The Return of the Nice Guy\u201c!<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n…<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Reading Sample<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\nI was in what was then the only non-smoking pool hall in Dallas-if not in the world-and about to sink the seven ball when someone tapped me on the shoulder. Tapping someone on the shoulder in a pool hall-when they\u2019re setting up for a shot, no less-is not usually a wise move. Even in the higher class establishments, there\u2019s still just a bit of the pool hall mentality lingering in the air. This particular tap hadn\u2019t been one of those light, \u201cexcuse me\u201d taps, but a hard, insistent tap.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Thinking it might only be a case of someone accidentally bumping into me, though, I turned around affably and asked, \u201cExcuse me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Staring me in the face was a vaguely familiar, unshaven mug of a man. He looked mad enough to chew barbed wire and spit nails. His teeth made me think he might have even tried it once upon a time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He stood about an inch below my six foot, but he would have made two of me in girth. He wore the outfit of a mechanic and something about those coveralls from \u201cJimbo\u2019s Transmissions\u201d reinforced the idea that I knew the guy from somewhere. On the other hand, I was relatively sure I had never met him before. I\u2019m pretty sure I would have remembered the smell.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYour name Garrett?\u201d he asked in a gruff, demanding voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah,\u201d I replied cautiously. I had never had any work done at Jimbo\u2019s Transmissions, so I couldn\u2019t imagine what this guy would want me for.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou the private detective?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah,\u201d again, cautiously.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I noticed the pool cue he was holding in his left hand just as he swung it at me. I ducked just in time and the cue splintered as it smashed into a post just to my right. I took the momentary disorientation he was experiencing as a result of missing me to put the post between us. He recovered quickly and tried to take another swing at me, but it was again blocked by the post. I knew that tactic could only last so long, though, so I looked for my next point of defense.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou mind telling me what this is all about?\u201d I asked hurriedly, retreating to the far side of the pool table. I held my own cue up as if it were a sword and tried to parry his blows. Fortunately, he wasn\u2019t any better at fencing than me and the blows didn\u2019t land on anything except the table. I was hoping someone from management was watching because I didn\u2019t want to have to pay for the gashes in the felt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou know what it\u2019s about!\u201d he shouted, a rage pouring out of him like I hadn\u2019t seen since I rode my bicycle through Mrs. McClarty\u2019s petunia garden in third grade.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI promise you I don\u2019t! But if you\u2019ll tell me what it is that has you so worked up, I swear I\u2019ll do whatever I can to rectify the situation.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019ll rectify you! You lousy, worm-eaten shutter-bug!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShutterbug?\u201d I mumbled, more to myself than to him. As an errant swing of his pool cue smashed the three-bulb light over the pool table, a light went on in my own head and I suddenly said, \u201cYou\u2019re Mister Watkins, aren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGot that right, punk. And you better stay away from me and my wife, you hear?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cStay away? Your lawyer hired me!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d he asked, still swinging but obviously befuddled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIsn\u2019t your lawyer Randolph Shertz? Of Shertz and Osborne?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah \u2026 \u201d The swings of the pool cue definitely had less power behind them. The last one had only broken one bulb.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cRandolph Shertz hired me to trail your wife and find out who she was seeing. I followed her and took some pictures. This afternoon I\u2019m supposed to deliver them to Shertz and be paid.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Watkins reached into the pocket of his once-blue coveralls and pulled out a dirty brown envelope. He tossed it across the table to me, then asked, \u201cThese the pictures you took?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Before I even had the envelope open, I replied, \u201cNobody\u2019s seen the pictures I took, \u2018cept me. I just developed them this morning. Well, me and the folks at the one-hour photo place. And my next door neighbor. He saw \u2018em because a couple of the pictures were of his cat.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I pulled some photos out of the envelope and took a look at them. They were pictures of Mister Watkins kissing-making out, really-with a young blonde woman who definitely wasn\u2019t Mrs. Watkins. I had never met the wife of this wonderful couple, but I had followed her enough for four nights to know what she looked like. The woman in these pictures definitely wasn\u2019t the woman I had been following. This woman had a figure while Mrs. Watkins was, basically, round. I looked up from the photos to Mister Watkins and asked, \u201cWho is this?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cA friend,\u201d he replied, as if suddenly realizing that his whole appearance in the pool hall that afternoon was, at best, ill-conceived.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMust be a good friend,\u201d I commented.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou didn\u2019t take those?\u201d he asked, a little bit of hope that I did take them showing through in his voice. He was suddenly realizing that, if I didn\u2019t take them, then someone else entirely knew about his tryst and he had just told me about it for no reason.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo, not my work. How did you get the idea that I had?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Watkins was shifting his feet and absently fumbling with the broken end of his pool cue when he finally replied, \u201cI was looking for the checkbook when I stumbled across some of my wife\u2019s files and found that she had been seeing my lawyer. I wondered why. Then, I ran across your name on one of the sheets and it said you were a private eye. When I got them pictures, I figured Shertz must have hired you on her behalf to trail me and find out if I was cheating on my wife.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWell, I didn\u2019t take these pictures.\u201d I went over to my jacket, which was hanging on a near-by hat tree, and pulled an envelope out of the righthand pocket. I tossed it to Watkins and said, \u201cThese are the pictures I took. See? I have a much better sense of composition and style.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He pulled out the photos and a strange smile appeared on his face as he flipped through them. I knew what was in those pictures and was wondering what a husband would find amusing about them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019ll be dogged,\u201d he remarked. \u201cSo she was cheating on me while I was cheating on her. Who\u2019d\u2019a thought?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was puzzled and asked, \u201cYou didn\u2019t know your wife was cheating on you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNot a clue,\u201d Watkins replied. He smiled a gapped grin and asked, holding up one of the pictures of his wife, \u201cIf you were married to that, would you ever suspect her of cheating?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI think I\u2019d rather not answer that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Watkins shrugged and muttered something like, \u201cNo matter.\u201d He seemed to be taking it awfully calm, but that may have been because he had just been caught with his own coveralls down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was talking mostly to myself when I asked, \u201cThen why did Shertz hire me to take photographs of your wife? I don\u2019t get it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHuh?\u201d he looked up from the pictures as if he hadn\u2019t been listening.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYour wife goes to Shertz to start divorce proceedings. Shertz, it would seem, hires a private detective to catch you in the act of infidelity; a job that is done quite well. So, why would he also hire me to trail his client and catch her cheating?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know. Why?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat\u2019s what I\u2019d like to know. It seems like his best bet would have been to make his client come out looking virtuous while you look like a jackrabbit. But, as long as I get paid \u2026\u201d I pointed to the contents of his hands and said, \u201cCan I have my photos back?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cUh, sure.\u201d He handed them across the table and picked up the photos that had heated him up and sent him after me in the first place. Then, much to my surprise, he extended his hand across the table and said, \u201cSorry about trying to brain you with the pool cue.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s all right,\u201d I told him, shaking his burly hand. \u201cI\u2019d have probably been more upset if you had been successful.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI was just all worked up when I thought you were going to blackmail me. I\u2019ve been through that before.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As much as I would have liked to know what he meant by that, I was already thinking along other lines. My brow furrowed with confusion, I asked, \u201cBut you aren\u2019t that upset now that you know she was cheating on you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWell, you know what they say: turnabout is fair play.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIn bowling, maybe. But this is a marriage you\u2019re talking about.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cEh,\u201d he dismissed with a wave of his hand, \u201cIt wasn\u2019t much of a marriage.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The attitude was completely incomprehensible to me, but suddenly, I had a pretty clear idea about why his marriage wasn\u2019t working.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI guess I better go back to work.\u201d He said it like it was just the most natural thing to do; like this sort of thing happened on all his lunch breaks. \u201cReckon I ought to give Shertz a call on my coffee break and find out when the divorce proceedings will start.\u201d He laughed good-naturedly and added, \u201cThem lawyers. They sure play both ends against the middle, don\u2019t they?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He left without further ado. Me, I just stood there with my pictures of Mrs. Watkins and the butcher. I got to thinking that-if I\u2019d had any idea the marriage had such casual views of fidelity-I could have saved myself a lot of trouble. Rather than skulking around and taking pictures from house-tops and rose bushes, I probably could have just asked Mrs. Watkins and her paramour to pose for me. I cast one more glance at the ugly couple-now even more distasteful to me since I knew more of the story-then shoved the pictures into my pocket.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Bat Garrett was just a novice private investigator with big dreams when he was approached by two men from the Home Agency-a secretive government body-to go on a mission. On the mission, his dreams seem to come true as he is surrounded by beautiful women, intrigue and danger. The dream turns into a nightmare when the first woman tries to kill him, the second one turns out to just be a plant and the third woman-the one he has to marry-can\u2019t stand the sight of him.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3660,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_mo_disable_npp":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1997,1998],"tags":[1567,1999,1075,1034,1994,1327,1277,1608],"class_list":["post-3659","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-detective","category-mystery","tag-batgarrett","tag-detective","tag-fiction","tag-humor-2","tag-intrigue","tag-murder","tag-mystery","tag-romance-2"],"yoast_head":"\n
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