Gold Digger: The Case Files of Harvey Valentine Private Dick

Dedication

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Family here and passed.

My daughter. She is the reason I live each day. She’s brought untold joy to my life and without her, I would not have much of one.

Mom.  I hope this makes you proud of me.

Dad. I wished I could have accomplished this when you were alive. But I know you have been reading it over my shoulder as I wrote it. I miss you.

My Wife. The source of my inspiration, my muse.

The Special Friends. You know who you are.

The Fans, without you,

I would have no reason to do what I do.

Thank you.

R. Archer

Cast of Main Characters

Harvey Valentine:  A top notch P.I. With a conscience that gets in the way, but always gets the job done.

Valerie White:  The Client, a cougar with ambition and a plan. Wife of Terry White

Terry White:  Scumbag lawyer with a drug problem.

Kelly Weston:  A dirtbag that got what he deserved.

Cato:  He is not the Green Hornet’s ass kicker or O.J. Simpson’s driver. He is the tenant and easy-going part-time sidekick of Harvey Valentine.

Detective Harris:  A good cop that only wants to retire in one piece.

Captain Planks:  Harvey describes him best, A prick!

Agent Nelson: FBI special agent with only one thing on her mind, work.

Chapter I:

Show Time

––––––––

In my job, the hours are odd, and so are the circumstances and the people I meet. You can even call some of them dangerous, and some of them fucked up. And sometimes- they are just fucked up and dangerous. My business card reads,

Harvey Valentine

Private Dick

Muskegon, Michigan. A mid-size, city on the banks of Lake Michigan. Home to a history of lumber barons, now just a place I call home. A home where the denizens of the streets mingle with the influential. Where the power brokers of society hide and linger in the shadows, feeding off the corruption like a crack whore waiting for a fix.

A place of stagnation of economy and society, where it seems the only thing progressing is the crime and corruption.

Just above the surface of the filth that slithers through the streets and courts, there is the façade of a happy place, with summer celebrations, concerts, parties and beer tents. Where ignorant folks wander about intoxicated on the ignorance of what lies just below the surface of the scum.

At my office, only three blocks from the

Courthouse. I did as I always do each morning and sometimes into the lunch hour, sit at my desk, waiting.

Waiting for the phone to ring or an email to pop up on my computer screen. I’d grown to enjoy hearing the sexy robot voice announce:  You got Mail. I enjoyed it when it was an email relating to a new case. But like most days lately, I often sat there passing the time staring out the window or surfing the web for news. Or if boredom got to me, I would sit outside and read on the good days, enjoying the Michigan summer weather.

Sitting in my chair, I could feel something vibrate in my pocket. Damn it, I swore to myself, forgetting to remove my phone and turn on the ringer. I hastily tried to remove the damn thing from my pocket. I hate cell phones. For some reason, I could never get to mine before it went to voice mail when it was in a pocket, and I forgot how many vibrations the thing gave off, before going to voice mail. I couldn’t recall placing the phone in silent mode.

My fingers found the instrument of modern communication and hastily yanked it free from my pocket. I clicked the answer button on the phone.

Valentine Investigations, how can I help you?

I pulled the phone back from my ear, clicking the speaker phone option. At least, there was one thing I liked about a cell

phone. The option to not have the microwave device next to my ear if I choose not to.

I was one of those believers that cell phones emitted radiation, which could cause cancer. The phone said, "Connected." Thank God, I whispered. I managed to catch the call before it went to voice mail.

Yes, said a female voice over the speaker. Then a brief pause. Yes, hello?  Is this Harvey Valentine, the private detective?

Yes Mam, it is, I answered. And you are?

My name is Mrs. White. Another pause, some sniffling. I need your help, Mr. Valentine.

Please Mrs. White, just call me Valentine or Harvey if you prefer. I could hear what sounded like a muffled crying. And Mam, I prefer private dick. I gave a slight laugh trying to be funny, hoping it would get her to laugh as well and end her sniffling.

The sniffling stopped a moment. That’s cute Mr. Valentine, but can you tell me what your fee is?

Sure Mam, but for security purposes, and client confidentiality it would be best if you meet me at my office. There we can discuss your case in private and my rate.

I see. The words came through the speakerphone. The sound of ruffling papers followed. "I have a busy schedule.

And this is a very important matter, Mr. Valentine. I must see you as soon as possible."

One moment Mam, let me check my schedule and see what my secretary has on the roster today.

I pulled up my calendar app on my laptop and stared at the empty schedule for the day and the rest of the month. Just a moment Mrs. White. I tapped a few of the keys, to sound as if I was doing some busy work. I do have an appointment this morning with a client, but I could reschedule that client to meet with you.

The sniffling stopped. Oh, that would be wonderful Mr. Valentine.

I typically schedule client interviews for an hour’s time. If it would be no problem to take an appointment with you today. Could you please let me know when I can expect you so that I can reschedule my other client?

Can I meet you at your office in an hour?

I paused a moment, tapped a few keys. Ah yes, that would be fine Mrs. White. I will meet you here at my office at eleven am.

Great, she said, with a sigh of relief.

Do you have the address of my office?

"Yes, I do. A friend of mine referred me to you; he gave me your business card. Private Dick that is cute. In fact Mr. Valentine, it was what made me remember

your card in my purse, because right now,

I could use a good dick."

I had to bite my tongue from laughing at her comment. Need not worry Mrs. White, you got the best dick here in town, at your disposal.

We shall see about that Mr. Valentine.

Without a goodbye, the speaker call ended.

I clicked the phone off, closed the browser on the laptop and looked around my office. It was in pretty good shape, clean. I kept a sheet over the chairs the clients used. These would have to be removed. The purpose of the sheets was to keep Snickers off them.

Snickers was a fat, orange tabby that resembled Puss and Boots. He wasn’t in the office area, which had been for the past hundred years before I acquired the property, a dining room. I decided to look for him and put him in my bedroom; some people were allergic to cats.

Entering the lobby or the former living room, Snickers wasn’t to be found on the furniture either, which was covered, except for my secretary’s desk. The desk looked like someone was using it.

There was a pad of paper with some notes on it. A pen, and a half cup of cold coffee. The coffee I replaced every other day. It gave the appearance I had a secretary. At the moment, I was without one and had been without one since the divorce.

The former wife acted as my secretary on occasions for purposes of show and tell, and sometimes she helped, but after the divorce, I was back to putting on the one man show.

The lobby was never used, again for show. Occasionally in the past, a few clients felt more comfortable sitting in the lobby, staring at the fish tank while they related the details of their case. Which reminded me, I’d not fed the fish in over a day.

The large tiger Oscar, solo to his environment watched as I crossed the room to feed him. He swam up to the tank wall. He was a smart bastard. Each time I opened the lid, he would swim up to the top of the water in anticipation of the meal to come. As I fed the Oscar, I wondered, what kind of case this client would have for me?

Probably another cheating husband. A divorce case in the making.

Hell, I couldn’t complain at the moment. After not having any work in over a month. I was desperate for something. I was even starting to consider doing some process serving or bounty hunting if some detective work did not come in soon.

The cat wasn’t in the lobby either. I opened the door labeled, Private. My bedroom and found, Snickers. He was sleeping next to Beast.

Beast was a huge Mastiff-lab mix. A hundred pounds of puppy, unless you happen to be a burglar. But at the moment

he was Snickers sleeping companion. I closed the door, leaving the animals to their dreams.

I went to the break room, or former kitchen of the home turned office. I rarely used it as a kitchen, beyond nuking a can of soup. It was void of the luxuries of a kitchen. There was no table, stove (unless you counted the wood stove) or full-size refrigerator. Only a small fridge with some soda and bottled water. I tried to keep it true to the tax purposes of a break room. I prepared the coffee pot to brew. I don’t drink the stuff but like to offer it to clients. They sometimes do.

As I waited for the coffee to brew and Mrs. White to arrive, I removed the sheets from the furniture and took them to the back room, the laundry room, off the kitchen. I began to reflect how things had changed after the divorce. I was alone, void of female companionship. My daughter was now eighteen and lived in the house next door, and attending the local junior college. Originally, I’d purchased that house, then this one. Turning this one into an office and keeping my bedroom here.

My daughter had the main house all to herself. She didn’t mind. Being self-absorbed in her activities, homework and hobbies. This quarter she only took online classes, so she was spending the week with her mother on vacation.

I went back to watching the news on the

laptop. Waiting for, I hoped, a new client. Fifteen minutes later there came a knock on the front door. Engrossed in the news feed; I clicked over to the surveillance camera in the background. I liked to see my clients before they see me.

My security camera looked down upon an attractive female figure who carried herself with the poise of a woman of elegance and stature. She wore a wide brim dark hat and dark sunglasses. I couldn’t see her age, but judging by her confidence of posture and dress I determined she was middle aged. She looked to be the wife of some attorney or doctor.

Her appearance would suggest one of two things. She was attending a funeral or she was in some disguise. Thinking the hat and glasses would mask her appearance. I, having never met or seen the woman before and had no idea what to expect. I guessed it was probably some cheating husband case in the works here.

I left my desk and walked to the front door passing once more through the lobby; I gave it a quick look over. Everything appeared fine. It was show time.

Opening the porch door, before me was a beautiful mature woman. She resembled the cougar on the prowl. Her dress was a deep dark blue, low cut in the front, and short above the knee. I gave the front of her dress a quick gaze, and I had to remind myself, she was a client, and a married one

at that.

Hello, you must be Mrs. White. I gave her a smile and tried to see through the dark glasses she wore, hoping that my wish of some thirty odd years ago for x-ray vision would kick in, but it didn’t.

Mr. Valentine, she stepped through the doorway and stood on the porch.

That would be me, madam, I answered politely and shut the porch door behind her. If you will follow me, I instructed and walked into the lobby.

Once Mrs. White was in the lobby, I closed the door behind me. You picked a good time for our meeting. My secretary is out to lunch at this time. She likes to take an early lunch to beat the rush, I lied.

Mrs. White stood in the center of the room and looked it over. She walked over to the aquarium. The Oscar fish swam back and forth in the tank, then darted in his castle not recognizing her.

I wondered what she was thinking. If she were turning her nose up at the Victorian décor, I’d chosen for my lobby and office.

If you will follow me into my office. I led her into the former dining, now made the office of Muskegon’s finest private investigator. Please have a seat, I motion to one of the blue-winged back antique chairs before my desk.

Once she sat, I went to the corner of my desk, closest to the kitchen. "Would you

care for a drink before we begin?  Coffee, water, cola, tea?"

She removed her wide brim hat and placed in her lap. Then her glasses. These she placed on the corner of the desk. Her eyes met mine, and I knew if I happened to meet this woman at one of the local dive bars some night after a few drinks, I would be all over her.

Do you have anything stronger? She asked, staring lustfully at me.

I gave a look at the grandfather clock. It was just past 11 am. Sure, I could get you something. Little early for my taste, but what the hell. I walked over to the liquor cabinet in the corner of the room. Name your poison. I opened the door of the cabinet, before she could reply, I gave her the choices available. I do have a few wines in the kitchen, but here I have Rum, Vodka, and Schnapps. I lifted the bottle out of the cabinet, I was wrong, the label read,