“What’s your poison, Morty? Would you like a beer?”
Morty shook the water droplets from his limp hair. “You’re buying, right?”
“That was the deal.”
“In that case, I’ll have a Michelob.”
“Sure thing.” Dane got up and asked the bartender for the beer. He brought it back and set it in front of Morty.
Morty took a long sip and let out a satisfied sigh. “My wife only lets me drink light beer. This was real nice of you, Mr. Russ.”
“It’s Dane.” Why did people think they needed to kowtow to him like servants all the time? “So Morty, the reason I asked you here was quite simple.”
“Oh, there’s more?”
Did the guy really think this was a social outing? “I’m aware that you’re being paid to follow me.” He wasn’t completely sure, but Noelle had indicated she’d planned to use the auditor. And the auditor was Morty. It stood to reason.
Morty tried his best to feign ignorance, but his eyes shifted around when he said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Look, Morty. I know. I can go and let it be known you were caught.”
He sat up straighter. “No. You can’t tell them. They’d stop paying me.”
“Them?” That took Dane by surprise. “You were hired by Noelle Constance, right?”
“Y-yeah. Right. Just Miss Constance.”
Dane rubbed his chin. Who else would have hired him? And why? “So if I go tell Val Montgomery you were found out, she would—”
Morty’s eyes went wide. “No, please. Don’t. I’ll stop following you. I promise.”
“I don’t want you to stop following me, Morty. In fact, I’m going to help you out. How much are you making every time you tail me?”
“Now, I’m making one-fifty. Miss Constance would only pay me half of what Miss Montgomery offered.” He frowned, nursing an ill-founded grudge.
“For the job you were already doing?”
“Yeah. But she doesn’t know it.”
“I’m going to pay you two hundred.”
“You’re going to pay me to follow you, too? Forgive me, but why?”
“Morty, you’re going to report back some amazingly glowing things about me. Would you like to start tonight? I have an hour free, and I thought I might visit an old folks’ home or maybe an animal shelter.”
“Clever, sir. But can it wait? My wife is waiting for me at home, and I have to clear it with her before I stay out past seven.”
Dane bit back a smile. His spy wasn’t allowed out at night? He wished he’d known that earlier in the week. “She wouldn’t clear it for you to earn five hundred dollars in an evening?”
“When you put it that way . . . I’ll give her a call.”
Val opened the door to a soaking wet Dane. She kept discovering new favorite versions of him. She let him in and led him back to the drawing room. She hadn’t seen him looking so relaxed in ages.
He slipped out of his suit coat and sat in a chair, laughing. “I had to come over and tell you about my crazy night.”
“Okay. Would you like a drink? Or a blanket?”
He looked down at his wet clothes. “I could probably use a towel.”
