Missing Purrsons

Rosalyn Stone felt a rush of doubt as she stared at the unfamiliar office. She knew she could be too nosy for her own good sometimes. Her sister liked to say she had a curiosity that could kill a cat. This could be just another misstep. Possibly a step too far, even. After all, who really hired a private investigator?

The office of Jameson Hunt sat on a quiet small town road. Wedged between an antique store with a vintage nursery set on display out front and a coffee slash chocolate shop with two little round tables under an awning, the office looked absolutely unextraordinary. Maybe that was a good thing. A big flashy sign above the door wouldn’t exactly scream discretion.

“Just do it,” she muttered to herself, before forcing herself out of her car. She’d already made up her mind so there was no point in second guessing.

With her backpack-style purse dangling from one hand, she approached the door that read, Jameson Hunt, Private Investigations. She pushed open the door and caught the tail end of a male voice saying, “...now I’m serious.”

Only the office was empty inside.

The room she entered was simple, with mostly bare walls and minimal furniture. A large desk sat center with a couple guest chairs, some wooden filing cabinets lined the back wall, and that was pretty much it. The source of that voice was as nonexistent as the decor.

Then a head popped up from behind the desk.

“Oh!” Rosalyn jumped, hand flying to her chest.

The man looked as startled as she felt, his wide eyes falling on her as he rose to his full height. They stared at each other for one awkward moment, then he composed himself first.

“Can I help you?” he asked simply, as if he hadn’t just been on the floor for some reason.

“Oh my gosh, you startled me,” she said with a breathy laugh. She shook her head at herself and walked further into the room.

The man who stood there now appeared to be in his early thirties, probably not too much older than her, and she found him strikingly handsome. He had a nice build, tall but not towering. His thick brown hair was swept back with a few locks falling loose down his forehead. A strong jawline framed pouty lips that looked perfectly kissable.

He was way more attractive than he had any business being. A hint of butterflies stirred in her chest just from focusing on him. She tried not to show it as she thought instead about his question.

“Uhh, so, yeah... I’m looking for the detective. Jameson Hunt?”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s me,” he answered.

“You’re the detective?” She blinked in surprise. She expected some older guy, like a retired cop. Maybe with a belly hanging over his belt or a balding hairline. Instead, here was the freaking Hollywood version!

“Yeah...?” he replied, tilting his head at her quizzically.

That instantly made her feel stupid for her reaction. It didn’t matter at all what he looked like. But he hardly looked at her long. He looked down, distracted by something near his feet. She didn’t know what could possibly be going on behind that desk. She hesitated, thinking he would say more... and he didn’t even look back to her.

She wasn’t exactly getting a good first impression.

“Umm... Is this a bad time?”

His brow was tense with annoyance as he looked back to her. Then he said, “It’s fine. I was just trying to get this cat out from under my desk.”

Uh. What? That was so random, she had to laugh.

“There’s a cat under your desk?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t share her amusement. Not even a spark. “Hold on, will you just give me a minute?”

He didn’t wait for an answer before he disappeared behind the desk again. It was a hefty wooden desk with a modesty panel across the front, so she couldn’t see anything underneath.

She held a grin on her face as she moved close to the desk for a better look. Sure enough, a cat came bolting out. A mostly white cat with a few grey spots and a grey striped tail.

It ran around to her side and jumped onto one of the guest chairs. The cat sat and tilted its little furry head in the most adorable way. It was an adult cat but on the small side. Clean and healthy-looking. Obviously someone’s house cat.

She heard Jameson grumble something under his breath as he got back to his feet. The kitty was looking at her with his cheeks curled in the telltale smile of a feline.

“Your cat is so cute,” she gushed.

“He’s not my cat,” Jameson said, still sounding annoyed. He came around the desk and the cat quickly jumped down to hide behind her legs. What a funny little thing!

“He’s not yours? What’s he doing in here?” Rosalyn twisted to look as the cat rubbed against the back of her jeans.

“He’s...” Jameson seemed to hesitate. “It’s a long story. Lemme just get him in the back room and we can get to discussing what you came for.”

She was intrigued by his strange reply. A long story? How complicated could it be? She really wanted to pry, though him mentioning what she came for reminded her that she wasn’t here to talk about cute kitties.

“Oh, you can leave him. I really don’t mind. I love cats,” she said with a smile.

Jameson wasn’t smiling. He stared down at the cat for a long moment, then he let out a sigh of resignation.

“If you insist,” he said.

She didn’t know how he could be so unhappy with such a sweet creature. She was tempted to squat down and pet the cat, but then it was jumping back onto the chair. It sat there looking at her again and it was honestly hard to pull her attention back to the other human in the room. But she did come for a reason, so she sat in the other chair, pulling her purse onto her lap.

Jameson took his seat behind his desk. He grabbed a notepad off a stack of folders and pushed some papers around to find a pen that had been lying loose. The desktop was a cluttered mess. There was a coffee cup sitting on top of a manila envelope, and yellow Post-Its were stuck randomly over the desktop. A letter bin sat on one side of the desk, filled high with folders that probably needed to be filed.

Rosalyn’s eyes traveled over the desk as she waited for the detective to get ready. She needed to get her mind back on track. She played out what she wanted to say and how she should explain. Hopefully Elsie could forgive her. Hopefully the detective wouldn’t think she was being ridiculous. Hopefully...

Oops, his hands were still. She looked to his face and she caught him staring at her. He wasn’t looking at her eyes or even glimpsing her breasts, but rather, his gaze was fixed somewhere else on her face. When he noticed her attention, he cleared his throat and quickly looked away.

What was that? Did she have something on her face? She knew she had a bad habit of getting food on her face, and now feeling self-conscious, she casually wiped her hand over her mouth.

“So, I didn’t get your name,” he said, as he pushed a hand through his hair to get the loose strands out of his face. He met her eyes and she noticed his were a remarkable shade of light green. Not that she needed to admire him. If she did have a smudge of food on her face, he probably thought she was a slob.

“I’m Ros. Uh, Rosalyn Stone,” she answered.

He scribbled her name on the notepad.

“Alright, Ms. Stone,” he began. He had a subtle yet distinct Texan accent. “What can I help you with?”

The question brought her doubt to the surface. Again she wondered if she was making the right choice. She looked down, where her hand was fidgeting with her purse, and hesitated to answer.

“Ma’am... are you in any kind of danger?”

Jameson’s voice pulled her back. He didn’t sound impatient or annoyed now. There was concern in his voice. She saw that concern mirrored in his eyes. This man who didn’t even know her was genuinely worried for her.

She wasn’t used to that. Aside from her sister, she didn’t have anyone looking out for her. For a long time, it had been only the two of them. With that simple question, he made her feel like finally there was someone else to help them. Maybe this was the right place to be.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” she replied. “But thank you. It’s just... I’m not here for myself. So, I keep debating if this is the right choice.”

Jameson visibly relaxed. “Well, you’re here now, so why don’t we talk it out? There’s no charge for just walking in my door.”

Rosalyn mustered a smile and, to her pleasant surprise, he cracked a smile back. It was small, just a tug on one side of his mouth, but it still somehow brightened his entire demeanor.

“You’re not gonna lay a sales pitch on me?” she replied in a joking tone. Laughing it off was always her default way of dealing with stress.

“I mean, we can talk money first if you’d rather,” he said with a straight face but a glimmer of humor in his eyes.

She laughed and said, “I think I’ll take the talk first option.”

“Alright, I’m all ears.” Jameson gave her a smile that made her heart flutter. It was another small smile, and she could imagine how much hotter he’d look with a full-blown grin.

She pushed her hair behind her ears and focused her thoughts.

“Okay, so... I’m here because of my sister. Elsie. She’s getting married in a few months and I’m really worried her fiance might be cheating on her. I know this probably sounds super weird, when it’s not even my relationship, but I can’t just let her marry a cheater.”

Jameson’s expression drew serious as he shook his head.

“It’s not weird at all. What I’m hearing is that you care about your sister,” he said.

“I do. She’s the most important person in my life. But she thinks I’m overreacting. She doesn’t want to confront him about it, so I just don’t know what else to do.”

“That does sound like a tricky situation...” He paused, tapping his pen against the notepad, and she was struck with a fear that he might not want to take this unusual case. “Tell me, why do you suspect he’s cheating on her?”

Rosalyn’s gaze fell to her purse. Would he think her reasons were silly? She didn’t have any solid proof. If she did, she wouldn’t need a private investigator. All she had was suspicion. Her sister thought she was seeing things that weren’t there simply because she was scared of being left alone. For a while, she’d wondered if her sister was right. But the more time that passed, the more certain she felt that something was going on with her sister’s fiance.

“It’s just a lot of little things... I guess I should explain. I’m living with Elsie and Shawn. Or rather, I was living with Elsie, and then Shawn moved in with us. He sold his house and they’re having a new house built for when they get married. So, you know, it was easier for him to live with us now instead of them trying to rent a place in the meantime...”

She realized she was rambling and she took a breath to get on track.

“Anyway. Ever since he moved in, I’ve been noticing things. He’ll take these calls and say it’s work, but it’ll be late at night and he’ll always go into the other room. I’ve heard him take other work calls in the middle of the day, and he doesn’t care at all if anyone’s around, so that’s weird. And he goes places. I don’t know where, and my sister never knows either, but he’ll be gone for hours sometimes. He just says something vague like it’s for work, and Elsie just accepts that. I mean, maybe it is? I really don’t know. I could be wrong. I know this sounds weak. I’m just worried for my sister.”

She sighed, yet when she dared lift her head, she saw Jameson looked interested.

“It’s something. If he’s not cheating, he’s sure sending up some red flags for some reason,” he said, and she felt relief to have her fears validated. “I can find out where he’s been going.”

“Thank you. I really hope I’m wrong... but I need to know what he’s been up to. I do have something that might help.”

She opened her purse and pulled out some folded paper. It was four sheets. One of them loose and the others stapled together. On the solo page, she’d written out the information she thought he might need about her sister’s fiance. The other pages were a printed list with several random lines highlighted in bright blue highlighter.

She held the stapled group out for him to take. “I got a copy of his call log. This number I highlighted is the one he keeps making those secretive calls with.”

She knew that much because she had started to note down the times they happened. It was disheartening to see that number appear more often than she even expected.

Jameson took the papers and let out a low whistle when he looked them over. “Damn, looks like he’s been real chatty with whoever this is.”

“Yeah...” Rosalyn frowned. “I tried to Google the number, but I couldn’t find out who it belongs to.”

“You sure you even need me?”

She thought he’d say something serious, so that instead made her laugh.

“No offense, but you’re a last resort.”

That got a light chuckle out of him in return, and she couldn’t believe how comfortable she felt around him. They had just met, and they were discussing something that was troubling for her, yet here they were sharing an easy laugh.

“None taken. So what else can you tell me about this shady fiance?”

“Well, I wrote down his name, where he works... a bunch of other stuff I thought might be useful for you.” She offered the solo page, and he reached across his desk to take it.

He looked over the paper, and he had a few more questions, making some notes of his own. Rosalyn answered everything as best she could. She did feel guilty, handing over Shawn’s personal information to a stranger. Jameson Hunt seemed trustworthy, though, so she hoped yet again that she wasn’t making a mistake.

He asked for her own contact number, and she realized she hadn’t even thought to include that with everything else. They talked about his price, and a few other legal technicalities. He then decided he had everything he needed to get started. He got up from the desk, to walk her to the door.

Rosalyn stood, but she paused to pet the cat that was still seated on the other chair. “Bye, kitty.”

The cat gave a cute little meow, sounding like he was responding to her, and she laughed. She heard Jameson sigh, however, and looked to see him standing by the door. That took her smile away. She hadn’t meant to make him wait on her. She just couldn’t leave without petting that cat.

“Sorry. That cat is just too cute,” she said. “Thank you for doing this.”

“It’s no problem, Ms. Stone. You rest assured, I’ll find you the answers you’re looking for.” He extended his hand, his impatience gone, and she smiled once more as she returned the handshake.

Her hand slipped into his, and those butterflies came back with a vengeance. She looked into his eyes, as she stood so close to him that she could smell his cologne, and suddenly it felt to her as if the moment was more intimate... Then he took his hand back, and she felt embarrassed for even thinking such a thing. Of course it was nothing more than a polite gesture.

She looked away as she felt herself blushing.

“Thank you again.” She wanted to say something more articulate, but he got her flustered, and then he was opening the office door for her. She gave him a polite smile and made her exit.

She walked back to her car and dropped into her driver’s seat. Well... it was done now. Whether or not Shawn was cheating, she was going to find out for sure. She would no longer be standing idly by while her sister walked into a marriage surrounded by doubt. If it turned out Shawn was innocent, well it would just be money well spent, and a secret she could keep to herself. If he wasn’t... She’d cross that bridge when she came to it.