“Right. No, he’s… in bed. Are you… Why did you…” Fuck my stupid head. My brain was muddled from the unexpected call and wasn’t processing properly. It was Heath. This wasn’t about Tallus. Of course it fucking wasn’t.
I got in the Jeep and set Tallus’s treats carefully aside before exhaling and pinching the bridge of my nose. “How can I help you, Heath?”
“Well, it just so happens that buddy of mine I was planning to go fishing with had to cancel. Since I already have the cabin booked for the weekend, I thought, what better time than this to teach you to fish and to get to know my son-in-law. Think you’d like to join me? It’sthe first weekend in April. We’d leave on the third, if possible, and get home late in the afternoon on the fifth.”
I opened my mouth to… What? Ask a question? Tell him he was crazy because I wasn’t the kind of person you invited on a fishing trip? Remind him that Tallus and I weren’t married? Confirm if he’d dialed the right number?
Son-in-law? Was that a dig? A compliment? I wasn’t… We weren’t…
“Diem? You still there?”
“Yes.” My voice came out small. “You want me to go fishing with you?”
“We talked about it.”
“Yeah, but… me?”
I pictured a serene lake. No people for miles. Absent city noise. Clear, smogless air. A blue sky overhead. Maybe a bird or two. The wind in the trees.
“Why the heck not? I think we need bonding time, you and me, and what better way to do it than on a quiet fishing trip.” Heath paused. Then, as though sensing my discomfort, added, “You can say no, son, but I’d love to take you.”
I had no idea how to respond. This wasn’t something I could decide on a whim. I could barely wrap my head around theson-in-lawpart, let alone the fact that this man, who called meson, wanted tobond.
With me.
For a weekend.
“C-can I think about it?”
“Of course. No pressure. If you don’t come, I’ll head up there myself, so take all the time you need.”
We said an awkward goodbye, and I sat in the running Jeep for a long, long time without pulling into traffic. An hour and a half atthe gym had grounded me. A five-minute phone call with Heath had upended my life.
Again.
***
Shadowy Solutions was, in essence, a shared business. Tallus’s name wasn’t technically listed as part owner, but I treated him as such. We divided cases according to our skill sets. Since he still worked for the police department a few days a week, I took the lion’s share. Some cases suited Tallus’s more social personality, while others landed in my wheelhouse.
After helping Oliver Hill, a prominent prosecuting attorney, with a few odd jobs over the winter, the lawyer had hired Tallus on a semi-permanent basis. The tasks involved a lot of side quests, including obtaining specific evidence for cases, researching backgrounds on witnesses the defense planned to call to uncover all the skeletons in their closets before trial, and authenticating certain details for whatever Hill had going on at the time.
It amounted to a lot of computer work, which was not Tallus’s favorite way of passing time, but he complained less. Facts were facts. Tallus excelled at that stuff. Plus, working for a lawyer required a lot of communication and tact, both of which I lacked. It paid well and had put our business on the map. We’d had calls from other lawyers to do similar work, and Tallus’s days at the office were usually packed.
As a result, I ended up with most of the infidelity cases. The grunt work. The long, lonely nights of surveillance. Following husbands or wives as they slinked out of their lovers’ beds and headed home. On occasion, I chased down bail jumpers or tracked people who skippedparole meetings. My size and ability to intimidate worked better in these situations.
I handled the more technical research jobs and picked up stray cases for corporate suits who wanted dirt on their employees and were willing to pay big bucks for me to dabble in the illegal side of things. I didn’t care about the ethics involved. The chances of getting caught or sued were slim, and if I didn’t do it, they’d find another PI who would.
It was rare that Tallus and I ended up working a case together. Elwood Scarrow and his unfortunate grandparent scheme was technically mine on paper, but I could tell Tallus was itching to join me at Evergreen to interview Marcy Daily, so when I requested his assistance, he eagerly accepted.
“Are you going to chat with Elwood’s bank?” Tallus asked as I pulled the Jeep into the lot at Evergreen, snagging the best spot in the visitor section near the front doors.
“They won’t talk to me. I’m not a cop, and I can’t get a warrant. Benaiah already explained that the account where the money was sent was shut down. Tracing it to its owner, if whoever set it up wasn’t careful, would require a lot of legal loophole jumping. Chances are, it was a mule account.”
“What’s that?” Tallus unbuckled his seatbelt as I grabbed Echo’s leash.
“A transfer point for illicit funds. Criminals layer accounts to wash money through them so it can’t be traced. It’s something on a level your cousin might investigate for the police, but even he would be hard-pressed to map it out or tag the person responsible. These people know how to disappear.”
“Sounds like a nightmare.”