Chapter 6 Goat beard and the Mustache

“Alex Cook, Private Eye. Son to one of the Army’s most notorious generals. Brother to Lee..Lii…Lee Cook The World’s best gamer. Brother Also to Debbie Cook whose endless research, quick camera snaps, and a can-do attitude has made her a big name in Journalism. Lastly, Brother to Laura Cook, self made millionaire and perhaps the first and last word in Art- and horsies. He was the guardian to all these people and yet was currently having problems turning on the TV,” Alex Cook narrated to himself. Finally after a good hour or so, Alex finally resigned himself to the fact that the taggle-vision was never going to turn on and went to get ice to store some Dr. Pepper in.
“But how did the brave Alex Cook get into such a cushy hotel?” Alex asked the world as he walked down the hallway daring someone to answer. A small child who was walking towards him promptly ran the other way and the sight of the muttering Alex. “Well it was simple. Denis hacked into the Tag-net accounts and took one credit from 85 people and placed them in a new account that she had created. Once in the new account they were changed the credits value and tag ID so they looked genuine if someone really examined the trace closely. Then Alex just used his credit card and BAM, he had a hotel room. Identity theft, it’s a br-,” Alex was cut off by a sweet looking red mustang out the window. Admittedly it had some rust patches and some wear and tear, but Alex was firm in his belief that all red mustangs looked sweet. Inside he saw a man with a very prominent bushy grey mustache. Alex stared at the man admiring not only the car, but also the ostentatious mustache the man was styling. He himself could only grow a few little beard hairs that looked rather a lot like a red goat beard. He turned away, proud to be in the same hotel as someone with a mustang AND a mustache. After filling up on ice and returning to his room, Alex decided to tackle the TV issue once and for. He reached for the phone and dial ‘0’ for the front desk.
“Hello?” The woman working the desk answered.

“A voice answered, barely discernable as male,” Alex said to himself.

“Er, Hello?”

“’Hello sir. I seem to be having trouble operating my TV’ I said to the man as politely as I could,” Commented Alex.

“That’s too bad sir!” the woman barked into the phone, her voice lowering in anger.
Click.
“Wow that guy has issues,” explained Alex to Denise who was now safely in his leg. “Well I was hoping to get some Buffy the Next Generation in before hitting the hay, but I guess it's snooze time. Good night Denise,” with that Alex drifted off into a deep sleep.

Morning came. As he lazily walked from his bed to his bathroom, Alex scratched himself in a less then polite manner. A quick bladder drain, a shower (the first one in weeks), and a Dr. Pepper, Alex loaded up and was ready to go. As he climbed in his van Alex took Denise out.
“Recall the course to D.C. Denise,” Alex said groggily.
“Denise, isn’t that the mustang I saw last night in the hall way?” Alex inquired after they got on the highway.
Denise replied with “Exit on the right.” Alex listened and took the exit much too late. He swerved into it, almost crashing another car. After a while of driving through a tiny little town Denise told him to get back on the Highway. When he re-emerged he found himself a few cars behind the mustang.
“Denise?” he asked. “What was that all about? We are exactly where we were when we started.”
“Just follow that mustang Alex,” she answered. “I did a quick scan on that car’s plates, it's registered to a Mr. Tulls, who happens to be employed by your mother. As a gardener.”
Alex listened.
“For a long time everything was going well, when the worst happened. I finished my last Dr. Pepper, and my bladder started to feel full again,” The P.I. said to himself. “However though the task was daunting and the stakes dire, I resolved not to stop for more drinks or potty break until I felt I followed long enough.”
The two cars kept moving forward down the highway with no change in pace.
“Oh yes, it required some quick maneuvering, but I managed to stay on his tale this long.”
The two cars just kept going straight.
“Some of the nearby passengers were surely impressed with my driving skills.”
I n the next lane a little girl ran her tongue out at Alex.
“The driving went on for hours, my bladder very sore.” Narrated Alex. He had been driving long enough to play more rounds of ‘ghost’ with Denise then he could count. She always won. As the day wore on Alex could feel the pain in his stomach worsening.
By nightfall Alex was reaching the outskirts of D.C. the two cars, bright red mustang and large van, drove inconspicuously through the streets. After Alex decided he had followed the mustang long enough. He had to check on his parents now. He could find out about Tulls later. Well Denise could.

As he pulled up next to the home his parents occupied, Alex placed Denise back in his leg. He decided to park in the alleyway in the back, in case of a quick get away. Slowly he walked to the back door and walked in. The door opened to a sun room. A nice cozy little room. The walls were decorated with a yellowish paint. It was very reminiscent of pop-corn. As he reached the kitchen, a large orange room, he saw a pile of papers on the island. Moving closer Alex noted that one of the envelopes wasn’t open. It was completely blank. Alex opened the envelope and removed the paper inside. It was covered in odd symbols.
“Denise, what language is this?” He asked.

“It appears to be Aztec and some form of Chinese. I cannot translate it.”

“Okay. That’s good and useless. Probably to some of dad’s foreign friends.”

Continuing to prod his way around, Alex began to suspect he wasn’t going to find anything here. When he turned the corner however he saw something that made his stomach turn. The dead body of middle aged man wearing shorts, sun hat, and gardening gloves was lying on the ground.
“It wasn’t the first dead body I’ve seen.” Narrated the repulsed Alex. It was true. He had seen one during his war time. He continued with “and it sure as hell won’t be the last.” This might not have been true. Alex was just taking a wild guess for the sake of his narration.
“Alex? I don’t think Mr. Tulls was in that mustang earlier,” said Denise. “We should get out of here.”
“I couldn’t have agreed with her more. First though, I needed to take care of some business.”
Alex ran to the bathroom as fast as he could, and he took care of business.
Before he knew it he was back in the van looking for another hotel. When he finally found one he was so tired that he didn’t notice a custodian walking down the hall by his room with a very grey mustache.
-Lee C. Cook