Read STRINGS of COLOR for Free Online Page B

again.
    The call was picked up on the first ring. "Back so soon?"
    "Get me his home address."
    "I already included it, and a file on him."
    "No, I want it now!"
    Misty wrote the address down in a fury.
    "Let me know if…."
    Misty hung the phone up before he could finish.

    J ake nearly jolted out of bed when he glanced at his clock. It was almost ten o'clock in the morning.
    As he rubbed his eyes, he screamed at himself for oversleeping. Jake had never gotten out of bed after 7 a.m. in his life. "Life happens in the morning," his mother had always said to him. He had lived every morning by those words.
    Almost immediately, he thought about Misty.
It's her fault
, he kept saying to himself.
    His phone rang.
    "What is it?"
    "I thought you would like to know that I just got a call from her."
    "What did she ask for?" He tried to control the excitement in his voice.
    "She pretty much asked for the same things as you did. You were right; she is a fire-cracker."
    "Did she want anything else?"
    "Yeah, she asked for your address. I told her that I would send it in the file that I had on you but she insisted that I give it to her over the phone. I'm sure you can expect a knock at your door real soon."
    Jake tried not to smile.
    "Did you give her the file on me that I gave you?"
    "Of course I did."
    "Good boy."
    "So I've done my part, right?"
    "Yeah, sure you have."
    "So, you're not going to print that article on me, right?"
    Jake could hear the desperation in his voice.
    "You know it would be bad for my P.I. business if anyone found out that I once had a criminal record. I have some pretty major clients and they don't like doing business with anyone with my background. They can be sleazy all they want, but not the person they are paying. How funny is that?"
    Jake didn't see the humor. Everything about the P.I. business was sleazy to him. However, Ben McCoy was not just sleazy; Jake knew that he was downright dirty.
    Jake pulled out his file and laid it on his desk. He had been doing research on McCoy for years.
If it wasn't for Jazzmyne and this book, he would have been my plan B
.
    "People are people, is all I can say. Look, we had a deal. You held up your end of it, so now, I will hold up my end. Nothing goes to print."
    Jake began to twirl his hair.
    "How did you find out anyway?"
    "I'm not just some columnist, you know. I'm a real journalist."
    "How do I know for sure that the journalist in you won't find yourself in need of a good story one day, and run the one on me?"
    "You don't. I guess you will have to take my word on it."
    "Yeah well, just remember that I'm the best P.I. around and if you double-cross me, I will find something in that so-called squeaky-clean life of yours to use against you, that you can count on."
    "I understand."
    Jake hung up the phone with a smile on his face. He had dealt with many private investigators before. They always say the same thing.
    Jake sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the phone. He felt like a little kid waiting for a big present.
    She's coming here
.
    He looked around his apartment, picked up most of the clothes that had been thrown here and there and glanced around again.
Not spotless but clean
.
Mother always said that "a man should never keep his house too clean, might have a woman thinking that she has nothing to change. Women like a challenge."
Jake had always kept a dish or two in the sink, a shirt thrown on the chair and a pair of shoes in front of the couch, just in case.
    I need to go by and see her. It's been too long.
    Jake glanced in a mirror.
I could use a good shave and a shower,
he thought to himself until he looked down at his hands and noticed that they were shaking just a little.
Why are you so nervous
? He asked himself. "I'm not nervous, just excited," he said out loud
.
    Jake looked back into the mirror.
Man, she already has you talking to yourself.
    He laughed at himself all the way to the bathroom.
    Forty-five minutes later, Jake heard a knock at his