Posts Tagged ‘detective’

As most of you know, I work for a mob boss whom I call Uncle Joey. He’s not really my uncle, but after working for him for a couple of years, he’s become like family. This should make me more nervous than it does, but I make it a point to stay on the good side of things, and do my best to know as little about the bad side as possible.

Of course, the main reason I work for him is because I can read minds and he coerced me into it. But, since that goes for him as well everyone else, it gives me a little more wiggle-room than most people.

I’m also a certified private investigator, so I have clients that I help as well. Which brings me to my story.

My newest client, Henry, thought someone was following him, and he wanted to know who it was. That seemed like an easy task, since all I had to do was watch him for a day or two. If someone was following him, I’d take a few pictures, and that would be that.

Of course, it turned out that he worked for a florist making deliveries, which meant that I had to follow him all over the place. After two hours of doing that, I worried that my cover was blown, since I was now the one following him. Still, I did my best to keep watch.

That’s when everything changed.

My phone rang with the familiar tune of “Devil Rider,” which meant it was Ramos calling. He’s the hot, motorcycle-riding, hitman who works for Uncle Joey. Grateful for the distraction, I quickly answered. “Hey Ramos. What’s up?”

“Babe. Why are you following Henry?”

“What? Oh my gosh! Are you the person following him?” I glanced behind me, then along the street on both sides to see him. “Where are you?”

“I’m in a car just up the street.”

I looked, but couldn’t see him anywhere. “Which one?”

“It’s a white Camry.”

I still couldn’t see it, but then, I’m not much of a car person, and there are a lot of white cars these days. “Hmm… well… I can’t see you. I guess that means you’re good at your job.” I didn’t say, and I’m not, although I thought about it.

“Well… I’ve had a lot of practice. So I take it Henry hired you?”

“Uh… yeah.”

“What did he want?”

“He said that he thought someone was following him, and I’m supposed to figure it out, and show him pictures of who it is.”

“And you didn’t pick up anything else, like… what he did, or why he was worried?”

“No. He wasn’t thinking about that, and honestly, I didn’t want to know.”

Ramos let out a breath. “Hmm. This is good. I think we can help each other.”

“How’s that?”

“Henry’s been using his delivery service for more than just flowers. I won’t bore you with the details, but he’s been passing off… certain items in a messenger bag. I’ve been trying to discover who he’s been delivering them to, so that’s why I’m following him. But now that you’re in the picture, and he knows you’re there, you can keep an eye on him for me.”

“Hmm… okay, but you’ll owe me.”

“Babe.” His voice was low and gravelly. “You owe me far more than this little favor. Do I have to remind you of how many times I’ve saved your pretty little neck?”

Guilt washed over me. “Uh… no… no… of course not. I was just joking.”

He snorted. “Right. So this is what I want you to do. When he makes his other deliveries, he takes a messenger bag with him, and he comes back without it. I just want you to take note of where those deliveries are.”

That didn’t sound too bad. “Okay. How many of these ‘other’ deliveries are there?”

“I’m thinking three at the most. But he might surprise me with more.”

“Okay.” I spotted Henry coming out of the building he’d just been in. “He’s back, so I’d better go.”

“Thanks, Shelby.” He disconnected before I could ask him if he was going to keep following us, but since I was doing his job for him, he probably didn’t need to.

As I pulled onto the road to follow Henry, I glanced at all the white cars I could see, but I never spotted Ramos. He was good.

By the end of the day, I’d taken note of five different places where Henry had left a messenger bag. Ramos would be pleased. But what was I going to tell Henry? I was pretty sure Ramos wouldn’t want me to tell him he was being followed by the mob. But that left me looking a little incompetent.

Still, I figured I could tell him I hadn’t seen anyone… since that was true, and only charge him half of what I normally did to assuage my guilty conscience.

When he was done for the day, I gave him my offer and he took me up on my generosity pretty fast. “So that’s it? You’re not doing this again tomorrow?”

“Uh… nope. But good luck and all. Stay safe.”

He looked at me kind of funny, and was thinking that I might know more than I let on. I sent him a nod. “You might want to think about changing jobs. Messengers don’t always have the best of luck when they’re delivering something they shouldn’t… you know?”

His eyes widened, and I sent him a wave. “See you around.”

As I walked back to my car, I picked up that he was having second thoughts about his other delivery service. Maybe it was time to walk away before it got him killed.

Since I thought that was a good idea, I turned around and gave him a thumbs-up.

So that’s my story. I guess it just goes to show that a mob boss has all kinds of connections I’d never know about. But you know what? Like I said earlier, that’s just the way I want to keep it.

Yesterday, I got a phone call from Dimples asking for my ‘special’ help. This particular case had stumped him and the other detectives for several days, and they’d decided it was time to call in the big guns… me. As the resident ‘psychic’ for the police, I get called in when nothing else seems to work, even though not all of the detectives are convinced that what I do is real.

Only Dimples knows the truth that I can read minds, which is just how I like it. Can you imagine how twitchy everyone would get if they knew I could hear their thoughts? It would be a disaster of epic proportions, so it’s much better to say I have premonitions. Still, it does make things a little awkward when I have to explain myself. I mean… premonitions aren’t quite the same thing, so I always have to tell them I have a feeling about someone or something that’s about to happen, and it can get a little confusing.

I walked into the department and Dimples sent me his biggest smile, mostly because he knew how mesmerizing I found his dimples. It was kind of like a reward for coming in to help him, so I couldn’t complain. If you saw his dimples, you’d totally understand… I mean… they’re huge and they’re always moving, like they have a personality all their own.

“Glad you could make it,” Dimples said. “Have a seat, and I’ll explain what’s going on.” I took my seat beside his desk and he began to tell me about the case. “There’s a person of interest we’ve been watching for the murders of a couple of women, but we don’t have enough evidence to get a search warrant.”

“Wait… like a serial killer?” I’d actually known a serial killer. In fact, I’d almost become one of his victims. I shook my head. “You know how I feel about those types of murderers… are you sure you need me?”

“Yes. If anyone can stop him, it’s you.” Since I wasn’t convinced, he kept talking. “Shelby… you know how they work. If we don’t stop him, he’ll keep killing people. You’ll be saving lives.”

I closed my eyes and let out a breath. “Ugh… I know, I know. I just hate being involved with them. Their minds are…” I glanced around to make sure no one could hear me and lowered my voice. “… like the cesspools of humanity. I always feel like I have to take a long shower afterwards, and I’m still not clean.”

“I understand it’s not pleasant, but we’ve run out of options.” He was thinking that taking an extra shower or two was worth saving someone’s life.

“Ouch… that hurt.”

He had the decency to lower his gaze. “Sorry… I forgot you’d hear that.”

“It’s fine. So what’s the plan?”

“I thought we’d visit him at his house and maybe you could pick up something. We’ll say it’s a follow-up, since we’ve talked with him before. I’ll tell him that we suspect one of his neighbors is acting suspiciously, and ask him if he’s seen anything unusual. It actually works pretty well since the guy told us about the neighbor in the first place.”

“Okay. Just make sure he invites us inside his house. If I can ask questions about his house, it will get him thinking about where he hid the bodies, or what he did with them.”

“I can do that. Let’s go.”

It didn’t take long before we were knocking on the suspect’s door. The curtain twitched before the door opened and a thirty-something man with a dark beard and longish hair stood in front of us. He wore glasses and jeans with a graphic t-shirt that drew my eye, mostly because of the slasher movie depicting dead people and lots of blood. That seemed a little obvious. Was that why the cops thought he was their killer?

“Hey Colton. I’m Detective Harris, and this is my colleague, Shelby Nichols. I was here the other day, and we have a couple of follow-up questions about your neighbor. Could we come in?”

His gaze darted to the side, like he was checking out the cleanliness of the living room, before he pulled the door open. “I guess. What did you need to know?”

Dimples asked him a couple of leading questions about his neighbor, while I glanced around the room. It was clean enough, but something was definitely off. Colton kept fidgeting, tapping his hands against his leg and rubbing his arms. It smelled like he was cooking some kind of meat dish, with lots of onions and garlic.

He finished answering the question, giving me an opportunity to speak. “You must be a good cook. What are you making that smells so good?”

Instead of relaxing, he got even more agitated. “Oh… it’s nothing exciting, just a beef stew recipe of my mom’s. I like to make it when I’m feeling lonely.”

“Oh… that makes sense. I take it you live here alone?”

“Yeah. My mom passed a few years ago.” He was thinking after I killed her.

I blinked. “Oh… I’m so sorry. You must miss her.”

He nodded. “Yeah… every now and then, but the stew helps me feel like she’s still here.” He was thinking it helped him lay the past to rest and get rid of the evidence at the same time.

My stomach clenched. Did that mean what I thought it meant? I swallowed and tried not to freak out.

Dimples glanced my way, noticing my white face, and wondering what was going on. Since I’d quit talking, he continued the conversation. “My wife makes a great stew, but it doesn’t smell as good as yours. Could I get your recipe?”

Colton’s eyes widened. No one had ever asked him that before. “Sure. In fact… I was just about to eat. Would you like to have some?”

I coughed to cover my gagging reflex. I couldn’t seem to stop and Dimples began to pound on my back. “Could I get… some… water?”

“Sure.” Colton left and I turned to Dimples.

“We can’t eat that… it’s people.”

Dimples’s eyes widened. “Like soylent green?”


“Never mind… I get it. I’ll figure something out.”

Colton came back with a glass and I took it. After a couple of swallows, I managed to talk. “Thanks. I’m feeling a little sick, so I’ll have to pass on the food, but thanks anyway.”

He looked a little disappointed, but nodded.

“I’d like some,” Dimples said, surprising me.

“Great. I’ll get you a bowl.” Colton hurried back to the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’ve got an idea.” Before Dimples could explain, Colton came back with a bowl of steaming stew and an eager twinkle in his eyes. He was thinking this was one for the history books. If anyone ever found out. Still… getting a cop to eat one of his victims was like the icing on the cake. “Here you go. I hope you like it.”

“Thanks.” Dimples stirred the stew and sniffed it. “It sure smells good… but it’s a little hot. I’d better give it a minute to cool down.”

I was ready to knock it out of hands. He glanced my way. “Shelby? Are you okay?”

I shook my head. “I think I’m going to be sick.” I wasn’t even lying this time.

“I’d better get you home.” He took my elbow and helped me stand. Then glanced at Colton. “Hey… do you mind if I take this with me?”

Colton’s mouth dropped open, but Dimples continued. “Thanks man. I’ll bring the bowl back.” He rushed me out of the house before Colton could protest. We practically ran all the way to the car. Somehow, I managed to get inside, and roll the window down for some fresh air. That would have worked just fine, but Dimples handed the bowl of stew to me so he could drive.

“Oh hell no.” A fresh wave of nausea rushed over me. “What are you doing?”

“That’s the evidence I need to nail him. Whatever you do, don’t puke.” He was thinking that the lab should be able to analyze the meat, and it would give him the evidence he needed to get a search warrant, or, even better, make an arrest.

I closed my eyes and held the bowl as far away from me as I could. Next, I leaned my face out the window so the cold air could blow over me. That seemed to do the trick, and my stomach settled a bit. Still, I didn’t dare open my eyes until we’d parked at the precinct and Dimples had taken the bowl from my hands.

“You coming?” he asked.

“Go ahead. I’ll be there in a bit.” It took a good ten minutes before I felt well enough to get out of the car. Dimples had taken the stew to the morgue, so I sat down and waited for him. By the time he got back, I had mostly recovered.

“Thanks Shelby. I know that was unpleasant, but I think we’ve got him.” He turned to the other detectives and told them what we’d discovered. I was fine until someone asked him if he’d tasted it.

“Gah! I’m going home.”

Dimples held back a chuckle and thanked me again. He said he’d let me know the results, and, in the meantime, they would be watching the house to make sure the guy didn’t leave town. He was hoping for an arrest tonight, or early tomorrow at the latest.

That was yesterday. This morning he called to tell me that he’d made the arrest and Colton was now behind bars. They’d found more evidence in the house, but I told him I didn’t want to know all the details. He was okay with that, but couldn’t help adding that he’d managed to take of photo of the stew recipe.

“Ugh!!” I hung up on him and tried not to puke.

So… I guess it all worked out, but seriously, I’ll never be able to eat stew again… probably for the rest of my life. Dimples told me catching the killer was worth it, and I guess he’s right. But please… if you ever invite me over for dinner… don’t make stew!

My last post was all about Career Day at the high school and guess what? The lady in charge got back to me. I said I’d come as a consultant for the police. Naturally, I asked Dimples to come with me, and he was planning on it, but had to cancel at the last minute because of a murder.

Sure, that was a good excuse, but it ruined all my plans, and I had to go it alone.

So instead of focusing on police work as a detective, I’d have to tell them about my work as a consultant for the detectives. But it could still work. I could use the brief outline I’d prepared of what happens when a person is charged with a crime, and how a detective would go about investigating it. That seemed easy enough, and whatever time there was remaining, could be turned into a Q & A session.

That might have worked out just fine, but when I got into the classroom, everything I was going to say changed in a flash. Josh and his friends, who included Chloe, had all decided to come to my session. They all knew that I’d helped Chloe out of a dangerous situation because of my premonitions.

With Josh there, I couldn’t get away with anything, especially lying. So I stumbled my way through my initial outline about the investigative process. It only took about five minutes. With nothing left to say, I opened it up to questions.

The first question, of course, was about my premonitions. They wanted to know how they worked… even asking if I got visions. I had to explain that it was more like a hunch after I spoke with someone. Another student asked if I needed an object that the murder victim had touched, or something like that.

I picked up pretty quickly that they were basing most of these questions on TV shows they’d seen. I hated to burst their collective bubbles with the truth that none of that stuff was real, but how could I even think about saying that? Needless to say, it got a little awkward.

At last, someone asked if I could tell them about an experience I’d had helping the police arrest someone. Since I’d actually thought about an experience I could share, I sighed with relief, and began to tell them about a guy who’d been arrested for killing his girlfriend. They ate it up, and it was actually kind of fun. The time flew by, and before I knew it, the bell rang.

The teacher wrapped it up, telling everyone to thank me, and the kids filed out. Josh and his friends each gave me high fives, which was kind of cool.

After they left, I gathered my things. The teacher thanked me for coming, but he didn’t think I’d offered much more than entertainment. It was supposed to be career day – not story-telling day. I hadn’t given them any information about the “real” world.

It might have hurt my feelings, but I had worse things to worry about. I’d picked up that Josh was thinking seriously about becoming a private investigator… because of me. He liked the idea of being his own boss. More than that, he thought it sounded interesting with lots of excitement and never a dull moment. He’d definitely look into it.

Crap! I guess I made it sound too good. I should have added the bad side of the job, like all the times I’d nearly been killed, and how the strain of working for both a mob boss and the police was sure to give me an ulcer.

Of course, didn’t he already know most of that? There were some things I didn’t tell my kids because I wanted to spare them the worry, but now I wasn’t sure I’d done them any favors.

I guess it all comes down to this. Do I want my child to follow in my footsteps? No way! Not even a little. It’s way too dangerous, and bad enough that I’m involved, let alone, him.

So, now it looks like I’m going to have to do a little career searching, so I can suggest other careers for him to consider. It will have to be something interesting and exciting without the worry of death hanging over his head. Maybe Chris could talk to him about being a lawyer. That was interesting, right?

If you have any suggestions, I’d love to hear them!

Until next time…



Recently, I attended my son’s parent-teacher conference. While there, the lady in charge of career day stopped to talk with me. She asked if I’d be willing to talk to students on career day who were interested in becoming private investigators. I could tell them how I got started, give them an estimate of how much money they could make, and explain what the job entailed.

I immediately imagined telling them that I’d gotten my start at the grocery store while shopping for carrots. I’d explain that I’d been caught in the cross fire by a bank robber and gotten shot in the head, thus giving me the ability to read minds – which led me into this perfect career.

I had to admit that I’d get a kick out of seeing their eyes bulge while they wondered if I was for real, or if I was just messing with them. At least it would get their attention, which is a big deal for a bunch of teenagers. Just thinking about doing that brought a smile to my lips.

The lady cleared her throat, wondering what was so funny.

My brows drew together, and I tried my best to look interested. “Do you really have that many students who’d be interested in a career like that?”

“Well, to be honest, I don’t know. I thought I’d ask if you could speak first, and then if there was enough interest from the students, I’d have you as a resource. What do you think?”

I hated to let her down, but I wasn’t a licensed private investigator. “I’m sorry, but I’m a consultant, not a P.I.” Her lips turned down, so I continued, “I consult for the police and I have my own consulting business. It’s different from being a P.I. So you’d probably need someone else.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” she said, then her eyes brightened. “But maybe you could talk to them about your consulting business, and how you got involved with working for the police. I imagine your work is quite interesting, and something the students might want to know.”

“Uh… well that’s a possibility.” I immediately thought of my consulting work for a mob boss. I was sure they’d love to hear about that! I let out a little chuckle.

The lady frowned and scrunched up her nose, wondering why I kept smiling and laughing. Did I think this was a joke or something?

“Uh… but I have a better idea,” I continued, not wanting to give her the wrong idea. “If there is interest in that kind of a career, why don’t we ask a detective with the police? I have a friend on the force who would be happy to come.”

She nodded, thinking that would be a great way to go. “Sure,” she agreed. “But only if you come with them. Your friend can talk about being a detective, and you can share what it’s like to be a consultant.”

“Well… yeah… I guess that would work.”

“Great! Career day is usually in April, so you should be hearing from me soon.” She smiled, excited to have me on board, and thinking she was sure there would be a lot of interest from the students. “Talk to you soon.”

As she walked away, I let out a sigh. What had I gotten into now? I could imagine that Dimples would have enough information to take up most of the time. I’d just have to hope that no one would have questions for me.

Then the biggest realization of taking part in career day hit me. Since I’d built my career on the fact that I could read minds, or as I called it, “premonitions,” how was I supposed to talk about that? I was a consultant for the police because of my psychic abilities. Did they have a career path for psychics? Not in a million years.

If she’d known about that part, I was sure she never would have asked me. Now what was I supposed to do? I sighed, deciding I’d just have to wait and see what happened. There was a chance she wouldn’t call me, but if it ended up that she did, I’d just have to let Dimples do the talking, and pretend I knew something about it.

On the other hand, I could always tell the career day lady that my expertise was in psychic abilities, and if she wanted me to talk about that, I’d be more than willing to share what I knew. That would probably get me off the hook, and I’d never have to worry about hearing from her again.

Yeah. That makes the most sense, but now I don’t know what to do. Which is best? SO – Now I’m asking you. What do you think I should do? Go with the whole premonition thing, or just play along like a normal person? Let me know in the comment section below – but tell me soon, April isn’t too far away!

Thanks for reading!!







Helping the police has always been a little nerve-wracking, mostly because the local mob-boss, Uncle Joey, doesn’t like it much. So I try to keep a low profile when I’m helping my partner, Dimples, or I should say, Detective Harris, solve a difficult case. Since Dimples knows my secret that I can read minds, we make a good team. I also feel like it eases my conscience to help out the good guys once in a while, since I’m sort of obligated to help the bad guys out the rest of the time.

This can sometimes be a little tricky, but I do my best to keep things on the low-down. Even so, things can get complicated. Like today.

Dimples and I were  just returning to the police station when a call came through about a man with a gun at the State Capitol Building. We were only a block away, so naturally, Dimples flashed on his lights and siren, and swerved the car around to rush to the scene.

We were the first to arrive, and Dimples told me to stay in the car, while he jumped out to run inside and save the day. Naturally, I couldn’t let him run into danger like that if I could help. So, much to his consternation, I quickly followed.

“What the … Shelby, you can’t come, you’re not armed.”

“I’ll stay behind you.”

Since there wasn’t time to argue, he just swore a blue streak in his mind, and continued up the steps with me right behind him. Then I caught that he wished I wasn’t there, since he’d have to worry about my safety, and it kind of hurt my feelings. I mean, seriously, I can read minds… that’s a huge help, and it can also keep me safe since I’ll know what’s coming ahead of time, right?

We passed several people running out the doors, and I picked up that the man with the gun had cornered s few people in the rotunda by the busts of all the former governors. As we hurried inside, I relayed that information to Dimples, and his annoyance with me dissipated a little.

As we approached the back of the rotunda, Dimples slowed his steps and then came to a stop just out of sight. We could hear a woman trying to calm the man with the gun, so I took the opportunity to zero in on the man’s thoughts.

His underlying desperation hit me first, but his thoughts didn’t make a lot of sense. The harder I listened, the more I realized I could hear three distinct voices all trying to talk at the same time. They were arguing about doing whatever it took to get what he needed. One was pushing him to put the gun down, but another was arguing to use it to get them to listen to him. It scared me so bad, I jerked out of his head.

“What’s wrong?” Dimples whispered, noticing my widened eyes and shallow breath.

“He’s crazy.” At Dimples’ raised brows, I continued. “I mean, literally… he needs his medication. Wait…that’s what this is all about. He has no insurance and can’t pay so he came here to get help. At least that’s what it sounds like.”

“Do you think he’ll shoot someone?”

“I don’t know…” I listened to the different voices and thought I just might go crazy. Then I caught it. “I don’t think the gun’s loaded.”

“Are you positive?”

Before I could answer, we heard soft footfalls and turned around to find a fully armed and loaded SWAT team slowly coming our way. A couple of them crept up the stairs where they could get a clean shot and take him out before he killed someone.

Knowing I didn’t have much time, I caught Dimples’ gaze, then took a deep breath and walked around the corner. “Hey Benny, it’s Shelby. I’ve got your meds for you.” He turned around, pinning me with his startled gaze, and raising his gun in my direction. “Uh…Jerry wants you to put the gun down now. He says everything’s going to be all right. But you have to put the gun down first. You should listen to Jerry and not Cindy. Jerry’s got the right idea. He doesn’t want anyone to get hurt, and I don’t think you do either.”

Benny’s brows rose  with astonishment. “He… told you that?”


His mouth opened and closed, then he shook his head. “Cindy’s going to be mad.”

“She’ll get over it. You should listen to Jerry and put the gun down. He’s right you know.”

“O..kay. If you’re sure…”

“I am.”

With his brows drawn together in confusion, he lowered the gun to the ground.

Dimples rushed in and kicked the gun away before pulling Benny’s arms behind his back and cuffing him. All at once, police officers came out of the woodwork and surrounded us. They had Benny subdued before I could blink. That’s when I realized that with Benny’s focus on me, all the hostages had taken off.

I glanced toward Dimples to find him examining Benny’s gun and hurried to his side. His gaze caught mine and he shook his head, thinking that I’d taken a hell of a risk talking to Benny like that… because the gun was fully loaded.

“Are you serious?”

He let out his breath and nodded, then thought that even though I was wrong about the gun, I was right about everything else, and it was kind of creepy the way I talked to that guy. But it worked.

I let out a breath, grateful it was over, and a little wigged out by the whole thing. And now I had to worry about the unwanted attention that was sure to come my way. “You did this, not me,” I whispered. “I’ll meet you at the car.” I turned around to get out of there before someone stopped me.

Luckily, I made it to the car before I heard my name. Cringing, I turned to find Billie Jo rushing my way, and knew it was time to lie my head off. “Oh hey Billie, Dimples saved the day in there. You should go talk to him.”

After asking me a couple of questions, she high-tailed it up the steps and I breathed a sigh of relief. That was close, and I thanked my lucky stars that the hostages and the police didn’t witness my conversation with Benny. At least I sure hoped not.







As most of you know, I began my consulting agency nearly a year ago. So much has happened in that time that it kind of blows my mind. To say the least, it has been one adventure after another! I always seem to have my hands full, and right now is no exception.

I’m helping a police detective, whom I call Dimples, with a murder investigation. He found out my secret that I can read minds a few months ago, but he is the only one on the police force who knows the truth. Naturally, he wants my help when he’s assigned a hard case. I usually don’t have too many problems finding the guilty party, since all I have to do is talk to the major suspects and listen to their thoughts. The guilty person always thinks about how they did it, and I can usually wrap it up pretty quick.

But not this time.

So far, every single suspect I’ve talked to is innocent, and my ability isn’t as helpful as I’d like. The police chief is even getting a little upset with me and wondering what happened to my ‘premonitions.’ (This is what I call my ability to keep my secret safe). So now Dimples and I are scrambling to find the guilty party, and I’m finally learning what it’s like to do real detective work.

But after this morning, I’m ready to quit. Some evidence Dimples gathered yesterday makes it look like organized crime might be involved. Dimples actually had the gall to ask me to spy on Uncle Joey. He knows I used to work for Uncle Joey, but what he doesn’t know is that Uncle Joey knows my secret and I still work for him.

I can’t very well spy on Uncle Joey for the police, can I? So what am I supposed to do? If Uncle Joey is involved, does that mean I should warn him about the investigation? Maybe if I did, he could do something to cover up his involvement. But isn’t that aiding and abetting? I could go to jail for something like that.

On the other hand, if I find he’s not involved, that would be a good thing, too. My only way out, is to find the real killer and hope he’s not tied to Uncle Joey. Still, I think I might mention the investigation to Uncle Joey, just in passing, so it’s not like I’m actually warning him about anything. Then he’d be prepared, right?

Besides, I think if Uncle Joey had the guy killed, the body wouldn’t have been at the crime scene. From what I’ve picked up about how he does things, there probably wouldn’t have been a body to find in the first place. So in that respect, it couldn’t have been Uncle Joey, and all my worry is for nothing.

Ugh! See what I mean about quitting? As much as I enjoy having my own consulting agency, it’s not an easy thing to work on both sides of the law. In fact, it’s downright stressful. If I don’t quit the agency altogether, I should probably make a decision to either help the police, or work for Uncle Joey.

Or maybe I’ll just take some time off and quit working for both of them. That way, I’ll only have personal cases to work on, and I won’t end up in such dangerous situations all the time.

Of course, that’s not always true either. I’ve had a few of my own cases that nearly got me killed anyway. See my dilemma? If I had to choose between Uncle Joey and Dimples, I don’t think I could do it. I owe Uncle Joey too much to ever break ties with him, and Dimples is my friend and knows my secret.

So… I guess I’ll just keep going with what I’m doing and hope for the best. As long as I have plenty of Mylanta handy, I should be able to handle it, right? Especially if Ramos is around to save my bacon…and maybe take me on a motorcycle ride or two. But see what I mean about being between a rock and a hard place?



Posted: January 11, 2012 in Thoughts
Tags: , , , ,

My favorite TV show is Castle. It’s about a mystery writer who works with NYPD Detective Kate Beckett and helps her solve murders. He’s in love with her, but she’s got issues and usually a hot boyfriend on the side. I love the humor…even though lately things have been pretty serious. I think Rick Castle is a great character…but am I the only one, or has anyone else noticed that he seems to be getting fat? Especially when he dressed up as Elvis. I don’t know why this bothers me so much, but I am a little disappointed in him. Probably because I think if he really wants the girl, he’s gotta get into shape.