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And then the bus doors closed. At the exact moment when the man decided to jump. He hit the closed doors face-first, falling backward and hitting the ground with a heavy thump, the purse falling next to the bus stop. Someone nearby shouted and went to go help the thief. I made it to his side first, grabbing the purse and standing over the crumbled and sweaty mess of a man.
“Was all of that worth it?” I asked him. His face was beet red, spreading across the top of his balding head. He reeked like old fish and rotten cat litter.
“Maybe,” he answered.
I rolled my eyes. This fucker.
“Thank you! Oh my sweet baby Jesus, thank you.”
I handed the purse back to its rightful owner. The girl ran a hand through her windswept brown hair, catching her breath. She opened the purse and double-checked to make sure he hadn’t swiped anything from inside.
“Got everything?” I asked after a quick call with the police.
“Yes, thank you again, sir. Really.” She shook her head, throwing a wary glance at the man still on the ground, head in his hands. I was at the ready, just in case he decided he had a shot at escaping. “It hasn’t exactly been my month. I’ve been getting things stolen directly out of my bedroom, so when this happened… well, yeah. Thank you.”
She smiled a soft and genuine smile.
“My name’s Hazel,” she said, extending a hand.
“Rocky.” We shook hands.
The police sirens sounded down the street. Moments later, the cop car pulled up to the bus stop. The officer, Officer Hawk, took our statements and arrested the thief. He opened the back of his cop car and let the man fall in. This time, the door didn’t shut in his face.
“Everyone good here?” Officer Hawk asked as he finished up.
“Yup,” I said, getting ready to call an Uber to take me home. I had come to the beach for a morning hookup, not expecting I’d get in a morning jog at the same time. I thought I’d gotten enough cardio already. I was ready to head home, have some lunch, and enjoy the rest of my weekend. This past month had me taking on a huge caseload and left me feeling spent. I was ready for some time to myself.
“Thank you, Officer!” Hazel said. “Oh shoot, wait, wait!”
The police car was already pulling out to the street. She stopped waving, her shoulders hanging slumped as she walked back to where I stood. I arched a brow. “Did you need something?”
“I just, ugh, I figured I could finally talk to someone about my creepy-ass roommate. I’m honestly not sure if it’s bad enough to call the police, but maybe Officer Hawk could have known who to point me to.”
Like a private detective?
“This have to do with your things going missing?”
She nodded “Yeah. For months now I’ve been noticing that my underwear has been going missing. Sometimes they show up, but not in the spots I was sure I’d left them in. It has to be my roommate, but I don’t know… He also has some dumb cunty and transphobic friends who might have something to do with it all. The ones that have the loudest hate toward me are also usually the ones who want to fuck me the baddest. If it’s not Jesse, it’s the trash he hangs out with.”
Her expressive light green eyes went wide for a moment. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be bothering you with all this. I’m gonna get going.”
She had no idea I was a detective. I wasn’t a doctor, I didn’t have a Hippocratic oath binding me to help whoever needed it. I could nod, wish her the best, and go home. This didn’t involve me. I already helped in getting her purse back; I don’t think anyone would have judged me for walking away and letting her figure out the rest on her own.
“Hold on,” I said. “What else can you tell me about your roommate?”
“Huh?” She crossed her skinny arms, the straps of her teal shirt hanging on to her shoulders where a vibrant sunflower had been tattooed, its canary-yellow petals popping against an ocean-blue sky.
“I’m a private investigator. I work for Stonewall Investigations.” I pulled out my wallet and grabbed my card, handing the matte-black card to Hazel. She took it, the confusion on her face washing away.
“I… you can help?”
“I’ll try to.”
A blush broke through the light makeup on her face. Her gaze dropped down to her sandals. “I can’t… I mean, I can. I can pay you, I just don’t think it’ll be—”
I made another on the spot decision. “Don’t worry about the payment.”
“No, I wouldn’t want that. How much are we talking here? Like three hundred?”
Hazel was lowballing the estimate by a few thousand, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t paying me. Thankfully, my bank account was doing fine. The means by which that money had landed in my possession was something I’d never wish upon even the worst of enemies, but it allowed me to work for free for the rest of my life if I wanted to.
