Jennifer arrived at Dan Spitz’s office, a sight better than Mr. Little’s, but no more reassuring. It was on the back side of a little strip mall, next to a laundery and an empty storefront. She was beginning to think the whole private detective idea of hers was kinda stupid, but one thing Jenn had, other than beauty and a mean streak, was a ton of stubborn and she opened his door.
The room’s overhead lighting lit a sparsely furnished room with a beige patterned carpet. A nice desk, several file cabinets, a black computer that probably cost as much as the rest of the furnishing and no Spitz. Are they all at some detective convention or something? though Jenn, her easy temper rising. Sploosh!, a toilet flushed, brief secondary water noises and a man emerged from a back door wiping his hands on his pants.
“Hey, didn’t hear you come in, I’m Dan Spitz. How can I help you little lady? Got a cheating hubby?” He came up to her, too close into her personal space wished, especially with the amount of cologne he had on.
“No, it’s something different,” she started to explain slowly, trying to think of how to phrase this. “Well, I found this thing that shrunk people. After I crushed a guy, I wanted more information.” Right, Jenn, try again. Maybe a research project, she thought, but Mr. Spitz interrupted. “Whatever it is honey, it’ll have to wait. I’ve already got a case that’s going to take all my time for the indefinite future.”
“This is important,” Jenn insisted.
“They all say that, honey.” Dan was not improving with experience. “Now leave me a contact number and I’ll give you a call when I’m not so busy.”
Forget that, thought Jenn and took out the device.
“Hey,” Dan Spitz said sharply, “Where’d you get that?” He made a quick grab for it. He actually got a hold of it before Jenn could get the button pressed. Zap! Quickly, she stooped down and grabbed the little guy before he could recover. She emptied a cup of cold coffee into the trash and dropped him in the bottom. Eventually, he stood and looked up through at the circle of her head he could see.
“You’ve got one chance, Danny boy.” She poked him hard with a fingernail, shoving him back into the coffee residue. “You recognized this thing I’ve got. You can tell me everything you know about it OR you lie and die. Maybe I fill this cup with hot, scalding coffee again? Or maybe I dump you onto the floor and crush you under my sandals. Well, Mr. Spitz?”
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