Ok, let’s wrap this up. The boss needs to get back to work, documenting my other cases.
So, after my trip to the ER, I knew my heart wasn’t into being an attorney. Insert drum rimshot here. Seriously though, I got tired of being a part of a justice system that too many times rewarded outcomes to the person with the biggest bankroll. Even when the good guy won, there were so many appeals and litigation that the victims often never got the justice or compensation they really deserved.
Thanks to my early investments, I had the financial means to seek out justice in my own way. Moving back to Florida, I set up a private investigation service in my old stomping grounds of Milton, Florida. It’s bull crap that you can’t go home again. Just don’t expect it to be the same.
Setting up an office was the first thing on my list. Never one for the conventional, I passed on the idea of setting up shop in some strip mall or repurposed small house. Instead, I answered an online ad and bought a refurbished tugboat out of New Orleans, and parked it on the Blackwater River. I’d fallen in love with the idea of living on a boat ever since watching Miami Vice as a teen.
For the most part, I sought out cases where people were fighting a losing battle against injustice. The system is rigged to favor those with money. Since I had a lot of money, I could help those who didn’t. Also, thanks to a stepfather in the intelligence world, I learned the tools of surveillance and research. Additionally, even after he and my mother died, I still maintained contact with his sources in the community. Their “off-the-books” help is invaluable.
A PI needs to have a working relationship with local law enforcement. Again, luck was on my side. My best friend from high school, Dennis Butte, is a deputy with the Santa Rosa Sheriff’s office. Both willingly and reluctantly, he’s been a major help in many of my cases, as well as an invaluable friend.
And then there’s Lisa. Yes, she was still living in town. After I split, she also went off to college. Only, her education was cut short by a date rape by a senator’s son. The well-connected family offered her a quick medical solution in Atlanta, as well as a hefty check. She declined both. Nine months later, Camille was born. At first, times were tight. However, Lisa’s a wiz at figures and quickly went from doing folk’s taxes and bookkeeping to opening her own one-woman consulting. firm.
We crossed paths one Sunday afternoon at a mall bookstore. I was looking for the latest Clancy or Grisham novel, while she was trying to hide the Anne Rice erotica she’d been perusing. We started dating, and we were married a year later. It wasn’t all smooth sailing. I had a lot of growing up to do and a massive anger issue problem. She had unresolved trauma and trust issues due to her abusive past. However, we worked hard on making things work. She and Camille saved me.
Ok, now we’re up to speed. I’m not going to tell you about my cases. You’ll have to read about them in the boss’s books. There are some crazy adventures as well as a wacky cast of characters. After all, this is Florida. And you know many great stories begin with, “A man in Florida…”.
