Christy Barritt - Squeaky Clean 07 - Mucky Streak (11 page)

Holly stared at me from across the table. “How about you, Gabby? N
o jobs with the medical examiner?”

I shook my head. “None even close. Maybe I’
m holding myself back.”

“You could just be a
P.I. instead.”

“I’ve never even thought about it. I don’t know. I want to be proactive, not just go wherever life takes me. But I just feel like I need resolution. I need to know where Riley an
d I stand. I need to know Chad would be okay in business by himself. That my dad will be taken care of. I don’t feel like I can leave until I have that peace.” The words left my heart feeling heavy.

“Sounds like you’re looking out for everyone but yourself. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing either.
Or a good thing. It’s just an observation.”

The words
rang true. Guilt had captured me, making me a slave to the emotion so many times.

“Maybe that resolution will keep you in Norfolk. Maybe God wants you to b
e a crime scene cleaner. Maybe He wants you to wait because He has an even better job for you. Or maybe you need to get away from the chains of your past. Maybe moving would be the best thing for you. That’s something you have to pray about. God will answer you. He said that His sheep will know His voice. It’s just going to take some time. But you’ll know.”

“You’re pretty wise, you know?”

“I wish I had this kind of clarity before I was given a year to live. Now I realize that all of that worrying, all of those fears … they didn’t add a single benefit to my life.”

I had a lot to think about. One thing was for sure: I could honestly say that God brought me here to Cincinnati for a reason. Maybe it was just to meet Holly and get a new perspective. She was right: Life did have a funny way of working out. I just had to learn to trust God in the meantime.

Just then, our waitress put a piece of paper on the table. “Some guy asked me to give this to you.”

I wagged
my eyebrows at Holly. “A guy? Maybe this is something that should be on your bucket list.”

“Life is too short to wo
rry about men,” Holly announced with the roll of her eyes.

“Isn’t that the truth,” I agreed. Yet I didn’t. I wanted to agree, I wanted to be independent
, and to feel like I could do anything on my own. In theory, I could. In reality, I missed having Riley by my side.

Holly’s eyes narrowed as she unfolded the paper. “I think this is for you.”

She slid the note across the table to me.

As I read the words, my blood went cold.
Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

There was no signature, but I knew who had sent it. The Watcher.

He’d been here.

CHAPTER 12

I rushed outside and looked for the man—not that I had any idea w
hat he looked like. I searched for someone suspicious, someone hurrying away, someone looking at me.

Unfortunately, I’d made a scene when I ran
toward the door so quite a few people were looking at me. This had to be against some kind of unspoken code that trained P.I.s knew about.
When searching for someone, don’t draw attention to yourself.

Whoever had left the note was long gone.

I sighed and shuffled back inside. I went straight toward the waitress, who was collecting a tray full of food behind the counter. “What did the man look like who left this?” I held up the note.

She shrugged and popped a bubble with her gum. “I wasn’t paying attention. He wore a hat down low over his eyes. He was a white guy. Not tall, not short. Not fat, not extremely thin. No accent.
Lousy tipper. I don’t know. He could have been anyone, huh?” She grabbed two bowls from the window behind her. “I see so many people in here. They all get mixed up in my mind.”

“Do you have cameras here?”

She snorted and started hurrying through the restaurant to deliver the food. “No. We’re a simple establishment here. Nothing fancy. Sorry.”

I found Holly and
gave her the update. At that point, I was so rattled that there was no need to finish my pie, no matter how delicious it might be. We went back to her car. I checked the tires, the backseat and the underside, just to make sure no one had done any damage—not to mention to make sure no one was lurking there.

I saw nothing.

I half expected the engine not to start again.

But it did.

Still, the threat was ominous. The Watcher was planning something, and I had no idea what.

My thoughts swirled as
we drove, volleying back and forth between the case, the threats, and my personal life.

No immediate
answers or solutions came in regards to the case.

Which left me with
thoughts of Riley.

I made up my mind. I was going to call Riley this evening. I was going to swallow my pride and try to find out what was going on.

**
*

I sat in bed that evening. Even though I wasn’t cold, I had the covers pulled up over my legs, more as a security blanket, really.

My phone trembled in my hands, which was ridiculous. I should not feel this nervous about calling Riley. But I knew it wasn’t calling him that had me nervous. It was the possible outcomes
of our conversation that put me on edge.

What if he hadn’t missed me? What if he’d decided to stay up in D.C. permanently? What if the doctors changed their opinions and now concluded that Riley would never fully recover? There were so many scary possibilities.

But sometimes it was better to face those possibilities than to flounder in “what if” land.

I
dialed Riley’s number, but my call went straight to voicemail.

My heart dropped. Why wasn’t he answering? He still hadn’t called me back after my last voicemail. That meant that the last time I’d spoke
n with him was Sunday night.

He’d moved Saturday, and he’d call
ed the next day. We’d spoken, but only briefly. He’d told me he’d gotten to his parents’ house and was getting settled in. He thanked me for being understanding and told me that he’d call again soon.

That was three days ago.

Were my expectations too high? Maybe calling once a week was more appropriate. I didn’t know anything anymore. I just knew that I missed him.

Which was why I decided to take a big leap and call his parents’ house.

Things had been shaky between his parents and me ever since we’d disagreed on Riley’s care while he was in a coma. All of us had since apologized, but I couldn’t help but feel like our conflict was still hanging over our heads.

The immature side of me tried to avoid talking to them all I could, simply because I
wanted to avoid potential conflict. And I had to face the fact that some times I spoke without thinking—which inevitably made things worse.

His mom, Evelyn, answered on the first ring with a whispered, “Hello?”

“Mrs. Thomas. It’s Gabby.” My chest tightened.

“Gabby, how are you?” Her words didn
’t convey an overly thrilled tone, but she also didn’t sound annoyed.

“I’m doing okay. How are you?”

“We’re managing up here.”

What did that mean? Probably nothing, I reminded myself. I had to stop reading into things. “I’m trying to get up with Riley. Is he there?”

“He just laid down for the evening. He had a day of intense therapy, and he was utterly exhausted when he got home. So it was dinner and bed for him.”

Disappointment pressed on me. “I see.”

“I’ll let him know you called.”

“That would be great.”

“You’re taking care of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’m so glad to hear that. I’ll let Riley know you called after he wakes up in the morning. I know we have another full day, but hopefully he’ll be able to grab a moment to talk. I’ll insist that he does.”

Maybe she was trying to be helpful, but what I heard was: I’ll make him call you, even if he doesn’t want to.

I thanked her, said goodbye, and dropped the phone on the bed. I pulled a pillow over my chest and hugged it for a moment.

It was going to take a whole lot of trust in God to keep myself from dissolving into worry and fear on this one.

But Holly was right. God did do everything for a purpose. Maybe He was just trying to refine me now. And if I was going to live a life of transformation, I was going to have to start living out my faith.

***

By 10 a.m. the next morning, my cellphone was all-abuzz. My first call was Jamie. I filled her in on the case, and she told me that she hadn’t gotten any creditable leads from the website.

My next call was
from Sierra.

“Someone toured
the building,” she told me.

I frowned. “Really?”

Why would anyone want to buy the old rundown place? That’s what I wanted to think. But I knew the truth. Other people would be able to see it as I did: as a treasure, as a lovely historical house that could be restored to its glory.

“I tried to eavesdrop, but all I know
is that it was a man and woman in their fifties. They looked kind of uppity. I heard something about tearing down a wall and support beams.”

I swallowed a little too hard. “That’s too bad.”

“Nothing’s for sure. I told you I’d give you an update, though.”

I heard Chad talking in the background.

“And, of course, my husband wants to talk to you again. Here he is.”

“Hey, Gab. You know how we talked about expanding?”

“I remember you
mentioning
expanding more than I remember us actually
talking
about it.”

“I can’t stop thinking about it. I was going to wait until you got back to talk again, but now I’m thinking that offering a full range of contract services might just be the solution we’re looking for.”

“You mean, permanently?” Sure we’d taken on a few other jobs, but … “We’re crime scene cleaners. That’s what we do.”

“We’ll still be crime scene cleaners. That’s going to be our focus. But instead of having to hire subs to do som
e of the work, I want you and me to be able to do it ourselves. That way we’ll make more of a profit and it will streamline our work load.”

“What I’m hearing is that you want me to learn to put down carpet.”

He paused. “In a manner of speaking, yes. I do. There are a lot of things we can do ourselves. If we expand, we can also hire some more employees to help carry the workload.”

“Which then eats into our profit.”

“Not if we pick up more jobs. We’ve both done mold remediation and we know how to handle water damage. There are possibilities out there.”

“The idea is … intriguing, to say the least.”

“So, you’ll think about it?” His voice lifted with each word. “I have some friends who are contractors who could teach us both what we need to know to get the jobs done on our own. I could really see this becoming a profitable business, Gabby.”

Part of me
wanted to scream “no!” I wanted to scream that things should stay the same. That I’d had too much change lately. That I just needed for life to feel normal again. But I didn’t do that. Life went on, whether I wanted it to or not.

Finally, I nodded. “You know what?
We should consider your idea.”

I expected him to sound excited, relieved. Instead, he said,
“There’s one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I think we should change the name,” he blurted.

I blinked, trying to buy myself some time as I processed his idea. “From Trauma Care?”

“We need something more generic. Trauma Care sounds very … traumatic.”

I’d named the business when I’d started it. I’d been on my own for a while, until Chad and I decided to join forces. Trauma Care had been my brainchild. I’d had all of the forms printed up to start the business. I’d even spent way too much time trying to develop jingles and ensure that people left positive online reviews.

Trauma Care was mine. Was I just being territorial and stupid? Probably.

But I could hear the hope in Chad’s voice. He was married now, ready to make a living and settle down. He had no reason to think small.

Then there was me. I hadn’t been able to carry my weight lately, not the way I usually did. There just seemed to be so many changes happening at once, and I was having trouble handling them.

In honesty, I had bigger wars to battle at the moment. “Let’s do it. I think it’s a good idea, Chad.”

“Really?” His voice came out high pitched.

“Yes, really. Everything you said. I think it’s a good idea.”

“Wow. That’s great. I wasn’t expecting the conversation to be so easy. I thought I would be safer with an audience. Otherwise, I would have brought it up sooner.”

“That’s me. I’m easy.” I heard what I said and shook my head. “But not like that. Anyway, did you have an idea for what the name change might be?”

“I was thinking, ‘The Cleaning Crew.’”

I scrunched my nose up. “I don’t love it. Why don’t we think about it some more?”

“Got it. Thanks, Gabby. Stay safe.”

We hung up
, then Garrett called. I needed some sorbet or other palate cleanser, only for my brain, which was spinning from all my conversations I’d already had.

“Hey there, L
ove. It’s Garrett.”

I wanted to sigh every time he called me
“Love.” However, I knew the pet name wasn’t reserved just for me, so I let it go. In a move ripe for a lawsuit, I’d heard the man call his assistant the same thing. “Hi, Garrett.”

“I just got into town.
Would you mind meeting me at my place to catch up?”

“A
professional meeting at your place sounds great.” I had to add the professional part. I knew the man was a player, but I needed to keep my boundaries clear.

“
Can you be here in an hour? That enough time?”

“Yup.” Yup? Speaking of
being professional, certainly I could do better than “yup.”

I quickly freshened up
. I didn’t want to appear too dressy or like I’d primped for Garrett, nor did I want to look sloppy and inappropriate. I settled with a pair of nice jeans, a striped top, and my black leather jacket.

“You look nice.” Holly caught me as soon as I stepped out into the hallway.

I tugged at my shirt. “I’m meeting with the boss himself.”

“
Garrett, you mean?”

“He’s the one.”
I paused. “Listen, I just wanted to let you know that it was really great chatting last night. Thanks for your insight.”

“God gives us experiences for a reason. Sometimes, it’s just so we can share what we’ve learned with others.”

“You’re absolutely right.” I glanced at my watch. “I’d love to chat more, but I’ve got to get to that meeting. What are you up to today?”

“I’m feeling a little tired. I think I’m going to take it easy.”

“Sounds wise.”

I climbed in my car and set off down the road.
I kept an eye on my rearview mirror, watching to see if anyone else would follow me. Because if there was one thing I’d learned it was to keep my eyes wide open.