Bundle of Trouble - By Diana Orgain Page 0,43

watched him in my rearview mirror as he ran in the opposite direction my car was headed. He turned into an alley.

The only way in there was by foot. Laurie was sleeping in the back. There was no way I’d leave her in the car or take her into the alley.

Nice, Kate, you make a great PI. You lose your suspect as soon as you find him.

•CHAPTER FOURTEEN•

The Fourth Week—Recognition

Safe at home, I typed up a contract based on a template I found online and laid it out for Jim to review. Then I did a bit of research on PI licensing. Turned out I was highly unqualified for the job.

I needed to have three years or 6,000 hours of compensated experience in investigative work, or a law or police science degree plus 4,000 hours of experience.

Of course I had zero hours of experience and a bachelor’s in theater arts.

The requirements went on to state that the experience needed to be certified by the employer, who could be a sworn law enforcement officer, a military police officer, or a licensed PI.

Great! So launching a business as a PI was going to be more complicated than I’d thought. It wasn’t just landing the client, you had to be licensed! Although, I rationalized, Mrs. Avery hadn’t actually asked me for a license. Could I do this without one?

Why can’t things ever be easy?

Laurie began to fuss. Was it her mealtime already?

The month had flown by in three-hour increments. From one feeding to the next.

I brought Laurie over to our favorite section on the couch and began to nurse her. By now, I had the area all set up: telephone, remote control, an extra pillow, and a big glass of water, all accessible on the side table.

I drank my water and reflected on Galigani. How did he normally get his cases? How regular was the work? Could I land enough clients to justify quitting my job? I visualized calling my office and saying I’d launched a successful private investigation firm during my leave.

The idea seemed so far-fetched, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

After burping Laurie, I placed her facedown on her play mat, affectionately termed the “baby gym.” She let out an enormous wail. I picked her up, soothed her, and tried again. She cried even harder than the first time. I picked her up.

Tummy time was for the birds. No wonder the manufacturers called it a gym. For a baby, holding your head up is a workout.

Now I knew why we hadn’t done much of it in the last month. I immediately felt guilty.

Just because it’s hard doesn’t mean it’s not worth the effort.

I placed her on her tummy again, leaning over her to sing and try to soothe her. She was crying so loudly, I didn’t hear Jim come in. I jumped when I saw wingtips under my nose.

“Hi, honey, why are you torturing the baby?”

“It’s good for her.”

He smiled as he knelt down next to us. “Crying is good for her?”

“Tummy time.”

He rescued Laurie. She curled into his shoulder like a little bug, legs protectively drawn up.

“I saw George today,” I said.

Jim’s eyebrows rose. “Where?”

“At the pier where they found his bags.” I crossed my legs under me and leaned back on my hands.

Jim sat back on his heels and squinted at me. “So he’s alive, not decomposing at the bottom of the bay?”

I reached out and gently pushed on his knee. “Why do you talk like that? We knew it wasn’t him.”

“I have a hard time keeping up with the drama that’s George.” Jim sighed. “What did he have to say for himself?”

“I didn’t get a chance to talk to him. When I called his name, he dropped his bag and ran.”

Jim scowled. “Why would he do that?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea. What do you think he’s doing down there? And why leave his bag?”

“Well, he’s always been scattered. Did he just run off and leave it or what?”

“No! I called his name and he dropped the bag like it was on fire.”

Jim and I studied each other in silence. Finally he said, “I don’t know, Kate, if I stopped and tried to answer every George question I had . . . what can I say, the guy’s a piece of work.” He absently stroked Laurie’s back. “What you were doing at the pier?”

“Looking for him.” I wiggled my eyebrows up and down. “I’m replacing Galigani as the private investigator for Mrs. Avery.”

Jim stopped rubbing Laurie’s