A Sleuthed sleuth
By: 4Ever Gonzo



It was nothing unusual, but getting that phone call at
3:15 a.m. was getting no easier for Trisha Abel. The
12-year veteran private investigator had made a name
for herself in the city of Vancouver, Canada. Whenever
a wife suspected her husband of cheating, or whenever
a husband wondered why his wife came home at 2 a.m.
smelling of wine, Abel often got the phone call with
the same sob beginning.

“I’m sorry for calling so late, but I’ve had enough of
this endless wondering.”

It hardly ever changed. However, she never questioned
her profession, nor did she have any regrets. She was
never the type to work the 9-5 job and she didn’t
quite take to any manual labour. She was more of the
curious, inquisitive type, one who never had many
friends in school because she was the snoopy one, the
one who always medalled in everybody’s business. 
It should come as no surprise that she lived alone and
worked alone. She took great pride in solving whatever
case came her way and she rarely turned any case down.

So when Paul Workman contacted her at 3:15 a.m. on a
rainy Monday morning and gave Abel the particulars
about his problem, she asked that he meet her at her
apartment the next day. 
Workman explained that his wife Deb had changed in the
past month and hasn’t been the fun-loving, caring
mother that she once was. Paul suspected drugs could
be the problem, but when he secretly reviewed her
bankbook, he noticed little to no change. He wondered
if she was seeing someone else and that’s why he came
to Abel. 

She took the case, as if there was any doubt and took
to the streets right away. 

Deb’s profile resembled a boxer, which wasn’t strange
as she attended tae kwon do classes to stay fit. Paul
said she rarely competed because she wasn’t the
violent or combative type. She was 5’10, a fairly tall
girl and weighed in at a solid 140 pounds. 

Trisha wondered if steroids were a factor, which would
explain the change in attitude. 

It was time to find out the truth so Trisha drove her
1996 Civic to Spirit Tae Kwon Do at 5:45 p.m., 15
minutes before Deb’s class ended. 

At 6:10 she walked out, wearing sweats and a hoody.
She wasn’t driving…didn’t have to. She simply walked
two blocks to the local gym. Trisha quickly drove home
to grab some clothes, she wanted to keep an eye on
Deb, wanted to watch her every move. 

She stuffed her pink sweat pants and white Everlast
shirt and stuffed it into a bag and quickly drove back
to the gym. She paid her non-membership fee and hit
the change room where Deb was still changing.
“What could she still be doing here? Why isn’t she
working out yet?” Trisha wondered. 

Trisha quickly changed and walked and was making her
way to the gym when Deb enquired about the Everlast
shirt.

“Everlast huh. Do you box?”

The question caught Trisha off guard but she wasn’t
going to loose her cool.

“A little,” she said calmly. “I decided a girl has to
learn to protect herself so I figured boxing would be
a good place to start. You look like you know how to
throw a punch, how long have you been boxing?”
Trisha was proud of the answer. She knew she sounded
confident and her question left room for more
conversation.

“I’ve been in tae kwon do for four years and I’ve been
boxing here for the past two,” replied Deb.

The answer surprised Trisha, who was told by Paul that
his wife didn’t engage in physical combat.

“My husband doesn’t know that…he’d go crazy if he knew
I competed. I could teach you some basics if you’d
like…what do you think?

Trisha thought about it, knowing full well she’d
accept the offer.

“Sure, why not? A few tips from a pro couldn’t hurt.”
So the two stretched as Deb verbally gave pointers as
two men sparred in the ring. 

“Wait right here,” said Deb, who walked to the front
desk. 

After chatting with the receptionist, Deb returned
with a key.

“Follow me.”

Deb led Trisha to the back where she unlocked a door
and stepped inside and flicked a switch. There was a
small room with about 50 seats and rubber mats on the
floor.  

“High school wrestlers train here but they don’t come
on Tuesday nights,” said Deb. “If we wait to use the
ring…we could be here for hours. Why don’t you go over
to that corner and put on your head gear.”
Trisha turned to walk to the corner and fiddled with
the headgear. A stool was hanging on the wall so she
took it down and placed it on the ground away from the
red mat. 

She sat down and saw Deb standing in her corner
wearing tiny boxing gloves with no headgear.

“Your equipment is a lot smaller than mine,” said
Trisha with a giggle.

However, Deb didn’t crack a smile.

“I was just joking…I was talking about your gloves.
How do you tie these anyway?”

Deb let out an irritated sigh, removed her gloves and
walked to Trisha’s corner.

Trisha quickly realized how Deb’s attitude changes,
just like Paul mentioned. 

“Like this.”

Deb tied Trisha’s gloves really tight, causing Trisha
to wince in pain.

“That’s a bit tight…can you loosen them.”

Just like that Deb snapped. 

“Why don’t you tie your own gloves bitch!”
Before Trisha could reply, Deb connected with a
roundhouse kick that caught Trisha square in the
cheek, which sent her headgear flying. The P.I spun
off her stool, landed on her stomach with her hands to
her side. 

Her instincts quickly came back to her and she got to
her knees and glanced to see Deb standing over her.
Trisha backed the bigger girl off with a quick elbow
to Deb’s inner thigh and got to her feet. 

“What the hell was that? When was kicking allow…”

Before she got a chance to finish Deb landed an
uppercut blow to Trisha’s ribcage that sent her down
to her knees. Fighting to breath and seeing nothing
but the red mat beneath her, Trisha felt like a
wrecking ball struck her. 

That’s when Deb grabbed her by the hair and hit
another roundhouse kick that connected in same spot as
the uppercut. 

Trisha, who was already winded, let out a deep
MMMMPHHH, as air and spit escaped her mouth. Her legs
went limp and she went crashing to the mat yet again.
This time, however, there was no thought. She was
knocked unconscious. 

Minutes later she woke, coughing violently with a pool
of drool next to her mouth and a line of white drool
slowly sliding down her chin. She staggered to her
feet…turned to face the door where she saw two blurred
objects. 

“Who are you…can you help me out of here?” She managed
to say.

As the objects walked closer, she was astonished to
see both Paul and Deb.

“You little bitch,” laughed Deb. “You always thought
you were so cool getting in everybody’s business in
high school. Now it’s payback time.”

“But…Paul…You…Yo…”

And then it began…the beating that ended Trisha’s
sleuthing career. 

Paul held Trisha’s arms behind her back. Her legs were
still wobbly but Paul held her up. 

“Look up pig…look at what’s coming.”

Trisha forced her head up, but could barely see with
her long black hair hanging in front of her eyes. 
She did, however, see the gray hoody of Deb. 
“How’s that stomach?” Asked Deb with a grin. 
And with that Deb started landing jab after stiff jab
to Trisha’s navel. Her body bounced back after every
punch and again she was loosing breath. Deb stopped
and pulled back Trisha’s hair to see the P.I bug eyed
and wide-mouthed as she tried to catch some air.
“What’s the matter…out of breath?” Laughed Deb.
As Trisha looked on, out of breath and defenceless,
Deb landed a knee to the navel. Trisha, who was
already out of breath, was only standing because of
Paul. 

Her eyes started to roll in the back of her head and
she stood limp. 

“Let her drop,” ordered Deb.

She landed face first and her body convulsed from the
sudden impact. 

“Oh, don’t worry Trisha, it’ll be all over soon,” said
Paul. 

Paul grabbed one of Trisha’s legs and violently tossed
the limp sleuth unto her back. Trisha suddenly began
to come to but couldn’t move her arms. She looked up
to see Deb kneeling on them.

“It’s all over for you sweetheart,” said Deb who
looked at Paul. 

Trisha looked to see Paul carrying a medicine ball.

“No…please…no…” whispered Trisha.

“What’s that? Did you say something? If you want us to
stop, just say so,” replied Deb.

However, Trisha couldn’t muster the strength to say
anything aloud, she was just getting her breath back. 
Paul stood over Trisha’s beaten body with the medicine
ball. Trisha looked up, waiting for the unthinkable to
happen when Deb grabbed her by the throat and started
to squeeze. 

Trisha went frantic. She kicked her legs, even
striking Paul in the groin, which made him leap away
in agony. It didn’t matter. She would never fight the
two of them off. Deb squeezed and Trisha’s kicking
legs and clawing hands could do nothing. 
She was losing. She stared at Deb who continued to
choke the life out of her body. The sleuth was
tricked.

Suddenly Trisha’s legs kicked no more, except for the
last few convulsions. Her tongue hung from the side of
her mouth and for good measure, Deb applied the
mandible claw. This pressure made Trisha gurgle
silently. With Deb’s fingers still dug deep down and
around Trisha’s throat, Paul dropped the medicine ball
on the P.I’s stomach. 

Nothing…not even a jerk of the body. 

With that the couple stood hand-in-hand and looked
down at Trisha. They smiled and laughed as Trisha’s
tongue hung from her mouth.  She was completely unconscious.

No more would Trisha ever get involved in somebody
else’s business. 


END