Part 6

"What do you mean by you think he's dead? Go see the doctor," I urged Boma

"He is, I'm sure. I'm sorry, I just can't believe it."

"I'm on my way."

There really wasn't much I could do when I got there except try to comfort his weeping mother and promise to visit. Turns out it was a hit and run.

I mean, I understand human beings have a flight or fight response, but people should accept the consequences of their actions.

And the timing?!!!

There's just something spooky about all of this, and I need to figure it out before I lose my mind. So much has happened today that I almost don't want to go to work tomorrow, but what choice do I have?

I only want to cuddle up to Kefe and be grateful for what I have.

My sweet husband understands.

..........

My paranoia is acting up again, so I call Jibade and ask for a private detective. Someone good and discrete.

I want to tell Kefe, but I'm not sure I'm in the mood for his psychoanalysis. I can't tell Boma how I feel because I know she cares too much, and I don't want her to worry about what could possibly be delusions of grief and one of my conspiracy theories. Jibade is the same, but he will indulge me anyway, so I call him.

Oh!!! Jibade is the best, he knows a guy, except his guy, is peculiar.

An eccentric if I must label him.

He doesn't like to meet his clients, which includes me.

He sets drop- off locations.

Like in those Clive Owen and Tom Cruise spy movies with unmarked envelopes and bills, it did make me feel a lot excited and a little exasperated. All I had to do was drop off an envelope containing Andrew's information and what I wanted him to focus on at a hotel reception of his choice and tip the receptionist. I felt like I could be Angelina Jolie, except she definitely won't be as clumsy and inexperienced as me.

I am very embarrassed to say that I wasn't as sleek as I imagined I would be, I didn't even know what to say when the receptionist asked me If I wanted a room.

What was I to say?

"I'm here for a covert mission to drop off an important missive for a private detective I have never seen before???"

Pfft!!!!

The receptionist kept looking at me weirdly, so I had to take a breath and compose myself. I handed him the brown envelope I had already taken out of my bag with some cash under.

"I'm here to drop off a delivery for Mr. Bond," I snicker as I repeat the name.

You definitely heard right, Bond as in James Bond.

...........

When Jibade told me that his eccentric guy liked to be called Mr. Bond, I nearly fell over the chair because I thought it was Jibade's way of trying to cheer me up, but when I was done laughing, Jibade still had on a serious face.

"Seriously, Uju, if you don't address him by Mr. Bond in your conversations, he won't take the job."

I started laughing again.

I just couldn't. I still can't

"Jibade, how did you even meet this guy? Are you sure I should not be recommending Kefe to him?. Is he for real??"

"Uju trust me he is good; he's helping me out with finding Jumoke's killers."

"I'm so sorry, Jibade. How is that going?" I remembered that it hasn't been that long since she was killed

" I gave him a list of my possible enemies. You would not believe the things he uncovered about some of them. It's just none of it has anything to do with Jumoke, so I'm not so interested."

I guess that's how Jibade convinced me of his sanity, but anytime I have to think of his name, I still laugh, which is why it is so hard to comport myself right now.

As I walk out of the hotel, I can't help but feel proud of how easy it was to compose myself after I got over the nerves.

This was fun.

What wasn't fun was having to keep this secret from my husband for a whole week. I couldn't even laugh with him about the name, and Jibade is a spoilsport. Keeping it from Boma was easy. I wish I felt a little bad about that.

I just don't want to see their gloating faces when it turns out there's nothing suspicious about Andrew's death. I guess I have had time to think about it, and I realize that calling a private detective might have been too extreme, but there's this feeling I can't shake off, so I just let Mr. Bond do his business.

Pfft hahaha

I still can't take it

Anyways, the wait is over, all I have to do is get my package and send him the money. I felt a lot more confident when I walked up to the receptionist.

It's a different one. A she

Well, I don't think that changes anything.

" Hi, I have a package here from Mr. Bond."

She smiled at me and winked.

Why is she winking at me?

I'm obviously going to give her a tip.

Is she trying to hint at something ?? Maybe I should give her more money and leave as soon as possible.

"Yes ma, here it is"

I collected it and gave her a tip before driving home.

I think it's better to open it at home where I can behave as appropriate. I'm too damn curious, so it's the first thing I do as soon as I get home and take off my shoes.

Yes, my shoes have to come off first.

As I read through the papers and look through the pictures,

My smile and my blood run cold.