What A Meth (A Gotcha Detective Agency Mystery) (Gotcha Detective Agency Mysteries) by Scott Jamie Lee

Author:Scott, Jamie Lee [Scott, Jamie Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LBB Company (Ryan Lee,Inc.)
Published: 2013-08-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Our destination wasn’t far, but I didn’t think I was going to get away without discussing what Luke Fisher had dropped in our lap. Just in case, I plugged my iPhone into the lighter outlet and pushed my iTunes through the car speakers.

Charles immediately slapped the volume button and turned the music off.

“We are going to talk about this.” He turned in his seat and looked at me.

I kept my eyes on the road to avoid an accident, and to avoid looking at him.

“It’s all speculation. And he said Dominic is ‘in the wind,’ so the man I saw wasn’t Dominic. Besides, I think he’s being evasive. They have to know a lot more than he’s telling us, or it means we’re more intelligent than they are.”

Charles harrumphed. “That’s not really a stretch. I know I’m smarter than all three of them put together.”

“Beside the fact that you’re over the top intelligent, I think they’re hiding things, but that’s because we shouldn’t be privy to them. I think we already know more than they want us to.”

“I don’t give a shit about that. I want to know what you think about Dominic being alive. Are you going to tell Nick?”

I bit my lip. I didn’t want to answer the question. But this was Charles and silence only worked when it was on his end.

“No, I’m not going to tell Nick. Not until I’m a thousand percent sure Dominic’s alive or dead. All this talk about him is making me nauseous. I’m going to say this once, and then I don’t want to hear anything else about him again, understand?”

“Yeah, yeah. What?”

“I believe he loved me with all of his heart, and if he did disappear and isn’t dead, then he did it to protect me. Maybe his family was in dire straits or danger, and he didn’t want me to be involved or hurt, if that is the case. But in my heart, I know he’s dead.” I choked on the last words.

“I believe what you believe,” Charles said. “Now let’s go find us some drug dealing scum.”

I sighed, relieved to have that conversation nipped.

The Montecito Estates was no longer considered McMansions, but back when they were built, the tract housing neighborhood was cutting edge, and many wealthy families clamored to purchase the homes. They were still well maintained, but the wealthy homeowners had moved on, and it was obvious many of these homes were now rentals.

Though Charles hated to be the passenger, he rode quietly in the last few moments, reading something on his phone. When I turned off Ambrose Drive and then approached Montecito Way, Charles looked up and said, “There. That’s the house.”

I looked at the address on my GPS, and he was right. I’d have been fine navigating with the GPS, but for some reason, Charles needed to be the one to point out the house.

Cortnie was right; this house didn’t look like it belonged to someone accepting government assistance. As we approached, I changed my point of view slightly.

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