The Passion

By Selmoore Codfish

Neal investigates whether arsons have been random or coordinated. The fires seem to be at the same homes that a group of busybodies has identified for demolition. When Neal gets in their way, he fears for his family’s safety. The arsonist could seek revenge by setting his house on fire too. Neal struggles to find time to look into the fires because he has been promoted and has more responsibility at his insurance office. Being the boss at work affects his attitude and causes friction with his wife.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Selmoore Codfish
• Release date: Dec 18, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311345370

Selmoore Codfish

Selmoore Codfish is not really a fish, but a chicken. He’s hiding because celebrity would show that he is not actually funny, just faking it. If the public knew Mr. Codfish’s identity, they would demand that he be funny all of the time. However, he would prefer to remain a dour, grumpy person. Funny people don’t get respect but are thought of as special or different. His friends and associates appreciate his dry seriousness and they shouldn’t be let down by humor.

Book preview

The Passion

By Selmoore Codfish

Copyright 2014 Selmoore Codfish

Smashwords Edition

* * * * *

Table of Contents

The Passion

About the Author and preview of next novel

* * * *

Chapter 1

They are going to assault us again, said Jada. They got Kevin fired from his job, and burned us and the kids out of our home. I’m worried what they’ll plan for us next.

How do you know it was them that burned your home? I asked. She had filed an insurance claim that said the church was responsible for destruction of her house. As an agent for the self-insurance group for the church, I was there to see if she had any evidence.

They wanted us to come here, said Jada as she motioned upwards. Now, they’ve won. She looked exasperated.

We stood in a shelter for homeless women and children. How was it a victory for them to make her live here? In fact, it was a financial burden to the church for them to be at the shelter because the church ran it.

The shelter was in an old mid-town hotel converted to house homeless families. It was right across the street from the Cathedral of Coco Chanel, and their members ran the place.

Why would they want you to live here? I asked. It seemed very unlikely. Maybe Jada was just suffering from paranoia. A lot of ill people probably ended up in shelters.

I don’t know, she said. She furled her eyebrows with displeasure at me. …but that’s what happened. They kept calling us at home and telling us to move to the shelter.

That did sound unusual. However, if Jada was ill, maybe this was the best place for help.

They called Kevin’s work too and got him fired, she continued. They complained about his service. They said that he wouldn’t help them find items on the shelves. I don’t believe it. He is courteous and a good, hard worker.

How do you know that your husband was fired because of complaints? I asked. I tried to figure out if Jada was a person who blamed everyone else for her problems.

One of Kevin’s co-workers overheard the boss. We knew it was the church.

I wasn’t concerned about her husband’s employment because it wasn’t part of the insurance claim. However, if there was supporting evidence related to that, then I shouldn’t overlook it.

I was generally dismissive of people who tried to get money from the church. Our pockets weren’t very deep.

However, there was one fact that made me take them seriously. The Williams’ home had been burned because of arson. That didn’t mean that anyone at the Church had done it. The Williams lived in a rough part of town. Every street had a house that had been burned. If the Church was responsible for all of those burnt homes then I had seen just the tip of the iceberg.

I thought that I should talk to her husband. It would be better to hear his story first-hand.

Where is Kevin? I asked.

Probably the warming center, she replied. They won’t let him in here. No men were allowed. The center where he was at was run out of the back office of the cathedral. They offered food, but no place to sleep. It was probably full considering the cool and wet weather.

The Williams had a mortgage on their house. The private loan insurer would not pay because it was arson. That meant the Williams had to pay back the loan and had no house either. They’d be in deep financial trouble for a long time if that happened.

I gave Jada my card that read ‘Neal Harris’ and had my phone number because she might think of things to tell me. Jada returned to her two children who were coloring at one of the cafeteria tables. I noticed that the boy had kicked off his shoes and they had fallen to the floor. After having their house burned down, they didn’t have many possessions.

It reminded me of when I was young. My parents had moved around a bit. I was born while my parents lived at my grandparents’ home, and my father was between jobs. As dad had related the story later, he said that he had the next one lined up. They decided to wait for me to arrive because mom was nine months pregnant and they’d have to find another doctor in the new town. No one had burned us out of our home. Our transience was due to constantly seeking to improve our lives. We did benefit from it, because I hadn’t lived on a couch since then.

Next, I wanted to talk to the shelter administrator. She had been busy when I had tried to introduce myself on the way in earlier. I stepped around a cafeteria table and started walking towards the hall.

Hi ya, said Katie. She was the volunteer who had brought me to Jada. She was a young woman, probably in college.

It’s too bad how they’ve been treated. It isn’t fair that they have to live here, she continued. I nodded. There were plenty of other children to play with, and they had constant supervision by helpful people. The children looked like they were having fun. Living was in a shelter wasn’t desirable, but no one appeared to suffer from what I saw.

Then I wondered if Katie was trying to tell me that she knew that shelter staff were harassing people to come here. She could have been around enough while volunteering to have noticed problems.

Do you know anything about the alleged harassment? I asked.

No, but Jada has told me about it. If Katie didn’t have original information, then all she could do would be to comment.

Oh, I said, changing the subject. I’d like to talk to the administrator.

Do you need me to show you the way to Barb’s office?

No, I said. I walked out of the cafeteria, through a short hallway, past the lounge, and to the office. She was on the phone. Her office was basic. It had just a desk, chairs and a file cabinet.

The premise of the Church was to help those who needed it. The shelter for women and children was a perfect example. Historically, kings and governments had never done anything to help the people. It was always the Church. Things appeared to have changed in the last century. Governments became more concerned with community health.

It didn’t seem right that the same organization would go out of its way to intentionally harm people. However, if it did, it was my job to fix the problem. Often I thought of my job as public relations and risk management rather than as an insurance agent. With such a large worldwide organization that was poorly controlled, there were many opportunities for it to go wrong.

After a minute, Barb hung up the phone. She immediately started work despite that I stood in the doorway. I knocked. She ignored me, but then finally just started talking. She knew that I was coming today, so I didn’t introduce myself. I didn’t want to be polite.

Barb, does staff at the church or the shelter ever contact potential residents and encourage them to come here? I asked.

Talk to Vicky, she said as she motioned down the hallway.

I supposed that it wasn’t a big deal to her if I had to pay the Jada and Kevin Williams’ claim. It wouldn’t impact her budget. Maybe her attitude was from having a bad day.

Did Barb mean that Vicky would answer my stupid questions, or that Barb had been harassing the Williams? It could be either.

I found Vicky’s office. The nameplate on the door said that she was the business manager. Being an insurance agent, maybe I could connect to someone with a similar background.

I knocked on the door. Vicky looked up. She was a middle-aged woman. Her dark hair was cut short and was straight.

Come in, she said. I introduced myself to her. She nodded to what I said.

The reason that I’m here is to find out more about the Williams, I said. Vicky tensed and her smile went away.

What do you need to know? she asked.

Does anyone contact potential shelter residents to encourage them to come here?

She chuckled at the suggestion. I agreed that it was silly, and I smiled. However, I needed her to deny it. Laughs are not admissible evidence.

So you didn’t call them?

Well… she thought a moment to phrase it right in her head. There is a big difference between offering our services to the needy, and what she says happened.

It was my turn to think a minute. The chess pieces were on the board, and I was playing against someone at my level.

Could Jada have misinterpreted the calls? A church needs to seek out those who suffer. If she was delusional, she could turn any conversation against others.

You handle outreach as well as accounts? I asked.

Yes, I find that it broadens my life. I get to work with more than just numbers. She was giving me her practiced speech. She probably said the same thing line-for-line to everyone else she met.

It wouldn’t be easy to get much from her right away. Maybe the best strategy was to build informality between us.

My job is similar to your, I said. We both do bookkeeping. She smiled.

I like getting out too, I continued. Meeting clients can be invigorating. For example, a while ago I saw a boy here who’d made himself comfortable by kicking off his shoes. It reminded me of when I was young. My family didn’t have much money. Sometimes we had to move from place to place and settle in as best we could.

I started with nothing, too, she said. It was through my industriousness that I was able to have this career.

Uh-huh, I said and I nodded vigorously. Hopefully, she felt that I was on her side.

It’s too bad that your clients aren’t doing the same, I said. I was leading her.

A few do, she said. They should all be able to be successful if I was. They just need to show more discipline. I nodded.

Do they need help getting there?

It looked like she had taken a moment to mentally brace herself. She may have felt that we’d gotten too open. Then she started to rattle off a list of programs that organizations offered. Some were onsite at the shelter. Others were around the city.

I had pushed far enough. She wouldn’t tell me much more. Some of my questions could be answered by the shelter administrator if she would talk to me.

I thanked Vicky, got up and went out of the office. I walked back to Barb’s office. She wasn’t on the phone.

May I ask you a few questions? I asked. She said nothing, but at least looked at me.

Wouldn’t it be best to keep the Williams’ family together? Isn’t there a place for all of them to stay together?

No, she said. There’s not much need. Conflict often breaks families apart before they become homeless.

Men aren’t allowed here?

No! Not even for visits. I’m not running a brothel, she protested. I could see how allowing men to visit might become an issue, because many women were desperate to get money any way they could. However, the separation was very tough on families.

Technically, I wasn’t a visitor, but an auditor. I had seen one other man so far. He had looked like he was part of the maintenance crew.

Besides Jada Williams, have any of your residents ever said anything negative about the shelter? I asked.

You mean besides about the food, and strict environment?

Yes, I meant related to possible issues of harassment.

I don’t know, Barb said. I am very busy right now, but maybe you want to talk to Ellenore. She enjoys chatting for no reason. If there’s anything going on, she probably has an opinion on it. She thinks she runs this place despite being only a volunteer. She comes up with so many ways to take up my time with little fundraisers. At this hour, she’s probably in the clothes store. Second floor. She motioned up, and then she was already back to work. I stepped out.

It felt like Barb was trying to get rid of me, but then Ellenore could know something. I should be grateful for the connection.

I saw a staircase in the lounge and walked back there. A couch had been pushed in front of the stairs. A few toddlers were walking around, so I assumed it was to corral them. I stepped over the couch and went up the stairs.

I wondered what sort of a store would be on the second floor of a homeless shelter. It was obvious when I saw the room. It was a hotel room converted into a place to keep racks of donated clothes. An older woman stood over a box at the back. She was well dressed, not wearing a grungy T-shirt like I would if I volunteered somewhere.

Hello, I said. She glanced at me then back to the box.

What are they going to use this for? she said as she held up an evening dress. It’s better to sell it and give us money. Maybe I can take it to a second-hand store.

She looked around.

Hand me that bag, she said. I gave it to her.

Hello, I said, I’m Neal.

Ellenore, she replied. She didn’t smile.

Barb said that I should see you.

Okay, you can start with that box. Put the items on the clothes racks by size. If something looks too threadbare, put it in the rag box.

I went to the box and started going through it. It was all women’s clothing, and I knew nothing about sizing.

Ellenore, I said.

Yes.

Barb said that you were the person to talk with to learn about the shelter residents.

Really? Well, I suppose. What can I tell you? She perked up.

I started to think of my first question, but she spoke first.

…although, it surprises me. I don’t believe that Barb appreciates my talents. She doesn’t respect me. Her expression became serious again. She told me more about Barb.

As she talked I said uh-huh and Oh, really? I didn’t come here to investigate gossip, but it might become useful to know what people thought of each other. I was beginning to feel that this investigation wasn’t going to have a quick resolution.

What I wanted to talk about, I said during a pause, was if many of the residents have been complaining about harassment.

No, just Ms. Jada, but they all have stories. How do you know her? She paused to look at me.

She filed a claim with the insurer because of her home.

Oh, she said, it’s pretty typical of the residents. They walk in here demanding this or that. They don’t know who they’re dealing with. They have an uppity attitude.

I nodded respectfully. I didn’t know who she was either, maybe she was important. However, I didn’t like what she was saying.

Most of them aren’t too smart. They need help to think straight. They all have their excuses, so it doesn’t shock me when one says her house was burned down. What we need to do is end the coddling that makes them dependent.

I see, I said. I tried to be nice despite her tone. That girl, um, Katie, said that she believed the Williams’ story.

She’s just a child, Ellenore said. She dropped it with that comment. We folded clothes for a couple minutes.

Well, thanks for your help, I said.

You’re welcome, she said.

If I need to talk to you again, will you be around?

Yes. I’m at the shelter most days. Here or downstairs.

Okay, I said. I walked out.

A lot had been going on at my office recently. I couldn’t spend too much time at the shelter.

I thought that it was appropriate to say goodbye to Barb, but then decided that checking out at the front was sufficient. The entrance foyer had a woman behind bulletproof glass, two sets of doors to be buzzed through, and a guest book. I signed out and waved to the receptionist.

* * * *

Hello, Neal, said Bobbie as I walked into the office. Bobbie was the receptionist and my assistant.

Hi, I said.

I have the pledge cards, she said.

I had been anticipating that it was about the time of year for her to collect for the walk. Her friend’s mother had died of cancer a couple years ago and Bobbie took it on as her cause.

A twenty-dollar donation was the price I paid. It would relieve me of obligation of being concerned with her cause for a year. I signed the pledge.

Thank you, she said, as I went to my office.

A lot had changed recently at work. Ted had finally retired. That meant that I was promoted to office manager and then I had to hire someone to fill my slot.

I didn’t know if we really needed to hire another person, but it was easier to do it then to try to get things changed. How would I explain why another person was unnecessary now? The real reason we needed fewer people was office technology upgrades a decade ago. Much of our work became less time consuming then. How would I explain why I was needed in the first place, or why Ted hadn’t been forced to retire earlier? It was best to avoid the conversation.

As office manager, I decided that I should check on my workers. I set my stuff down in my own room and came back out.

I didn’t want Ted’s larger office because that’s where Opal, his assistant sat. It seemed that her biggest work assignment was giving Ted grief. I preferred to put the new agent with her. She could nag him all day.

Hello, Sean, I said to the new person. He was just a temporary employee while we hired the permanent agent. Sean had been assigned from the regional office where he worked fulltime. He was about my age. He was not a candidate to fill the open slot.

Hello, he replied. His demeanor was mostly quiet.

How’s the work going? I asked.

Fine, he said. He managed the same type of accounts at his real job, so I knew that he could handle it.

Opal turned around from her computer.

What Neal really wants to know is if you want to stay, said Opal. He doesn’t like interviewing people.

Sean rolled his eyes, but was facing me, so Opal didn’t see. He shook his head for her.

Getting him to stay would be tough after he had met Opal. However, it was hypothetical because he had too much seniority and pay for what I was offering.

We’d love to have him, I said to Opal, but he has his own life back at Regional.

We appreciate your help, I said to Sean. He nodded.

Without it, Neal would have to actually work hard, Opal said.

I wished that she wouldn’t talk, although everything that she’d said was completely right. I didn’t like interviews, and I was giving all of my paperwork to Sean so he’d go back to regional and say we kept him busy.

It’d be easier on you if I were the director, she said.

"Well, if