Campbell looked over as the red light on the antiquated intercom blinked. He set his half eaten sandwich down and pressed the button. “What is it now, Mary?”
“Your 3 o’clock is here,” the disembodied voice stated unrepentantly.
He glanced at the clock as he racked his brain for the client’s name.
“Shall I send Miss Forth in?”
“Give me 5 minutes,” Campbell stood and began tossing empty food wrappers in the trash.
“I’ll give you ten.”
“Why did I have to hire my sister-in-law?” he muttered. He began gathering the loose case files from the cluttered desk. Scooping them up, he carried them to the dented metal file cabinet and dumped them into the bottom drawer. Opening the top drawer, he swore under his breath as the door to his office creaked.
He glanced away from his files to see Miss Forth studying the brown trenchcoat and fedora with amusement in her emerald eyes. He cleared his throat. “People have certain expectations when they hire a PI,” he frowned as he removed the manila folder with her name on it.
“It’s a nice touch,” she smiled as she approached his desk. “You didn’t have it when I was last here.”
“Mary added it recently,” he sank into his chair, put his sneakered feet on the desk and opened the case file as she sat opposite him. He ran a cursory glance over the page before looking up at his client, “Miss Forth,”
“Amelia, please,” her smile faded around the edges.
“Amelia, how long have you and Bill been engaged?”
“6 months.” She twisted the diamond ring on her left hand, “We’re still deciding on a date.”
“Any idea why?”
“Bill's mom is supposed to be our wedding planner, but she doesn’t seem to have the time to meet with us.” Amelia’s expression was blank, “Does this have anything to do with why I hired you?”
Campbell removed the envelope of pictures from the file and slid it onto the desk as he put his feet on the floor, “Miss Forth,”
“Amelia,” she corrected.
“I’m afraid your suspicions were right,” he struggled to keep his voice even.
“Bill has been cheating,” she nodded.
“It’s more than that,” Campbell pushed the envelope towards her. “These were taken at his wedding last week.”
He studied her lack of expression as she looked through the pictures.
Setting them neatly on his desk, she stood. “I’ll leave a check with Mary,” she spoke calmly and turned towards the door.
Campbell frowned after her. Something kept nagging at his mind. She had been way to accepting of her fiancé’s infidelity. Shaking his head, he left the office. “Cancel the rest of my appointments,” he looked down at Mary.
She smirked up at him, “You have no more appointments, but if anyone shows up, I’ll send them to Mal’s.”
“You do that,” he said as he left the building. He walked down the crumbling block and crossed the street to the watering hole all the local cops called their own. Going inside, he walked directly to the bar and sat down.
“The usual?” the bartender asked without glancing up.
“Make it a double, Mal,” he replied as he watched the whiskey being poured.
Mal sat the glass in front of him and took the money Campbell had laid on the bar, as the door swung open. “Looks like MacGregor’s not having a good day either.”
The middle aged man sat next to Campbell and looked at his glass, “I’ll have what he’s having.”
“Looks like you’ve seen a ghost,” Campbell glanced over to him.
“Wish I had. Just came back from a double homicide.” Macgregor lifted his drink, “Newlyweds, no less.”
“Yeah? Was it nearby?” Campbell looked into his glass.
MacGregor gestured behind him with his head, “The big ugly place on Hill Road. The guy’s face,” he cringed, “one of the worst things I’ve seen on this job.”
Campbell finished his drink, “That’s the Thompson place, isn’t it?”
MacGregor nodded and lifted his glass.
“Any clues?”
“Nothing; we’re hoping forensics will find something though.”
“Talk to the fiancée yet?”
“I told you, they were newlyweds,” MacGregor stated bitterly.
Campbell stood and started for the door.
“Leaving so soon?” MacGregor turned to look at him.
“I have to get to the bank before it closes,” Campbell opened the door without looking back.
