“Stalking much lately?” he teased.
“It’s not stalking when I’m genuinely concerned about her. She’d mentioned that her daughter was sick. She’s a good, reliable woman. I can’t picture her leaving her job for no reason.”
“With all the money that you have, are you sure you didn’t offend her in some way? Usually, the ladies are lined up to score a date with you.”
“Look, are you going to give me your guy’s number or not?”
“Yeah, yeah. Let me get it real quick. You’re a pain in the ass. You know that?”
“I’ve been told that a time or two,” I bragged.
“Okay, are you ready?” Charlie asked.
“Go ahead,” I said, grabbing a pen.
I scribbled down the guy’s name and number. “Thanks,” I said.
“You’re the only wealthy, eligible bachelor who would chase down a single-parent waitress for a second date. What’s so special about her anyway?” Charles quizzed.
“You’d have to meet her. She’s really down-to-Earth, she’s friendly, funny, smart and beautiful. She’s like a diamond in the rough—and how do they say it? It’s better to have a diamond with a flaw than no diamond at all. That gorgeous diamond makes me light up every time she crosses my mind.”
“Oh boy, save it for the vows. You’re making me gag,” my friend snickered at me.
“Yeah? Well, look at you. You’ll date anything that can walk and has a warm hole. The way your love life’s been going, I’m thinking the warm hole is optional these days,” I taunted, busting his chops as I laughed.
“Ha. Ha. You’re so smart, aren’t you? Go call my guy. I’m sure he’ll be able to help you.”
After hanging up with Charlie, I called his guy. Joseph List was his name.
“Hi, Joe?” I said as he answered the phone.
“Who’s this?” he barked.
“My name’s Dale Halloway. My friend Charles Jenkins gave me your number. I’m needing help finding an old friend of mine. Can you help me?”
“Depends,” he took a drag off his cigarette. “What kind of information are you looking for and how much are you willing to pay?”
“I need her address, and money’s not an issue. Can you do it?”
“Now if I give you that information, I’m not going to see a hacked up body on the news tomorrow, am I?”
“What? God, no! I’m not some fucking criminal. I’d like to pay her a friendly visit. We haven’t seen each other for a while,” I lied.
“What’s the gal’s name?” the gruff man on the other end of the line asked.
“Her name is Kimberly Harris, and she lives in Imperial.”
“What other information do you have on this girl?”
“I have her cell phone number,” I offered.
“Well if you have her number, why don’t you call her and ask for her address yourself?” he challenged.
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of her, but she hasn’t answered the calls. Her daughter’s been sick so I’m worried about them.”
“Mmhmm, I see,” the old private investigator said. “Give me about twenty minutes or so and I’ll call you back.”
While I waited for the old man to call me back, I tried looking her up online. All I could find was her Facebook page and a few profiles for various other websites. Nothing of use, as of right now anyway. As promised, the P.I. called me back with her address.
I hopped in the car, heading to the address the investigator gave me. She didn’t live too far from me. I knew she was just another woman—but she was the woman I wanted to be with. “Here it goes, now or never,” I said to myself as I got on the freeway. I tried calling her one last time as I got off at her exit. To my surprise, she answered.
“Hey Kimberly, I was calling to see how you were doing.” I mused, trying to keep it light.
“I’ve been sitting here with Nevaeh for the last few days. She’s been really sick.” She explained.
“Oh, that's a shame. Does she have a cold or something?”
“No, it’s nothing like that. It’s much more complicated than a simple cold.” Kimberly explained all of Nevaeh’s symptoms and how her behavior had changed from energetic to lethargic.
“That sounds pretty serious,” I stressed. “Have you taken her to the doctor?”
Even though I’d not had the opportunity to meet her, I already felt I knew her by how much Kimberly had talked about her during our lunch date. She was quite the topic of conversation. Oddly, I pictured Nevaeh to look exactly like her mom. In my mind, I could envision a small light-skinned girl with cute little braids. I wouldn’t find out until later, but in reality, I was almost dead on in my description.