This one is a little longer than is usual for me. It covers no new ground for LW. There is very little sex. I have used characters from my story: "A Day in the Life of a PI," so it would be helpful, but not required, to have first read that story. My story is self edited, so you've been warned. This is not a RAAC story. Comments are always welcome. Thanks for your time.
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Jack Masters sat at his desk reading the sports page from the morning paper and drinking his third cup of coffee. He shifted a bit in his chair, trying to find a comfortable position for his left knee. Since the weather had cooled, his knee was aching, as it always did with a change in the weather. The doctors told him it was all in his head. They said there was no medical reason for his knee to ache when the weather changed. - Well, fuck them! I don't give a shit about their fucking medical reasons. All I know is my fucking knee aches when it fucking rains!
Four years ago Jack was a Police Detective. Responding to a call for backup, Jack found himself chasing a fugitive down a narrow ally. The asshole fired a shot over his shoulder as he ran. The bullet hit a brick wall and ricocheted, striking Jack in his left knee. That injury forced Jack into an early retirement. Jack spent a year doing rehab on his knee and his efforts paid off. He could soon walk without a limp and even run for a short time without his knee bothering him.
Once his knee was pretty much healed, Jack quickly grew bored of sitting at home while his wife, Amy went off to work each day. One such boring day was interrupted when Jack got an unexpected phone call from Bob Jones, another retired Detective.
"Jack, how are you doing, old boy? How's the knee?"
"Fine Bob, what's going on with you? ... Wait, I thought you moved to Arizona?"
"I did. That's kinda why I'm calling you. I need a favor, if you're up for it."
"Sure Bob, what do you need?"
"Well, I'm not sure if you knew, but I'm working as a PI here in Arizona and I need to locate a guy that used to live there in Seattle. He embezzled some money and stole some important ledgers from my client. I searched for him here, but lost track of him. I have a strong suspicion that he's back in Seattle."
"Damn, you're a Gumshoe? I had no idea you'd gone private, but sure I'd be glad to help you out. I'm sure I can find the guy. Do you need me to sit on him?"
"Thanks Jack, I'll email you the particulars. Really, I just need you to find the guy and keep an eye on him for a couple days. My client will be sending a couple of their own guys to retrieve their property."
"UH, Bob? ... That kinda sounds like this guy stole something from some not-so-nice folks. How is it you're working for that group?"
"That GROUP, as you call them, tries to keep a very low profile here. They don't like to use the local cops, and they don't want to be directly involved in any ground work outside of their area, so they hired me. I told them I might occasionally cut a few corners, but I would not do anything seriously illegal. They pay well and have never asked me to cross any lines."
"Okay, sounds like you have an understanding. I'll find the guy and sit on him 'till your clients show up."
"Great! If this works out, I'd like you to be my go-to guy in Seattle. I have no idea if I'll ever need your help again, but I am trying to build a network of PIs I can call on for out-of-town help."
"Sounds smart, Hmm ... a PI, I kinda like that idea. I think I'll look into getting my license, thanks, Bob. I'll call you when I locate the guy."
Through his contacts on the streets, Jack needed just a couple days to locate the scumbag hanging out with an old girlfriend. The out-of-town folks showed up the next day and Jack watched them escort the dirtbag to a van and drive away. He called Bob and let him know what happened.
"Thanks Jack! I knew I could count on you. I'll drop a check in the mail today."
"No need, this one is on the house. I submitted my license request and they said there is an expedited process for qualified former law enforcement, so I'll send you a card when I open my office."
Jack got his license and found a dumpy little office in a low rent, run down building. He had a shitty little desk, a couple of plastic client chairs, a file cabinet, coat rack, an old refrigerator and a TV tray that held his MR Coffee. Not exactly a first class office, but it was comfortable and affordable.
His business came slowly, but his retirement check more than covered his expenses at home and at the office. He did a couple jobs for a local divorce attorney and was soon getting calls from several more small law firms. He didn't really like the sneaking-and -peeking, but he was good at it and it paid well and kept him busy.
Today it was raining once again and Jack rubbed his knee as he continued to peruse the morning sports page. He was just starting to read the last page when his office door opened. He looked up and smiled.
"I'll be damned, look who's slumming! What brings a lovely, sophisticated, lady like you into my dreary office today?"
"Hello Jack, I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"Sharon, you are welcome to interrupt me anytime. What can I do for you? Don't tell me you're having trouble with Stevens? I thought your divorce was fully settled."
"No, no problems. Thanks to your video, James was defenseless and my lawyer tore him to shreds. The prenup held up and I got practically everything I wanted."
"Great, then why are you here?"
Sharon Stevens looked around the rubble that was Jack Masters' office. She remembered walking into his office ten months ago and hiring Jack Masters to follow her cheating spouse and get the goods on him. She had been unimpressed by the shabby office, but very impressed with the handsome hunk of a man that assured her he could get all the evidence she needed for her divorce.
"Jack, I have a bit of a circumstance I need to discuss with you. If you're available, I'd like you to take a ride with me."
"Okay, but can't you just tell me what this is about."
"It's much easier if I show you while I tell you about it. Please Jack, I have a driver waiting out front."
Jack grabbed his jacket and escorted Sharon to the waiting car. She gave the driver the address and they were whisked away. Ten minutes later they pulled up to a nice ten story building and got out. Sharon greeted the gentleman at the lobby desk and walked to the elevator. They got on and she pushed the button for the 7th floor.
"Sharon? What in hell are we doing here? I need to know what you're getting me into."
"Relax Jack, I just want to show you something and then I'll explain."
They got off on the 7th floor and walked to the end of a short hallway. Sharon got out a set of keys and opened the door. She entered and flipped on the lights. They were in the outer office of what appeared to be a two room suite. Sharon smiled at Jack and led him into the second room.
Jack stepped into the room and looked around. A large expensive looking desk dominated the room. A nice leather executive chair sat between the desk and a low credenza. Above the credenza was a wide expanse of window glass that offered a nice view of the street scene below. To the left of the desk was a wall of bookcases. On the opposite wall was a narrow cabinet with a bar/sink set up. Next to it was a door labeled "Private."
"That door is your private washroom and includes a shower and small wardrobe."
"MY washroom? ... What do you mean, MY washroom?"
"Jack, do you like this office?"
"Sure! But it's way the hell out of my price range, so why did you drag me over here?"
"Okay, here's the deal. I got this building from James in the divorce. His former accountant was in this office. The prenup allowed us to do an audit of all of James' assets. That audit showed the accountant had fudged some of James' accounts and some of his cash balances were short. The accountant got fired and kicked out of this building. So, now I own the building and it's fully rented, except for this office."
"Well, that's great. Your shark got you a nice building, but what does that have to do with me? I told you I can't afford this place."
"Yes, my shark got me a building, but he also screwed up. The dumb ass let James' attorney slip a little item into the spousal support clause. That's why I need your help, I have to comply with the item, but I think I've got a plan that will benefit us both."
"Sharon, what the hell are you talking about? What this about an item in the support order and how am I involved?"
"The support agreement requires I be employed by another party. My guy says, to be in compliance, I need to have a job and work at least 21 hours a week. He said, because they didn't specify earnings, it doesn't matter what I'm paid, but it has to be a real job. So I want you to hire me as your administrative assistant and move Masters Investigations into this office."
"Good Lord! Sharon, with all due respect, are you fucking nuts? I can't afford this office and I certainly can't afford an assistant."
"Hold on Jack, let me explain my idea! ... Okay, so how much is the rent at your current place?"
"Six hundred a month and that's all I can afford."
"Okay, you will hire me and pay me $1200 a month to work as your part-time assistant. In exchange, I will hire your firm to provide Security Services for this building and my other two properties. I will pay you $2400 a month and rent you this office for $1800 a month. If you do the math, that means you need $600/month out of pocket, which is what you're spending now anyway. Of course, there will be taxes and stuff so it will actually cost you a little more than $600, BUT you'll have a lovely office and a lovely part-time assistant. Your security duties will be next to nothing, mostly just a weekly drive by. ... Sooooo, What do you think?"
