Another Excerpt from my WIP (26)

The following is another excerpt from my work in progress, The Throuple Private Eye—Business is Booming, a Jen McDowell Series. This is the second draft. I’m at 51k words now. If you want to catch up, order the novella The Throuple Private Eye—Hate Crimes, on Amazon ($2.99). The link is https://www.amazon.com/dp/B084LTTHGN. Enjoy.

CHAPTER 15

Jen returned from a doctor’s appointment to find tension in the air at the office. She looked at Molly who was focused on her computer and ignoring Jen. She looked at Prada who was on her bed with her back toward Molly, a thing she does when she’s upset. “What happened?” Jen asked.

Molly looked up from her computer. “What do you mean?”

“Obviously, something happened,” Jen answered. “Prada has her back toward you which she only does when she’s pissed, and you’re not talking. What did you do?”

“Why do you always take her side?” Molly shot back. “Nothing happened.”

“Come on, tell me. I can’t work like this when you two are upset.”

“If you must know, when I tried to give Prada her pills this morning, she snapped at me, so I swatted her.”

“Did you hurt her?” Jen asked.

“No,” Molly replied. “I didn’t hit her that hard.”

“No,” Jen continued. “I meant when you gave her the pills. I know you use that pill insert thingy. Maybe you hurt her.”

Molly thought for a moment. “Maybe I did.”

“Well, apologize already.”

Molly sighed. “Okay. I’ll make bacon as a peace offering.” Molly went to the kitchen and returned in a few minutes with two crisp pieces of bacon. She knelled down by Prada. Prada lifted her head–a good sign. Molly petted Prada’s head. “Prada, honey. I’m sorry. Would you like some bacon?” Prada ate the two pieces of bacon and licked Molly’s face.

“I guess she accepts your apology,” Jen said.

“I have a one pm,” Molly said. “A Ms. Funanya Opeyemi–unusual name.”

At 1 pm, Ms. Opeyemi arrived. She was an black senior citizen and walked with a cane. After introductions and coffee, the three got down to business. Molly turned on the recorder. You said on the phone that you wanted us to help find your granddaughter,” Molly said. “Is that right?”

“Yes, that’s correct.” Ms. Opeyemi replied.

“Your name’s a little unusual,” Jen said.

“It’s an African name,” Ms. Opeyemi said. “I changed my name years ago after my husband died. My full name is Funanya Opeyemi, but my friends call me Anna. Just don’t call me Fun.”

Everyone laughed. “So, what happened to your granddaughter?” Molly asked.

“She was kidnaped,” Anna replied.

“Did you call the police?” Jen asked.

“Believe me, honey, I called everyone. I’d call out the National Guard if I had the power. But you see, this happened six years ago back in Texas.”

“Okay,” Molly said. “We’ll let you explain everything. Go ahead.”

Anna started to explain, “My husband and I had one daughter. Her name was Enu Bone. She got knocked up by one of her boyfriends; never figured out which one of the assholes did it. All her men were all hat and no cattle. Anyway, my daughter had a friend by the name of Olive Smith. Just after my daughter gave birth to a baby girl, Olive murdered my daughter and took the baby.”

“This happened in Texas?” Jen interrupted.

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