* * * *.
The weeks went by quickly. Life was running smoothly except for Paul Bartelli. He sent her flowers and jewelry, which she sent back promptly.
Each time he called, he had been drinking. He said he simply wanted to talk. Her hope was that he would get tired of her refusals and quit calling.
She usually ignored his calls. One time she did not check her caller I D and answered her phone to find him on the other end.
"Hello." She knew immediately that she made a mistake. It was Paul and he had been drinking,
"Itsy, why do you torture me like this. My life hasn't been the same since you walked out on me. I wish you would at least give me a chance to prove myself to you. We could be so good together."
"You sound like a broken record, Paul. This is not funny. I do not want to make this whole business public, but I will if you don't stop calling me. That means your wife will know as well as all your business associates." This was not an idle threat. She would do it, but he didn't know that.
"My wife doesn't care. Why do you think I cheat on her, she started it." Paul whined.
"But I don't think she wants the public to view her dirty laundry. I am warning you one last time, I have police connections now and an employer who will back me up. You have to stop calling me. This is the last time I'm going to say this. The next time I will get a restraining order out. Get a life Paul; find someone who wants to pimp themselves." She didn't give him time to respond. She hung up the phone before he had a chance to answer. After a week and still no more calls, she felt she might have got through to him.
Joe took a promotion at one of the firms' locations closer to his home but further from, Itsy and they drifted further apart. Gabby and M L's relationship was still hot and enjoying each other immensely.
Itsy loved her job and enjoyed the people she worked with. Everyone was on first name basis. Business was good and it appeared that Clyde was good at what he did. He spent five years with the Hillsborough Sherriff's Office, but had a chief that was homophobic and did not like Clyde. He still had many connections on the force that helped each other out whenever possible. That chief had left the force recently. The relationship with the current chief was one of total cooperation.
Itsy was thoroughly impressed with the software that was available for the agency to use in finding people and tracking down information. She wondered if she would be able to find Maxie Donavan with this information.
She liked working with Joyce, but she was a by-the-books type of person. Itsy didn't feel comfortable asking for her help directly, but the thought kept entering her mind; there had to be a way to ask for help from the agency. The timing had to be just right.
Itsy immersed herself in her job. Clyde did not spend a lot of time in the office and when he did, it was mostly after hours. Joyce kept a certain distance between herself and Rebecca, the receptionist. Itsy respected this and found that it didn't affect her ability to do her job. She continued to learn policies and procedures. She did occasionally work strange hours but found it refreshing and a challenge. If a file was not ready for computer impute, Joyce would ask her to come in later and stay until she finished. It appeared to Itsy that the longer she worked there the more the barrier between the two of them dissolved. When Joyce invited Itsy to join her for lunch at the restaurant down the street from the office, Itsy was agreed. They actually talked girl talk. The second time it happened Itsy got up the courage to discuss her mother's file. Joyce was astonished and sympathetic. It was Itsy's hope by bringing it up, that Joyce would talk to Clyde about the case and possibly give her permission to use the company resources to move the case along to the next step. She would try this approach first before asking permission directly. Now all she could do was wait and hope. There weren't any other avenues open at this point. The following week Joyce again invited her to join her for lunch.
During lunch, Itsy got her wish.
"I talked to Clyde about your mother's case, and he and I agreed that there would be no harm in you using our resources to track down her killer."
Itsy acted surprised and pleased. "Oh how wonderful. I'm so pleased. You can't imagine what an opportunity that would be."
"The only restrictions are that, of course, you do it on your own time and you need to log your hours for Clyde. Do you see that being a problem?" Joyce's professional persona appeared out of nowhere.
"That's more than I could have asked for. You have no idea how much this means to me. I will be more than willing to abide by those rules." She knew in her heart that if she had taken the direct approach with Joyce she would not have been so fortunate.
"That is why we feel that you deserve this opportunity. Clyde loves a good challenge and he feels that you can find this man with our help."
Itsy felt revitalized and this was the break she needed. Finally, it looked like her mother's death would be avenged. The next day she brought her file to work and showed Joyce.
"Do you mind if I take a look. I might be able to give you some pointers."
"No, I could use all the help I can get. I'm definitely boxed in at this point."
Clyde was on assignment, which meant that the office had some breathing room. He has an aura about him that commanded busyness when he was in the office. As likeable as he was, it was always nice to see him leave for a break. Even Rebecca wanted to know more about Itsy's mothers file. Itsy didn't have a problem with that. She liked Rebecca. She would be what she would want in a little sister if she had one, genuinely sweet and adorable.
Joyce and Rebecca both expressed a desire to help her do whatever was necessary to catch this man.
"Right now, I think I understand the system enough that I should be able to do this by myself and I need to do it by myself if I can. I'm going to stay late tonight and see how far I get. I really appreciate the offer and I will let you know how it goes, tomorrow."
That night after Joyce and Rebecca left, she grabbed a cup of coffee took off her shoes and got to work. She started a file on the desktop and documented her start time as requested. She impute the information into the computer and waited. While she waited, she called home to check in.
"Hi, Gabby." She got Gabby's voicemail. This meant she was still at the shop. She wouldn't answer directly; she checked her messages and would return her calls later. "Just checking in. I'm at work. I just started...oh my god, I don't believe this. Something is coming through on Maxie already. Call me!" She hung up the phone and stared at the computer monitor with her mouth open. There he was everything she needed, just like that. Maxie Donavan was using the name Charles Simpson. He lived at 159 NE 34the Avenue, New York City and worked as a janitor at PS239. He had a wife but no children. There was a recent picture and the scar over his left eyebrow and the skull tattoo on his neck were visible and identifiable. It was him without a doubt. She saved the file and made a back up. She printed the summary page, closed the computer and looked at the clock. Twenty minutes. Still no word from Gabby. She called again and left the message "I'm coming home. I got what I was looking for".
The next day she showed Joyce.
"I'm impressed. That didn't take you long at all. Good work, but then again, you had done all the legwork in advance. That is a powerful program you used."
"Thank you. I'm just not sure what to do now. I've been searching so long. I never thought about what I would do if I found him."
"Clyde will be coming in this afternoon. Let's set up a conference with him. I'll block off some time, late, say, 4:30pm and see what he's got to say."
Itsy was glad it was a busy day. She had a hard time concentrating with this new knowledge rolling around in her brain. She did her best to stay focused until 4:30. Clyde arrived at 1:30, went to his office, and closed his door. This was not unusual. He could get loud and he found that it disturbed the front office so with the door closed he was at liberty to get as loud or talk as personal as he chose. He agreed to the prearr
anged meeting at 4:30.
At 4:30 Joyce and Itsy sat down across from Clyde and presented him with the information
"I'm impressed, and Joyce, you know I'm not easily impressed. Itsy, I think we've overlooked some of your qualifications."
"Itsy has been a real asset to me. I am glad we hired her. Is there something you can do for her with this information? She wouldn't ask, but I will."
"Of course. Leave this with me. Tomorrow I will make some phone calls. That's one nice thing about doing favors for people; you always get them back. I'll keep you posted."
Itsy didn't sleep much that night. Gabby, M L and Dolly kept her company until after midnight and then bid her a goodnight.
Clyde was in the office early. He really was an early person by nature; however, his professional life didn't always give him that luxury.
"Itsy, I've turned the information over to the FBI. They will take it from here. I expect an arrest today. Seems that he is wanted on some other charges in other states. They promised to let me know as soon as he's in custody."
Ironically, the date that day was March 30, the 25th anniversary of her mother's death. It was at 2:30pm when the call came in from the NYC division of the FBI, telling Clyde that Maxie Donavan was in custody and being booked with three counts of murder one and 5 counts of aggravated assault, one on a minor.
Itsy broke down and wept tears of joy. Clyde, Joyce and Rebecca consoled her. When she was able to get herself composed, she called Gabby and left her a voice mail: "It's over. He's in custody. This ends a chapter in my life and now I can move on."
About the author:
Her thirty-five year residency of Florida is evident in her stories. Her stories are about ordinary people having extra ordinary occurrences in their lives. Hopefully, these stories will please the reader as much as they pleased her to write them.
She may is recently retired but she is still an active artist. She dabbles in painting, photography and macramé for relaxation. She has been writing poetry and short stories since her late twenties. Most of her poetry survived, but her short stories kept evolving. Through study and reading, she now is able to spend the time to improve her craft and share it with an audience.
How A Prank Turned Into a Crime
Last House on Flamingo Road
Now You've Done it
Pirates Demise
Shame on You!
The Cat's Dowry
The Last Straw
The Statistics of Winning
The Sum of Who I am
Two for the Price of One
Where Rubber Meets The Road
A Flash In the Pan
Connect with Yvonne online:
Facebook: www.facebook.com/yvonne.remington
Blog: https://yvonnemremington.blogspot.com
email:
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