Hey, it’s Rey again. Lindy-Loo’s “too busy” to post today. Whatever.
He-he. I’m never one to be/play coy, as you who know l’il ol’ me are totally aware of . . . so-o, here you go . . .
You can get Forever Poi for a bargain at 99 cents!
Forever Poi is our third official (and paying) case, which has MIA Linda, Cousin JJ, and me determining who set fire to two upscale Chinatown art galleries and left two bodies in the ruins. One was the co-owner. It’s possible his partner may have wanted to collect the insurance money. The other: a former queenpin whose past may have caught up with her.
Here’s a tidbit, as told by Cousin Jilly (JJ):
Ald adjusted the volume. “Two galleries are pretty close to being cinders, specifically the ones belonging to Carlos Kawena and James-Henri Ossature. Weren’t you supposed to be here for Carlos’ 6-tu-8 do?”
“I had to be somewhere. But I had drinks with Carlos last night to celebrate his forty-sixth and he provided a sneak-peak of the exhibit.” Xavier’s voice had taken on a serious, business-like tone. “What happened? Is he okay?”
“We found a body that wasn’t recognizable. All I know at this stage is that it’s pretty certain the fire was no accident. The only thing I can confirm is the little intimate soirée ended at eight on the nose. He’d planned to leave the gallery no later than 8:20 to be at a snooty function at nine. The fire was called in at 8:35 p.m.”
“Did he show up at that affair?”
“He didn’t tell me much about it. And I haven’t been able to reach James-Henri.”
Rey, Linda and I gazed solemnly at one another.
“Where can I meet you?”
“I’m at the Triple Threat Investigation Agency.” Ald snickered and rolled intense Maya-blue eyes. He’d always found the name of the agency comical, but hadn’t mentioned that until a few weeks ago. In truth, I’d never liked it much either, but my theatrical over-the-top cousin, also a part-time actress (commercials primarily these days), had insisted upon it. Arguing with her was rarely worth the effort, so the Triple Threat Investigation Agency it was.
“Be there as quick as I can.”
“We need serious caffeine, A, not the watered-down crap I see sitting in a pot across this office.”
“You got it.”
Ald replaced the mobile and exhaled at length. Facial lines were beginning to deepen and a thick, notched scar along the right temple was pulsing, sure signs he was growing both fatigued and irritated.
“A?” Linda asked, getting up and stretching.
“A for adjuster,” he replied with a pert smile. “That’s what he does for a living.”
“Does that mean we call you D for dick?” Rey asked breezily.
If you’d like to check out our challenging if not crazy (body-heavy) case, you can do so here: https://www.amazon.ca/Forever-Poi-Tyler-Colins/dp/1079716483
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