The Temporary Detective

Chapter Sixteen

James kicked the latticed metal trash can on the corner of Twenty-fourth and Madison, scattering nervous passersby. Then he whipped out his cell phone and dialed furiously.

"Bill? I've counted to ten twice, now tell me why I shouldn't have a drink."

The calm voice on the other end answered, "Because it's been almost a whole month, and that's a major milestone. You're so close, don't give up now."

"You gotta do better than that, man, because the way I'm feeling right now, I don't give a shit about milestones—I just want a drink."

"Count to ten again."

"Goddammit, Bill, I told you—"

"Do it! Out loud."

Through gritted teeth, James counted to ten.

"All right," Bill said steadily. "Let's think about what's important here. You've got this far, don't let it slip away. Whatever happened, I'm sure it can't be as bad as you think. You wanna tell me about it?"

James kicked a small pile of leaves, which rose and fell in a crunchy swirl. "Nah, it's too stupid."

"Well, if it's so stupid, then it's definitely not worth falling off the wagon."

Bill had a point. Why should he care if that Nikki woman knew he thought she might be dangerous? As far as he was concerned, they all were. Dangerous until proven innocent. No, what was eating him was the helpless look on Isobel's face. He'd painted her into a corner, and then he'd hightailed it out of there. He'd run away like a freaking coward, leaving her to explain.

"Let's focus on the positive." Bill's voice broke into his consciousness. "Anything positive happen today?"

"Lunch with a sexy babe," James admitted. Lunch had been good in that Felice was easy on the eyes and he'd gotten some information out of her. But that thought led him right back to the mess he'd made.

"Well, that's good, isn't it?"

"Mixed, actually. Like a nice scotch and soda."

"James," warned Bill.

"She had too much to drink. She asked me to take her home, but it was a business lunch, and I had no intention of taking her home for just about every reason you can think of. I managed to get her back to her office, and right now she's passed out on her sofa."

"Okay."

"And then I went by to check on this girl—this woman—this girl I've got working for me, and I was telling her something about a co-worker of hers. But I didn't know that this co-worker had come up behind me and heard every goddamn thing I said."

"Ahhhh."

"Don't fuckin' say 'ahhhh!' Just listen. You got me talking, now let me finish. I left my girl hanging. And I went by in the first place to apologize for something I shouldn't have had to apologize for at all, and now both of them think I'm an asshole. And when the sexy babe wakes up on her office couch with a hangover the size of Staten Island, she'll think I'm an asshole, too."

"So three women think you're an asshole."

"That about sums it up."

"You're feeling vulnerable, your self-esteem has been wounded, and the natural thing to do is drink, right?"

"Right."

"Wrong! This is when you need to just stop in your tracks and repeat the Serenity Prayer."