Page 22 of In the Line of Ire

"Yeah.Remember some of the videos had commercials just like on TV? That'srevenue."

"Howmuch are they making?"

"I can'tsay."

"Whynot?"

"BecauseI don't know. But whatever it is, they'll want to keep the cashflowing, especially since the more clicks they get, the more moneythey get."

"That'spretty much what Lily said." I contemplated it for a moment. "Whatif I paid them off?"

"Theycould just take the cash and re-upload the video within the hour.It's not worth it."

"I haveto try," I sighed. "That cannot stay on the screen forever. Yourecognized me. Someone else will too. How can I hope to be arespected, serious professional private investigator with videoslike this floating around?"

"You manage to be a respected, serious private investigatordespite how often you like to wear those flowered blouses; and lastweek, you wore a cardigan withCutewritten on the chest pocket," saidLucas.

"Lexi?"A burly man with biceps the size of my thighs approached thedesk.

"Yeah?"I tried to summon up the enthusiasm to smile but the expression Ieventually pulled made even the mountain of a manflinch.

"There'ssomeone downstairs for you in meeting room one. Solomon said youcould take it since you aren't busy. Shall I tell him you'realready occupied?"

"No,I'll take it," I said. I patted Lucas on the shoulder. "Thanks forthe help."

I joggeddownstairs and slowed to a walk as I approached the meeting room.The door was left open often and inside was a very pretty womanwith poker-black hair and lovely, wide eyes. I thought she mighthave been Native American but since she didn't immediately ask myorigins, I didn't ask hers either.

"Hi, I'mLexi Graves," I told her, holding out my hand and shakinghers.

"NatalieMorgan," she said. "I just spoke to your boss, Mr. Solomon, and hetold me you handled the walk-in cases."

"That'sright," I agreed. "How can I help you?"

"I triedto make an appointment yesterday but I couldn't get through on thephone. I was driving past now and thought I'd take the chance thatsomeone could see me."

"I'msorry no one was available earlier. We were all working on a caseyesterday," I said, thinking back to the mall. I shudderedinvoluntarily as the image of the poor dead woman sprang into myhead again.

"Yes, ofcourse. I know you must be very busy," said Natalie. "I'll try notto take up too much of your time."

"Tell mewhat the problem is," I said, feeling slightly guilty at herobvious discomfort and because I might have just made itworse.

"Something weird is going on at my house."

"Howso?"

"I'velived there almost a year and recently signed a lease for anotheryear. When my husband and I got divorced, we had to sell our houseand I found this one not too far away. It was great at first, andup until a couple of months ago, when strange things startedhappening."

"What doyou mean by strange?"

"Thingsstarted moving around. Pictures suddenly hung crooked, orphotographs were moved. A window was found open that I was sure I'dshut. I thought I was imagining it, then one day, the tea kettlewas whistling on the stove right when I got home fromwork."

"Doesanyone else live in the house?"

"My twodaughters, Lucy and Emily."

"Couldthey have put the tea kettle on?"

Natalieshook her head. "Lucy was at cheerleading practice and Emily was atstudy group. I got home first. No one else was in the house. Iremember leaving the tea kettle on the stove that morning, but Ididn't leave the burner on. And then three days ago..." Shefaltered, swallowing.

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