Dutch Chocolate2, Judge Ye Not

By B.L Wilson

In the second novel in the Dutch Chocolate series, Dutch Chocolate2, Judge Ye Not, Dutch is hired to kill her favorite criminal court judge.

A series of complications plagues Judge Roy MacKay’s courtroom. He’s the sitting judge on an important criminal case against one of the world’s major drug kingpins, nicknamed El Jefe. The judge and his courtroom staff have suffered through several bomb threats, armed guards and personal bodyguards, a courtroom filled with cameras, reporter wannabees, official reporters, and so many court watchers, daily seating lotteries are conducted before court begins.

The jury finds El Jefe guilty on all counts. Now the judge must sentence the drug kingpin in eighteen days. Unfortunately, his daughter has been kidnapped to make sure he releases El Jefe. Judge MacKay hires Dutch to rescue his daughter.

Now Dutch is racing against the clock. She has less than eighteen days to find the judge’s daughter and install her in a safe house before El Jefe’s minions deliver her to a fate worse than death. Can Dutch rescue the young hostage and keep everyone she holds dear safe?

• Language: English
• Publisher: B.L Wilson
• Release date: Dec 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005806781

B.L Wilson

B.L. has always been in love with books and the words in them. She never thought she could create something with the words she knew. When she read ‘To Kill A Mocking Bird,’ she realized everyday experiences could be written about in a powerful, memorable way. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with that knowledge so she kept on reading.Walter Mosley’s short stories about Easy Rawlins and his friends encouraged BL to start writing in earnest. She felt she had a story to tell...maybe several of them. She’d always kept a diary of some sort, scraps of paper, pocketsize, notepads, blank backs of agency forms, or in the margins of books. It was her habit to make these little notes to herself. She thought someday she’d make them into a book.She wrote a workplace memoir based on the people she met during her 20 years as a property manager of city-owned buildings. Writing the memoir, led her to consider writing books that were not job-related. Once again, she did...producing romance novels with African American lesbians as main characters. She wrote the novels because she couldn’t find stories that matched who she wanted to read about ...over forty, African American and female.

Book preview

Chapter Thirty-Two: It’s bad news for Zita. Was it worth it?

Chapter Thirty-Three: Farmhouse updates

Epilogue: I’m living alone cuz the women I love keep dying.

Thank You For Reading!

More Books By BL Wilson

Prologue: I’m so lost without you. I don’t know what to do.

Something happened as soon as Dr. Errol Higgins opened the vice president’s chest and began the surgical procedure to remove the chip. The alarms going off loudly wasn’t part of the open-heart surgery. Neither was the mini flash that Dutch could see from afar. What the hell was that, Errol? She watched in horror as the vice president’s body contorted, jerked, and then seized. Dutch moved closer to the table. She realized something was wrong, very wrong. There was a crater where the vice president’s heart should be. Oh God, no-o-o. Not now. Dutch sank to her knees. She begged and pleaded, Please, God, not now. Don’t do this to me. Errol, do something, please! Don’t let her die.

Nadia and Dora were frozen in time. Dutch would never forget the stunned, shocked look on their faces. While the doctor’s hands froze over the crater, he blinked furiously and then squinted at it in disbelief. For a quick moment, he looked lost. Normally, he’d shock a patient’s heart to get it started again. This patient had a hole where her heart should be. He couldn’t attach the heart-lung by machine to anything. The mini-explosion had damaged arteries and veins. Her chest cavity was filling with blood. The most he could do was clamp off what was left of her veins and arteries and stop the bleeding. Naddie, gimme sponges and clamps! he shouted at Nadia. Dora, get her out of here! Lock the fucking door. Then get back in here and help me! Dutch, get the hell out. If you want to help her, get the hell out!

Goddamn it, Dutch, get out! The more time I spend doing this shit with you means less time saving her life, Dora shouted as she shoved hard at Dutch’s chest, but Dutch wouldn’t move. Instead, Dutch shoved back. Dora tried to wrestle Dutch. It didn’t work because she was bigger and stronger. She managed to put Dutch in a headlock and applied pressure against her neck. She choked Dutch into blackness then dragged her limp body into the outer hallway. She checked Dutch’s vitals before sitting her upright against a wall. Sorry, Dutch. I gotta go try to save her, she remarked as she locked the double doors behind her.

Dora hurried back to the OR, suiting up again and changing her gloves and mask. She’d worry about germs later. Nadia and Errol were clamping arteries and veins while trying to repair others enough to connect them to the heart-lung machine. They didn’t have much time before brain damage set in. They worked silently and quickly, patching, mending, and sewing. Dora, bring the machine closer! Let’s see if we can keep her alive. The first time they connected it, the connection sprang three leaks. They repaired the leaks and tried connecting it again. One artery leaked. They repaired the leak then connected the machine. It pumped blood and oxygen throughout the vice president. Her body seized and then went into convulsions, shaking loose the fragile connections. Blood spurted everywhere. Nadia and Errol wiped at their masks and clamped the arteries and veins they could find. It slowed the blood flow to a dribble.

Nadia snatched off her mask and tossed it to the ground. She paced back and forth, looking the vice president’s open chest. Goddamn it, Errol! She wasn’t supposed to die like this. It was an effing chip! Just a goddamn chip. Who did this exploding shit, huh?

Dora wiped at damp eyes. What are we supposed to tell Dutch? They’re gonna want to do a postmortem on her body. They’ll take her away. Cut her up and dissect her. Dutch will hate us all if that happens.

Errol groaned then pulled his mask off and used it to wipe the blood splatter from his face. I call the president and get everything in motion. You two tell Dutch. If we must, we can sedate her while they remove the body. What do you think?

I think we all need to shower thoroughly. Then we need to start a course of antibiotics. Her blood is all over us. We know she was raped. We know she performed unprotected sex acts and had them performed on her as well. I’m sure the tests we did will show STDs when the results come back, Nadia remarked, studying the vice president’s body with a sad look.

Can we make her look more presentable for Dutch? Dora asked quietly. She’s going to want to see her.

It’s a crime scene, ladies. The most we can do is cover the body with a sheet after we take pictures. We have to save everything in separate labeled bags.

Nadia sighed heavily. Ozzie, set up the OR with video cameras. We need videos of everything.

Twenty minutes later, the Pirellis and Ozzie managed to tackle Dutch and hold her down while Nadia injected a needle into her neck. She had nearly kicked the first set of doors off its hinges when Tony and Angelo found her. She punched holes or kicked, and tried to punch and kick holes in the walls leading to the med-lab. Once she’d settled down, they led her to the OR’s doors to see Judith.

Dutch shoved away from both Pirellis. She walked through the double doors and over to the table alone. Her body swayed. Her footsteps were unsteady. Carlotta prepared to help Dutch until Bonita yanked on her arm and pulled her back. She shook her head. No, Lottie. She needs to do this alone.

Dutch stood, studying Judith’s serene look. Then she pulled at the sheet, exposing her damaged chest. Lily Flowers, what did they do to you? Wasn’t it enough they damaged your reputation with that fucked-up video? Now they killed your body too? She dropped to her knees, blindly grabbing Judith’s hand and kissing it. We finally found each other again. After all these years, all I wanted was to love you. They killed you. I’m gonna kill them. She rose, wiped her teary face, and strode out of the OR without looking at anyone in the small crowd gathered at the door.

Dutch?

Leave me the eff alone! Call the effing president. Tell him the effing doctor failed to remove the shit. Tell him I said she’s not going to the effing FBI lab to be cut into pieces. Tell him I’ll kill anybody who tries that shit. Tell him!

Ozzie cleared his throat, trying to warn her.

The president and his protection marched in step behind him. He heard what Dutch had said.

Your message has been received and understood, Ms. Riggins. May we go somewhere private and talk?

Sir, I don’t advise that until we’ve checked this place out, Secret Service Special Agent Riley interrupted.

The president gave Riley an icy look. Son, go do your job before I reconsider your rank. Take your buddies with you. Errol, Oswald, Dr. Bliss, Nurse Day, show my crime team whatever they need to know. He studied the attractive woman with the white hair and the woman hovering protectively around her who resembled Yolanda Riggins. Ms. Ford and Ms. Benjamin, have I got your names right? He cleared the fog from his throat that was threatening to overtake him. I would feel honored if you both and Dutch would tell me about her last days.

Carlotta nodded then walked over to join him. Yes, Sir. Let’s go outside on the balcony. I understand it’s more private. Nobody can hear us out there. Dutch, let’s go. Bonnie, follow us.

Dutch frowned then folded her arms across her chest. He helped kill her. I’m not going anywhere with him!

Carlotta marched over to give Dutch’s forearm a hard pinch. You will go with us. You will allow him to say whatever he needs to say. You will listen politely. Then you will do what he recommends.

Or what, Lottie?

Carlotta folded her arms, imitating Dutch’s stance. I will quit and never speak to you again after I kick your rude butt into next week. Most days, he’s the President of the United States. Today, he’s just a man who lost a good friend. She watched Dutch’s eyes widen, then she rubbed her neck and finally dropped her hands. That’s better. Let’s go. She walked over to Dutch, rubbing her back and speaking softly to her.

Bonita caught the president’s eye and shrugged. After you, Mr. President.

She has quite a way with Dutch, doesn’t she?

Bonita rubbed her chin. Yes, Sir. It’s not just with my cousin. She seems to know what makes people tick, period.

Has she ever thought about entering politics? I know some folks.

Bonita sighed. It’s probably best to keep our eyes on one ball at a time, Sir.

The president nodded. He reached out and squeezed Bonita’s shoulder. Thanks for reminding me. He sighed then grew reflective for a moment. I can’t believe this is real. It feels like a nightmare I can’t wake up from. Worse yet, I wake up and she’s still gone. His lips trembled. He turned away, unwilling to cry in front of strangers. He cleared his throat several times before he spoke again.

I convinced her to share the ticket with me. I liked her views on education. I liked how she tackled the budget, trying to rein it in for New York State when she was governor. She even managed to work her magic on the unions. She got them to kick in more for pension and healthcare costs. He sighed. If she hadn’t said yes to me, she’d still be alive. Like Dutch said, I am responsible for her death.

Bonita shrugged as she led the way outside to the balcony where Carlotta was comforting Dutch. We won’t know anything until we find who did this, Mr. President.

The president shrugged. It’s still a priority case. We’re working on exactly that. I can’t say more.

If I know my cousin, we will be on it too.

Will you have her call me if you find anything?

Yes, Sir.

They joined Carlotta and Dutch on the balcony. The next several hours, the president and Dutch exchanged stories about Judith while Bonita and Carlotta sat in awe. Neither woman realized just how far back Dutch’s friendship with Judith went or how deeply entrenched her feelings were. They wondered if the president could see what they saw when they looked at Dutch. She was a woman in deep emotional pain who would need help and plenty of it to make life manageable again.

Meanwhile, Paige Underhill continued to work and sleep in her penthouse glass tower office. She vowed to continue to do that until Judith was found and came home to her. Her street contacts claimed nothing was going on. Since the warehouse murders and the man in all black first showed up with the vice president, the streets were unusually quiet. Except for investigators trying to track the man dressed in black, there was no activity.

She continued to receive reports from the task force. However, the report’s focus seemed to be the lab reports, which proved Judith was there. They also mentioned diseases they found in the blood, semen, and feces at the warehouse. Some of the secretions were from Judith’s DNA and blood. Most of them belonged to the dead and living men that they traced through records from the hospital system, the military, the police department, the FBI’s criminal division, and government employee records. The men were interviewed and investigated by the task force. A few of the men had lengthy criminal records. For the most part, they didn’t know anything about a plot to kidnap the vice president. Only one or two of the dozens of men visiting the warehouse for sex recognized the vice president or thought they did. The circle of suspects widened for a few moments then narrowed down to zero.

Paige flipped the last report closed and threw it on the stack of other task force reports. She groaned at the pile of reports on her desk. It was getting taller by the day. Our wonderful tax dollars at work. All this bullshit and nothing to show for it! She swiped at the unstable stack. They all tumbled to the ground. She was in the process of picking up the reports when her office phone.

One of her secretaries tapped on the door. Ms. Underhill, you have a phone call.

I told all of you I didn’t want to be disturbed today.

Yes, Ma’am, I know. The secretary stepped inside. She saw the papers scattered on the floor. Please let me help you with that. She walked over to the desk where the office phone sat. She was ready to press the button to take the caller off hold. It sounded important. He said he’s the President of the United States. When Paige glared at her secretary, the young woman hung her head then tried to justify the interruption. The caller sounded just like him, Ma’am.

Paige rose and strode to the phone. She snatched it from its cradle. This better be the effing president or I’ll track you down and get you arrested for impersonating him! I’m sure you’ll do time when I finish testifying against you.

President Pierce Shelby issued a sad sigh. He dreaded this call more than any other one. When he called widows and parents of deceased service people, he sucked it in and made the calls. He didn’t know the soldiers or their friends or their relatives. Somehow, that made the sorrow easier for him to bear. Today, he’d find no such relief. He knew both women. He liked both women. One of them could have been the kid sister he never had. We found her, Paige.

Paige sat down hard in her chair. Oh god! When can I see her? Where is she? Tell me. I’ll have a plane sent to wherever she is within the hour. Just tell me where, Mr. President. She noticed how he hesitated then cleared his throat several times.

Paige? Honey, she didn’t make it. The president’s voice trembled. She died on the operating table. I know you want to know more. I’ll call you back on a secure line with all the information. I am so very sorry to give you this news. Bye now.

Chapter One: Last goodbyes and the final journey home.

President Pierce Shelby stood on the sturdy metal balcony, gathering his thoughts. He hated that phone call he’d just made. He felt so vulnerable right now. He hadn’t wanted to cry since he’d been a grown man. He’d almost done that on the phone with Paige Underhill. He watched an eagle soaring in the distance. It was approaching early evening, but the view of the snow-capped mountains and the shimmering emerald forest below was stunning. He walked to the edge of the balcony and leaned his elbows on the railing. He heard footsteps behind him. Carlotta walked over and joined him on one side Bonita stood on the other side. It’s very beautiful here. Is that why she built this place?

Carlotta sighed. You’d have to ask Ozzie for sure, Mr. President. I believe that’s part of it. This place is secure if one isn’t wearing a specially designed GPS chip.

How’s your cousin taking this?

Bonita sighed. She broke her hand punching the med-lab doors trying to get into the OR. Errol and Nadia sedated her to set the bones. They gave her extra sedation to keep her out of it while your people do your job. She wiped at sudden tears. She looked at her hands. I’ve never seen her like this, Sir. She’s always been the one who takes care of us.

Pierce Shelby nodded. Speaking as your friend and not your president, just love Dutch. Keep loving her. Spend as much time with her as you can. Listen and just be there for her. She’s going to need that and probably more. She won’t take all the help she needs. Offer it anyway. He sighed. I just got off the phone with Paige Underhill. I wish she had the support system your cousin obviously does.

He caught Secret Service Special Agent Riley signaling him they were ready to go. He motioned for him to join them outside. He looked at the two women, the secret service agent coming outside, and the medical staff following behind them. He cleared his throat. I was wondering about funeral arrangements. She has no immediate blood relatives. I know folks really loved her. The WH mailroom, the switchboard, and website have been overwhelmed with messages of faith and love. I thought about having her body lying in state at the Capitol. I wondered if we should consider transporting her there by train . Folks who can’t get to DC could see her for the last time en route.

What about Paige Underhill?

What about Dutch?

That’s why I’m asking all of you what you think.

Carlotta studied Bonita, then Nadia, Dora, Ozzie, and the Pirellis. They all nodded in agreement. We agree it would be the best way to honor her memory. I think if Dutch was awake, she’d agree too.

I am awake. Dutch grabbed the backs of chairs and a couch to steady herself as she slowly limped outside. Shouldn’t leave doors open. I could hear everything. Why tell them she had listening posts installed that even Ozzie didn’t know about. She stared at the president then nodded. I think she’d like that. Somebody should call Paige Underhill. Tell her how to get here. She was starting to lose control. Her body wobbled. She grabbed on to Tony’s shoulder to keep from falling.

I got your six, Dutch. Tony picked up Dutch like she was a baby and brought her inside.

Tony, put her on the couch, Nadia suggested. She, Dora, and Errol checked Dutch’s vitals and her wounds again. They could see she’d pulled the same stitches on her side and her thigh again.

President Pierce Shelby left to make the funeral arrangements. He’d called Earline and her assistant to organize the dignitary list and the train routes. He’d also asked them to select the dresses for her to wear on the train, another one for the Capitol, and a final outfit for her burial. He told them to email pictures of the outfits to Ozzie for Paige’s and Dutch’s final approval.

When Dutch opened her eyes, she was looking into puffy, red-rimmed light brown eyes. Paige dabbed at her damp eyes as she sat huddled on another couch. An oval-shaped coffee book table that sat on a vividly colored, handwoven Native American rug separated the two couches. Did you see her yet?

Paige shook her head, then she shivered. They wouldn’t let me. They said I should wait for you. She groaned as her body continued to shake with cold. I feel so cold, like I can never get warm again.

Dutch studied Paige for a long minute before sitting up carefully because her thigh felt stiff and sore. She opened the blankets that were covering her and raised an eyebrow. Wanna share the warmth? Paige shrugged then trudged over to sit next to Dutch on the couch. Dutch managed to cover herself and Paige’s shoulders with the blankets. The movements made her side ache, but she swallowed the pain. I was there when it happened, she murmured quietly. Judith didn’t suffer. It happened so fast. Errol opened her chest. He was preparing to connect her to the heart-lung machine. All I saw was a flash of light. When I looked again … a deep hole where her heart should be.

Paige wept then sobbed loudly. Dear god! Why couldn’t the doctor patch up the veins and arteries and reconnect her?

Despite the pain in her broken hand, Dutch pressed her palms against her eyelids to keep from crying too. I think they tried that.

You don’t know? I thought you said you were there.

Should we go in there? Carlotta asked as she, Bonita, Nadia, Dora, Ozzie, and the Pirellis watched Judith’s two lovers from the kitchen doorway. They weren’t fighting as the president thought they might. She didn’t think they would. She thought Judith’s unexpected death would unite Dutch and Paige in a way that Judith’s engagement, had she lived, would not.

I don’t hear any yelling. I don’t see any furniture moving around. I say we let them be, Bonita whispered, standing next to Carlotta. Why don’t we see if anybody’s hungry? I am. She reached out to touch Carlotta’s arm, stroking it. I’ll go see.

Ozzie’s phone pinged. He had a message from an Earline Clark. Wait a minute. Here. Take this to them. He sighed as he gave Bonita the cellphone. It’s the outfits for Judith to wear. They want Dutch and Paige to give the final approvals.

I just lost my appetite.

The odd bond between Judith’s two lovers grew stronger as they discussed the outfits Judith should wear on her final journey home. They both knew Paige needed to see Judith to say goodbye for a final time just as much as Dutch did. The two women used the excuse of selecting Judith’s clothes; then discussing the best train route; then how long Judith should lay in state and whether Judith should lie in state in different cities along the train route to DC to avoid viewing Judith’s body. They wasted more time pretending to eat a late dinner that neither woman touched nor wanted.

Whether they admitted it or not, Paige and Dutch were anxious about seeing Judith after the crime scene folks and the pathologist finished with her body. True, Dutch had seen Judith’s chest open and the flash from the explosion, and again when she was sedated. She hadn’t really seen Judith. She wondered what she would truly see if she went with Paige now.

Over dinner barely eaten on TV trays in the living room, the two women looked at each other, reading the anxiety in each other’s facial expression.

Dutch spoke first. I want to see her to say goodbye without all the cameras and the public displays. She studied Paige, looking into eyes made puffy from crying. She read the sadness in them and the anger too. What about you? she asked softly.

Paige studied Dutch before she nodded. I know I don’t have the right to ask. Please, come with me, Dutch. I want to do this too. I just don’t think I’m strong enough to do it alone, she remarked in a low, weepy voice.

Dutch rose slowly with a loud grunt of pain. She sighed then offered Paige a hand. Let’s do this now while we still can.

Paige took Dutch’s hand and then her elbow.

They walked slowly to the elevator together.

Meanwhile, Ozzie called the med-lab. She spoke with the crime techs, warning them to leave the vice president’s body presentable because Dutch and Paige were on their way to view her. When the two women arrived at the med-lab’s outer doors, Paige broke down, weeping loudly. Paige looked through the emergency doors and saw Judith’s face under a soft spotlight glow. The crime-techs, under Carlotta’s orders, lowered the lighting so her wounds wouldn’t be as visible. Carlotta also directed Nadia and Errol to rejoin Judith’s ribcage and skin then dress her in hospital scrubs or a gown. She envisioned Judith looking as though she was peacefully asleep in the OR.

Dutch rubbed Paige’s back. It’s okay. It’s okay. If you don’t want to do it, wait for me outside. She sighed then pushed the emergency doors open and walked over to the table. She leaned down to kiss Judith’s forehead. Judith looked at peace just as she had before, only this time, she was dressed in a gown. Judith was covered with a blanket and sheet. Her hands were crossed over her chest. None of her upper body’s trauma was visible. I don’t know what to say anymore, except that I’ll love you for the rest of my life. I’d hoped to spend it with you. She issued a shaky sigh and wiped at her tears. She felt Paige rubbing her back as she stood next to her.

Judith … Paige held back a sob. She reached out to rub Judith’s hand. There’s so much to say. She exhaled. You know me. I’m never speechless. Tonight, I don’t have the words. I don’t have them. She sighed. Dutch and I are taking you back to DC the long way … by train. We felt it was the only way for people besides us. Those little folks you were always trying to help need to say goodbye too. I know how much you hate PDAs. I think you’d approve of this one.

Dutch wanted to say how much she agreed, but she was crying silently with a heart full of sadness and what if’s in her imagination.

The slow train ride from upstate New York to DC took three days and 11 hours. It was a sad but glorious affair. People filled the roads that ran alongside the train’s tracks. Some folks stood with a hand over their hearts in silent tribute. Other folks made the sign of the cross when the train passed by. Others issued sharp military salutes at the train with the American flag stretched over the front and back with two black mourning bands across the flags. Still other people waved the American flag or the rainbow flag.

As the train pulled into each major station and some smaller stations, thousands of people who had waited for hours in the rain and snow boarded the train for a last glimpse. Judith was in a coffin that sat in a slightly elevated cradle behind a bulletproof glass in a climate-controlled room. The White House had invited dignitaries from New York State, old friends from the previous jobs she’d held in the legal community, and folks in the cabinet and the Senate and House she’d worked with over the years. And of course, the media rode on the train too. The White House photographer was there to film the funeral for historical purposes.

Dutch and her crew provided additional security working with the FBI, the Secret Service, Homeland Security, and state and local police. She met Earline Clark and Elizabeth Olson for the first time with Paige tagging along to make the introductions face-to-face. The most surprising part in all of this was how well she and Paige worked together. They gave each other moral support to do things that she didn’t think she could do alone. Paige admitted she couldn’t have faced Judith’s death alone either.

Five days later, Judith’s funeral and burial were finally over. But Dutch’s feelings of loss weren’t. She walked around her townhouse not speaking to any of her crew. She didn’t know what to say to them. She didn’t know what to do with them either. The feeling seemed to be mutual.

Among Dutch’s crew members, everybody walked on eggshells around her. Conversations stopped as soon as she entered a room and started again after she exited. Even fearless, frank Carlotta walked around on tiptoes with her. She almost called Paige Underhill and invited her for drinks just to talk. If anybody would understand how she felt, Paige would. Something stopped her each time she decided to make that call. She had no idea what stopped her. She felt the time wasn’t right to go for drinks. There was no reason to celebrate until they caught Judith’s killer.

Chapter Two: Where do I go from here?

Carlotta noticed how Judith’s murder affected Dutch in odd ways. Dutch kept trying to solve the mystery of it. She became more and more frustrated when she couldn’t. The Joint Task Force had been disbanded. All the troops returned to their original agencies. It had been well over 18 months and there were still no real leads for Judith’s murder. The only people working the case now besides Dutch and her crew were Secret Service Special Agent Riley and Special Officer Marsha Sharpe, who was now with the FBI. They both could only work the case during their off-hours. Their investigation was strictly unofficial.

She was breastfeeding one of the twins in Dutch’s office. After their birth and Bonita’s marriage to her, Dutch volunteered to turn her office space into a breastfeeding station and mini-childcare center. Dutch supplied cradles that morphed into strollers and car-seats and bought baby furniture for the supplies her twin cousins needed. She bought a rocking chair for their mama to use when she breastfed them.

Dutch surprised Carlotta by admitting she’d do just about anything to keep her working in the city, even part time. The anything included sending one of the Pirellis upstate to drive her to the city three or four days a week. Or offering the townhouse to Bonita, the twins, and her as a permanent sleepover.

Carlotta knew Dutch was doing all of this because she hated change. She hated the idea that she’d have to replace her very soon. They both knew she, the twins, and Bonita couldn’t keep doing the part-time secretary thing. They both knew Dutch needed full-time help once she got her head back in the PI game. If she got her head back in the game.

Dutch sat at what was left of her desk space, tapping on her computer. She abruptly stood up. She banged on the desk with her fists then started screaming at the computer, cussing it as loud as she could. The babies, who were quietly snoring softly in their beds, woke up suddenly frightened and began to howl. Meanwhile, Dutch was still ranting at the computer when Lottie rushed into Dutch’s office AKA the baby-care center.

Dutch! Go take a walk. You’re disturbing the twins’ nap with all your cussing and ranting, Carlotta hissed as she and Ozzie patted both howling babies’ chubby little backs and then rocked them. They were trying to get the twins to return to sleep. "You need a distraction or something. Find one. Get out before I take my little pistol out and shoot the shit out of