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“We do, and I know the best PIs in the business.”
“Mills and Johnson.” I looked at my feet hanging below the rung on the barstool. “But that means…”
“We have to tell them. Everything.”
I woke up the next morning with a nasty stiff neck. Saturday dawned with the sun’s rays streaming into the master suite at the guesthouse, but all I could think about was the pain in my neck—both literal and figurative.
Joe and I hadn’t made a decision yet to involve Mills and Johnson in our dilemma. Neither of us was quite ready to tell them. They were the best, according to Joe, but they were also mercenaries. If someone offered them more than we did for any information on us, they’d probably bite.
So maybe we needed to find another PI—one who couldn’t be bought.
The only problem was, as Joe had told me last night, everyone had his price. Everyone except his sister-in-law, Ruby Lee Steel.
But if we told Ruby…
So that was out of the question.
I had no idea where to even begin to look for a good PI, so Joe had taken that responsibility. My plan, for the time being, was to keep tabs on Ted Morse. Stay in the loop that way.
I walked out to the kitchen where Mom was feeding Henry.
“Da-da,” he said happily.
I smiled. This little guy could always get a smile out of me, even when I was feeling like complete and total crap.
The secret Joe and I were keeping was weighing me down big-time. And then there was…
Marjorie.
Marjorie, whose tears I had caused yesterday. That only heightened my resolve to leave her alone. I had to for myself, but even more so, I had to for her. I wasn’t being fair to her. As usual, I was being a selfish bastard.
No matter what, I had to keep her at a distance.
I couldn’t hurt her. Her pain devastated me.
Today was Saturday, and I was determined to try to take my mind off all the troubles. No better way than spending some quality time with my child.
“How’d you like to go into town with Dad today?” I asked him. “We can go to Gymboree and then get some lunch and ice cream. We can go swing on the playground if it’s warm enough.”
Henry giggled, picked up a Cheerio from his tray, and stuffed it into his mouth.
“I think his tooth is feeling better,” Mom said. “He slept really well last night.”
Yeah, my son was sleeping, and I was out in a bar with Joe.
Something had to change.
“I wonder…”
“What?” my mom asked.
“What if you and Henry took a vacation? Somewhere nice where you could both relax.”
“What? Who would take care of the house? Of you?”
“I’m thirty-eight years old, Mom. I don’t need a caretaker. I’d just feel better if you and Henry were safe somewhere.”
“Safe? From that man who showed up at the house? Ted Morse?”
