Page 34 of Done Dirty

“Who’s Gary?” I asked.

“Mom’s new boyfriend.” He leaned his elbows on the island. “He owns restaurants all over the state. He does hot yoga at five in the morning, and he wears weird patterned chef’s pants even when he’s not cooking. But Mom says he’s attractive, doesn’t owe child support to six different women, and he rubs her feet when she gets off work.” He shrugged with an expression that said the weird pants and hot yoga overrode all those other qualities.

Jack poured two glasses of water and put one in front of me without being asked. I ate chips at the island and Oscar sat on my feet. The evening light was going gold through the kitchen windows and the fireflies were starting up in the yard.

“How’s your mom?” Jack asked.

“She seems happy.” Doug shoved several chips in his mouth. “You know how she is. I cut my trip short because I was cramping their style. She said they were talking about getting married.”

“Oh, wow,” I said. “That’s a change.”

I didn’t know Doug’s mother well. But Doug’s Uncle Ben was Jack’s best friend, and they were closer than brothers. Doug was a special kid. Most parents wouldn’t know what to do with a kid who could hack into the Pentagon before he hit puberty or who helped develop artificial intelligence.

Doug was technically still under government surveillance and had to wear an ankle monitor until he was eighteen, but if the government thought their electronic bracelet was high tech enough to keep Doug from doing exactly what he wanted to, I wasn’t going to be the person to break that news to them. Not to mention I was pretty sure Doug was doing work for other AI companies in the industry. I could have sworn I caught him on a video call with Elon Musk one afternoon.

“Well, Gary is better than the last guy at least,” Doug said. “And Margot already checked him out.”

“I did,” Margot said. “Gary Delacroix. He has fourteen restaurants in Virginia and the DC metro area. His first marriage ended when he was discovered having an affair with his sous chef in the walk-in cooler at his flagship restaurant in Georgetown. The incident also resulted in a citation from the health department.”

“TMI, Margot,” Doug said.

“I’ve already sent a yellow and green flag list to your email. I’ve told you to give it to your mother before she decides on marriage.”

“Yes, I’m sure she’d appreciate that I’ve been digging into his life on an FBI level. I’ve already told you people don’t appreciate that level of intrusion.”

Margot sighed. “It feels like we’ve been having the same fights over and over lately. Please, Douglas, let’s get counseling before it’s too late.”

Doug looked at us with wide eyes and shook his head. “I told you. We’re not married. I don’t think there’s protocol for a teenager and his AI friend.”

“Friend?” she said, her voice on the verge of hysteria. “So now I’m just a friend?”

“I don’t mean to interrupt what is obviously a very serious discussion the two of you need to have,” Jack said, cutting in. “But we’re in the middle of a case right now and the whole team needs to be sharp.”

“Right,” Margot said, her voice stiff. “Duty first. I’ll keep our personal issues away from work. If you don’t mind, I’m going to power down until I’m needed.”

Without waiting for a response, the computer went dark. Doug came over and closed the lid to make sure she was really gone and not secretly listening in on the conversation.

“She’s gotten out of control,” Doug said. “It might be time for a new model and an upgrade.”

“Just what every man says when he trades in his wife of thirty years,” I said, shaking my head.

“Where are you on the camera footage?” Jack asked.

“I’ve been through most of it,” Doug said. “I’ll walk everyone through it when the team gets here. What do I need to know about today?”

I gave him the short version. Pilates instructor, head bashed in, postmortem knife to the groin, notebook full of women’s names in his studio safe along with a burner phone, and a significant amount of cash.

Doug ate a chip. “So he was running his studio as pimp central.”

“That’s one way to put it,” I said. “One of the witnesses told us he mentioned being on a strict supplement regimen and taking testosterone. And she said you could tell just by looking at him he wasn’t getting that physique from Pilates.” I paused. “I’m curious to see what Daniels found when her team went through the condo.”

Jack looked at me and I could tell he’d figured out where I was going. “You’re thinking Paige was his supplier.”

“Paige is an aesthetic nurse. She has prescribing authority for exactly the class of compounds we’re talking about. It certainly explains why he’d go against his normal behavior patterns and move her in with him.”

“She’d basically be his supplier,” Jack said. “It could put her license in jeopardy. Maybe she decided not to risk her career and told him she was cutting him off.”

“As good of a reason as any to break up with someone. We’ll see what Daniels says, but my gut says we need to talk to Paige again.”