Well...there was that...

So. In a move that only half-surprised me, I was let go from my new job on Monday.
Yeah.
I was shocked at the time. I mean, I'd been working hard. Really hard. And I'd been learning the way they process everything. And I'd been willing to do anything they asked of me. I was opening the mail and not bitching about it. I was doing the processing part of my job even as they told me I'd be moving on to things more relevant to my hiring. I wasn't checking the internet except maybe twice a day (for a total of maybe 10 minutes--break time really). I was going all out. I really was.
But. There were signs. Like it took them three weeks to give me a key to the front door. So, I had to ring the bell if I went to the bathroom or out to lunch. They never set up my email (though it was supposed to be a big part of my job), and they never gave me an employee handbook--which I just studied in paralegal class and found out how important they can be. Of course, I studied at-will employment last Saturday too, so I knew they could fire me with little or no reason and everything would be perfectly legal.
So. That's what they did. They said I wasn't a fit and let me go. Simple as that.
And it's different this time. Last time, I felt responsible. And I hate failing when it's my fault. This though. This wasn't quite my fault. It's only my fault in that I should've asked better questions at the interview. I should've sussed out that they didn't really know what they were going to do with me. And I shouldn't have accepted the benefits package they offered me. That's on me, no doubt. But, that's really not the biggest part of the problem. And it makes a whole difference when you feel like you're let go for something you can't control.
And I don't want to go into the whole thing of it. I think the people I worked with were nice enough people, so, you know, whatever. I wish them luck, but I do know they'll have a tough time replacing my production for what I was desperate enough to agree to work for.
I'm just hopeful that the economy will pick up and people will start suing each other in a way that requires law firms to employ a high quality, energetic, smart paralegal. I'm finishing up my second semester now and I'm still doing really well. So, I'm closer to being seen as a paralegal, even if I could step into the job and do a good job now.
And if nothing else, I'm now open to doing an internship next semester. So. There's that. I guess what I'm saying is there's more reason for me to feel hopeful now. And Ido feel more hopeful.

General Update...

• So, a lot of things have happened since the last non-Gumshoe update. I had my 1st year anniversary being the biggest, I guess. That's right, for all of you who had "under a year" in the pool (and were sure that me getting fired was gonna help you cash in), your tickets are no longer valid.
• My mom had some sort of heart scare. I say some sort not because I didn't listen to her talk about it, but because they're not sure what it was yet. Her pacemaker had to shock her heart into rhythem 5 times a couple weeks ago, but after looking at a lot of reasons why, they can't find anything. She doesn't seem to be too worried about it. I think she's sort of resigned to it being like this from here on out.
• I've started trying to talk to my dad. I say 'trying', because I really don't know what the hell to talk to him about now. We're stuck at "okay, we're talking now". I mean, he basically missed 2 years of my life. How do you catch him up on that? And how do I catch up on his life? I think it doesn't happen. But. I would be mad at myself if I didn't try.
• And what with my mom having to have tests done on her heart, and going to her doctor alone. I find a renewed sense of anger that my dad just walked out. At this point, I know it's not his fault and it's not really mom's either, but it sucks.
• The job is going well. It's nice feeling like you've done a good deal of work (and they are definitely working me hard) and getting that feeling of accomplishment. I missed that a lot when I was without work. When Friday comes, I'm back to feeling that moment of euphoria when I walk out the door and the weekend opens its arms to me like a freind telling me we can go anywhere.
• Starting to get my final assignments for this semester of class. I'll tell you, working and going to school at night is rougher than I thought. I'm very tired after classes Monday and Wednesday nights. And the weeks where I have Saturday class (like this Saturday coming up), it takes me until Thursday to feel awake and lively.
• A couple weeks ago, Dinah's parents visited. They came in Saturday and left Wednesday morning. I had class Saturday, Monday and Tuesday, so I saw very little of them. And what I did see of them was clouded by a tired haze of having just started a job and having a busy class load at the time.
• Next semester, it's Wednesday and Thursday classes. Just two classes. I'm excited. Commercial Law and Legal Technology. Which means I'm almost through with my program. Wow. It's actually gone pretty quickly.
• Chris Carpenter went down last week setting off an angry tirade that I made against the baseball gods on my fantasy baseball webboard. You see, I had tickets to see the Cards play the cubs at Wrigley, last Sunday. Carpenter was scheduled to pitch, but after he went down, the Cards switched to Todd Wellemeyer. And the baseball gods intervened and rained that game out. Apology accepted baseball gods.
• Gumshoe stuff is going to be more regular in the near future. I'm in good shape class-wise and I've figure out how to make my schedule work. So. Hopefully, I will be more on top of it.
• Finally saw Adventureland. It's a good movie. I really liked the way it looks at that confusing time after college (early to mid 20's are a weird time) and how it didn't shy away from the stupid things we all (or at least I did). It wasn't as funny as I thought it might be, but it was much more touching and thoughtful.

Continuing adventures of the Gumshoe (#4)

Sorry it took me this long, but what with having a job and still having school, my time has become a premium. But this is important to me, so I'm hoping to make this happen much more regularly than it has up until now.
You have to be a good judge of character in this job. Take, for instance, my situation with the good detective. I would be a fool to let him handcuff me if I thought he was involved in this or if he gave me some form of the heebie geebies. For some reason, I liked this guy. Trusted him. He was doing me a big favor by letting me in there at all, but anytime you get in handcuffs it’s a risk. And I’d only known this guy for a few hours. This was either the fastest jump to handcuffs two men have consensually made or it’s a huge mistake. Still, I like to know the odds are in my favor. Of course, sometimes you have to make sure they are.
We made our way up the stairs. What this place lacked in charm on the outside, it made no attempt to make up for on the inside. The railing was rickety and falling. The lights flickered and there was a thin layer of what I have to call “goo” covering the floor. The second floor door had a welcome matt in front of the door, which almost distracted from the police tape across the doorway.
“So, I don’t think I caught your name the other night.” I said, trying to break the odd silence of walking upstairs while I was wearing handcuffs.
“I guess you wouldn’t have.” He said quietly. “Chance Greer.”
“Good to meet you.” Trying to offer him my right hand to shake, but giving him both instead. “I’m [gumshoe].” We made a nice shake of it anyway.
He pulled a flashlight from inside his coat. “No lights in there. So you stay 2 feet close to me at all times.”
As he opened the door and flicked on the light, I could tell I was going to regret this. “So, you think I’m innocent.” I said taking a step through the door as he opened it. The room (and that was all it was, one large room, a toilet behind a door and a furnace standing near the far corner) was what you’d call an “open floor plan”, but I can’t imagine that’s a concern of anyone who rents here. There was a little light coming in through the windows, which probably lit the room about as much as anyone would want. In the harsh light of the flashlight, a lot of ugly stains showed up. I don’t think they necessarily had anything to do with the crime, but it certainly didn’t help.
I slipped the handcuffs and slipped them off. Ahh, yes, putting the odds in my favor.
“Why would I think you’re innocent?” He said.
“No way I can talk you into this if you’re not having your doubts.”
“She. Edna. She’s got something against you. I haven’t figured out what it is, but she doesn’t like you and I think that’s clouding her on this.” He shined the light on the ceiling and I saw the chains hanging down, catching the light with an almost playful glint. “This is where she was found. Hanging from these chains.”
“So, she was far enough that no one could see in from the street.” I looked at the chains. They were thick. I know a lot about chains as you can see. “Yeah. There was a thing when I left the force.” He moved his light down the chains as if he expected the chains to tell us something they hadn’t before.
“Yeah. No one tipped us as to what was inside. The apartments across the street aren’t inhabited by what you would call upstanding citizens. What sort of thing?” He shined a light on the floor.
“I got caught up in a murder investigation. I was the prime suspect for awhile and I took off. Pissed Edna off. Eventually, the evidence turned a different way and I was off the hook. Still, I left the force before they could kick me off—you know for running out on an investigation—and set up as a PI. Edna didn’t appreciate me running off without a fight.” I took a breath. “No blood on the floor.”
I was looking over the scene, when I heard the rustling in the corner behind the furnace. Chance kept his flashlight steady on the area below the chains.
“A lot of rats in here,” I said hoarsely.
“Yeah. Saw a bunch in here the other night.” He slowly shined his light back up the chains. “We thought whoever it was moved the body here after she died. Can’t figure out a reason, yet.” He paused. “You got a way of screaming innocence.”
“Last time it was suffocations. Rope, I think.” And then he shined a light on the wall, and I could see the writing. “Well. That right there is why I’m a prime suspect, Chance.”
“So, you do recognize it?”
I wasn’t a big Meatloaf fan. Don’t get me wrong, he had some great stuff going on in the 70’s and his voice was that of an unchained god. And some of his new stuff is not without its charm, but he just wasn’t to me what he is to other people. But, I can recognize most of the unobscure Meatloaf lyrics. Call it a gift if you must. “Yeah. I recognize it.”
In large painted letters on the wall was, “WILL YOU HOSE ME DOWN WITH HOLYWATER IF I GET TOO HOT? HOT!”
“Meatloaf?” He said.
“Yeah.” I turned to look at him. “That’d be why she asked about my record collection.”
“That’d be it. Didn’t find any Meatloaf though.”
“No. But you did find some REO Speedwagon, which probably means something, since she was probably dressed after she was killed.”
“That how it was last time?” He kept his eyes on me, but didn’t give anything away.
“Yeah.” I closed my eyes and I could still see Mindy James. I’d known her in highschool. Went to junior prom with her, but it had been a while and a lot of arguments before she was found her chained to the wall, same way Ms. Flettering had been. Strangled, dressed later and chained up. We think she stayed that way for a couple days until a mailman walking by the house smelled something and peaked in a window.
“Still a lot of people like REO Speedwagon, so it’s not like there’s a lot on you. Yet. You done?”
“Yeah.” I spoke quietly. I didn’t say much as we walked down the stairs and out the front door. I waited until we got to the car. “You read the file on that case?”
“Just this morning.” I threw the cuffs at him. “So, you’re a magician too?”
“I’m full of surprises.” I rubbed my wrists and let out a sigh. Knowing that a murder spree that claimed 6 people, ruined the lives of friends and family, and punched my career in the kidneys, had been thrown in my face again wasn’t sitting well with me.
“So. What’d you find out about that client of yours?”
“You didn’t seem to be buying that last night.””Ahh that,” he said with a waive of his hand, “you know how it is. You keep shaking someone till something falls out of ‘em. You were holding something back.”
“Yeah. So was your partner.” His mouth climbed up the side of his face, but he stayed quiet. “I got a guy calling me about my client. Hopefully any minute.” I checked my watch, 2:30.
“You know I’m gonna have to follow you wherever you head next.”
“Guess so.” I said, ducking into the Camino.
“We found that Nickelback album. For some reason it was stuck in a drawer way far away from all of the rest of the CDs.”
“Son of a bitch.” I pulled my head out of the car, rethinking my strategy. “We could carpool.”
Before Greer could say anything, my cell phone rang. I walked away from Detective Greer for a minute to take the call. I turned my back to him and the apartment. Bruce came through. Of course.
“So,” I said after I hung up the phone. “The car is registered to Aaron Masters. Here’s the address we’re given. Let’s take your car.”
“Aaron Masters. Name rings a bell.”
“That’d be because it’s the name of the man who is sitting in jail right now. For the murders of six people. Liked to strangle them and dress them up in t-shirts of classic rock bands.” I let it sit there in a minute. “Way I figure it, we’re either dealing with a copycat who is trying to pay homage to the original.”
“Or?” Chance spoke quickly.
“Or we get lucky and it’s just a guy with a somewhat common name and we put him down quick for this.”
“No way we’re that lucky.” Chance said pushing the car into gear and heading out toward the address. “So, you didn’t get a chance to interview him?”
“Wasn’t even a suspect when I was around, so I never had the pleasure. I’m thinking I’m not gonna get a chance to interview him now either.”
“What do you think? Another pizza parlor?”
“We're probably not that lucky either.”