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Usually, men like these came with good cases. We'd made a business out of trouble, so we couldn't sit around expecting lambs to grace our office.
It was usually always the lions, and they had a manner of interesting requests.
There was a very wealthy heiress whose son had gone missing. After weeks, we found he'd faked his own kidnapping to escape a life of too much wealth.
He'd done it because he wasbored.
Back when we were doing rounds of the country, we nabbed three serial killers. Each had their own methodical route to madness.
They were all inbred with the same kind of pride, though, and that meant they kept leaving little clues and relics.
Ironic how a man's pride would often lead to his biggest pitfall.
We had some funny ones too.
There was this one time when the owner of a very rich, old-world hotel came with complaints of disgruntled guests asking for a refund because ... ghosts.
Turned out the ghost was none other than a very disgruntled member of hotel management who got sick of handling the rich and their odd requests.
Including having to plan occasional orgies.
All the cases boiled down to one of three things—money, revenge, or the good old-fashioned urge to prove a point.
"Reed Smith?"
I nodded. "Welcome to Trident. These are my fellow detectives, Miguel and Asher. Asher handles the logistics of the business, and Miguel here is our tech-wiz. How can we help you?"
The man curled his thin lips into a small smile.
"I must say, I'm impressed with the settings. You've set up quite the office."
Trident Investigations was my life's work. Correction—it was our flesh and blood in physical form.
I saw his pale, sly eyes go over the gleaming glass walls and the brushed steel accents.
On the left end, high-resolution monitors displayed feed from surveillance cameras all over the city.
Miguel manned an advanced computer system, using it to hack into databases when our jobs called for it.
"But, I wonder. Why'd you leave the SEALs and become glorified detectives? How can this ... even compare? I'd be bored outta my mind if I were you."
He wasn't the first person to look at us and think we were missing the adrenaline that came from being out in the field.
I simply shrugged my shoulders. "We like this life."
He smiled once more. He was an odd duck, with a face like a crumpled paper bag and a look that kept telling me he knew something I didn't.
"Some people think boring things help escape inner demons. Are you sure you're not running?"
It was just eleven in the morning, and I'd had about enough.
"Down here, we have a protocol we like to follow. We'll be asking the questions to see if we're a good fit for each other, and then we'll draw up a contract.
"If that's not quite what you had in mind, you're welcome to head on out the way you came.
"Now, we're not gonna force you to spill the beans on your case if you don't want to. And likewise, we're not obligated to work with you. But if everything checks out and we're the right ones for the job, we'd be happy to lend a hand."
I'd heard men like him before, and I'd already decided he wasn't worth my time.
