She patted Frankie's shoulder. “I know. Just think, before you know it she'll be sitting back at her desk and everything can get back to normal.”
Frankie breathed deeply. “I can't wait!”
Kate checked the time on her wristwatch. “I'd better get back over to the Sheriff's Office.” She turned at the door. “If you need any more help with Mrs. Benley, just let me know. But I think we've heard the last from her.”
“I will. Thanks, Kate, for convincing her to pay her bill.” She watched Kate open the heavy double-plated glass door. She sat for a few minutes looking out of one of the windows. Two small windows on either side of the door had Barker and Obrien Investigations stenciled into the glass.
She smiled as she recalled the day Johanna and she had signed the lease for their office, which was conveniently situated in a popular strip mall between a hair salon and a coffee shop. The owner had been extremely receptive about their plans and had no qualms about any remodeling as long as they paid for it themselves. They had to sign a special agreement stating that the windows would be replaced if they ever decided to vacate the premises. So far, they'd been perfectly contented and had no desire to ever leave.
Johanna and she had pooled all of their resources and had taken out a hefty mortgage to purchase their twenty-acre rural property, build their dream log home, and leave the Philadelphia Police Force to become private investigators in Charlestown, Pennsylvania. But it had been worth every dime. They were happy and life was good.
Frankie stretched and decided to grab another cup of coffee. After she brought the coffee back to her desk, she sat down and began to tackle the rest of the paperwork. Her eyes again drifted to Johanna's desk, which faced hers. It felt strange not to see Johanna's beautiful face peering back at her. Monday couldn't come quick enough. The office had taken on a quiet lonely ambiance for the past several weeks. Frankie shook off her depressing mood and went back to the paperwork. She'd focus on the good, not the bad. She had a lot to be thankful for.
The door suddenly swung open and her eyes moved to the woman entering. Frankie stood and immediately walked to the door as a middle-aged woman entered, swiftly closing the door behind her. Her well-worn jeans and sweater looked a size too big for her. She wore a pair of shabby sneakers on her feet.
“Hello, how can I help you?” Frankie asked leading the woman to a chair near her desk.
The woman eyed her carefully. “My husband's been cheating. I need to catch him. Money's no object,” she replied as she seated herself.
Frankie skeptically eyed the woman and doubted from the looks of her that she could even afford a cup of coffee. As she observed the washed out, long-haired blonde, Frankie took out a notepad, a copy of the contract, and their rate sheet. “I'll need to ask you some questions, but first I'd like you to go over our rates and our contract. If my business partner and I agree to take you on as a client, then we'll have you sign the contract.” She handed the woman the forms.
“No problem,” the blonde replied as she quickly glanced at the documents and then scribbled her name on the contract.
Frankie was surprised that the woman had signed without giving the agreement a thorough reading, but even more so because she hadn't yet agreed to take the woman on as a client. “I'll need to see some identification.”
The woman withdrew her driver's license from her purse and laid it on the desk. “I need proof of my husband's infidelities before I can file for divorce.”
Frankie picked up the driver's license, walked to the scanner and made a copy. She handed the woman's license back to her and then skimmed her copy of it before setting it on her desk. Kendall Longman. Where had she heard that name before? Longman rang a bell with her for some reason, but she couldn't bring it to the surface. No matter. She'd do a search on her name later, whether she took the case or not, just to ease her curiosity about where she'd heard the name.
Kendall Longman stood as she placed her license back into her purse. “I want you to start right now...this very minute.” She reached into her purse and withdrew a sheet of paper. “All of the pertinent information is here.” She thrust it at Frankie. “Let me know every morning what you have on him. I'll call you. I want lots of pictures, too.” She turned to leave.
“Mrs. Longman?”
The woman whipped around. “You are taking my case, aren't you?” Her eyes searched Frankie's.
Frankie was ready to remind her that she'd have to discuss it with Johanna, but hesitated as she scrutinized the woman. There was something hidden behind those eyes. A deep sadness as though she'd been crushed to her very soul. Her gut instinct told her to take the case. Johanna would understand. In fact, if she were here right now she'd have been the one to immediately agree to it. “Yes, I know my partner will be on board. Once we receive the retainer, we can begin. It would also be helpful if you have a recent picture of your husband.”
“I'll bring the retainer and a photograph to you on Monday morning,” she said. “Will that be okay?” she asked hopefully.
“That will be fine,” Frankie assured her.
“Thatcher needs to be stopped, and the sooner the better,” she said. “He froze my accounts. I can't currently access them.” She wrung her hands. “But I was told you are the best.”
Frankie studied her. She still doubted the woman had a dime to her name, but if what she said was true about frozen assets, it made even less sense. Maybe she was mentally ill. Frankie
