Detective School 101 (A Detective School Mystery) by J.R. Ripley

Author:J.R. Ripley [Ripley, J.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Beachfront Entertainment
Published: 2020-07-29T16:00:00+00:00

36

“What?” James leapt off the sofa, throwing water in every direction.

“Hey, watch it!” Roger pulled out a paper towel and dabbed puddles of water off his papers.

“Can’t you stop her? Talk her out of it?”

“Yeah. There is one way,” Roger said with hesitation. He grabbed a handful of wet papers and shook them out. “You got water all over these contracts.”

“What way?”

“I’ll tell you.” Roger smoothed out the typed contracts on his desk. “But you’re not going to like it.”

“Spill it, already. I’ll do anything.”

“Sheryl wants you to get a job.” Roger leaned on the corner of his desk.

“I’ve got a job. I’m going to detective school.”

“You got thrown out, remember?”

“Temporarily. And I’ve already got a paying client.”

“You’ll be tossed out of school permanently if you’re arrested for murder. Plus, I doubt Kourtney and Dale Rain will be paying you for your services if you’re the one charged with killing their dad. Kids can be funny about things like that.”

Roger was clearly enjoying himself. “Besides, Sheryl wants you to get a real job.”

“A real job? Where am I going to get a real job at this point?” His resumé, lousy to begin with, had been made worse by this whole murder thing. What could he list as his last position of note: Finder of dead body?

“James, I’m glad you asked.” Roger draped an arm over James’ neck and dragged him behind the desk. He slid open a two-drawer oak cabinet.

James watched warily as Roger pulled out three light blue polo shirts and three khaki-colored pairs of cuffed slacks. Each piece was new, wrapped in clear plastic.

And hideous to behold.

Roger dropped the pile of clothes in James’ hands.

“What’s all this?” James eyed the geeky clothing.

“I almost forgot.” Roger grabbed a covered hanger from the brass rack and unzipped it. “Your new blazer.”

James’ mouth fell open. The blazer and the clothes were identical to his brother’s. “You don’t mean—”

Roger flashed a victory smile. “Sheryl wants you to work here.” He held out his hand. “Welcome to Stewart Classic Motors, James.”

“Oh, no. You can’t be serious.” James dropped the pile of clothes on Roger’s desk. “This is a joke, right? You’re putting me on.”

Roger pulled out his smartphone and offered it to James. “You want to call Sheryl? Ask her to verify?”

“You think I won’t?” James snatched the phone from Roger and speed-dialed his sister-in-law. His brother was lying. Conning him.

“Hello, Sheryl? It’s me, James. Roger’s been feeding me a bunch of garbage about how you’re going to charge me with murder if I don’t—” James winced. “Yeah, but—” He tugged at his collar. “Sure, but you see I—”

Roger smirked as Sheryl continued talking and James’ face grew whiter and whiter. For Roger, it was nice, very nice not to be on the receiving end of Sheryl’s wrath for once.

After a minute during which his brother’s complexion and demeanor had changed from that of a cocksure wannabe PI to that of a day-old corpse, James handed Roger back the smartphone.

Roger said goodbye to

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