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Sexy Lexi Detective Agency and the Harry Wildstream Chronicles - Blog #1

       Lexi woke to the painful pickaxe of her alarm as it bleated it’s morning refrain. She moaned, pulled in to look at the time, and muttered a curse as she hit the snooze button and danced between sleep and waking.

            It had been a very long night--the taste of old whiskey and...was that gin? Yes, Gin. Those tastes would have been more than enough to let her know that she’d had a very rough night. The splitting headache, the smell of sex, and the complete lack of energy were just those happy little add ons that made it abundantly clear.

            She debated with herself if she should try to remember anything about last night--would it be worth it? Would it make her hate herself? Probably, she thought.

So instead she tried to remember the dream she’d been having instead. It had been something about a dog...maybe a husky or a wolf...and...was it...apples?

The alarm sounded again, this time less of a pickaxe and more of a jackhammer.

            “Ugh, alright.” she moaned. “Fine...Jesus.” She bad-word-removed ed the alarm clock from the wall and flung it across the room where it struck the same scratched patch of wall that it always did. She tossed the covers off of her and slowly, gently slunk across the floor and to the bathroom for her morning ritual.

            A plate of bacon and eggs--cooked, of course in the bacon grease--and a strong cup of coffee later and she was ready to face the day with as much strength as she would be able to muster--not much, but enough to get the show on the road...definitely not enough to hit the gym though.

            Maybe you got enough of a workout last night, she thought, feeling the burn of raw skin between her legs and the sting of muscles even her gymnastic exercises couldn’t reach. Cause it ain’t happening today.

            When she arrived at her shabby office in the middle of downtown, Jan handed her another cup of black, bitter coffee.

            “How did you know?” Lexi asked, looking over her sunglasses at her young secretary.

            “You drunk texted me.” Jan said, not looking up from her computer.

            “Oh...crap,” Lexi said, Jan, I’m--”

            “Don’t worry about it,” Jan said. “I deleted any embarrassing photos, kept the ones with your date in them--on the off chance you wanted to see him-- and then turned my phone on silent after three.” Then she looked up at her with a smile. “Do you want to see him?”

            “God, no,” Lexi groaned, taking her coffee into her private office. “I’d prefer a war flashback.”

            “Fair enough,” Jan said. “The Davidson check is on the desk, plus three bills i’ve never seen before. Should I pack my things now or--”

            “Ha, ha, very funny.” Lexi said, slamming her door shut behind her.

            Lexi had lived a very interesting life; she had been a gymnast, a soldier, and a stripper all before turning the big ‘three-oh’--something that coming up too fast.  Yet she still couldn't get anything in the mail more interesting than a coupon for the local deli and a mishandled letter that belonged to the insurance company next door. 

            And the occasional new bill.

            She slid those bills into the overflowing pile on the corner of her desk and opened the Davidson check.

            “Hello, gorgeous,” she whispered as she gave the check a little kiss. This two thousand dollar check would pay most of the bills, pay her secretary and keep her floating in ramen and cheap liquor for another month. And she had barely had to work for it.

            On one of the rare occasions when she had been dating sober, Lexi had been very suspicious about her fella at the time. Jimmy was sweet, charming, and eager to ply her with gifts--as most men are towards strippers. But when he gave her a diamond ring with a hebrew engraving the band, she’d known something was up.

            That was when she learned about background checks, starting with a facebook account here, old and forgotten myspace page and a twitter there. But then moving on to the real deal checks; address history, instant criminal history, statewide criminal history and more.

 It turned out that Jimmy’s record was pretty clean...at least from a legal standpoint.

But when she looked at his social media posts about volunteering with the elder community and then cross referenced the name of one his most recent ward --Anna Steinman-- and the age of the ring she’d been given, she put two and two together pretty quickly. Jimmy had been banned from volunteering, Anna got her Holocaust ring back, and Lexi decided to become a PI. 

She was damn good too. But, learning how to master background checks and the finer rules of snooping didn’t allow for a life of leisure. Maybe finding happiness in a check for two thousand dollars wasn’t such a bad thing.

“Do I still have a job?” Jan called from her desk, her messy red hair hanging over her glasses.

“For now,” Lexi called back, “for now…”

Her eyes scanned the pile of mail for something that didn’t look like a bill and found a solitary envelope. She pulled it from the pile, sending the rest spilling to the floor. But Lexi didn’t notice that. She was too busy looking at the envelope.

It was blank. And sealed.

“Jan,” she asked, “ what’s up with this one?”

Jan leaned over her desk again, squinted, and then shook her head.

“Did anyone drop by?” Lexi asked.

Jan shook her head and leaned back to study her screen.

Lexi gave the envelope another quick glance and then opened it, half convinced she would get a face full of white powder. But after reading the letter inside, part of thought an anthrax attack would be preferable.

She had seen a lot of things in her life... but the letter in the blank envelope was one of the most chilling...most disturbing of them all.

The handwriting was neat, almost practiced. The message was short, and to the Point. It also made her sick to her stomach. 
You are the only one I can trust. Meet me at the Deli at 5:30 am on Tuesday the 3rd--you know the one. I am being watched. Chances are, once we meet, you will be too.

To be continued.

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