Everyman. He had some nice arms, but no rugged good looks, no dark wavy hair, no banging body, no nice suit... nothing. He was entirely forgettable. Neatly dressed in khaki pants and a light blue, button front, short sleeved shirt, he was trim and handsome enough with his short, light brown hair, but he was type of person you saw hundreds of times a day, and then didn't remember sixty seconds later.

She entered his office. While the outer area was cheaply furnished and decorated, his office was a little better. His desk was an open, modern, glass and metal frame, with a matching metal file cabinet tucked under one corner. Behind the desk was a similar table the width of his desk holding a printer and nothing else. The prints on the wall appeared to have come from the same place as the generic prints in the entrance, but the chairs were a step up in comfort and quality. The office was clean and tidy, but sparsely decorated with no personal photos or touches to give her a hint to the personality of its occupant. She smiled. At least he did have one thing in his office that all private investigators should have... and that was a small bar and refrigerator.

"Please, sit down," he said as he followed her into his office, closing the door and motioning to one of the two guest chairs. "May I get you something to drink?"

"No, thank you."

He settled behind his desk. The woman seemed to be in complete control, resigned almost, so this was probably another case of some guy dipping his wick in someone else's honey. He placed a small microphone on his desk and tapped a key on his laptop.

"With your permission I'm going to record our conversation, so I don't miss anything." He paused, giving her a chance to object, and when she waved her hand in dismissal, he continued. "I need you to verbally confirm your acceptance."

"Yes, it's fine."

"Thank you. So, how may I help you Ms. Allen... Hazen?"

She took a deep breath. "I need help finding my brother. The Navy says he's gone AWOL, that's absent without leave, and they're looking for him. I know he isn't AWOL. Well, I mean, maybe he is, but I'm sure something's happened to him. He wouldn't go AWOL on his own. If the Navy finds him, they're going to arrest him, and I want to find him first."

"Granted, being AWOL," he began, pronouncing it 'A-Wall' as she did, "is a serious offense, but why are you so sure that your brother..."

"Koda. Koda Allen," she supplied when he paused.

"... Koda didn't just decide he's tired of the Navy?"

"Because he wouldn't. The Navy's his life. He's only happy when he's on his submarine."

"He's a bubblehead?"

"A what?"

"Sorry. He serves on submarines?"

"That's right. The Pennsylvania."

"That's interesting," he murmured.

"What? Why?"

He held her gaze. "Normally those guys are rock solid. Anyone likely to flip out usually gets weeded out early."

"I think Koda is mildly agoraphobic too."

"Agoraphobic? Isn't that fear of open spaces or something like that?"

"Not exactly. It's a fear of places where they aren't comfortable. New places generally. Places where they don't feel in control, so he wouldn't just decide to go off somewhere. Like I said, he's only really happy aboard the sub. He'd never leave if they didn't throw him off every three months."

Josh hummed as he slowly rubbed his chin. "I can see why you think something may have happened to him. I assume you've checked all the hospitals and jails? Did you talk to the police?"

She carefully kept her face neutral. He must think she was completely incompetent. "Koda's an adult. It's not easy to file a missing person report without some evidence of foul play, and we have none. And no, not the hospitals. You can't just call and ask if so and so is a patient there anymore."

"Regulations are a wonderful thing, aren't they? Okay, I think I can help. I bill at seventy-five dollars an hour plus expenses. I'll keep you informed via email and text messages what's going on throughout the investigation, and I'll provide you with a written report of my findings with my final bill. Is that acceptable to you?" he asked. This would be a welcome change from his normal routine, and he mentally crossed his fingers.

"Yes, but there's one stipulation. I want to work with you on this."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Allen. That's out of the question."

"Why? I'm paying for it either way."

"That's not it. It's just..."

"Just what?" she snapped. "You may not know it yet, but you'll need me. I can help. I know my brother much better than you do."

"Which is why I'll stay in contact throughout the investigation."

"I go or it's no deal," she said firmly. She was used to getting her way, and this wasn't going to be an exception.

He thought about it. He wanted this job! It's the type of case he always thought he'd be solving, not sneaking around taking pictures of unfaithful spouses, but having Hazen tagging along... that was going to be a problem. He was a master at blending in and of staying out of sight, but he couldn't do that with her hanging around. He thought about it more. On the other hand, how much sneaking around would he be doing on this case? This was straight up investigation work.

He scrubbed at his face, rubbing his left hand violently across his mouth and chin, a nervous habit he'd had for years. "Against my better judgment, okay, but if you get in my way, or foul the investigation, there won't be any refunds, and assuming I can continue the investigation, you'll have to let me handle it alone from there. Agreed?"

She thought about it a moment. His stipulations were reasonable, and it was more important to get results than to cling to a failing situation out of stubbornness. "Deal," she finally said.

He tapped a few keys on his laptop before the printer behind his desk began to whir out his standard contract spelling out all the whereases and whatfors. He pulled the contract from the printer and slid the page across the desk along with a pen.

"This spells out all the particulars, but basically it says I'll report any results to you at least once a week. Either of us may terminate the agreement at any time, and you'll be billed each week for time and expenses. Failure to pay promptly may result in termination of the contract."

She took the pen and signed with only the briefest glance before sliding it back across the desk. "So, when do we start?"

Josh pulled the paper to him, signed, ran it though the printer's scanner to make a copy for his records, and then slid the printed contract to her. He glanced at the time in the corner of his computer. Susan Marker hasn't contacted him yet and it was nearly four in the afternoon.

"I guess we can start now, if you'd like. Who was the last person to see Koda before he disappeared?" he asked as he tapped on his phone to start his billing hours.

"That would be me, my sister, and Mom and Dad. Koda was at Mom and Dad's house after visiting for a couple of weeks. He was leaving to go back to the base."

"Where was this?"

"Right here, in Virginia Beach. We live here and this is where Koda is based. You want to talk to them?"

He stood. "It's a place to start."

Josh followed Hazen's new, bright red, Mercedes E63 AMG in his three-year-old silver Honda Accord. If her car was any indication, it appeared he wouldn't have to worry about her paying her bill if she could afford a car like that. As he followed her from his office, and the price of the real estate skyrocketed as they approached the ocean, he began to feel a little out of place. Finally, she pulled into a huge house on Haversham Close. The house was on the ocean side, instead of the golf course side across the road, and reeked of money.

"You live here?" he asked, trying unsuccessfully to not be impressed. Hazen looks to be his age, and to be able to afford a place like this in her early thirties...

"No. This is Mom and Dad's house. I have an apartment at River House in Norfolk."

"Pretty nice digs," he said as they walked to the front door.

"Yeah. They bought the place a few years ago. Mom loves it but Dad bitches all the time about how much it costs."

She opened the front door with her key and they walked into a palace. Maybe not a palace, but certainly the nicest home he'd ever been in. His family did okay, but nothing like this.

"Mom! Dad! I need to talk to you!" she yelled as they entered. Nobody answered and she rolled her eyes. They were never around when she needed them. "This way," she said with a nod of her head as she escorted him deeper into the house.

She led him on a meandering walk through the first floor as she searched for her parents. As he followed, he admired the woodwork and marble floors, before they stepped onto the patio where a man and woman relaxed in chairs as a third, much younger woman, stood before them wearing the tiniest bathing suit he'd ever seen.

"Mom, Dad, this is Mr. Stallard. He's going to help us find Koda."

Josh stepped forward to greet Hazen's parents as they rose from their chaises. Both were dressed in swimsuits, their bodies glowing with lotion. Hazen's mother appeared to be in her early to mid-fifties, with small laugh lines around her eyes, but she was fit and had lost none of her womanly charms. She stood a couple of inches shorter than Hazen, even accounting for Hazen's heels, and her large, enhanced breasts filled out her top in a most appealing way. Her father was a block of a man, standing several inches shorter than Josh, but with a broad chest and thick arms and legs. He obviously spent a lot of time working out, and it showed.

"Nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Allen," he said while shaking their hands. "Josh Stallard, Josh Stallard Investigations."

Hazen's parents explained her exotic appearance. Mrs. Allen was of Asian descent, and her father was clearly not from European stock.

"Nice to meet you, Josh," the woman said. "I'm sorry Hazen brought you out here for no reason." Josh released her hand but said nothing, confused over what is going on. Like Hazen, Mrs. Allen spoke with no accent other than the local southern drawl.

"Mom, Koda needs our help," Hazen said firmly. "I'm telling you, something's going on."

"Oh, poo, dear," Hazen's mom says with a dismissive wave of her hand as they returned to their chairs. "He'll turn up. He's probably just taking some extra time off."

"Dammit, Mother!" Hazen barked. "You don't just take 'extra time off' from the Navy. I keep telling you that!"

Josh waited quietly, his gaze flicking from his client to her family, and back while waiting as they sorted things out.

"You worry too much. Can I get you something to drink, Josh?"

"No thank you, Mrs. Allen."

Hazen's mother twittered a laugh. "Mrs. Allen is Tane's mother. Call me Mandy. This is my husband Tane, and our other daughter, Ivy."

Josh took Ivy's hand, being very careful to look into her eyes and not at her body. While Hazen was pretty, Ivy, dressed in her almost nothing swimsuit, exuded sex. Ivy had Hazen's same exotic appearance and long black hair, though Ivy's hair appeared to have been highlighted and carefully styled to look mussed, where Hazen's hair was worn in a neat, conservative, business cut. She was clearly taller than her mother, and was nearly as tall as her sister in her bare feet, despite Hazen wearing heels. The most obvious difference between the sisters was that Hazen was trim, like her mother, while Ivy was far more lushly built, her body type more like her father's. All four had the same coloring and dark hair, and there was no mistaking the family resemblance.

"For God's sake, Ivy, go put some clothes on," Hazen said sharply.

"I'm showing Mom and Dad one of my new costumes," Ivy pouted. "What do you think of it, Mr. Stallard?"

Josh hesitated, unsure of how to answer. "Not much to it is there?"

Ivy twittered out the same laugh Mandy had. "That's the point, silly!"

"Ivy is the featured performer at Atlantis," Tane said.

Josh felt himself flush. Atlantis was one of the upscale strip clubs in Virginia Beach. "Then... I would say the costume is perfect," he finally said, trying to hide his embarrassment.

He wasn't a prude, and he'd been in his share of strip club on business, but this was something unique. He'd never met the parents of a stripper before, and he wondered if they were all as open and nonchalant about it as Tane and Mandy seemed to be.

Hazen fumed as her family embarrassed her yet again. It was bad enough her sister was a fucking stripper, and quite probably a high-class escort too, but her parents not only accept the idea, but were proud of the fact.