Okay, not really shameless; just promotion. If I don’t toot my own horn, who will? (One day, that mail list / campaign will happen and when it does, hopefully, my followers will be happy to toot-toot-toot along.)
On the Forever Poi front, the third official case for the Triple Threat Investigation Agency trio: it’s slowly but surely wrapping up. In fact, JJ, Rey and Linda want you to know that this latest case is moving along “swimmingly well”.
The gals have a lot of leads, suspicions and “gut feelings”, but no tangible proof—yet. But they also have have stick-to-it-tiveness (and a penchant for doing things slightly illegally), so there’s little doubt that they’ll be fingering the culprit(s) soon.
Here’s some insight into their “swimmingly well” success so far:
“Man, can that dude yammer. He’s worse than Grandma Columba,” Rey muttered under her breath.
We’d just received a ten-minute “lecture” from Ald Ives after he and his team had completed a preliminary assessment of Bizz Waxx and the studio.
The three of us were seated in a corner on the first floor on uncomfortable wooden chairs with vivid serpents snaking up the legs. Sporting a hint of a beard, Ald looked relatively relaxed and rather handsome dressed in True Religion jeans, a white-and-navy long-sleeved T, and a black full-zip jacket. The derisive tone was the only thing to give away his true mood.
“I heard that, Fonne-Werde.”
She sneered. “You get an ‘A’ for A-1 hearing.”
“You, lady, are in no position to get lippy.”
“We found you a dead body. You should be applauding us.”
With a scowl, he tucked hands into jean pockets and leaned into a wall. “This isn’t the end.”
“Of course it isn’t,” she snorted. “There’s a murderer to catch!”
Exchanging sideward glances, Linda and I swallowed amused smiles.
“And that’ll do from you two!”
With Eru (Hyouka) Chitanda innocence, we stated at the detective.
“Those doleful anime expressions don’t get you off the hook. Haven’t I warned you time and time again about breaking and entering?”
“Mr. Waxx invited us to drop by at any time,” I stated flatly, crossing my arms. (What was a little white lie?)
Crossing hers, Linda nodded. “Yeah.”
“Without a key?”
“He wasn’t around, so we let ourselves in.” I pulled out my cell when Dean crooned. It was just after midnight and Cash Layton Jones was still calling. Give the man ten points for resilience. But then, as he’d once said, we were both as persistent as dogs chomping on bones.
He stepped close and our toes nearly touched. “You entered without a key. That’s otherwise described as gaining admittance to someone’s premises without authorization . . . especially after the use of illegal means to gain said entry.”
“Can you prove there was no authorization? As I said, we had no key, so we had to find another means of access.” I rose. “And ‘illegal’ is a rather dodgy word, don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” Rey slapped her thigh. “You say po-tay-toe, we say poe-tah-toh, but it amounts to the same thing: we did your job by finding the poor guy.”
Ald looked from her to me to Linda, and shook his head. “This is getting too weird for me. Go home and get some sleep. We’ll continue tomorrow—in my office at eleven.”