Janice brought his tea and almost spilled it on him as she reached over to put it on the glass table. Thanks, he said. How long have you guys been operating?
Janice put a finger to her lips and rolled her eyes to the ceiling as she tried to remember the exact date they opened. I think we started in April two years ago.
And is there much work for private detectives in Dallas?
Janice put her head to one side and started to play with her red hair. Stop looking at his bulge, she told herself. Most of it is working for men who think their wives are cheating on them. Easy stuff really. Follow her, take a few pictures and send an invoice.
And how do you actually become a PD? I mean it's not exactly a mainstream kind of job?
I'm just a secretary, but Keke studied criminology at Harvard. She's a bright lady.
Does she have a male friend? He mentally crossed his fingers and waited for her reply.
'No, she's single. Janice felt disappointed. It was she who'd first helped him and sent him to look for Keke. Why was he asking about Keke? What was wrong with her? She tried to look nice everyday, she really did, and it wasn't her fault she'd inherited her grandmother’s pear shaped figure.
When the old man left the office, Keke appeared and showed Dan into her office. It was tiny. There was a laptop on an old dining table and two chairs. In the corner was an aluminum case that he assumed was her photography equipment. There was a picture of a black woman that he'd seen before, but couldn't quite place.
Madame Tinubu. She was a slave trader who realized the error of her ways and became a scathing opponent of slavery, Keke said when she saw him looking at the picture.
Yes, I remember now. She was Nigerian, and they called her the queen of the ladies. So why exactly do you have her on your wall?
Because she's a symbol that you can start life on the wrong foot, but still change your ways and do good. Sorry for the wait. Now where did we get to? She sad down and crossed her legs. Dan waited for her as he stared at her them. Yes, you want me to check out your fiancee. But you don't know why.
Now I've had time, I can explain more fully. It was all a bit of a rush to get here, and then I had to go to the diner so I guess I got thrown off course. What he really wanted to say was, when he'd gone into the diner and seen Keke her stunning looks had totally thrown him. I am engaged and have been for three months. The wedding is planned in ten weeks. Still no further Keke thought as she waited impatiently. She is the daughter of my father's chief accountant. You may not find this a plausible reason for you to start an investigation, but I want her checked out because I will have to live with her for the rest of my life and at the moment she is behaving very strangely indeed.
Okay, I understand. Mr. Sanderson had decided not to invest in Keke's business, and she was now quite desperate for work. Lucky break him coming along she thought, now make the most of it and stop looking at his bulge. Then I'll check her out for you.
Why the sudden change of heart?
Keke refrained from saying: because your father is loaded and a potential business partner has turned me down. I was a little hasty before, and you obviously need my help, so I will do so.
Great. Then tell me what you need to know, Dan said relieved.
Here fill this out. Keke handed him a client information sheet that covered just about everything she needed to know. Can we discuss fees? He nodded. Two thousand a day plus expenses, Keke said emboldened in the knowledge that his father was one of the richest men in American and that Dan was in all likelihood his heir. He nodded again. Keke smiled and shouted for Janice to come. She appeared and listened. When Mr. Stephenson has filled out this form, please draw up a contract for him to sign. The fee is two thousand a day plus expenses. Janice looked and was about to say 'how much?' She managed to stop herself when she saw Keke look at her in a 'don't say anything,' kind of way.
Dan put his foot to the floor and felt himself being pressed back in the driver's seat. He loved his Ferrari. Not because it was an eye catcher, and woman after woman wanted to talk to him, but because it was his only chance to let off steam. His way of dealing with stress was flooring it and driving at a speed that made his heart race and his hands cling to the steering wheel in fear.
As he hurtled down the freeway towards his office, he thought about Keke. What the hell was he doing, getting married to Britney when he could have someone like Keke? She was a real woman. She had her own business and was fighting for herself in the big wide world. All Britney had ever done was sponge off him and moan that she was bored. Now she even refused to sleep with him. It had been three weeks since he'd had sex and he was bursting. Was that why he'd found Keke so darn attractive, he wondered. Or, was it simply that she was smoking hot? He realized it was the latter.