Enter Debra Nickerson, the client

The fourth chapter of the Black Widow novel

4

It was eleven o'clock in the morning and Shaw was still feeling the after effects of the night before, he had downed seven cups of noodles and four cups of coffee and yet the taste of Roses tea still lingered on the roof of his mouth.

“Excuse me mam, another coffee please.” Shaw politely asked the attractive waitress passing by his table on the deck of an outdoor café downtown. Hopefully the eighth cup would be the charm. He prayed, pulling out his phone and scrolling down to his notes.

Name: Debra Nickerson

Married three years

Personal info: Three kids, house in the suburbs, suspects infidelity with husband.

Shaw didn’t need the money as much as he needed to get his mind on something else, he needed something easy, and what could be easier than an unfaithful husband in the suburbs. “Here you go, one coffee.” The waitress greeted,  her tone a bit more friendly than usual, causing Shaw to look over his police shades and notice how beautiful she was. “If you need anything else I’ll be over by the booth over there.” She smiled seductively clenching the menu at her side tighter as he quickly turned and walked away. Shaw wondered if he had enough time for the waitress and the meeting with Nickelson but in the end he gave way to professionalism.

Shaw chose places like open dinners and public, well crowded places to meet his potential clients.  Though most private investigators meet in the security of their offices Shaw liked to watch his clients in their natural habitat. That brief moment after they exit the car and they sweep the room for Shaw, he would watch them. He believed that by the time the potential client actually came up to him, he would have already decided on whether or not he was going to take the case. Debra Nickleson was no exception.

She pulled up in a red minivan, a small slender woman in her early thirties emerged. Shaw watched her carefully as she made her way up the stairs and into the outdoor coffee shop counter. She walked without confidence, and an uncertainty that reflected the inner doubt she had about even showing up, her clothes were plain and her hair was tied into a tight bun, her large knockoff bag, clutched tightly under her arm and as she made a sweep of the room for Shaw she continued to walk deeper and deeper into the shop rather than staying at the counter. Shaw chuckled to himself; he would take the case.

“Excuse me sir, I'm sorry to bother you, but are you Damien Shaw?” she asked him, her high-pitched mouse like voice matching the rest of the mental picture he had put together.

“Why yes I am, please have a seat.” He gestured her to sit which she did rather quickly. She sat for a second before darting her focus behind her and once more sweeping the room, her caution and sheepish demeanor intensifying  her reaction to every sound. “Are you alright mam?” Shaw asked slightly concerned as he removed his shades and placed them into his jacket pocket.

“You don’t think we could do this in your office?” she asked her eyes darting from him to the couple behind him, then to the waitress, then to the table.

“Please relax Misses Nicolson. As far as the outside world knows we are just two ordinary people sharing a cup of coffee.” His words made Ms. Nicolson snort in disbelief as he clutched her purse tightly.

“I’ve never done anything like this before, how do I know…”

“How do you know this isn’t some sort of scam?” Shaw finished for her. Ms. Nicolson nodded sheepishly as she looked around the room once more. “I suppose there’s really no way to fully convince you. What are the names of your three boys?” Shaw asked taking a sip of his coffee.

“Mikky Jr., James, and Taylor, How did you know I had three boys?”

“The same way I know that Mikky Jr. plays soccer, and that you husband doesn’t let you go anywhere without him except for the weekly drives to practice and school drop offs.” Shaw finished, puckering his lips as he looked at the coffee realizing that the awful tea taste still remained.

“Who are you? How do you know all of those things?” she asked her sheepish voice pitching slightly higher as she clutched her bag tighter on her lap.

“Please Ms. Nicolson I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm here to help.” Shaw comforted her as he gestured to one of the waitresses for another coffee.

“Have you been watching me?” she whispered.

“Yes man, from the time you exited your car from the time you sat down at the table.”

“But that was only five minutes!” she exclaimed with astonishment.

“I inferred you had three boys by watching you; you plain attire speaks of fatigue, three boys can be a handful. Hair tied in a bun, over aging, worry marks under your eyes are all subtle signs that the three children you have are all abnormally active boys,” He related, making Ms. Nicolson become over self-conscious.

“But what about my husband and the soccer games, How did you know about that stuff?” she asked as she picked up the freshly brought coffee up and began to sip its dark liquid.

“that took a little more observation on my part; the way you hold yourself, sheepish and small tells me that you're not fearful, you're just used to being spoken for, he would decide when and where you ate and socialized, always monitored, never alone. It would make sense that since he had no knowledge of this meeting that you would feel a little naked without him. The fact that this behavior seemed so familiar to you speaks to how long you have been with Mikky, I'm assuming right out of high school?”

“Um…yes,” she managed.

“Then it was just a good guess that Mikky Jr. was the first born, a guy like Mikky sounds like the type of person that would name his first be after himself. The fact that Little Milky played soccer was as obvious as looking at your car and the soccer bumper stickers.” He finished leaving his client speechless.

“So what now?” she managed still blown away at Shaw’s display of deductive reasoning. Shaw half smiled realizing that his little show had took its effect. He leaned forward.

“We talk about your husband, I need to know who he is, where he works, why you think he'd skip out on such a beautiful woman like you.” He pressing the record bottom in his recorder app and placing his phone on the table. The bashful Ms. Nicolson blushed as she smiled and suddenly got serious.

“If my husband ever finds out…”

“Your husband will never find out, my job does not require that we ever meet face to face. “Shaw reassured. “So Ms. Nicolson, tell me your story.”

Reviews

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Wow, Damien Shaw sounds extremely perceptive! I am unsure of how he came up with the number three for the number of kids but I can see why he would be a smart detective. I am looking forward to seeing how this tale unfolds

[Yaseen J Malik]

thanks! ill be posting more soon