I’d learned that it wasn’t uncommon for people to search out Jim to steal something or harass someone. That fit in with my image of PIs, but Jim’s response didn’t. He always refused those requests.
He was a sweet guy in his early fifties with a little beer gut and a fondness for bear claws. He wasn’t about to go around assaulting people for money. He had a gun, but I’d only ever seen him take it out of the safe once.
Jim wasn’t the Punisher.
“I need you to find my dog,” she said.
I gave her a sympathetic look. “Oh no, I’m so sorry. Let me see if Mr. Masel’s free.”
Instead of picking up the phone and testing Jim’s patience with the intercom, I got up and stepped into his office. “Are you busy? I’ve got a woman with a missing dog.”
Jim was on the phone but still responded to my inquiry with a shake of his head. “No pets,” he whispered.
“But it’s her dog,” I said, disappointed in him.
He gave me a look that I’d learned meant he wasn’t going to discuss it further. Feeling mildly upset, I returned to my desk.
“I’m sorry, we don’t…” my voice trailed off as an idea popped into my brain.
If I suggested it and Jim found out, I’d be fired. Was that thought upsetting? Only a little because I’d never been fired from any job.
Did I need this job? No, I had enough savings to last me another year or more. This job was supposed to be fun, but it hadn’t been much fun yet. Interesting, but not entertaining.
I decided to be reckless. That was the reason I was in San Diego anyway. I was shedding the old Bec like a snake's skin. I was the new Bec, a woman who wasn’t afraid of insecurity, instability, or adventure
Well, to a degree. I wasn't going to go around jumping out of planes or off cliffs. I wanted reasonable adventures.
Decision made, I stood up and held out my hand. “Actually, I can help you. My name is Bec Stanhope.”
Stepping up to my desk, she shook my hand with a delicate grip. “Gale. Thank you so much.”
“Pull up a seat," I said, pointing to a chair against the wall. She grabbed it and pulled it up close to my desk as I sat back down. I grabbed a pen and a sticky-note pad. Not super professional but I didn’t want to get up to go to the printer to pull out paper.
“Tell me what happened.”
“A man named Leif Johanson stole my precious dog, Hugo,” she said.
I hadn’t expected her to know where the dog was. “What?”
“He’s my ex, and he bought Hugo for me,” she explained. “When Hugo disappeared yesterday, I knew it was Leif.”
Wow, that was what we in the biz called “a clue.” I almost snorted, I needed to be more serious about this. A doggo’s life was at stake.
Gale continued talking as she pulled her phone out of her purse. “You have to get him back. Leif doesn’t know how to take care of him.”
She showed me a picture of a nice-looking guy holding a French bulldog. They were wearing matching shirts. I refrained from pointing out how cute that was.
“I don’t know if you need me,” I said. “If you know Leif took him, why don’t you go to his house and steal Hugo back?”
For a brief moment, Gale’s expression turned enraged. Then she smoothed her face out and shook her head. “That’s theproblem, he’s not at his place. I don’t know where he’s gone, but his roommate won’t give me any information.”
“What else do you know about him?” I asked. “Birthdate? Cell phone number? Employer? Friends?”
“Um,” she tapped on her phone and showed me a phone number. “This is all I have. I don’t know anything else. Sorry.”
She couldn’t name his friends? They must not have dated long. Except he bought her an expensive dog. Oh well, who was I to judge? I’d lived with a guy for three years, and he never bought me a single present the entire time we were together. At the time, I told myself we were too practical for gifts. We were saving for our future and didn’t need to buy each other trinkets.
Except when I looked back, I realized that Daniel wasn’t being practical, he was being a miserable bastard. He spent plenty of money on his hobbies, but there was never anything in the budget for what I was interested in.
