seymoure

Chapter 9

Why We Drink

“We’re doing documentaries on something,” the filmmaker said, “But I can’t seem to remember what the appointment was about.”

Harriet was saying to herself, “This is nuts,” but simply smiling at the befuddled young man sitting across her desk from her.

The fellow turned to the woman who was dealing with cases of camera, and she gave him a befuddled shrug.

“We normally make documentaries about cute animals and such, but why we are here is beyond me.”

The Private Investigator allowed a smile to continue, although she could find nothing to smile about.

“I’ve got a question,” the camera person ventured, “What is a ‘Private Investigator’ anyway?”

Harriet’s jaw might have perceptibly dropped, just a bit.

“What would anyone do that needed investigating?” the young woman continued, and was joined in a bit of a chuckle by the young man, “I mean, no one’s dishonest, right?”

“Mistakes,” Harriet blurted out, actually thinking about the two people in her office, but not willing to be that honest.

“Huh?” came back the choral answer.

“Ah, people make mistakes, I just find out the mistakes and point them out.”

“Right,” the filmmaker said.

“No one’s perfect!” the detective filled in, again with a bit of ulterior meaning.

“Right,” the pair agreed, without a hint of need or ability to follow an idea any further.

“Well, we’d better go,” the young man said, looking at his small computer device in his hand, “Someone’s reporting a kitten up a tree.”

“Oooh,” the girl cooed, “We want to be there before the firemen!”

“This could be a rating’s bonanza, you understand,” the boy explained to his interviewee that was not to be, “We’ll come back some other time to get your story, ‘kay?”

“Fine,” Harriet said as she opened the bottle of Jack Daniels from her desk.”

“Isn’t it bad to be drinking at all, much less 9 in the morning?” the camera woman asked with true concern in her voice.

“Kitten,” Harriet said, “Tree?”

“Right,” they both said as they bundled their equipment out of the office and were soon gone.

“Heaven help us all,” said the P.I. as she decided to forgo the glass and threw down a hefty amount from the bottle.

She picked up the phone and started to dial Sebastian.

She stopped for a moment, then began again.

“If he is pleasant, I’ll scream.”

Link to Chapter 1
Continue on to Chapter 10