“So, other than a booger-free zone, what does adult time look like?”
“Usually, I get JJ in bed, clean up the kitchen or catch up on the laundry, then sit down for some television or a good book. I don’t stay up too late since I’ve got to work the morning shift.” She rested the hand with the mug on the edge of the couch.
“How long have you been at the diner?”
“Way too long.” She laughed. “I hadn’t planned to work there this long, but it turns out I love the job.” She got to meet so many people, and the hours were perfect for her and JJ.
“That’s good. Have you thought about doing anything else?”
She had a time or two, but she really enjoyed her job and the people she encountered. “Not really. What about you—ever thought of giving up the PI business?”
“Nope. Like you, I enjoy my job.”
“I can see where it can be a good job. Doing something to help others get closure on things or find missing objects or people.”
He nodded and took another drink. “It definitely helps when I’m able to close a case with positive results.”
“What do you do when you’re not investigating a case?”
“I don’t really do a lot outside of work. I pretty much live the job. The hours aren’t exactly 8:00 to 5:00, Monday through Friday.”
“That’s true, I guess.” A gunfight erupted on the screen, catching their attention. The credits rolled a bit later. Quinn’s eyelids had grown heavy. “I think I’m going to hit the hay.”
“Good night, Quinn.”
“Good night.” She took her cup to the sink and then went to bed.
****
They pulled into the bank parking lot at 9:30 Monday morning and walked up to the teller window belonging to Madison. JJ sat on the floor in front of the counter and played his math game.
“Hello, Ms. Matthews,” Madison said in her normal cheerful tone. She looked at Reid and then back at Quinn. “What can I do for you today?”
“Hello, Madison,” Quinn said.
“Or is it Betsy Cotton?” Reid asked.
Madison’s face turned white. She opened her mouth and closed it.
“We have some questions for you,” Reid whispered, leaning in.
Madison looked around the bank lobby and then at her fellow tellers. They were all going about their business, oblivious to their conversation. “I can explain,” she croaked.
“We’d like it if you did.” Reid rested his forearm on the counter.
“I was desperate and had let my friends talk me into it. It was only supposed to be one time, but they owned me.”
“You’re talking about the work you did with Andrew Montilio?” Reid had said he didn’t want to cause any problems while they were at the bank. No unnecessary attention. Quinn handed her the check she had written to cash. They wanted to look like they were conducting business.
“Yes.” Madison took the check and tapped on her keyboard.
“Care to explain Joe Lockhart?”
She passed the check back. “Sign the back, please. Andrew quit. I was desperate. How was I supposed to keep”—she looked around—”working without him?”
Quinn signed the check and slid it back across the counter. “Why so desperate?”
“Because I had a loan shark to pay. When I finally paid him off, my coworkers decided they weren’t going to let me find new employment.”
