The Manifest

Chapter 2

     It always started early in the morning when the alarm went off beside his bed, and habitually ended when he parked in his usual spot right outside the building where he worked. As always, he would resist that urge to hit the snooze for a fifth time and begrudgingly hit the showers. Then he'd fight the craving to get off the highway several times, to avoid driving himself to work. Each exit closer was a greater struggle, but he carried on. Now, parked before the building where he made his living, the inner conflict returned; he was fully aware of what he had to do. Deep down inside he wanted to go back home, veg on the couch with Meredith and make fun of her soaps while she tried to watch them, munching loudly on cheesy puffs. Yet today that was not an option, and he knew it. Not when Tuck had a few new clients coming in to plead their case and barter them down to a good price for their services.

     Being a private investigator wasn't the most glamorous job these days, but he knew it paid the bills. And no one in his work place was better at squeezing a client for every penny they could get, so it was essential that he be present for these meetings. Even though Edgar Willis was very good at what he did, that didn't mean he always enjoyed his work. He was just like everyone else: one miracle lottery ticket away from retirement, and this mundane job was the fall back plan. Things could always been worse, he thought to himself. At least he still wasn't on the force. If he were, then he would definitely be late and likely to get another rip from the staff sergeant. That was one thing he didn't miss since leaving the force; those early morning rants from that fat, donut munching bastards that hadn't seen the street in years. He often wanted to punch those ignorant sergeants in the nose, which instigated his desire to make detective as quickly as he possibly could, but that only led to more political bullshit rather than less, and that's what caused him to eventually burn out and quit.

     Deep down Edgar liked the force and even missed it sometimes, but then he's remember all the politics and ass kissing and those feelings would fade. He was envious of his Dad and the times he had served the people. The bullshit wasn't as obvious, and it made ignorance truly worthy of being considered blissful. Today that bullshit was in your face too much to be ignored, as party lines were clearly drawn in the sand. People were being forced to pick sides, even though black and white never really worked that well in a high definition world. Working privately gave him the freedom he'd never had on the force. In Washington D.C., the capital of all things political, it was easy for a PI to flourish and make a good penny. There were always politicians, lobbyists and other layers of scum in the city that wanted him to do their dirty work. While he had the power to dictate what did or did not qualify as a good job, the money made some of the jobs easier to tolerate.

     Thinking of those bills and all the alimony he still had to keep shelling out was more than enough to make Edgar think better of his potential day off and get out of the car. He was only a robust thirty-eight, but still managed to give a deep huff as he heaved himself out of the car. Being behind the desk had made him a little lazy but it was what he did now. He had his own people to do the grunt work now that he and his partner were in charge of operations. That didn't mean he wasn't willing to do a little grunt work, but he got to pick which he felt like doing and delegate whatever bull he wanted to avoid.

     It was sunny outside and the day was looking to be a scorcher, so Edgar showed up for work wearing only a casual dress shirt and some beige colored trousers. He had a jacket but carried in with him as it was too hot to wear. He had no intention of going into the field today and would be content to rest in the cool confines of his air-conditioned office. Today was going to be a typical Monday: talk to a few potential clients, listen to them and their lame stories, and then decide if any of them were capable of financing the operations they were demanding out of them. Only those close to him knew that he had an uncanny ability to tell which ones were going to be able to pay up and which ones were going make the effort to stiff them. This led to good business deals as Edgar's people never questioned his instincts, because they all liked having a payday every now and then. His gut was the deal breaker when it came to any business transaction, and he learned a long time ago to never question his gut. If he wasn't feeling right about any job, it just didn't happen. Period.