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I watched them for a minute, pleased at the turn of events and hopeful that this meant we could all be friends and an epic night out was in my future, then I went to fuel up so I could get on with my day.

I’D RECEIVED AN email from overseas last night. There’s a young man deployed with the military, and he’s afraid his wife is stepping out on him while he’s away.

This, of course, set my blood to boiling. Not only did I hate cheaters, and love nailing their asses to the wall, but it takes a special kind of asshole to cheat on their husband while he’s deployed and serving our country.

I drove out of town and into The Heights. Phillips, the soldier who’d contacted me, and his wife lived in Florida, but she was here staying with family while he was away.

I parked a couple houses down and waited. This part of the job could be tedious, and often required patience, and a few outings before I ever got any evidence, but it was a necessary evil.

This was what I used to do for Moose, when he was the PI and I was just his investigative photographer, which I now know was a fancy word for assistant. Or, grunt. As in, I did all of the grunt work, while he sat back in the office and did mostly paperwork and took calls.

As I waited, my eyes trained on Mrs. Phillips’ parents’ house, I wondered if maybe it was time for me to hire an investigative photographer.

I was making enough money, and I wouldn’t mind freeing up some of my time and letting someone else handle the grunt work for a change.

I took out my phone and opened the Notes, and started making a pro con list.

After about thirty minutes, I had fifty pros and three cons, so I figured I was on the right track. I looked up to see the garage door opening and a silver Hyundai pulling out. The driver looked to be a female around twenty-five or so, and fit the description of the spouse, so I pulled out and followed a few car lengths behind.

We drove into Greenswood and parked at the open lot downtown.

Mrs. Phillips was wearing a pretty floral maxi dress, with her dark hair pulled back and long dangly earrings. I kept my phone in my hand, pretending to be preoccupied, while keeping her in my peripheral.

I was surprised when she stopped and turned to go into the library. I waved at Clare, the lady at the desk, when I walked inside. When I worked for Moose, I’d often used the library as my pseudo office and had spent many a day with Clare shaking her head and telling me to keep it down.

For old times’ sake, I shouted, “Hey, Clare!” and grinned when she held her finger to her lips and replied, “Shhhh.”

I shuffled through the aisles, keeping an eye on my perp as I moved.

When she walked to the counter with a couple books, checked out, and turned to leave, I was left feeling a bit disappointed.

I’d been hoping for something scandalous to happen between the stacks, but, alas, it appeared we were only here to check out books.

Still, that didn’t mean she wasn’t cheating, so I waved at Clare again and headed out in pursuit of Mrs. Phillips.

I followed her to the Greenswood Boutique, Target, and the grocery store, before she finished her errands and turned her Hyundai back to The Heights. I decided to take a break from following the oh-so-boring Mrs. Phillips, and try again Friday night.

The twins were staying with Eric and his fiancée, Mary, this weekend, so I’d have more freedom to get the dirt on the wayward spouse.

As I started home, I grabbed my phone and dialed Carmen.

“Go for Carmen,” she answered, and I knew she was busy at work and hadn’t bothered to check to see who was calling.

“Hey, it’s Lila.”

“Hi,” she replied, her tone switching from businesslike to warm. “How’s it going? You know, I’ve been meaning to call you after that stuff at the coffee shop with Amy May. I hope she’s not too upset. I tried calling her, but she didn’t answer, so I sent her a few texts. Bea hasn’t heard from her either, and I have to say, that makes me nervous. I don’t like it when people are mad at me.”

I waited for her to take a breath, then seized my opportunity to speak and said loudly, “Want to come to dinner tonight?”

“What? Oh, yeah . . . at your place?”

“Yuppers.”

“Sounds fun. I’ll come over after work. Need me to bring anything?”

“Just your cutie patootie.”

Carmen snickered and said, “Okay, I’ll see you later.”

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