WHEN ANGELS
FAIL TO FLY
A STEVE CASSIDY MYSTERY
Copyright 2011 by John Schlarbaum
Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com
ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-0547-6
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
ALSO BY
JOHN SCHLARBAUM
A MEMORABLE MURDER
A Jennifer Malone Mystery #1
BARRY JONES’ COLD DINNER
A Steve Cassidy Mystery #1
***
THE DOCTOR’S BAG
A Sentimental Journey
AGING GRACEFULLY TOGETHER
A Story of Love & Marriage
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
With each book release, I am amazed how much goodwill I continue to receive from family, friends and new readers of my work. I appreciate the encouragement and thank you all.
Since the publication of the first Steve Cassidy Mystery – Barry Jones’ Cold Dinner – I have had the pleasure of meeting hundreds of book lovers at various events. Without exception, it appears no matter what the economic forecast or new technologies available, the enjoyment of getting lost in a good story will remain a mainstay in our lives for many years to come.
This novel presented several new challenges from a creative standpoint, the most pressing, of course, was keeping the fans of P.I. Steve Cassidy intrigued and engaged a second time around. To help in this endeavour, I would like to give special thanks to:
All of those who took the time to read preview copies of the book and give me valuable feedback.
Laura Borland for helping to bring my original free-flowing storyline into focus.
Susan Forrest for her considerable insight and helping to edit my manuscript. Your many hours of hard work are greatly appreciated.
Jennifer Hawksworth for her graphic design expertise, as well as her limitless patience when it comes to my requests for changes, changes, and more changes.
Jenne De Vries. whose fabulous friendship and unconditional support has always been without compare. You are truly an original.
John Schlarbaum
November 2009
DEDICATION
For Jessica Jarvis
A true friend
and incredible Muse.
“Seriously . . . I’m just saying.”
ONE
“So who’s the lucky guy tonight, Steve?”
“Must you say that so loud, Nancy?” I protested as I placed my gym bag on a nearby bar stool.
“Afraid someone will get the wrong idea about you?” Nancy replied with a smile.
“The short answer? Yes.”
“You private dicks can sure be touchy sometimes.” Nancy, the attractive 40-something bartender with short dirty blonde hair and haunting brown eyes, slowly began checking out the dinner crowd. “Just between us, do I know him?” she asked in a low conspiratorial tone.
“That depends,” I said. “Are you acquainted with many fifty–six–year–old overweight plumbers from Plymouth, who like to lay a little extra pipe when they’re out of town attending a plumbing convention?”
“Did you say plumbing convention? They have those?”
“It’s big business. I was there this afternoon sizing up tonight’s target.”
“I bet those guys are a laugh a minute,” Nancy said, shaking her head in disbelief.
“Oh yeah, you’d be surprised how many tools there are at those things.”
Nancy and I locked eyes and both laughed.
“So who’s the lucky girl?” Nancy inquired a few moments later. “Does she know what you’ve planned for her? For a chunky plumber past his prime, I hope you’re giving her danger pay.”
“You’ll like Samantha,” I said. “She recently dumped her fiancé after finding out he’d been cheating on her. She wants to see every no-good boyfriend, husband and lover go down in flames.”
Nancy rolled her eyes. “I’ve been there and all I can say is Heaven help Peter Plumber.”
“Exactly.”
I checked my watch: 5:29 p.m. Sam and “Peter” were scheduled to arrive here for an intimate dinner in thirty minutes. For marital cases I often use Randy’s Saloon and Grill, an outdated restaurant located in the east end of the City of Darrien—my new home. This cozy get-together would hopefully be followed by a visit to Room 215 at the nearby Tecumseh Motel, all of which would be captured on video by yours truly. I glanced at the predetermined rear booth where my cute couple would be seated and noted the RESERVED sign. A few feet away, there was a similar sign atop a smaller table for two, where I would enjoy a steak dinner paid for by the client, Mrs. Plumber. On the vacant chair across from me, I would position my gym bag so the pinhole camera within it could record both video and audio of the soon-to-be lovers.
“Don’t these guys get suspicious when your girl takes off her blouse to reveal wires running from her bra, down her stomach and into her waistband?” Nancy asked, breaking my concentration. Before I could answer she added, “Who knows—maybe for a twisted, cheating husband that could be a turn-on.”
“Maybe,” I concurred, “but that would never happen.”
“Why?”
“Because within two minutes of Samantha entering the motel room, I’ll page her. She’ll then say there’s an emergency and ask the guy to leave.”
“Are his pants already down around his ankles?”
“On occasion.”
“How embarrassing.”
“Not as embarrassing as when he’s sitting across from his wife, giving a deposition at her divorce lawyer’s office,” I smirked.
Nancy gave me a dirty look. “How can you take pleasure in destroying a marriage like that?”
“I get no delight. I get paid for a job well done,” I countered. “I don’t instruct these fools to break their wedding vows—they just do it. I am paid by the hour, regardless if they go to the motel or not. If the wife’s right, I confirm her suspicions. If she’s wrong, I alleviate her anxiety about her soul mate when he’s out of town.”
Nancy bent forward across the bar, reached both hands out above my head and then turned her arms slightly. “There,” she said, “your halo was a bit crooked.”
“Thanks,” I laughed. “I keep forgetting to check it when I go out.”
After I downed a shot of whiskey with Nancy, I went to the rest room to make a final check of my new digital video camera. Once in