Today was a pretty good day at work. In between responding to emails and updating reports, I was able to do some research and write some notes for my novel. The ideas that I’ve been coming up with lately are getting better. It looks like all of the mystery books I’ve read over the years are starting to paying off. For the last couple of years I’ve also read electronic books downloaded to my computer and Ipod. Audio books also come in handy while I’m driving around town.
I racked up 1,016 before my bedtime. I haven’t gotten back on track yet but I’m getting there. Since I solved my crime too soon, I had to come up with some material that can be added to the middle of the book.
“Well, I travel a lot and I noticed that my wallet was missing when I reached for it to tip the driver who had taken me from the airport to the hotel. I couldn’t have left it at home because I had to have my driver’s license when I picked up my airplane tickets from the desk. After that I put my wallet in my carry-on bag and put the boarding passes and my passport in my jacket pocket. I hate using the bathroom on the airplane so I left my bag near my seat and went to the men’s room. When I came back, my bag was still where I left it but one of the zippered compartments was open.”
“You’ve never noticed those signs all over the airport warning people not to leave their bags unattended?”
“Of course I’ve seen them but I had never had a problem before. I usually tell someone sitting near me to watch my bag but this time when I came back, no one was around and my bag was open.”
“Did you get a good look at the person that you asked to watch your bag?”
“Yes, but…s he umm…”
“What’s was wrong with her?” I observed Mr. Phillips’ uneasiness and guessed why the cat had his tongue. “She was black right?”
“Well, actually she was African. She looked like a really nice lady, it couldn’t have been her.”
I don’t even think he believed that himself, “What was so nice about her? Was she pretty?”
“Yes, very pretty, exotic. She looked well to do and had on some nice jewelry, like she had everything she could ever want.”
“Sounds like you had a crush on this African princess,” I smiled.
Mrs. Alma had been sitting at her desk pretending to file, but I knew she was listening intently. She giggled at my comment.
“Ms. Johnson, I am a happily man. At least I was until the bottom fell out. Do you think that you’ll be able to help me?”
“I’ll try. If only we had a way to get in contact with the woman you talked to.”
“She gave me her number. Don’t look at me like that, I’m in the jewelry business and we exchanged numbers because she said that she had a necklace that she wanted to get appraised or possibly sell.”
Mr. Phillips handed me the card the woman had given him. Hinniyah Bendele was the owner of a boutique on Elvis Presley Blvd in the Whitehaven area.
“Can I keep this card?”
“Sure, I have two.” Mrs. Alma giggled again. “She gave me two in case I lost one,” Mr. Phillips said in his defense.