Very good, in fact.
But still casual. Still nothing to get serious about.
I rolled out of bed and scampered to the bathroom. I wasn’t that hungover since I hadn’t had that much to drink the night before. I just felt hungover for non-alcoholic reasons. My body was worn and tired, my mind blurred with memories from the night before. I could still almost hear the heavy breathing and the moans of pleasure. Nothing a scalding hot shower couldn’t banish.
I still had work to do, after all. I needed to compile all the damning evidence against Trey and hand it to Daniel today. Then I would get another case. A better case. There was a small twinge of regret when I pictured closing this case. I had been enjoying this particular job. Or at least one part of this particular job.
After the shower, I tugged on my usual outfit for a day at the office; loose jeans and a comfortable T-shirt with some ballet flats. I clipped a chunk of my hair out of my face and fixed myself a breakfast consisting of a muffin and some coffee.
As I chewed my muffin, I decided that I had zero regrets. The night before had been a fun spur-of-the-moment dalliance, but it was a one-time thing. I didn’t want to waste any time seeing Pin only to realize that he, like every other guy, was boring and predictable. Underneath the biker leather and the cute smile, could he really be that different?
I needed to focus on my job. If I wanted Daniel to give me better cases, I needed to bring my A-game and advocate for myself. I didn’t want to be stuck trailing dumb corporate cheaters for the rest of my days.
If a juicier case came into the firm, and Daniel was busy with something else, he would usually hand it off to Veronica. It made sense. She was my senior and had way more experience than I did. But if I kept finishing up my cheating husband cases as quickly as I could, at some point, Daniel would have to give me a bigger case. Veronica would be tied up, and he would pass the ball to me.
And I would be ready when that time came.
I had to be ready, because I was pretty sure parts of my brain were withering away with every idiot husband I had to track down. I wanted something complex. I wanted twisted motives and dead ends. I wanted the whole bulletin board with a series of photos and notes.
That’s why people get into my line of work in the first place. Ask any private investigator, or even a homicide detective, it’s not a totally altruistic career. There’s this thrill you get when you’re chasing something truly elusive. It’s almost like an adrenaline high where you can’t think of anything else. The mystery of the case consumes you.
I got it a few years back when I tag-teamed an old murder case with Veronica. The guy had died a few years ago so the police had put it aside, but the family was desperate for closure. And unlike the police, private investigators don’t have to play by the rules. When Veronica and I caught the scent of the killer, it was amazing. It was the feeling I’d been chasing my whole life.
Yeah, you’re also doing it for the people who have been hurt or are missing it. For justice. But when it comes to the thrill of the hunt, you’re being selfish. Pin had been incredible, I wouldn’t deny that. But when it came to long-term satisfaction, there was no way he could compete with a big case. I wasn’t going to let him distract me.
Thirty minutes later, I walked into the office with a spring in my step. I had beaten Veronica and Daniel in, which was fine by me. I sat down at my desk and started putting together everything Olivia Cook would need to get rid of Trey.
An hour later, I was done. I had all the messages between Trey and Kim, all the photos, plus my own notes and observations. Veronica had arrived by that point and flashed me a smile when I pushed away from my desk with a sigh.
“All done?” she asked.
“Trey Cook is officially screwed,” I said.
“Unless the wife gets all sentimental,” Veronica said.
It happened sometimes. A wife would see all the evidence, her heart would break, but she wouldn’t leave him. He would make some empty promises (probably to get out of paying alimony) and she would choose to believe them. She would close her eyes and tell herself that it wouldn’t happen again. He had changed.
It’s not fun, but it’s not really my problem. I can’t tell people how to live their lives.
I glanced down at the photo of Olivia atop my file, and I prayed she had a backbone. Then I waltzed into Daniel’s office and tossed the notes onto his desk with a satisfying thunk.
“Finished this already?” he asked.
“Yup,” I said.
Daniel leaned back in his chair and regarded me with a wary expression. “Careful, Brennan. A cocky PI makes mistakes.”
“I’m not cocky,” I said with a saucy grin. “I’m just fast.”
He chuckled and leafed through the notes. I knew he wouldn’t find anything fishy. There were no cut corners, no sloppy work. I had crossed my t’s and dotted my i’s.
Daniel tapped his finger on a page of my typed notes. “The mistress Kimberly Delasante. She’s the one that’s tied to the biker club.”
“Yeah,” I said. I had kept Daniel appraised of my plan with the case, including my alliance with Kim. “The Outlaw Souls.”
“And you were friendly with her?” he asked.
“I guess,” I said. “She came through last night anyway.”
