P.I

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Henderson.”

The polished woman in front of me is crying. No, sobbing. Her manicured nails, perfect makeup, and designer clothes... Well, it screams money. The kind of woman that would step over you if you were lying in front of her with a broken leg, begging for help.

I hate people like this. Thinking that they're better than everybody else. Of course, there could be more behind the facade, but in this case, not so much.

Now, the inevitable question comes.

“But why? Why would he cheat on me?”

I mentally roll my eyes. This can’t come as a surprise. She hired me to find out if her husband was cheating on her and, sure enough, he met with his secretary at a motel twice a week.

I give her my best sympathetic look and say, “I’m sorry, I can’t answer that, I can only give you the evidence in the form of pictures. I can’t give you answers to why.”

As a P.I, most of my clients are paranoid women. Some are more paranoid than others. Nevertheless, 85% of the suspected cheating husband cases are true.

Mrs. Henderson dries her eyes, takes the file I got on her husband, and stands up.

“Thank you for your help, Julia. You're worth every penny.”

We shake hands and I show her out of my small office.

My services are expensive, but that’s because I’m good at what I do. Damn good.

Turning around, I look at my office. It’s small with a single white desk and two comfortable chairs and a soothing cream color on the walls. It’s important that my clients feel safe and comfortable here. That way they trust me more.

My next client is in ten minutes, so I sit down at my desk and eat a banana while I check my email on my laptop. I furrow my brows when I see a mail from my best friend, Brian, with the subject, 'PARTY'.

Of course he would send a mail about that instead of telling me. I’m not particularly fond of the parties he and his partner, Jack, throws because even though they know I hate dating, Jack, always have a guy in mind for me.

I can’t hate him for it, though, but I’m perfectly fine by myself. Rather being that than in a relationship with a guy who cheats on me.

Sighing, I pull my waist long, blond hair up in a high ponytail while trying to think of an excuse not to attend the party. I have an important case? I need to walk my dog? Well, I don’t have a dog, so that would be stupid. Maybe I should get one?

I'm snapped out of my thoughts when there’s a knock on the door and I go to open it. Outside is a short woman, looking a little scared. I give her my best smile and ask, “Miss Saunders?”

She nods with a small smile. I step aside to let her in. Going straight for the chair, she sits down, fidgeting with her purse. I sit down behind my desk and smile again before I ask, “so, what can I do for you?”

She swallows. “Uhm, my fiancé is missing” I nod. “Okay. Have you filed a missing person’s report with the police?” She looks down and shakes her head no. That’s when the first red flag goes off in my head.

“Can you give me more information?” I ask her before I get ready to write on the note pad in front of me.

She rummages through her purse and pulls out a photo and says, “yeah, his name is Oliver Harris.”

My ears perk up. That name is familiar. Very familiar.

She shows me the photo and, sure enough, staring back at me is my big-time crush from college. Shit, he still looks good. Dammit.

“I haven’t heard from him in a week and I’m getting worried,” she says. I nod again. I really shouldn’t take this case. Bad idea, bad idea!

“Okay, where did you see him last?” I find myself asking, which makes me want to punch myself. Didn’t I just tell myself it was a bad idea?

“At home,” the woman says before she gives me her address, only thirty minutes from here. “He went to the supermarket, but he never came back.”

That doesn’t sound good.

I scribble down all the info she gives me. He’s twenty-eight. I knew that. He’s a computer programmer. I didn’t know that, but it makes sense since we took a lot of the same classes in college.

“What about a phone number?” I ask her. She looks down and shakes her head. Ding, ding ding. Second red flag.

She doesn’t have her fiancé’s number? What the hell?

I push all the questions swirling around in my head away and put on a smile before I say, “alright, I think I have what I need to get started. I have your number, so as soon as I find anything, I'll contact you”

With a small nod, she gets up and I follow her to the door. Before I can open it, she grabs my hands and looks at me pleadingly. “Please find him. I... I can’t live without him.”

I pat her hand and smile at her, reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I’m good at my job and everyone leaves a digital trail.” Except me. I guess being a hacker makes me a little paranoid that way.

With another small nod, she leaves, and I slump down on my chair behind my desk, sighing. I kind of want to get started right away, but I had a late night because I had to close some cases, so I pick up my notes before I head out of my office while thinking that this case is going to be exciting. I wonder what Oliver has been up to these last years and my nosy self can’t wait to find out.

When I get home, I unlock the door to the apartment, go inside, and shout, “HONEY, I’M HOME” Brian’s head peeks out from the living room and he give me an amused smiles. “You do know that you don’t live here, right?”

Making my way into the living room, I kiss him and Jack on the cheek and slump down on their couch.

“I know, I know,” I say as Jack hands me a glass of wine and I smile at him gratefully.

“How was your day?” he asks.

He’s a cop and just as nosy as I am. But I don’t talk about my clients with him. They trust me with personal information and problems and that stays with me… Usually.

“Something interesting actually.”

Jack’s eyes light up, but Brian just looks shocked. He knows I never talk about my cases.

“Do tell,” Jack says. I take a sip of wine and smile at them lovingly. I absolutely love these guys. They’re my family.

There’s not a doubt in my mind that Brian is my soulmate. Not in a romantic way of course, but we can’t live without each other. I’m his yin and he’s my yan.

Oh, did i forget to say...

Brian and I used to be together. We met a couple of months after college and immediately hit it off. We were together for a year until one night, he broke down and confessed that he was gay. I was heartbroken, of course, but I later realized it wasn’t because I loved him in a romantic way, but because he was my soulmate and he had been hiding his true self from me.

After that, we didn’t speak for a year; but I couldn’t stay mad at him. He hadn’t cheated or anything and trying to hide who he truly was must've been so hard. I should've known, though. Looking back, there were just too many signs, but I was blind.

Years after I started my investigating firm, I met Jack through my work and introduced him to Brian. They started to date and here we are.

I look at them for a moment before I ask, “do you remember Oliver?”

“Oliver Harris? As in Oliver your big crush in college? Oliver, who no other man could ever live up to? Oliver, the one who slept with your sister and then you? Oliver, the only man who ever gave you an orgasm? That Oliver?” Brian asks, increasingly raising his voice.

I bite back a smile and nod. “Yes, that Oliver. And he didn’t know he was sleeping with me. He thought I was my sister, remember!?”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

My twin sister Helena was, of the two of us, the wild one. I kept to myself, observing instead of participating while she did the exact opposite. She partied like there was no tomorrow and slept with whoever she wanted.

She was stunning. Beautiful blond wavy hair. Mine can’t decide if it wants to be straight or curly. She had the brightest smile and she had a permanent sun kissed tan.

The night I slept with Oliver, I wanted to be like her. She didn’t love him at all, he was just a hookup at parties.

One night, when she was visiting our parents, there was a party at Olivers frat house. I don’t know why, but I got dolled up and wanted to get shitfaced.

I guess I wanted to feel what it was like to be beautiful and popular. I didn’t mean to sleep with him, but when he spun me around and kissed me because he thought I was her, I couldn’t stop myself. My huge crush on him wanted to be near him and to get touched by him just once, and it was the best night of my life.

I, of course, told her everything about it. I felt so guilty for having done it, but she just smiled and hugged me before saying it wasn’t a big deal. After that, they were never together again, which I was secretly grateful for.

Brian rolls his eyes and I bite back another smile because I’m secretly excited about the case. Then I say, “apparently, he’s missing. His fiancé is looking for him.”

Jack furrows his eyebrows. “I don’t remember any new missing person’s reports.”

“Yeah, that raised a red flag. Especially when she said she didn’t have his phone number either.”

“Well, that’s just weird,” Jack says, and Brian sighs. “And of course you couldn’t say no to the case.”

I bite my bottom lip “No. I mean, if he’s missing, I want to find him. Make sure that he’s okay, you know?”

“And if he happens to end up in your bed, you wouldn’t object to that.” Brian wiggles his eyebrows and I slap his arm. “He’s engaged, remember?”

"Yeah, yeah."

We chat for another hour before I go home. Exactly two floors above them.

Unlocking the steel enforced door to my apartment, I go inside and kick off my shoes before I lock it again. I was attacked once by a very angry husband who blamed me for ruining his marriage. He did that all by himself when he cheated, but it’s much easier to place the blame on someone else.

So, I ended up in the hospital, with two broken ribs and a severely bruised face and body. That’s why I have some extra security in my apartment, which is a small loft and I have moved my office into town instead of meeting clients at home.

Going into my small kitchen, I grab a power drink, a bag of gummy bears, and my bag. Then I walk over to the living room wall, open up what looks like a power socket, punch in a code, and scan my thumbprint. I told you; I’m paranoid.

The wall slides aside, opening up to the holy of holies. My computer room. My safe space. Also called 'the cave'. If anything should happen, it also functions as a panic room. Then I only have to press in the code 911. That will immediately alert the police.

The wall slides closed with a low wooshing sound, and I turn on the three computer screens before I sit down in the comfortable gaming chair. I spend a lot of time here. Comfy is key.

Opening my bag, I take out my notes and start up the searching program I designed myself. My fingers gracefully glide over the keyboard while I type in Oliver’s name. I find his FB account and Instagram too. I scroll through posts and pictures, feeling a slight tug in my stomach.

Damn. He’s gotten even hotter over the years. His features have become more defined, but the boyish grin off his is still the same.

I remember our night together. After three rounds of wild, mind-blowing sex, we cuddled in his bed, talking, joking, and laughing. I felt so relaxed. I could be myself with him. Not the introverted person I was in public, but the happy, nerdy one I was privately.

Oh well.

Off social media, I got his phone number and email. It was just too weird. Why didn’t his fiancé find this? It was so easy to find. After a little more digging, I even found his credit info and address, which isn’t the address she gave me, but one twenty minutes from here.

All the red flags in my head come to the conclusion that she’s not his fiancé. Maybe she’s a stalker? One thing’s for sure. She won’t get the information I find until I’m at the bottom of this and for that to happen, I need to contact him. Crap.

I won’t do that now, though. I need a little more info before I do that. Maybe I should see if I could find something about her instead. I got her name, number, and what I assume is her address.

Maria Saunders.

Typing in the commands in my program, I find her FB profile. No pictures and not any significant information. I dig into her credit info and there’s only some purchases at a grocery store.

Hmm.