Ella spent the next couple hours preparing for her journey. She knew, based on the information from Mrs. Dhar, where and when her husband left the house on Sundays. He claimed to go to church, but the length of time he spent out was unusual, unless the man was a pastor. After-church excursions realistically shouldn’t take the amount of time he was spending out. Ella wasn’t sure if he was actually cheating on Mrs. Dhar or not, but if what Mrs. Dhar told her were true, he was definitely up to something.
Ella put on a baseball cap and sunglasses before stepping into the driver’s seat of Lon’s car. She drove carefully to the church parking lot. There were plenty of traffic and red-light cameras in the area, and Lon definitely didn’t need any tickets in the mail. It was Lon’s DUI which had resulted in him hiring Ella in the first place; he needed a driver. Ella only hoped he’d keep her on as his assistant once his year of court-ordered abstention from driving was up.
Ella didn’t earn much in the way of wages for her position as an assistant to a rather low-ranking private investigator, but it gave her the experience she desperately craved, and needed, in order to ascertain what had happened to her mother. She hadn’t the patience to attend and finish the police academy, and such an endeavor wouldn’t afford her the right or time to work on the case she really wanted to focus on, anyway. As a junior private investigator, she could work her way into more and more experience which, she hoped, would result in the wisdom she needed to tackle her mother's case. The main issue with this plan was that Ella didn’t have much in the way of patience, regardless of her indefatigability; she found the constant barrage of cheating spouse and insurance fraud cases brought to her and Lon’s desk insufferable.
Ella was waiting in the crowded church parking lot when the service ended. She knew he did at least regularly attend services; Mrs. Dhar had explained that she knew that much, at the minimum. Ella scrolled through Mr. Dhar’s Facebook photos under her fake profile “Jean Curtis,” waiting for someone of his likeness to exit the building. It didn’t take long for him to exit, although not alone. He was walking nonchalantly with a blonde woman who was certainly not Mrs. Dhar. Ella discreetly snapped a couple photos with her digital camera. She placed a magazine in front of the steering wheel, pretending to be engrossed in its contents while she watched Mr. Dhar walk to the back of the parking lot of the church with the blond.
When Dhar’s car pulled out, Ella followed it, snapping a picture of the license plate as she did so. She stayed a few cars behind him and trailed him to a nearby restaurant. She sat in her car and took photos of them walking into the building; a few minutes later, she herself walked in.
“I’d just like to use the bathroom,” Ella told the host, smiling. He pointed to a nearby door, and Ella walked past the couple into the bathroom. A couple minutes later, she walked out and, pretending to be checking her hair with her phone camera, took photos of the couple. She exited briskly, and drove Lon’s car to a nearby parking lot for observation.
Being in the act of taking photographs or following a person was exciting, but the rest of the time was spent waiting, which was pretty boring. Luckily, the pair weren’t interested in spending much time in the restaurant, and it wasn’t long before they were on the road again. Ella followed them for a while, and eventually they turned into a deserted public park that she wasn’t sure she could enter without drawing suspicion to herself. She was, after all, a single person by herself with no children or reason to be going into the park. Ella chose to park in the main parking lot away from the pair, and walked through the woods in an attempt to view them discreetly.
Ella did eventually come to see the pair through some trees. They were, apparently, having a grand ol’ time on the swingset. Ella snapped a couple photos and continued watching, waiting for something interesting to happen. By this point, Ella was starting to think the pair were simply old friends, or family members, because nothing remotely sexual was happening. All that was happening seemed pretty childish and overall G-rated. Regardless, Ella remained in her position of observation. Lon had warned her never to leave a scene too quickly, as one might just miss the climax.
After a full three-quarters of an hour, the pair finally departed from the playground and got back into the car. Something’s got to start happening now, Ella thought, readily holding the camera to her eye and expecting a kiss, or love making, to promptly ensue. However, she was out of luck; the pair simply drove off, leaving Ella to race back to Lon’s car in order to follow them. Mr. Dhar dropped the woman back off at the back church parking lot and was on his way home. Ella disgruntledly drove back to the office.
“Capture anything?” Lon asked Ella without looking up from his computer.
“Nothing particularly useful,” Ella replied, taking off her jacket and slouching down in her chair. “How long is Mrs. Dhar paying us?”
“Counting today? One day.”
Ella snorted. “I’ve hardly got enough here to prove anything. Mr. Dhar’s definitely cheating, don’t get me wrong. But it’s like he’s living out a Hallmark romance movie with this woman.”
“Emotional cheating,” Lon nodded wisely. “That’s the worst kind.”
“How exactly do you figure that?”
“Well, anyone can have sex with a stranger. It doesn’t have to mean anything. But to have a whole emotional rendezvous with someone other than your wife? Takes a special kind of person.”
“Well it’s a little late now. I doubt this is going to mean anything to Mrs. Dhar.”
“Au contraire, mon friend. Email Mrs. Dhar the photographs and tell her you’d like to proceed with the investigation a little longer. She’ll be confused enough to let you continue, I guarantee it. Women always want to know if their husband is cheating, even if they don’t know what to do with that information.”
“And then what am I supposed to do? Just keep trailing him?”
“One thing emotional cheaters have in common with physical cheaters is the time of day they like to cheat. The later at night, the better. When they’re exhausted and half-asleep, that’s the perfect time for them to cheat. Their inhibitions are lower and their judgment is cloudier, especially if they’ve been drinking.”
“So hope he’s planning on going to a bar?”
“We may need to be a little more creative than that. Maybe offer him a little incentive for him to go drinking. Maybe mail him a bottle of wine to his office. Watch his next move.”
“So we entrap him.”
“You, my darling. You entrap him. I’ve got other shit to do.”
Ella shook her head, sighing. “This is not where I thought my life would be.”
“We’ll get there. One day, we’ll be solving cases for the king. Mark my words. Lon Accardi, P.I. for royalty. I’ll bring you along, too, of course. Someone has to make the coffee.”
Ella threw her pen at him. Lon grinned, then slumped down in his chair, suddenly discouraged.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Ella murmured. “You’ve got a wife, a house you own. A decent car, a decent business. You’ll be fine.”
“I didn’t mean to start drinking again last night,” Lon said.
“I know.”
“It’s very hard. It’s very hard to keep going.”
“It is.”
Lon shook his head. “You’ll see when you get old like me. You lose your youthful exuberance. You start looking and feeling like Mr. Potato Head.”
“Do I seem particularly youthfully exuberant to you? You’re only like 45. I’d hardly call that old. Middle-aged, sure. But don’t give in to a mid-life crisis. What in the world would these people do without you? The whole country of Yaralta would be lost without you. No one would know if their spouse was disloyal, or who was cheating the insurance companies. It’d be a total shitshow.”
“Did I ever tell you about the time I solved a murder?”
Only about eight thousand times in the past eight months, Ella thought, but for once she kept her thoughts to herself.
“I stumbled upon it,” Lon continued. “I was volunteering in a search party for a missing child and, wouldn’t you know, I found him. That’s what happens when you place yourself in the right place at the right time. You find things.” He swelled with pride. “Of course, the cops were practically begging for my help in solving the murder once I found the kid. I blew the whole thing wide open. Got my name in the paper and a medal from the mayor.”
That would explain the newspaper clipping hanging on the wall above your head, thought Ella.
“That must’ve been very exciting for you.”
“Yes, it was magnificent, of course. The only time my talent really shone through.” Lon paused, then looked at Ella with wonder in his eyes. “Why, I’ve got the greatest idea!”
Here it comes, thought Ella.
“We need to place ourselves in strategic locations! We need to see the crime before it happens! That way, when it does, we’re already there to take pictures. We’ll solve every case as it happens!”
“Lon, we both cannot afford and do not have the time to wait around in the ghetto for something bad to happen. Not to mention, that’s incredibly dangerous. I’m not usually the voice of reason, but you might want to listen to me on this one.”
“Well, maybe you’re right,” Lon acquiesced, but it wasn’t long before he spouted out his next oft-recommended, cockamimie idea. Ella wasn’t sure if he had a bad memory or if he thought she did.
Ella was exhausted by the time she got home. Of course, the house never felt like “home” to her these days. It hadn’t since her mother had vanished or, as she believed, died. She could tell from the way the lights were flickering that something was going on inside, which she preferred to avoid as long as possible. She chose, rather than going straight inside, to drive around the neighborhood until she got to her usual spot by the woods. There was a trail there, but no one would be walking it this time of the evening. She grabbed her stress-reliever from the glove box, got out of her car and walked the short way up the trail to the clearing at the top of the hill, overlooking the city.
Ella lit a cigarette with the small lighter she always carried and took a deep inhale. She enjoyed sitting at the top of the hill. It was quiet, serene. Nothing like her “home,” or the people who lived there. Nothing like her jumbled mind and constant, anxious thoughts. Ella preferred nature to whatever else life had to offer. She wasn’t sure she believed much in love, or cared much for money, but she did enjoy the tranquility of marijuana and the gentle, cool night air.
Ella smoked a couple cigarettes and put the rest away. She shivered and glanced down at her right arm. Rolling up her sleeve, she looked at the faded, cigarette tip-shaped scar by the crook of her elbow. Her mind flashed back to the details of that particular event.
“I want Mommy’s books! I want Mommy’s books!” Ella shrieked, arms flailing.
“Hush!” Lacey scolded her. “It’s not like you’re ever going to read them!”
“Yes I will! When I’m big!” Ella pouted.
“Mary-Beth! You are as likely to read ‘Wuthering Heights’ as I am to pick up football! You simply do not have the mind of a reader!”
“I didn’t even think she knew how to read,” Anastasia laughed with Charlotte and her mother.
“I am taking these to the thrift store, so someone can actually get some use out of them!”
“No no no!” Ella screamed, flailing; her arm hit Lacey by mistake. Lacey, her eyes full of anger, tossed the book into the furnace.
“No! I hate you I hate you--” Ella was interrupted. Suddenly, Lacey grabbed her arm, pushing down the tip of her cigarette into her skin. Ella screamed, eyes squeezed shut, while the former laughed, joined by her daughters.
Ella snapped out of her reverie and shook her head. Forget about it, she thought to herself. It’s ancient history.
When Ella finally arrived at the house, it had gotten fairly late. Still, all the lights were on, which meant Ella was unlikely to be met with a quiet, disturbance-free atmosphere. She made her way to the door, reminding herself to try and keep her temper in check.
Anastasia and Charlotte were watching a movie on the couch. Lacey was in the kitchen, stirring a cup of tea with a spoon. Lacey looked the definition of being in denial about one’s age: her hair was dyed dark black and laid on her head in curlers, her heavy makeup unremoved. It would look fine, Ella suspected, if she didn’t wear such dark eye makeup and lipstick, but the whole thing aged her terribly. She had gotten a breast augmentation years ago, but by this point, without any sort of touch-up, they sagged low and took away from the sexiness she had once tried so hard to achieve.
“Out late again, I see,” Lacey remarked. Ella did not comment. “Will you be working tomorrow?”
“No,” Ella answered.
“Ah yes, tomorrow is Monday. Your day off. Well, I have a list of chores for you to do, I’m sure you’ll be happy to see I did not overwhelm your schedule…”
Ella looked over the list Lacey had written out and placed on the coffee table. It was, actually, quite lengthy, and not at all underwhelming. Ella was tired, and annoyed to have to do so much on her one day off, but she bit her tongue.
“Anything to say?” Lacey questioned, trying to egg Ella on.
“No,” Ella murmured quietly.
“Good,” Lacey said. “If you finish all that, I have a few more things I’d like you to do. You may go now.”
Ella trudged up the stairs, feeling annoyed and defeated. Still, she had promised herself she’d try to stay out of trouble with Lacey for a while. The constant battles were exhausting, and unhelpful, and she was in enough stress as it was. She had a full-time job, sure, but it was just barely paying the cost of rent in this godforsaken house. She knew her car was unlikely to last through the winter, which was fast approaching, but she found herself in a terrible position when it came to saving any money. Her only option, it seemed, was to start another job, but she hardly had the time, with her current job and all of her duties at home.
There was another option, of course. Ella could ask her stepmother to start paying her for all the rides she gave to her step-sisters from school, and from wherever else they felt like going, along with all the chores she did around the house. As of yet, she hadn’t gotten desperate enough to debase herself into asking, but the time was drawing near, and she knew it, and she was desperate to find a way out of it. She had been degraded into a less-than being long enough by her stepmother, and the idea of volunteering for further degradation was absolutely appalling. Still, she was running out of options.
Ella shrugged off her clothes and showered quickly, brushing her teeth before falling into bed. She realized she had barely eaten that day, and was starving, but she didn’t care. Sleep was more important to her.
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