They were also competitors with each other, and had been all their lives.
They stopped in the doorway, staring without apology at her lack of hair, blue metallic lipstick and the blue starburst gem on her forehead.
Wyrick stared back at them without blinking.
“Ladies, if you stare at me any longer, I am going to have to charge admission, so maybe you should introduce yourselves and tell me why you’re here?”
They both inhaled at the same time, then rushed her desk.
“I’m Portia Carlyle.”
“And I’m Paula Carlyle,” the other one said.
And then they both began to talk at once, speaking in almost perfect unison.
“Our mother recently passed. She had a four-carat yellow diamond that Daddy gave her for their fiftieth wedding anniversary, and it’s disappeared. We need to hire Charlie Dodge to find it.”
“We’re just devastated,” Portia added.
“Yes, devastated,” Paula echoed.
“Mr. Dodge isn’t that kind of investigator,” Wyrick said. “His cases involve missing people, not missing things.”
“We have money!” Portia cried. “We’ll pay whatever he charges.”
“We want to speak to him personally,” Paula added.
“Well, he’s not here at the moment, so—”
“We’ll wait!” they echoed, and then took themselves over to the sofa and sat, glaring at Wyrick and muttering beneath their breath about secretaries getting above themselves, and needing to wear a wig...and no self-respecting woman would put jewelry on her face instead of her fingers.
Wyrick ignored them.
But the longer they sat, the more they fussed, until somehow they were fighting with each other.
“You were the last one to handle it. I know because I saw you trying it on!” Portia cried.
Paula gasped. “I can’t believe you’re accusing me of stealing my mama’s special ring!”
“She was my mama, too,” Portia screeched, and shoved her.
Paula shoved her back, and then the wrestling match was on. Wyrick rolled her eyes and called Charlie, who was already on his way back to the office.
“Hello. What’s up?” he asked.
Wyrick put the phone on speaker. “Can you hear all this nonsense?” she asked.
Charlie’s pulse kicked. He could hear women screaming and thumping. It sounded like the place was on fire, and people were scrambling to get out.
“What the hell is going on?” he asked. “Are you okay?”
“You have two prospective clients who have gotten into a fight while waiting to talk to you, because they aren’t having anything to do with me. They’re sisters. And they are, at the present time, on the floor of my office fighting like trailer trash. How long before you’ll be back?”
“Oh good Lord,” he muttered. “I’m about ten minutes out.”
“So, either I’m calling the cops, or you deal with them. Your decision,” Wyrick said.
“Keep the phone on speaker and put it in their faces,” he said.
Wyrick took the bottle of water off her desk, walked over to where the sisters were rolling and screaming, and emptied it on them, shocking them into momentary silence.
“Ladies...and I use that term loosely... Mr. Dodge wishes to speak with you.”
They were flat on their backs now, staring up at the phone in Wyrick’s hand. And then Charlie’s voice came down upon them.
“Both of you! Get off the floor. Shut the hell up and wait quietly for me to arrive, or I’ll have Wyrick call the police and have you arrested for disturbing the peace.”
There was total silence as the sisters glared at Wyrick and then at each other.
“I don’t hear you!” Charlie shouted. “Do you two understand me?”
“Yes,” they said, and got themselves off the floor and back into their seats before glaring at Wyrick for tattling on them.
“I’ll be there shortly,” Charlie said, and disconnected.
Wyrick dropped the empty water bottle into the trash and sat back down at her desk.
“You have ruined our hair and makeup. Where is your ladies’ room?” Paula asked.
“You ruined yourselves,” Wyrick said, then pointed at the door. “Out the door. Down the hall on your right.”
“A public toilet?” Portia cried.
“You made public fools of yourselves,” Wyrick said.
They got up in silence and hurried out of the office, and were gone only long enough to dry themselves off. Their appearances upon returning were far less dramatic than their initial arrival, and so were their demeanors.
They sat down at opposite ends of the sofa, continuing to glare at Wyrick, who ignored them.
Then Charlie Dodge walked in, and when he did, the door slammed against the inner wall. Both women jumped and then shrank back. They hadn’t expected anyone that big or that intimidating.
He stared at the sorry state in which they now sat and then looked at Wyrick.
She shrugged.
He bit the inside