The Dollar-a-Year Detective by William Wells

Author:William Wells
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781579625627
Publisher: The Permanent Press
Published: 2018-08-02T16:00:00+00:00

22.

The Bodyguard

“Don’t do what you did during that Naples case,” Marisa tells me as we stroll along the beach on Sanibel Island, watching the tourists collect seashells. I’d gone undercover as a wealthy member of Naples high society in an attempt to draw the fire of whoever was murdering people with that profile. It worked, but I’d almost gotten killed myself.

When I don’t respond, she says, “Jack, you weren’t thinking about that until I mentioned it, were you? Going undercover, I mean.”

I wasn’t, but it’s a good idea, and I don’t have another, so I want to believe that I would have thought of it, eventually.

She punches me on the arm. “You’re going to do it, aren’t you? Aren’t you?” She stops walking and her face clouds over. “If something happens to you, big guy, I’ll have to go through the hassle of finding a new boyfriend, just as I’m beginning to have you properly broken in.”

“I’d hate to inconvenience you by dying, but I’m sure you’d have no shortage of suitors. Like that boy-toy who takes care of your pool, for one. I’ve seen how he looks at you. And that lawyer who handles your real estate closings. And the guy who delivers your spring water …”

She puts her arm through mine, begins walking again, and says, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But keep your head down anyway. Funerals are such downers.”

I decide that another visit with Lance Porter, the newly minted state representative, will be a good start on Marisa’s undercover idea. I’ll get his thoughts on how best to pull it off. After all, I’m one of his constituents. Maybe he’ll throw in an American flag lapel pin and a tour of the state capitol building.

When I call his office in Tallahassee, the woman who answers assures me she’ll relay my request for a meeting to Representative Porter’s administrative assistant and someone will get back to me. So now that Porter is a VIP, I have to go through at least two gatekeepers to get to him.

I’d appoint my cat, Joe, as my admin assistant, but he already thinks I’m his.

A woman named Lori phones me the next morning to say that Porter’s schedule is very tight—“He has a lot on his plate,” is how she puts it—but that I can meet him the following day at one o’clock at the Capital City Country Club following his round of golf. I always have a lot on my plate too—but that’s at meal times and doesn’t interfere with my schedule.

I tell Lori that’s fine, I’ll cancel my colonoscopy and be there, just to demonstrate how eager I am for the meeting to happen.

“I’ll inform Representative Porter,” she says.

About the meeting, not the canceled colonoscopy, I assume.

Capital City CC is located in downtown Tallahassee, amidst the pine and oak trees of Myers Park. Golf courses are all sylvan wonderlands. It’s too bad that you have to ruin the experience by playing golf.

The brick clubhouse looks a bit like an

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