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“Crazy, I know. I told him to leave the matchmaking to me.” She smiles and I’m relieved. I don’t want to lie to Evie, but I made a promise to Kate that I wouldn’t say anything, and I always honor my word.

My cell sounds from the desk and I answer, glancing to see a blocked number flash across the screen. “Harper and Beltran, this is Jon.”

“Beltran, Collier here. You got a sec?”

Detective Collier works for Scottsdale PD and we became business associates after a private investigation case almost turned deadly. Since then, he’s put a good word in for me and I take on contract work with the department on a regular basis. I respect his no bullshit attitude. You always know what you’re getting with Collier.

“Yeah, what can I do for you Detective?”

“We’ve got a bite on an underground drug and gambling ring. I could use some help casing a few locations and potential players. Not the usual suspects, though. These guys are mid-fifties to mid-sixties, retired, no priors. Making it a fucking pain in my ass. You in?”

“Sounds good. Just send the details and I’ll block out some time in my schedule.”

“Will do. Be in touch.”

The line goes dead and I set my phone down. I’m going to have a packed schedule for the next few weeks with this extra assignment. That’s good. Keeping busy will help keep my mind from wandering to the blonde goddess and her severe lack of clothing.

“So, I’m going to head out for the night unless there’s anything else we need to discuss. Are you going to do a little digging with the McAllister case tomorrow?”

Evie busies herself packing up her laptop bag and putting away loose files while I stand from my chair and stretch.

“Yeah, I think I might try checking out his office tomorrow to see what I find. I’ll need back up, though. You free for a few hours?”

“Sorry. I already told Carly I’d watch the boys so she could pick up a weekend shift, and Tate’s working. Otherwise, I would.”

“That’s cool. I’m sure I can find someone.”

“Wait. McAllister doesn’t have office hours tomorrow. How are you going to check things out?”

Sliding my hands into my front pockets, I purse my lips to whistle. I don’t quite meet Evie’s hard stare.

“Jon. We talked about this. Nothing illegal. I mean it. We do our investigating on the up and up, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear. I won’t do anything dangerous. I swear. But if he just happens to forget to lock the back door to his building tonight and I just happen to be walking by said door tomorrow, I can’t really be blamed for going inside to check things out.”

Ugh! I’m going to pretend I never heard you say that. And for the record, I think it’s a bad idea. So far, this case seems bogus anyway. I think his wife’s just hormonal and paranoid. We’ve found nothing to solidify her suspicions.” I follow Evie out our front door and down to where her car’s parked.

I agree with Evie. When we first met a very pregnant Susie McAllister three weeks ago, I initially thought maybe her claims were true, but after hours of investigation I wasn’t so sure. Susie, seven months pregnant, is under the impression her husband of five years is having an affair with his secretary Tammy. Who, by the way, is also seven months pregnant. Susie’s deduced he must be the baby daddy since Tammy’s single and isn’t sharing with anyone who the father is.

Susie’s claims are all based on feelings that her husband Robert has been more distant, stressed, and less interested in sex since she’s become pregnant. He also spends most of his time at work. I’m not sure what’s happening, but Evie and I are doing due diligence to rule out Mrs. McAllister’s claims and hopefully relieve her paranoia.

“Yeah, I’d have to agree with you. I still want to check out the office. It’s the place he spends most of his time, so if there is anything he is hiding from his wife, it’ll be there.”

“Do what you gotta do. Just don’t call me when you get arrested for breaking and entering!” She opens her car door, tosses her laptop bag inside and slides in to start the ignition.

“Oh, hey, I got a text from an old army comrade who may be flying into town to meet with a specialist next week. Is it cool if I let Alex stay here for a few days?”

“Fine by me. A friend of yours is always welcome in our house.”

“Thanks, Evie. Good night.”

“’Night, Jon. See you Monday.” I smile and close the car door. Backing up, I head straight for the cold AC. Summers are a bitch and I’d forgotten just how bad. It was almost six o’clock and still over a hundred degrees. Sweat drips off my brow and down my back as I turn the lock.

Heading into the kitchen I chug down a protein shake, fill my water jug, and grab my keys. I’m already sweaty and gross, might as well get a quick lift in before this day’s over and the next begins.

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“Kate. You hear me okay?”

“Talk dirty to me.”

I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me from where she’s parked outside the commercial storefronts. Bringing Kate along today wasn’t my first choice, but she’s one of very few friends I can even ask. Of course, Kate being Kate insisted that she drive because, I quote, “I need my own wheels if I’ve got to drive the getaway car.” Kate loves bad cop dramas more than anyone I know. Every time she helps out with a case she behaves as if we’re acting in one.

I glance over each shoulder before jiggling the back door open with my pick set. Rob McAllister runs his own insurance brokerage and leases an office front on a busy street downtown. The lot in the back is for overflow parking, so at this hour it’s dead. From tailing McAllister over the past few weeks I know there isn’t a security system and the lock in back is finicky so he prefers to use the front. Kate’s posted in the front on the off chance he comes by.

“Just checking to make sure the Bluetooth works.”

“Gotcha, Army. I’m here. This is boring, though.”

“Yeah, most surveillance is. Just keep an eye on the door, okay?”

“What do you say?” She sings into my ear.

“What?”

I make it inside and scrutinize the small space. McAllister’s work area is separated from his secretary’s desk by a half wall. Her workspace sits directly in front of a small waiting area with chairs and a magazine laden table.

“You know. Say the magic word. I need to hear you say it.” I release a frustrated sigh and give into her stupid request.

“Please.”

“Thank you. Was that so hard?”

“Harder than you know.”

Methodically checking the drawers in his desk, I find nothing more than a killer candy stash and the usual junk that clutters a desk. I turn, my back to the front door, and examine the contents of the large filling cabinets lining the back wall.

I squat down to flip through file after file, moving as fast and as diligently as I can. I don’t want to miss something important, but so far all looks normal and in place. I hear the sound of voices talking outside the tinted glass office front. Could be a pedestrian but I don’t want to assume.

“Kate. Kate, you there?” I whisper into my Bluetooth.

“Here! Ready, locked, and loaded. What do you need, big guy?” I can hear her smacking gum and her voice booms in my ear.

“First off, I need you to talk softer. I may not have a working eardrum.”

“Anything else you’d like to criticize?”

I continue to flip through files as fast as my fingers allow but the voices increase in volume near the front doors. Peeking my head over the half wall that shields my body from view, I take a look. Shit.

“Kate. Kate, I need you to listen to me. This is really important. Do you see the front door? Do you see people out there?”

“The preggo chick talking on her cell pacing back and forth. Yeah, I see her.”