“Octavia, I have some bad news about the mortgage. The bank has already taken possession, there’s no
way to reverse it. You’ll need to get everything out that you want in the next couple of weeks, before the
locks are changed. There’s a chance, of course, that you and Richard could buy it back once the dust settles.
Call me when you hear from him. He’s still not answering my calls. And, um...there’s still the matter of
settling my bill.”
Octavia deleted the message and closed her eyes.
Richard, where are you?
“Any news?” Linda asked.
Octavia looked over. “Nothing helpful.”
“Maybe Klo will have something.”
Octavia nodded, but as they wove through traffic, her apprehension grew. How much did she really
want to know about Richard? They had operated as two autonomous units for the better part of ten years.
Part of what made them work was allowing the other person to do what they did best...and trusting each
other.
She couldn’t have misread him all these years.
By the time they’d parked and walked into Sullivan’s investigation agency, she had convinced herself it
was a wasted exercise. The report would show Richard’s credit had cratered, but she already knew that. He
obviously hadn’t shared with her how much of a hit his firm had taken from the recession, but Richard
Habersham was the most straight-laced, uptight, borderline-OCD person she knew. If he was guilty of
anything, it was of having too much pride.
Yes...that was all.
They found Klo cleaning out files...and dressed just as inappropriately as before, Octavia noted. Did the
woman own a full-length mirror?
“What did you find?” she asked without preamble.
Klo’s expression gave away nothing. “Here’s everything.” She handed over a file folder with a half-inch
thick stack of papers inside. “You can sit at my desk,” she said, motioning to her chair.
Octavia accepted her offer, relieved when the two women walked away, engrossed in conversation
about the open cases, leaving her in relative privacy. Her heart was beating wildly when she opened the file.
But within a few minutes, it had come to a standstill.
Aside from maintaining bank accounts she didn’t know about at a bank she wasn’t familiar with, last
month Richard had bought a handgun.
A handgun? Was this the same man who couldn’t even kill his own lobster? The timing of the purchase
was too coincidental to ignore.
She had to hand it to Klo — the broad had certainly done her homework. She’d learned the sizable
amounts in the bank accounts had been emptied or closed, and the handgun was a 9 mm, whatever that
was.
Their home phone records for the past thirty days were listed, along with the name of the person or
business calling or being called. Nothing jumped out at her as being suspicious — there were calls from the
homeowner’s association and the lawn service, and from a cleaning supplies company she didn’t recognize.
Judging from the short length of the calls, they were either wrong numbers or telemarketers. As expected,
there were a few calls from her friends at the club — Joan Berman, Patsy Greenwald, Katie Lender, Renee
Masterson. And various calls from creditors, which she now understood.
But she hadn’t expected to find anything revealing because Richard conducted most of his personal and
professional business over his cell phone.
She almost flipped past the arrest and violations report — Richard was much too law-abiding to do
anything untoward, like get a DUI. Which is why she was surprised to see he’d received two unpaid
parking tickets in the past few months — proof that he’d had a lot on his mind if he’d allowed those to fall
through the cracks.
But it seemed that her meticulous husband had let a lot of things slide lately, including his hold on
sanity.
Octavia tried to breathe. While there was a certain amount of relief in knowing that Richard hadn’t been
kidnapped or worse, was it really better knowing he was AWOL somewhere living on cash he’d made from
selling their jewelry and art?
She would argue
no
.
Richard had obviously been planning his escape for a while. But she’d bet he hadn’t counted on his
wife breaking badass spy.
Octavia closed the file with a smack.
KLO HESITATED, her hand on the top file folder on the stack in front of her. “I don’t think this is a
good idea.”
“Yes, you said that already,” Octavia offered from the other side of the desk, rolling her hand. “Now
let’s move on.”
Linda looked back and forth between the two women. It was clear they could never work together on a
long-term basis. Since Octavia had gotten the background check on Richard yesterday, she’d been more
moody than usual. And Klo...well, Linda understood her concern.
“Closing out the open cases is best for everyone,” Linda cajoled. “The clients get what they want, and
the agency not only gets to keep the retainers, but can collect on the delivery money, too, once the job is
done.”
Klo looked unconvinced. “But the clients hired Sullivan.”
“Sullivan had help — you said yourself that you do the background checks and lots of other things, I’m
sure.”
Klo nodded.
“And he hired Stone sometimes.”
Another nod.
“So the only thing the clients need to know,” Octavia cut in, “is that someone on Sullivan’s staff is
taking over their case.”
Klo looked at her. “What do you know about investigating?”
“I know it’s pretty damn antiquated to be using paper files.”
“Why don’t we discuss the cases,” Linda suggested, “and then we can talk about the skills required to
finish the jobs.”
Klo and Octavia exchanged scowls, but Klo opened the top file folder.
“Case number 10356, Horizons Insurance Company.”
Linda found the file and opened it so she and Octavia could share. At the sight of Sullivan’s
handwriting, she choked up, but pinched herself on the back of her hand to stem the tears.
“A personal injury case and a worker’s compensation case,” Klo continued. “Basically, the company
doesn’t want to pay the claims if the employees aren’t as injured as they say they are.” She gave them a
pointed look. “They need proof of the people doing something they’re not supposed to be able to do, and
they need it fast — by next week. The personal injury case is on contingency — no money shot, no
money.”
“So we follow them until they do something suspicious, then video them or take a picture?” Linda
asked.
“That sounds easy,” Octavia said with a scoff.
“Don’t be so sure,” Klo said. “Some people are professionals at playing the injured party. And you can’t
invade their privacy to get the picture — it has to be admissible in court.”
“Does the agency have a camera with a zoom lens?” Octavia asked.
“Yes.”
“Then we got this,” she said with a dismissive wave. “Next?”
Klo frowned, then moved to the next file. “Case 10360, Pleasant Ridge Retirement Home.”
Linda swapped out the folder and scanned Sullivan’s notes. “They have a petty thief inside?”
“Er, not exactly,” Klo said. “More like an STD epidemic — gonorrhea, to be specific.”
“Excuse me?”
“Ew,” Octavia said. “I thought it was an old folks’ home.”
“Older people have sex,” Klo said.
Octavia angled her head. “You
do
?”
“What,” Linda interjected while throwing Octavia a stern look, “does the client want, exactly?”
“The owner wants to quietly find patient zero and nip the epidemic in the bud before word gets out to
the public.”
“How are we supposed to do that?” Octavia asked.
“You’re the one who wants to play investigator,” Klo said sweetly.
“We’ll figure it out,” Linda assured them. “What else?”
“Case number 10363, Better Now Convenience Store. The owner thinks one or more of his employees
are stealing from him. He needs proof.”
A sheet of paper in the file showed the front of the store and a couple of clerks posing for the picture
wearing red and yellow striped smocks. “One of us will have to go undercover,” Linda asked, then looked
at Octavia. “That’ll have to be you since I have the vending machine route.”
“As long as I don’t have to wear that getup.”
Klo suddenly looked cheery. “You do, and I’ll work out all the details with the owner.”
“Meanwhile,” Linda said before things got dicey, “Octavia and I have to get going — we’ll brainstorm
on how we’re going to handle the cases.”
“I’ll be ready in a second,” Octavia said, then excused herself to the bathroom.
Klo glanced after her. When the door closed, she looked back to Linda. “Your sister is...interesting.”
Linda laughed. “That’s putting it mildly. She’s having a rough go of things right now.”
“And you’re not?”
“Yes, of course, but...Octavia is a little less equipped to deal with life’s setbacks.”
“I hope the background check answered some of her questions?”
“Yes...and raised new ones.”
“As is often the case. She’s staying with you and the kids for a while?”
“So it seems,” Linda said wryly. “It’s been bumpy, but I think it’s the distraction the kids and I need
right now.”
“How are the kids?”
She sighed. “They seem to be fine. I talked to their teachers and they haven’t noticed any problems.
Maggie asks about her dad a lot, is curious about death and heaven. Jarrod is so quiet, it’s hard to tell. I
think we’re all still so bewildered.” When she felt the tears coming on again, she forced a smile. “We’re
muddling through.” Then she waved vaguely in the air. “How about things around here?”
“I’m purging files and generally ramping down. Goodwill is going to pick up the office furniture at the
end of the month. I’ll have some forms for you to sign tomorrow, to close down the business license and
the rental agreement on the few pieces of computer equipment we have.” She wore a pained expression.
“And there are some banking issues to discuss.”
Linda’s stomach dropped. “Okay. I’ll stop by around lunch time.”
The woman hesitated, then added, “I’m sure there are some personal things in Sullivan’s desk — ”
“I’ll get to that soon,” Linda promised.
Klo nodded, then gestured to the folders Linda held. “By the way, do you have an extra file? I might’ve
accidentally given you the case folder I’m supposed to send to the D.A.’s office. It’s labeled ‘Foxtrot.’ ”
Linda checked to make sure the file hadn’t inadvertently been mixed in with the others. “No.”
“That’s odd...I’ve searched every inch of the office and can’t find it anywhere.”
Linda darted a glance to Sullivan’s closed office door. “Did you check Sullivan’s briefcase?”
“Yes, and his desk.”
“How about the car he was leasing?”
“I took everything out of it before the dealership picked it up.”
“When was the last time you saw the folder?”
“When I first set up the case file. I hate to admit it, but Octavia is right — we should’ve had our files
automated, but Sullivan was very old school, said digital files were too easy for other investigators to hack
into. Did he keep any files at home?”
Linda thought of the utter chaos of their house, with building supplies stacked everywhere and her
furniture displaced. “No. We were hoping to put an office for him in the den when the renovations were
complete.” Her throat tightened.
“Don’t worry,” Klo soothed. “The file will turn up somewhere.”
“What did the case concern?”
“I don’t know — Sullivan wouldn’t tell me anything about it.”
“That’s unusual, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but I assumed A.D.A. Houston had insisted on confidentiality. I didn’t push.”
Octavia emerged from the restroom, her eyes suspiciously red. Poor Octavia — the day had been one
pride-swallowing task after another, from sharing a bathroom at home to counting dirty nickels from the
vending machine change buckets.
“Ready?” her sister asked.
Linda felt another pang of sympathy for Octavia, all dressed up in Gucci, but nowhere to go. “Yes.”
Linda turned to Klo. “I’ll let you know if I find the file.”
“I’m sure it’s here somewhere, just misplaced in the shuffle. See you tomorrow.”
She followed Octavia out into the parking lot and headed toward the minivan. From the sidewalk in
front of the pawn shop, Grim Hollister called hello. Linda returned his greeting, but Octavia continued
walking rapidly, as if she didn’t want anyone to see her at the shabby strip mall.
“Do you mind driving?” Linda asked. “I need to fill out accounting reports before we make our rounds
in the morning.”
Octavia opened her mouth and Linda expected her to say once again that she didn’t drive minivans.
Instead she conjured up a smile and held out her hand for the keys. “What file is Klo missing?”
“The case file she’s supposed to send to the D.A.’s office.”
“Is it a big hairy deal?”
Linda smiled as they climbed inside. “Sounds like it. I knew Sullivan was working on an important