Dead-End Detective, page 2
Nat sighed, but before she could answer, I heard a deep voice coming from Samantha’s office in the next room.
“We’ll chat more tomorrow, but I’m excited about this opportunity for us both. Trust me, Sam,” a man said.
My stomach dropped as I recognized Matt Billows’s resonant tenor. He was the source of all my problems. I frowned at Nat. She looked down at her desk.
“This will be a successful partnership for all involved,” Billows added. “With your knowledge of how these fools operate, you’ll be just the person to keep them out of Lake Waters.” A door closed somewhere down the hallway. “I’m very excited you’re on board. I’ll have my lawyer write up your contract today.”
I bristled, and the fur on Gumshoe’s back stood on end. He hissed. At least the cat and I were in agreement on this.
Chapter Three
Gumshoe jumped off the back of the couch and dashed out of the room as Matt Billows and Samantha walked into the main office. I half-wished I could run away from this situation, too, but I needed to stand my ground, spandex and all.
Matt Billows was cool and calm. Perfectly dressed, perfectly straight teeth, and dark hair that would be a great addition to any male hair loss commercial. It waved slightly when he moved, but it never fell out of place. It was magical in that way.
Samantha Porter had just turned forty last week and was a beautiful woman, sturdily built with snapping green eyes and lustrous dark curls. She stood tall, close to six feet. When Samantha came into a room, she had a presence.
At five one, I didn’t have much of a presence at all. But what I lacked in stature, I made up for in gumption—or so my grammy had always told me. People tended to underestimate me, which was an advantage as a private eye. Samantha’s superior height was a bit of sore spot with me, because when we were at odds, she used her height to her advantage. She did at this moment as well. I could tell by her expression she wasn’t happy to see me.
I lifted my chin and stood there flushed, breathing heavy, chocolate milk dripping from my chin, but I refused to break eye contact with her until she looked away. She finally did.
I wiped at my mouth with the back of my hand and stared at Billows. “What are you doing here?” It wasn’t the politest greeting, but it was as much as he deserved.
“Oh, Darby, it’s so nice to see you too,” Billows said smoothly. “I’m sorry you weren’t able to make it to our meeting, but Samantha gave me your apologies.” He looked me up and down. “I can see you were otherwise occupied.”
I didn’t know how it was possible since I’d just run three miles, but I could feel my face become even redder.
He smiled as he walked past me, and then he turned and said to Samantha, “I’ll be in touch.”
I waited until the front door closed before I said anything. “I can’t believe you.”
“Darby, don’t start,” Samantha said.
“Don’t start? Don’t start? How can you even say that when you went behind my back to talk to Billows? We’re partners, Sam, and that’s not how partners work.”
“I needed the details about the offer he was making me so we could make an informed decision. You’re too emotional about the whole thing to even hear him out. He said he’d have a spot in Lake Waters for you too.” She handed a file to Nat.
Nat took it without a word and turned back to her computer. She’d heard our argument so many times before that she had the ability to tune us out. I wished I could do that, but it was my dream on the line.
I stared at Samantha. I’d thought it was our dream—our shared dream. I was sorry to learn I was wrong.
“You were talking about me to him? That’s a dirty trick to take a meeting without me. You might have sixty percent of the agency, but I still have forty percent. I should be informed when you’re making decisions that impact our business.”
“You were on your run,” Samantha said without looking at me. “I know how much that means to you. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
I took a breath. “I don’t believe you. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if you planned this meeting during my run so I wouldn’t be here.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Honestly, Darb, at times you’re so overdramatic.”
“Overdramatic? Am I overdramatic about losing everything we’ve built over the last ten years?”
“We aren’t losing anything. Matt has positions for both of us in the company. That’s stability. Isn’t that something you want? It’s what I want. I need to start thinking about my future. I don’t want to be working until I’m in my eighties.”
“Come on,” I shot back. “You turned forty and act like you’re on the brink of retirement. I know there’s something else going on here. The Samantha I know and love wouldn’t do this. You like having your own company. You like being your own boss.”
“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought,” she said without looking at me.
I stepped back like she’d punched me in the stomach. “Maybe I don’t,” I said quietly.
She turned around. “Matt said—”
“Matt, huh? Now you’re on a first-name basis?”
“Darby,” she chastised. “You’re behaving like a child. This is a smart business move, and you’d realize that if you’d set your emotions aside for one second and look at the situation critically.”
“I have looked at it critically, and we’re fine.”
“But we aren’t getting anywhere. We’ve flatlined in the last three years. We’re making enough to pay our bills and our meager salaries, but we aren’t growing. Don’t you want to grow and make something more out of your life?”
“Not if it makes me a sellout,” I said, knowing I sounded exactly like the teenager Samantha had accused me of being. “I don’t even know why he’d want you to work for him. He already has a security team. What’s he going to do? Fire them all and bring you in to save the day?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Lake Waters plans to make a lot of changes to increase its business.”
I laughed. “So you’ll be shooing away paparazzi all day. That sounds like a really exciting job.”
“It doesn’t matter if it’s exciting. It’s stable, and Matt’s right. With my surveillance experience as a private eye, I know how the paparazzi think when they’re trying to get the money shot. I’m the perfect person for the job. I asked him to bring you on too, and he agreed.”
I frowned.
Samantha sighed. “It’s stable and easy work. It’s something I need right now.”
“I told you things we can do to drum up more business, but you ignored all my suggestions.”
“I’m tired of shaking trees for business, Darby. Don’t you ever get tired of chasing after small-time criminals and finding lost dogs? I want an easier life. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “We’re helping people.”
“Sometimes I’m not so certain of that. We also hurt a lot of people with the information we find.”
“I can’t believe you’re saying that. When we started this place, the idea was to create an affordable option for people who needed help. You’re betraying that ideal.”
She shook her head as if I couldn’t possibly understand.
“What does Logan say about this?”
Her head snapped in my direction, and I immediately regretted asking. Logan Montgomery was a town council member and Samantha’s long-time boyfriend. They’d been together since before we opened Two Girls.
“Logan and I aren’t together any longer.”
I blinked. That was the last thing I’d expected to hear. Well, the second; the first would’ve been that she wanted to leave Two Girls. If Samantha was closing the business she loved and breaking up with her boyfriend, something more was definitely going on.
“I wish you’d tell me what the real problem is,” I said. “I can help.”
She stared at me for a long moment. “You can’t. This is bigger than you or me, Darby. This is bigger than Billows. You couldn’t possibly understand.”
I threw up my hands. “Help me understand, because I really don’t. You told me when we opened this agency that you became a private eye for your dad. Now you’re walking away from it?”
She glared at me. “It’s not fair to bring up my father.”
I bit my lip. Maybe she was right. It was a low blow. When Samantha was ten, her father had come home from work, interrupting an apparent burglary in their home, and had been killed. The culprit or culprits were never caught. Her life goal was to find out who killed him. She didn’t believe it was a random act. She’d chased many leads over her adult life trying to find the truth, but had never gotten anywhere with it. I knew how much that frustrated her.
She shook her head. “I have to go.” She started for the front door. “I need to follow up on the Multigrain Market case.”
“You can’t close the agency without me,” I called after her.
She turned around and frowned at me. “That’s where you we’re wrong, Darb. I own the majority of the company. I met with Patrick last night. I can dissolve the company without your consent.” She took a breath. “And I will. I’m going to sign the papers tomorrow.”
The breath was sucked out of my chest. Patrick Hartwell was our attorney. We kept him on retainer. Many angry people we’d caught doing wrong had threatened to sue us over the years. Pat was worth his weight in gold.
She looked me in the eye. “Don’t make me choose between what I have to do and our friendship. Because my duty comes first.”
“Your duty? What on earth are you talking about? You don’t have to do this,” I said.
“I do. You can’t possibly understand, but I do.” With that, she walked out of the house. The front door gave a soft click when she pulled it closed.
In my damp running clothes, I shivered.
Chapter Four
Bang, bang, bang. There was a vigorous and unrelenting knock on my front door. As soon as I heard it, I knew it was the police. This wasn’t the first the first time I’d received a late-night visit from the cops. It wasn’t a common occurrence, but in my line of work, it wasn’t unheard-of, either.
Gumshoe, who’d been sleeping by my feet, hissed and jumped to the floor before disappearing underneath the bed. Ragdolls weren’t known for their bravery, and he was a perfect example of the breed.
I glanced at the clock as the banging continued. Four a.m. Really? I rolled out of bed, grabbed a hoodie from the back of a chair, and slipped it on. As I padded down the stairs, my foggy brain went through all my open cases. I couldn’t think of a single one that might have a reason to involve the police. They were all small-time crimes, the dirty work that apparently was now beneath Samantha. The work she wanted to escape.
At the front door, I peered through the peephole and saw Austin Caster. My ex.
I closed my eyes for a moment and steadied myself. Of course it would be him. My hair was a rat’s nest, and I wished I’d taken the time to brush it or at least throw it back in a messy bun.
Bang, bang, bang. There was no time to worry about my hair now. I knew better than to keep the police waiting.
I took a breath and opened the door, chagrined that Austin looked wide awake and as handsome as ever under the soft glow of my porch light. His uniform was pressed and crisp. He had blond hair and blue eyes and looked like a cover model for a beach magazine. Very fine lines raced from the corners of his eyes from squinting in the sun on his sailboat. When Austin wasn’t at work, he was out on the lake. If anything, the lines made him even more attractive. They gave his face character. I wished my crow’s feet gave me character.
“Austin,” I blurted. “What’s going on?”
He was a seasoned cop who had entered the police academy the day after high school graduation. He was also my on-again, off-again high school sweetheart and boyfriend for the past decade-plus. It was exhausting. I’d heard he was dating someone new, a sweeter-than-sweet kindergarten teacher. Apparently, after all that time with me, he was looking for something completely different. I knew this because my best friend Maelynn had made a point of telling me as soon as she’d heard, and Maelynn, who owned the coffee shop in Herrington, heard everything first. I wouldn’t be surprised, even at four in the morning, if she already knew why Austin was on my doorstep.
I tamped down the old feelings that seemed to come up whenever I saw him. I put the kindergarten teacher out of my mind. He wasn’t on my doorstep in his uniform for a social call. Beyond him, I could see his partner, Zack Louter, leaning against their cruiser. Louter, a bodybuilder type, had a perpetual scowl on his face. He wasn’t happy to be there, either. I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if he’d set Austin up with the kindergarten teacher. He hadn’t been a huge fan of mine since I’d proven he’d arrested the wrong man on an assault and battery charge five years ago. Louter could milk a grudge.
Being a P.I., I knew all the police in Herrington well. I had to; it was important to keep a good relationship with the cops, even Louter, as much as I could, because there were times I needed their help and information. And even though they’d deny it, there were times they needed mine, too. I wasn’t above taking a box of cupcakes to the department when I needed to bribe them into helping me with a case. Maelynn’s husband was a world-class baker and made the very best cupcakes I’d ever eaten, and I’d eaten my share of cupcakes and cookies. If something had sugar in it, I was a buyer.
Austin’s favorite cupcake was salted caramel crunch from Maelynn’s coffee shop. I’d always had one in the box for him.
“Darby.” Austin smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
I wrapped the hoodie a little more closely around my body as if to protect myself from whatever he was about to tell me. “Why are you here, Austin? It’s the middle of the night.” I wanted him to cut to the chase. Now, that I knew about his girlfriend, there really wasn’t anything else for us to talk about.
“They sent me because the chief thought it’d be easier for you to hear from me, since we…” He paused. “Since we go way back.”
I made a face and made no attempt to cover it. Why would anyone think it’d be easier for me to hear bad news from Austin? In fact, getting bad news from just about anyone else would’ve been preferable—even from Louter.
Suddenly fear gripped my chest. “Is it my dad?” If it was, why hadn’t my mother or my sister called me? Maybe they hadn’t had time because he’d taken a bad turn. I grabbed Austin’s strong forearm. “Did he have a seizure?”
He shook his head. “No, it’s not your dad or anyone in your family. It’s about Samantha Porter.”
I blinked. That was the last thing I’d expected him to say. “Samantha? Is she all right? Is anything wrong?”
“According to her doctor, you’re her emergency contact.”
I was? I hadn’t known that. I shook my head. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered until he told me why it mattered.
“What’s wrong with Samantha?”
“There’s been an accident,” he said with a deep frown. His blue eyes were almost white in the porch light.
“Oh my God. Is she in the hospital? How badly is she hurt?” I started to back up. “Let me grab my keys and phone, and we can go right now.”
“We don’t need to rush to the hospital.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. She’s dead, Darby.”
I blinked at him for a moment. I stood on my doorstep barefoot and in my pajamas, staring at my ex-boyfriend, trying to process his words. Samantha? Dead? How was that even possible?
I didn’t cry. Why didn’t I cry? Because my brain wouldn’t accept what Austin was telling me. What did he know? The first time he’d dumped me had been right after senior prom. He wasn’t right about everything.
Austin studied me. There had to be a whole host of emotions racing across my face, but not one of them reflected acceptance, because this simply wasn’t possible. And I made sure Austin knew that.
“You have to be wrong. Samantha is fine. One hundred percent fine. I saw her today—well, yesterday now—and she was in perfect health.”
“It was a car accident. She might’ve been in perfect health during the day, but now she’s gone.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Is this some kind of sick joke?”
“I wouldn’t do that, Darby,” Austin said, and for just a moment there was a glimpse of the boy I’d adored since school.
For all his faults, I knew that was true, and that was when the truth hit me full force. I pressed the back of my hand on my forehead, and a wave of dizziness and nausea washed over me.
“I think I need to sit.” Without saying another word, I plopped down right there in the middle of the entryway.
Austin stared at me as if he was at a complete loss as to what to do.
A tear rolled down my cheek. Samantha had been my mentor, my friend, and my partner. I couldn’t believe she was dead.
“Are you all right?”
It was such a mundane question. One of those questions everyone asked when someone was profoundly upset; one I would’ve asked if I’d been in Austin’s position. But now, being on the receiving end of such a mundane and maddeningly kind question, —my friend had died, so no, I wasn’t all right—I knew I’d never make such a careless comment to another person again. Was I all right? Did I look all right? Despite the wave of grief and anger and confusion that washed over me, I held back all the sharp retorts that came to mind. It wasn’t Austin’s fault.
He crouched beside me, and I had this strange flashback to when we were teenagers and he was on the football team and would run over to me sitting on the bleachers after practice. I was so small he’d crouch down to give me a quick kiss on the lips before he ran off to the showers. He did that every time I was there, until one day, he stopped and waved at me from the field before hitting the locker room. That was the beginning of the end for us. But it hadn’t been, not really. That scene would play out in one way or another over the next ten years. It was as much my fault as his for letting it happen.
