Page 8 of Daddy Detectives: Episode 2
Unprotectedis what I really mean, but I don’t want to say that out loud. I don’t want to give Ian more reason to worry. I’ve seen no evidence that the blackmailer would resort to violence, but I can’t take that risk.
Ian manages a smile. “That’s a great idea.” He and Jerry Harshman, our handyman and office manager, have a special relationship that goes back several years. Ian befriended Jerry when he encountered the homeless man, a U.S. Army veteran, living on the streets of downtown Chicago. Ian would buy Jerry meals at a Mexican restaurant near Millennial Park.
Ian offered to get Jerry a spot in a local men’s shelter, but Jerry always refused to accept any housing assistance. When we opened the private investigation business, we hired Jerry to manage the renovation of the carriage house. He brought all of his formidable logistical skills from working in the U.S. Army to his new job, which included everything from keeping the facility running smoothly to ordering supplies.
Jerry lives on-site, in an apartment above the PI office. The guy knows how to handle himself, and I’m confident he can protect Ian from any threat.
After kissing Ian goodbye, I leave him to wrangle the kids while I head across the driveway to the office. When I walk inside, Kimi waves from the reception desk.
“Good morning, Mr. J.” She runs her fingers through her spikey hair, mussing the strands deliberately. “How’s Ian?”
“He’s okay. Anything new on the research front?”
She perks up, smiling. “Yes.” Kimi turns her computer monitor toward me, and I find myself looking at a dated mug shot. Even without being told, I know who this is. The resemblance between this woman and Ian is uncanny. They have the same curly light brown hair and the same green eyes.
“That’s her mug shot, obviously,” Kimi says. She switches to a new screen—Instagram—and scrolls through a few of Rhonda’s posts. “She lives in Roger’s Park and works as a server at Ambrose’s Diner. I’ll send you the address of the diner and a recent picture of her.”
“Thanks, Kimi. Is Jerry here?”
She points to the ceiling. “Upstairs.”
I head toward the stairs. “I’m going to ask him to keep an eye on Ian while I’m gone. You need to keep an eye out as well, for anything or anyone unusual. Don’t hesitate to call 911 if you feel unsafe for any reason.”
“Will do,” she says, giving me a salute.
Jerry’s apartment takes up half of the second floor of the carriage house. I knock on his door, and it opens almost immediately, as if he heard me coming up the stairs. He’s got a half-eaten red apple in his hand.
He finishes chewing, swallows, and tosses the apple core into a trashcan. “Hello, Tyler. Come in.”
I step into a tidy and well-organized space. The apartment is nothing fancy. There’s an open floor plan, with a living room and kitchen, and down the hallway is a bedroom and a bathroom. The apartment is part of his compensation package.
“What can I do for you?” Jerry asks as he washes his hands and dries them. He grabs a bottle of water off the kitchen table and takes a swig.
Jerry Harshman is a formidable man. I’d put him at about six-two. There’s not an ounce of fat on his body. He’s in his late sixties and wears his gray hair in a military buzz cut. His tanned skin is weathered and wrinkled. His sharp, steely blue eyes miss nothing.
“I need to ask a favor, Jerry.”
He nods. “Happy to be of help, sir.”
I’ve told him a dozen times he doesn’t need to call mesir, but he insists. I think it’s the military in him. I withdraw the blackmail note from my jacket pocket and hand it to him.
His brow furrows as he scans the writing, his jaw tightening. “Any idea who sent this?”
“Not exactly, although I do have my suspicions. That’s where you come in. I need to track down my primary suspect, but I don’t feel comfortable leaving Ian at home without protection. Would you—”
“Of course.” He opens a closet door and pulls out a Glock tucked into a chest holster. He straps the holster on, and then he checks the gun to make sure it’s loaded. “Do you want me inside or outside of the townhouse?”
“Inside, if you don’t mind. I want someone there with Ian, just as a precaution. And I suspect Ian would appreciate your company.”
Jerry pulls a light tan jacket out of the closet and slips it on, effectively hiding the fact he’s carrying a handgun. “Understood.”
“I’d appreciate it if you’d stay with him until I return. I don’t want him left alone.”
“Yes, sir.”
One of the things I appreciate most about Jerry is how efficient and reliable he is.
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