X Ray Vision Ch 10 Partnership

"Hey! We're here!"

Nick had found the door open and come right in, which suited Greg just fine. His arms were in a bowl of fish and tofu, some vinegar. He'd clued Jill into their imminent arrival, so she could dart into their bedroom and not be surprised in her skivvies.

"In the kitchen!"

Kelly followed Nick, looked around like a tourist, peeking in the bathroom, coming into the condo proper, rubbernecking.

"What a neat place! I always wanted to see in these condos. They built them just about the time I moved out here."

"Look around! But stay out of the back bedroom until Jill gets decent!"

Kelly took him at his word, checking out the extra bedroom, the utility closet. Out on the porch to peer at the coast, the ocean.

"Can I help?" Nick made the offer, though she had no culinary skills that Greg was aware of.

"Open the wine? Pour! In the crisper drawer." Greg had two bottles laid up, chilling. Nick rummaged, found the glasses in the cupboard.

He continued to munge the tofu and whitefish around, trying for something like an even mix. This was not anywhere he'd ever imagined himself being, arm-deep in a salad bowl of health food mush. Not his thing, not by far. Jillian had told him what to do, but he still didn't know why.

Glancing up the road he saw Billie whizzing down the hill on a bike! That was new. He smiled to himself; she was gaining confidence every day! Got herself wheels with no questions, no self-doubt, just did it. Felt good to see her grow.

"Billie in 10, 9, 8..."

Nick smiled, poured. Kelly was just coming in, looked quizzically at Greg, then Nick. Giving nothing away, familiar with Greg's curious ways, Nick just continued pouring.

Bang! The street door opened, Billie erupted in.

"Hey! I'm home! Smells funny in here!"

While it was a pretty outrageous way to greet the household, Greg couldn't help but agree. He couldn't see how this fishy stuff was going to end well. But not his to question why...

"Hey Nick!" Billie went in for the hug, avoided two arms outstretched with half-full wine glasses. Nick leaned her head on Billie's briefly, "Heyo! Welcome home!", held the glasses carefully clear of the guerilla hug.

Handing one glass to a still-puzzled Kelly, she took the other to Greg. Seeing his arms sticky and enmeshed, she offered the glass to his face, let him slurp up a good bit, set his carefully where it wouldn't get knocked over.

Billie ducked around both, nabbed a can of something fizzy from the fridge, slipped back out.

"You Kelly? Hey, good to meet you!" Billie popped her can, made to clink it against Kelly's glass, took a long slurp.

Kelly, unfazed, smiled a greeting, tried the wine. Good stuff!

Jillian breezed in, looking comfortable and cool in a wraparound skirt, a tank top, her damp hair up in a ponytail.

"Good! We're all here! Thanks Greg, I got it from here."

Greg scraped his hands clean of mush as best he could, washed up in the sink as Jillian pulled ingredients from the fridge. Bunches of herbs, soggy breadcrumbs(?), some butter! That was more like it.

Taking his own wine, he went around the bar to be out of the way, sat on a stool. Nick finished pouring herself and Jillian wine, she and Kelly took the other two stools as Billie slumped in the stuffed chair.

Jillian was rough-chopping the entire bundle of herbs, strewing it into the bowl. Heating a skillet, plopping half the butter in. Dumping the breadcrumbs in the bowl, with a wooden spoon mashing and folding it all into a wad. Pouring some of her own wine in to make it slack enough.

"Nice bike! Gonna be very handy!" Greg opened with a nod to Billie. He could see her feet were sore, and a bike would help with that.

She grinned, pleased with herself. "Used! Only 80 bucks! Road bike! Fast! From our first paying job! My cut!" She peeled her shoes off one at a time, revealing red skin where blisters were starting to form.

Kelly made an Oh! mouth, looked concerned.

"Moleskin in the bathroom! Kit under the sink!"

Kelly went to the bathroom to find it, still confused about the bike.

Returning, Nick took the kit from her, slid off her barstool, sat on the floor. Took one of Billie's feet on her lap, started dressing the seeping angry skin. Quick professional movements, clearly done this before.

Billie accepted the attention as her due, settled back into the chair.

"Found a dog! Lady was in her yard crying; I handed her a card and went to work!"

"You are a marvel! Jobs just falling in your lap! Like you were born for this." Greg was impressed.

Kelly was completely at a loss at this conversation, so Greg filled her in.

"Billie and I have started a business, finding lost things..."

"His talent and my legwork! Been sticking cards in doors up in the ritz bitz neighborhood all day."

"His talent?" Kelly was just more confused.

Greg paused, uncertain what to say. Billie filled in.

"He's some kind of Kreskin, can see things without looking. Read things without reading them..." this with a knowing look at Greg. He had the good grace to flush, caught out on that one, the note he'd forgotten to dispose of the other day.

"If I can't solve the mystery right away Greg will come by, give the place a once-over, hey-presto! There's your thingy under the futon! Haven't needed him yet!" This smugly, as she'd solved two cases independently.

Kelly seemed to accept that, not sure what to make of it but too polite to ask. Sipped her wine instead.

One foot done, Nick sat it on the floor, took the other into her lap, gave it the once-over. Not bad enough to bandage, she packed the kit away, got up to return it to the bathroom.

Billie tilted her foot right, left, examined the handiwork.

"Hey! Thanks!" Nick smiled over her shoulder, glad to help a friend.

Making puck-sized wads from her fishy mixture, Jillian flattened them, sat them gently in the skillet. Sizzle! Butter smell! Savory fishy herby smoky goodness!

Aha! That was more like it, Greg began to relax. He'd been concerned about pretending to like this concoction, but now it was all going to be all right. Like crab cakes but more savory, this would be very agreeable.

"What can I do next?" Time to play the genial host.

"Get some pita and hummus out, make a tray?"

He'd seen the bready wedges in the fridge, the tub of yellowish mush, that must be 'pita and hummus' though he had no idea which was which. Probably some kind of spready snack?

Deciding on the wooden board usually used for hot pizza he fetched and opened the tub, sat it in the middle, put a spoon in. Tore open the bag of bread triangles, made a neat arrangement around. Before he was even done Kelly was smearing the putty on a wedge, chowing down.

Smelled ok. Greg put a tiny dab on a wedge, tasted it, Yummy! Garlicky! Spooned up a great wad, smeared it on.

Popping one in, Kelly smeared two more, gave one to Billie on her chair, one to Nick as she came out of the bathroom having washed her hands.

They chewed and swallowed in silence for a while, giving Jillian the floor.

"Kelly and I had a little outing today! Had to get a reprint from the Clerk one county over, down the coast, summary of charges and bail refunds, they refused to fax it, some privacy issue. Something about a conviction overturned, bail not refunded. Anyway, a long hot drive, not a lot of air coming out of the truck vents."

Greg made a mental note to tell the shop when it went in for oil. Maybe he could even give them a hint what was wrong, if he could figure it out by looking.

Billie had gotten up, was leaning on the bar stuffing her face with bread and goo.

Jillian had the first batch of fish-and-tofu cakes on a plate, set them down by Greg's board, smoking and brown.

"Careful! They're hot!"

Greg fetched a fork, busted one open, steaming. Got a brainstorm, took some bread, balanced a morsel on top.

Heaven! Savory fried fish and herbs, toothy browned tofu, butter infused throughout!

He embarrassed himself by making a yummy noise, getting a giggle from Jillian and Kelly. Smiled unapologetically, slid the plate so Kelly could try.

The last batch in the skillet, Jillian pulled out a bagged salad, some cold rotisserie chicken on a tray from the grocery. Washed the salad bowl thoroughly, dumped the salad in. Plated up the bird on a serving platter, added a steak knife and fork.

"On the porch?" She looked at the group for input. Everybody nodded.

Billie roused herself, still chewing, took the plate from Jillian, accompanied her out.

Swallowing hard, "Did I spill too much? Is Greg gonna be okay with what I said?", worried she'd put her foot in it, hadn't know that Kelly was not clued in.

Jillian pulled a corner table out from the wall, sat her salad on it, considered.

"Greg told me, no more evasion, no more stories. He's good with family, close friends knowing."

Billie looked relieved, sat the plated chicken out, returned with Jill.

Greg had a pile of plates and cutlery, passed them coming back. Nick was dishing up the rest of the fish cakes, turned off the heat.

The girls passed around the bottled salad dressing from the fridge, the bread board, the fish plate, utensils, trooped out, each with a glass in their hand.

Greg had arranged the love seat on one side of the table, a chair on the other. They were still short two chairs. Billie went back in, dragged out the stuffed chair from the condo.

Jillian suggested "Three across?", looking doubtfully at the love seat.

"Dressing table in our room!" That from Greg. There was a chair there, wooden but padded. Billie hared back in, left them arranging plates and passing out forks.

Looking briefly around, she saw the bedroom was just as curious as the rest of the condo. Nothing on the dresser but a single picture, unframed, propped up, some family on a beach. Peeking guiltily under the bed, yup, some blankets, boxed stuff under there.

The closet door was open, and she could see stuff shelved there, front-to-back instead of side-by-side, he didn't need to see it to know what was behind.

Carrying the chair she hustled back out, didn't want to be missed, miss anything.

Nick was tearing up the chicken, Kelly dishing herself a wad of salad, cracking open the dressing bottle. Greg and Jillian looking on like happy parents, on the love seat, content, sipping wine.

Taking her chair for herself, Billie hooked an entire fish cake onto her plate, hot! Added a handful of bread, a big spoonful of the garlicky paste, started in.

When everybody had sampled, smeared, forked and chewed enough to quell the hunger of the day, the chicken reduced to a stripped carcass, the conversation resumed.

"Snowball! This big dumb mutt, had the time of her life, smeared in dust and grease and poop! I lured her with decoy food dishes, Mrs. Rich went gaga when she saw her, emergency trip to the groomer!"

Everybody laughed; Nick had to put her head on the table, couldn't draw breath for a bit. Had a soft spot for doggies.

"So he says, he thought bail meant he didn't have to show, what was the point in paying off the clerk if it didn't get him off?"

Nick was a natural storyteller, could even do the voices. Jillian got the biggest kick out of that; the bail bond crowd could be vicious about their clients!

"Tito is a reader! He spends every night in his room over the tire shop, has this big stack of detective novels, reads a book each night. Spends all his extra money on True Crime subscriptions!"

Kelly said it all soft, clearly something going on between her and Tito, or would be if given half a chance. Greg got all thoughtful about that one, smiled but then stared into the distance for a bit, shook himself.

After the stories were all told Greg fetched the wine bottle, topped them all up and sat it on the table, another bubbly can for Billie, stacked and carried the dishes in. They could hear him splashing and clattering happily in the kitchen.

"Ok somebody going to tell me what this Greg thing is? You're all so coy, clearly something is up." Kelly had been bottling that up all evening.

Nick spoke up, of course, Nick couldn't keep a secret to save her life. "He's called the Finder, he can find things, anything he wants. He found my wallet in a trash can outside Eastwood's, middle of the night, in the dark! Don't know how, don't care. He's a sweet guy, does things to help people is all I know."

Kelly put her hand to her mouth, inhaled sharply. "Greg is the Finder? I thought that was a tale for tourists!"

Jillian was looking proud, which made Billie relax, all secrets out in the open now.

"Jill said he could find me a job, just by walking around! Before I came up with Billie's Recovery Service. He can see who's in a house before he goes in; he can read notes on the counter without opening them.

"Has all his stuff stacked away, under the bed, in the closet, doesn't need to see to know where everything is! He even keeps the porch furniture up against the wall, can barely see the ocean, can't see shit on the beach from there, missing the best view in the complex, it doesn't matter because he sees it anyway, because he's Greg!"

It felt better just to blurt it out; nothing anybody else couldn't notice on their own anyway but now she'd said it. Felt relaxed, felt calmer now, all the stress gone she'd felt since she arrived. She lived with a magic man and that was cool, that was ok, he was Greg, so it was all fine.

Kelly still had her mouth open, looking around the porch, remembering the condo layout, the stuff under the bathroom sink. The way Greg had known Billie was coming; making supper, going straight for everything without Jillian saying where, he just knew, he saw. It all whirled in her head like a Kaleidoscope, clicked into alignment with crystal clarity, a complete picture, whole, it made sense now.

Kelly started laughing. It was so funny; she knew a guy with a superpower, and it was Greg! Good ol' goofy Greg! The most harmless, kind, durable, dependable, helpful person she knew. Next to Tito so ok the second most.

Jillian got all soft. "I know; it's ok somehow. Not some... some mean guy, some selfish guy who would use it for...

"Because it's Greg! He saved me the night I was lost on the beach, found me in the dark, saw I had nothing, everything gone, nobody who cared, no future, nothing to live for."

It was all coming out in a rush now.

"With a few words, and a pizza and a room and then a job and a reason to stay. Like he knows where everything is and also where it

should be

, somehow. Where I needed to be..."

She had tears on her cheeks now, still smiling and oh so happy and crying too. Billie stared open-mouthed; Nick nodded, understanding, been through it herself.

Kelly went to Jill, knelt, held her close, hugged her tight, face wet with her, for her.

Billie shut her mouth with a click!, worlds of hidden meaning revealed behind this confession.

Why Jill did the chill stuff she did; why Billie was even here at all, her and Nick and who knows.

And Billie knew she would keep this confidence, told by Jillian to people who deserved to know but only them, personal and private and now hers to keep private for Jillian because she was one of the good ones, because she was like Billie, somebody had helped her, so she helped Billie and Nick, it was that simple.

Jillian rubbed the tears away, still smiling, held Kelly's face, looked at her, rubbed her damp nose on Kelly's. Kelly grinned, stood, returned to her seat, took a long pull from her wine. Topped up from the bottle.

"So. Now that we're all good." And they were, something like a club, no secret handshake but a secret anyway, a good secret.

Change of subject.

"Somebody tell me where we're going to find more folks like you guys, like Tito. It's the slow season, I'm not likely to find any more candidates on the boardwalk until Spring Break, thank God.

"Somebody strong like us, who can do our job, face down scared men who want their way, tell them no. Anybody?"

Kelly piped up. "Have you considered Aunties?"

Jill looked blank, which made Nick laugh. "That's brilliant, Kelly! Mrs. Pham says some of her friends have a hard time, could use some extra cash, something part time."

Concerned, "Would they push back though? Stand up to an angry man, tell them how it was going to be, take no shit? Make them believe it?" Jillian had nix'd Billie because clients might not listen to a kid.

Nick nodded emphatically. "You don't know Vietnamese Aunties then? They deal with pushy men every day, you better bet the men believe them when they tell them off!

"Most are bilingual, enough to get their message across. And they'd sure love a private income! Something they don't have to owe to a man."

A slow smile spread on Jillian's face. She started liking this idea.

"It wouldn't even hurt to be mostly-bilingual! They can sandbag, use that to deflect arguments, pretend not to understand when it's convenient. Make it easier for clients to shut up and listen instead of making demands?

"And even part-time would help! I'd take that time to move on to new tasks, take more duties off the boss' desk. And if Tito moved on..."

Nick perked up. "Tito is going? Where?"

Jill looked evasive. "Oh nothing definite. I'd kind of suggested he might do some home visits like you, maybe with you? If that worked out, who knows? Then I'd have another desk to fill, maybe two, maybe part-time. Maybe more."

Nick liked the sound of that. She'd wondered what her next step was, how she was going to get from phone-drone to skip-trace. This sounded like it might be a way forward.

And Jillian had anticipated it, of course she had, she was looking out for them, for all of them.

"I'll ask Mrs. Pham for some names; let you know when she gets back to me?"

Jill raised her glass, saluted the group.

"To Aunties!" They all raised their glasses, drank.

Greg re-appeared, dishes done, wiping his hands, smiled at the group, everyone looking relaxed and satisfied.

"Did I miss anything?"

...

Billie stared at the phone like she could make it ring, just by concentrating.

She'd been staring for like half an hour, since everybody left, Jill to work with Nick, Greg for 'a walk' whatever that meant. Kelly had left early last night, meeting up with Tito, they all knew what that was about.

Leaving Billie to man the phone. Which stubbornly refused to ring.

All the demons she'd hoped she'd left behind came whispering around at the edge of her awareness. Maybe she

was

just a worthless little girl. Maybe nobody trusted her because she was a screwup. Maybe she hadn't sucked up to customers enough to get respect. Maybe this was a shit idea. Maybe Greg was just toying with her, pretending to trust her, gonna come back and say Aha! You failed! Stupid kid!

This was moronic. None of that was true. The idea was a good one; she'd already validated the business model twice. Greg was as straight as could be, and honest into the mix; he'd tell her exactly what he thought, and it would be constructive and kind. If the advertising cards didn't work, they'd just try something else, maybe direct phone, maybe a billboard, who knows! She could think of half a dozen other marketing approaches without blinking.

And staring at a phone was exhausting. Gonna have to find something to keep busy when waiting for calls or go crazy.

Clean? Nope. The place was spotless, it was uncanny, why was that? Oh. Greg, duh. He couldn't lose things, saw every spot of dirt so everything was in its place, tidy and clean.

Gonna take some getting used to! Jillian had done it, she could too.

So, not cleaning. She toyed with the idea of cooking, but that would be hard if a call came in, stopping in the middle of making a sauce or whatnot.

Something she could do some of now, and more later, quit in the middle without losing her place. Reading? Writing? Doing the books? No books to do; the company share from that second job was in the box, and they'd planned on balancing at the end of the month.