Dylan
IHAD JUST closed myself in my room when my cell phone rang. I snagged it off the nightstand and checked the display. Dad. I couldn’t deal with him right now. Jake and Addison had broken up and my possibility of a future with Asher was looking grim. Addison and I had finished off a bottle of wine and a pint of ice cream, and now I felt worse, not better.
Deciding I might as well go forbroke, I accepted the call. “Hey, Dad.”
When my dad was sober he was a decent guy, but he was rarely sober.
“Hey princess.” He didn’t slur his words, but that didn’t mean anything. Dad put the ‘F’ in functional alcoholic. “How’s the new business going?”
“Good. Addie and I closed our first case today.”
The one whiff of potpourri in this otherwise shitty day came somewhere between Jake’shasty exit, Asher’s announcement that he’d talk to us when he cooled off, and our ice cream and wine binge. We uploaded the video footage from the club and sent the link to Ethan, who in turn contacted Greg the cheater. I don’t know if it was the mention of video evidence or the sight of the biker revolt, but Greg had been scared straight. He made promises to go to marriage counseling and call itquits with his home-wrecking coworker and his strip club attraction.
Addison and I both had our doubts that Greg had changed his cheating ways, but we’d done our job and were getting paid, so we’d washed our hands of that mess.
“I’m not surprised,” he replied. “I bet you two have everything you need up there to do your job. Those Allens are handed everything on a goddamn silver platter, afterall.”
Dad had never been a fan of my friendship with Addison, and I shuddered to think of what he’d say if he knew about my and Asher’s pending relationship status. He didn’t trust rich people, and he wanted nothing more than for me to pack my bags, say good-bye to city life, and return to the town I’d grown up in. I couldn’t understand why Dad would want me to move back, when we could barelymaintain civil tones for a five-minute phone conversation.
And I wasn’t going to let him throw backhanded compliments at the Allens. “Their platters are actually platinum, Dad. Silver’s not worth much anymore.”
I could almost hear him shaking his head on the other end of the line.
Tired of waiting for him to come up with a witty retort, I got down to business. “What’d you call for?”
“A recommendation,actually. You know we don’t have any private investigators in town, but there’s been some theft happening lately.”
My ears perked up. “What kind of theft?”
“Nothing too serious, but some of the seniors have reported missing jewelry.”
“Seniors? As in Grandma?” I asked.
He sighed. “Yeah, your grandma is one of them. She claims someone snuck into her room down at the old folks’ home and tooksome rings and necklaces and shit.”
My grandma and I weren’t close. My dad was Grandma’s baby and she worshiped the ground he walked on. She’d never forgiven my mother for taking him away from her. And since I was the spitting image of Mom, that’s who Grandma saw when she looked at me. Regardless, the idea of someone breaking into her room and stealing her jewelry ruffled my feathers. It tooka special kind of evil to steal from old folks.
