The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag 00 - Swept Under the Rug

been thinking, buying this clown car to haul all of my crap? While I’d watched a video where the car held fifteen bags of quick dry cement, it could only do it with the rear seats down and my vacuum was an industrial strength model, AKA BIG. On a normal day, I had to drop my cleaning stuff at home before I could pick up the kids. Ah, who was I kidding? I loved that car.
    While Marty loaded the rest of our gear, I filled out an invoice and walked it over to Ben. He took one look at the total and sucked in a breath. “You’re kidding, right?”
    “Um, no.” My prices were very reasonable and I’d never had any complaints about my results. Sometimes being a neat freak was a benefit.
    “Shit, Lucas can’t afford this. He still owes me fifty bucks.”
    “Mr. Sloan asked me to clean the entire house, which I did. He knew what my hourly rates were before I showed up today.” I made an effort not to sound defensive, but Ben’s scowl told me it didn’t work.
    “Whatever lady, I’m just saying this is more than I make for two and a half hours of real work.”
    Dickhead. I could have gone into the whole breakdown of supplies, insurance, my partner’s fee—which I would set aside in a secret account for him until after the baby arrived—but why bother? “Have a nice day.” I said instead and hurried back to the car.
    “What was that all about?” My brother asked as I turned the engine over.
    “Another satisfied customer.” I sighed and glanced over to Marty. He had a bit of fuzz stuck in his short hair and he hadn’t bothered to shave. “The guy balked at the bill. Fortunately, he’s not the one who’s supposed to pay us.” We cruised around the Cul-de-sac and headed back to the main road.
    “He didn’t pay you?” Marty fidgeted with the temperature controls and I slapped his hand.
    “Just give it a sec, it’ll warm up. It wasn’t his house, Marty. Don’t worry; I have an arrangement with the other Mr. Sloan. ”
    “You should get the money upfront.”
    I sighed. “Sprout, no one is going to pay their cleaning service upfront, especially not a new client who has yet to inspect the job.”
    “But what happens if that guy tries to talk his brother into stiffing you?” Marty would not let the subject drop. “I mean, what would you do then?”
    My first impulse was to answer that I’d send Neil over to persuade the guy to change his mind. I flinched, my thoughts skirting away from Neil as they had done all afternoon. “Probably threaten to take him to small claims court.” I said instead. “After what the guy has been through with a divorce and a child custody battle, he’d probably rather cough up the money than have another reason to go to court.”
    “I still say it’s risky. One of these days, you’re gonna get burned.”
    I slammed on the breaks and we jerked to a stop six feet before the stop sign. Marty’s words had reminded me of the cut and paste fax. “The Phoenix is rising, you’re gonna get burned,” I muttered.
    “What?” Marty asked.
    “Never mind.” After the reading I’d done on the myth of the Phoenix, I knew the bird symbolized rebirth and eternal life. The Greeks and Ancient Egyptians also believed it was connected to the sun god, who enjoyed its song and unique status, for there could only be one alive at any given time. According to myth, the bird lived from anywhere from 500 to over 1000 years and that when it felt the breath of Death hovering, it would build its own funeral pyre and be swallowed by the flames. A new Phoenix would then rise from the ashes of the blaze to start the cycle all over again.
    Although everyone else believed the note was some type of kinky foreplay, I’d seen fear on both of the Valentinos’ faces. Discounting that theory, the Phoenix is rising would probably refer to the rebirth part of the myth. The you’re gonna get burned, however, made no sense. Other than in the X-Men comics, the Phoenix was not portrayed as violent or vengeful. Several of the articles I’d uncovered had even stated that the bird possessed healing powers. And there was still no explanation for the charred hawk.
    “We’re gonna make a quick trip to the police station.” I told my brother and made an illegal U-Turn at the next light.

Eight

    “ M aggie,” Detective Capri’s expression was pained. “I’ve yet to reach either of the Valentinos. They haven’t filed a report, so I’m without evidence to pursue.”
    Same old song and dance.