Warpaint

In your email, if you click on Trouble And Money under the photo, you will be brought to a better reading experience. - Michael Lee

Somewhere On The New England Coast

I'm at the table in our living room, which now serves as the world headquarters of my Investigation Agency. Tango and I are back from our early morning regular, where we ensure the ocean is still there and the waves are rolling in and out. The Atlantic checks all those boxes today. 

Eve is in the shower doing her best Alicia Keyes impersonation, and Tango loves it. He keeps cocking his head to one side and singing along in a lower pitch. We don't have a Gladys Knight or a Pip in the trailer, but Tango is pretty good. 

I have begun investigating The Case Of The Emmy Award-winning actress, and here is how I will proceed.

Natalie's memory of two things was quite clear.

The name on the side of the truck was for a company called Super Apple Trucking, and she also knew the name of a supermarket chain on the trailer.

Things that need to be moved by truck are matched to independent trucking companies that offer their services. In this case, the truck drivers would not be employed by the supermarket chain but the trucking company.

We know the general geography of where this truck was operating: U.S. Route 40 West, which ends in Utah.  Natalie got assaulted by the two drivers in Missouri. She is sure of that.

Thank god for the Internet.

It cost a few dollars, but I ran a background investigation on Super Apple Trucking, which was registered but is now defunct in Ohio. What used to take weeks took me the amount of time it takes to drink half a cup of Eve's Best.

Eve stands over my shoulder, smelling like the two million dollars buried under our deck.

She said, "Are you working on Nat's case?"

"Yep"

I then told her how easy it was to check the Internet for the trucking company's name. Eve said,

"Will you file for workman's comp if you get a blister or a paper cut?"

"Those keyboard strokes can be brutal."

"Can you get a blister on your ass?" 

It's not even 5:30 am, and I am taking shot after shot from a world-class ball-buster.

I will be the first to admit that Eve has a demanding job that requires her to stand quite a bit and move things in and out of the oven.

There is also the physical labor of kneading dough, brushing butter, frosting, and managing employees.

I concede that she works hard, but she has to understand that Taking care of Tango, being on a computer, drinking coffee, lifting weights, and range work is all a chore. I won't get my forearms burned in an oven, but I may get into a scuffle. 

She laughed at me and went to get dressed.

Columbus, Ohio

Brad decided that his last act, with what strength he had left, would be to kill Natalie Leuze.  She killed his brother. He would go to Maine and then not return to Ohio. The story would end in Maine.  He thought about this.  

Would the authorities put two plus two together and determine that Natalie was the target? 

Should he leave a note at the scene confessing what he and Steve were?

There were sixteen girls and women buried in a field in Utah. Most of the women were "Lot Lizards," the prostitutes that solicited truckers at truck stops. The others were girls looking for rides.

Brad thought about this and justified his form of "dating" due to the constraints on his time that trucking caused. There was no nine-to-five schedule, with Friday nights spent in Honky Tonks asking women to dance and having them reject him.

Giving them rides and taking them in the back of the truck was an efficient, quick date that didn't involve buying dinners or wasting time on small talk. 

Throwing Steve into the mix made it a "Twofer Deal" or a "BOGO."

The first date was with a lot lizard who offered to "Clean their cab" for $40.00. It was so easy, so special, and she was nice. 

Brad and Steve waited another four months before they dated again.

After the fifth date, it became an easy habit.

Brad had not been on a date since Natalie killed Steve.

It would be too hard for Brad to drag a dead body from the shoulder on the road to the spot where the digging happened. 

Natalie ruined that.

Brad laughed while thinking of the victims. The part Brad liked most was the money he saved by dating in a non-traditional way and the look all the girls got when they realized they were not getting out of that truck...ever. Brad did not get to see that look on Natalie's face.

Brad thought about seeing her again in Maine; they would have a proper date this time. He'd been waiting for years.

​Luxury Hotel, Boston, MA

Natalie was cleared to leave rehabilitation. She was pleased to leave Boston in two days.  

She could not wait to see her dog, Ricky Ricardo, and her tiny coastal saltwater farmhouse.  She even missed The Bee but was unsure if she was ready to handle that yet.

Nat had spoken with the uppers of the rehab hospital, and she agreed to make her release a press event where she spoke briefly about the excellent staff and all their hard work that contributed to Nat getting on her feet again. This would be a shot in the arm for the hospital, and it would also be the first time Natalie faced the press since the day she was stabbed.

Later today, Nat was meeting with a law firm that she had chosen. She would tell them everything about that night in Missouri, and they would begin figuring out every angle before the stabbing suspect was taken in.

She then thought about Thomas Allston.  Holy shit, he was some man, she thought.  Tall, funny, smart, a little rough on the edges, but when he smiled, it melted her. They seemed to get along very well.

TEXT NATALIE: I'll be meeting with Lawyers today (Yecccch). How are things going? TEXT ALLSTON: I'm making good strides and I'll have some answers for you tomorrow. TEXT NATALIE: We should meet soon to discuss this. Can I let you know when and where? TEXT ALLSTON: Of Course! 

Natalie wanted to buy something thoughtful for Eve and Allston's house.

She decided to take a little stroll down Newbury Street.

Natalie was press savvy and knew she would be spotted by someone while hitting a few galleries. 

Whoever got those phone snaps into the Brit papers first would make a good amount of money.

She started to put her makeup on.

​