In the middle of the neighborhood known as Umbridge, there was a rather nice-looking house, without any blinds on the windows. The owners of this domicile likely did not feel a need for blinds; after all, their house was surrounded by tall bushes, which no one had any reason to suspect anything grand to be concealed behind. Of course, the area on the other side of the bushes happened to be public property, which meant, legally speaking, that Ella technically had the freedom to be exactly where she presently was--standing behind one of the bushes with a digital camera around her neck, binoculars pointed upwards at the windows.
The man and the woman on the other side of the windows appeared to be in some sort of heated discussion. The man was standing with his back to the windows, hands on his hips, while the woman stood in front of him; although her face was out of view, she was pointing at the man and making broad hand gestures. Ella kept watching, but made no move to raise the camera. Not yet, she thought, and chanced a glance down at her watch. 12am. Ella sighed, annoyed. She'd liked to have been in bed by now, and wished they would hurry it up.
Ella knew she was one of the most impatient people in the world, and yet she had specifically gone out of her way to choose an occupation which required a tremendous amount of patience. She felt herself growing tired, and tried to keep herself awake by critiquing movie plots in her mind. This proved to be entirely ineffective, and she fell asleep before she knew what was happening. She jolted awake and, the next thing she knew, was looking directly at the scene she’d hoped to find in front of her hours ago.
Ella smiled sardonically. She felt angry at herself for falling asleep, but had the good fortune of waking up at exactly the right moment. She breathed a sigh of relief and positioned the camera to face the window before quickly snapping a couple shots. She then took more care to steady her hand and zoomed in, capturing a couple more detailed, close-up photos of the scene. Having accomplished her mission, Ella then slowly arose from her hiding place and, still semi-concealed, began quickly and quietly making her way off the property.
Ella felt a rush of adrenaline upon making it to her car. She had carried out her mission and managed to avoid any signs of suspicion. She quickly drove out of the neighborhood and headed back towards her house. By the time she arrived, about thirty minutes later, she was thoroughly exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep as deeply as she could before having to wake up and carry out her chores the next day. She quietly turned the key to open the front door, trying not to wake anyone. Of course, her stepmother was still awake, and began speaking to Ella upon her entrance without bothering to turn and face her.
“You’re in late,” Lacey Tremaine said coolly.
“Yes, stepmother, I am,” Ella replied.
“Now, now, no need to be disrespectful,” Lacey said. “I hope you will awaken in time to carry out all your duties.”
“I will, stepmother.”
“Very well. You may go to your room.”
Ella rolled her eyes at her stepmother’s back. She made her way up the winding staircase to the attic, whereupon she entered her room. It was an unfinished attic with wooden beams marking the ceiling and little insulation. It was drafty in the winter and lacked air conditioning in the summer, but Ella didn’t mind too much. She had gotten used to it over the years, and it was a rather large space, regardless. She had plenty of room for her bed, desk, dresser and her pets.
Ella realized she likely had too many pets. Her long-haired, fluffy tuxedo cat Lucifer was outside for the night, but he slept on the bed during the day when he wasn’t up to his usual mischief of chasing outdoor pests and the occasional house mouse. Ella’s dog, Bruno, an aged bloodhound with big, droopy eyes and floppy ears, was too old to go up the stairs anymore. He tromped around the first floor these days, making his way out the pet door and into the fenced-in backyard when he pleased. He was originally Ella’s mother’s dog; he was only a year old when Hailey Tremaine disappeared. Ella knew he likely wouldn’t be alive too much longer, but she preferred to enjoy the time she had with him before his inevitable passing.
Ella had a cage containing three mice: Mary, Merla and Suzy. They were brown mice who she sometimes put funny little hats on to take photos of. She let them out occasionally, but she had to be careful to keep them safe from Lucifer, who would sit in front of the cage, his tail trailing back and forth across the floor, watching and waiting for an opportunity. Ella remembered a parable told by an old psychologist: the gerbil waits for the opportunity to escape his cage, constantly on the lookout, feigning to decamp. What he doesn’t realize is that a hungry cat waits under the cage, prepared to pounce. It was supposed to be a metaphor for how children can’t wait to escape the hold of their parents, but they don’t realize that life is waiting for them, ready to destroy them at the first opportunity. Ella felt as though her cage had been opened long ago, perhaps prematurely; she hadn’t been a child for a long time.
One benefit of the attic was that Ella had her own bathroom. She quickly showered and brushed her teeth before setting her alarm clock and slipping into bed, exhausted. The things I do for a few bucks, she thought, sinking into the uneven mattress. She fell asleep quickly and slept dreamlessly, but her slumber ended prematurely. She groaned and rolled over to turn off the alarm clock on the nightstand. 6am. She had gotten an unfulfilling five hours of sleep. She rolled out of bed and began creeping downstairs to start her morning chores.
By the time Ella had finished preparing breakfast, it was after eight o’clock. She quickly made her way back upstairs to get dressed before work. She washed her face and brushed her teeth before putting on lip balm and mascara, and straightening her hair. Good enough, she thought as she looked in the mirror. She shrugged and made her way to her car. She drove a somewhat embarrassing 1988 Honda Civic with heavily tinted windows. It lacked AC and the radio had broken a couple weeks before; Ella reminded herself to eventually get a new one. The car required a regular jump start, but luckily did not require one this particular morning.
It was a brief drive to Ella’s boss’s house. She pulled into the driveway and stepped out of the car, not bothering to lock it. Anyone desperate enough to steal that car deserved to keep it, she figured. Ella walked to the door and knocked; it was opened by Isabella, who waved Ella inside. Ella shut the glass door behind her and left the wooden door open. Lorenzo Accardi sat at the kitchen table drinking from a coffee mug and rubbing his forehead.
“I may have fallen off the wagon a little last night,” He sighed, glancing up at Ella. Ella turned to Isabella, raising her eyebrows.
“Don’t look at me,” Isabella said. “He was out with the men from the pool hall. I had nothing to do with it.”
“You don’t want to take the day off?” Ella inquired. Isabella shook her head.
“No way,” she said. “He’s driving me crazy. Take him to work. He can handle it. Can’t you, Lon?”
Lorenzo nodded sheepishly, looking a little ashamed.
“Well all right,” Ella spoke. “But I’m not taking it easy on you.”
Lorenzo flashed his award-winning smile. “Lon Accardi never takes it easy,” he said, winking at Isabella. She rolled her eyes and shooed him.
“Up, up,” she said. “Off to work.”
Ella followed Lon out the front door, grabbing the keys from the hook beside it on the way out. She settled into the driver’s side seat and began pulling out once Lon finished buckling in on the passenger’s side. Lorenzo Accardi was a stout, plump man with a full mustache, dark hair and high ambitions, which often outweighed his talent. He was generally talkative, and somewhat conniving, but his current disposition was rather different from usual. The drive to the office was silent, other than the radio, which played Lon’s classical music.
“Ah, Adrian Bocelli,” Lon sighed once the car stopped. Ella unbuckled and made her way to the office door, ignoring him. “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” he continued.
“I just didn’t get much sleep,” Ella explained, unlocking the door and stepping into the small office. She hung her jacket up on the coat rack and set her bag down under her desk. She started up the desktop computer and plugged in the camera from the night before. It didn’t take long for her to get the photos she’d taken printed out. She set the photos down on Lon’s desk before sitting down at her desk once again.
“Great job,” he praised her, chuckling. “We definitely got what the client wanted. Well, what he didn’t want, I suppose. But it doesn't matter. He’ll still have to pay us.”
“I’m so tired of these cheating spouse cases,” Ella complained. “It’s depressing.”
“We must eat, child,” Lon scolded her. She rolled her eyes, then looked up when she heard the bell on the door ring, announcing the arrival of a potential client.
“Madam!” Lon greeted the woman enthusiastically. “How can we help you?”
“I’m told my husband hired you,” she said to Lon. Ella realized this must be the woman from the night before. She looked a little different in person and, well, without her head burrowed into the mattress. “I’m going to need you not to-Are those photos?”
The woman marched up to Lon’s desk and grabbed the photos Ella had taken off the desk; it was of no consequence, as Ella was already in the process of printing out more, but the woman began looking through the photos, her eyes bulging out of her skull.
“This was private property!” she exclaimed. “This is illegal!”
“Actually, it’s not,” Ella cut in. “It’s not private property until you get through the tree line. Behind the tree line is public property, which means I am legally allowed to take scenic photos.”
The woman turned on her heel to face Ella angrily. “You think you’re better than me?!” she cried. Ella was about to answer yes, she did, when Lon cleared his throat, interrupting.
“Not at all, madam,” he said. “We are merely private investigators, doing our jobs. It’s nothing personal.”
Ella, who was already fired up, hoped the woman would continue with her tirade, but the woman’s husband happened to walk through the door before she got a chance. He rushed in and looked between his wife and Lon.
“I’m sorry, I told her not to come here,” he said.
“How dare you not trust me?!” the woman shrieked, hiding the photos behind her back. Ella casually lifted the reprints from the printer and held them out to the husband. He took hold of them before the wife could stop him.
“Abigail,” He gasped. “How could you?” He pawed through a couple photos before setting them down, apparently unable to look anymore.
“This isn’t what it looks like!” she said defensively. She began a long string of explanations, which she stammered out in a semi-convincing fashion, although there was no point. Photos don’t lie; people do.
After several minutes of arguing, the woman finally stormed out of the office in typical dramatic fashion. The man looked on the verge of tears, not that Ella could blame him. His marriage had just ended.
“I’m so sorry for the way things turned out,” Lon said. He handed the man the photos and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I had so hoped this would have turned out differently. I know this must be extremely difficult for you. Let us not forget, it is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all. To help ease your pain, I will simply mail you the check…” Lon walked the man out the door, shutting it gently behind him.
“That saying is for when people die, Lon,” Ella informed him.
“Not like you were any help,” Lon scoffed, shaking his head. “Do figure out a way to get your temper in check, will you? A P.I. must be level-headed and calm at all times.”
“Whatever,” Ella said, rolling a pencil around in her hand.
“What were you planning on doing today?”
“Your job.”
“Haha. You’re so funny. It’s so shocking you don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Fine. I am planning on trailing that guy from the other day. The one that woman, Mrs. Dhar, wanted us to check out. Another cheating spouse case. What about you?”
“Updating the website, then I’ve got a couple appointments, which you need not be present for.”
“I am not going to interfere in your employee-client relations, Lon. You’re better with the whole talking to people thing than I am, anyway.”
“That’s for sure.”
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