Picked(11)

Straightening my posture, I paid close attention, needing every bit of information Mari could give me.

“Nothing. These girls are not missing. They are there on their own accord. I met with the sister who hired us yesterday and she has since changed her mind. She told me she was invited to the house and her sister seemed to be very happy. She apologized for my trouble. I shook her hand and we parted as friends,” Marti explained.

“That’s it?” Shit. I did it again.

“You stepping in Daddy’s shoes already?” Marti asked, irritated.

“Kevin? What’ve you got?” My dad asked, moving around the table, diverting a conversation he wasn’t going to let happen. Damnit. I got up an hour early for this?

My mind didn’t register one word Kevin was saying. It was on Becker Cole and the three women he had as his wives. I was captivated by a man handling three wives. Was he stopping there? Would he get more? Why did he want more than one?

“What would you do in this case, Cass?”

“Huh?” I questioned, being pulled from my investigating mind. “Shut up,” I added with a frown when Matt laughed at me.

“I’ve got work to do. We done here?” Matt asked, collecting his belongings. He stopped long enough to look at my dad for permission. My dad nodded, not taking his disappointed expression away from me. I tried to join the rank and follow everyone else out the door with my head down. My father’s arm barricading the door stopped me.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked.

Taking a step back, I looked up. “Nothing.”

“You need to get it together. You’ve been one of the guys for less than a week.”

“I know. I was thinking about something else. Why does it matter if I know about anyone else’s case?”

“It doesn’t, but you seem to focus okay when we’re talking about the Becker case.”

“That’s because you should have given me that case.”

“There is no case. Get out of here and get me something on Zimmer.”

I knew the tone and listened. I’d heard the same one a million times over the years. It was the one that said get out of my face before I blow my top. He never really blew his top with me, but I did see him explode on the agents around the office.

Dropping my head, I went to my corner. Sitting in my chair, I retrieved my phone. I held it to the right of my shoulder, using it for a mirror. Marti filed the folder I wanted to get my hands on. Third drawer down, quarter of the way from the front, I jotted it on my own case file. She wouldn’t be there long. She’d be off working on one of her many cases. Hoping she left soon, I looked around at what I could do. There wasn’t much I could do. Unlike the rest of the crew, I only had one case, and it was sort of a dud until I could catch him out of the house.

I needed to leave the office in order to avoid another confrontation with my dad. I wanted that file. I wanted to sit across the road from Zimmer and read every tiny inch of it, catch Mr. Zimmer doing something he shouldn’t be doing, and shove it in my dad’s face.

“Investigating Marti now?” Matt asked, sliding one leg over the corner of my desk.

I dropped the mirrored image on my phone. “No. I was checking my makeup,” I lied, forgetting the fact that I’d forgotten to put any on due to my early rising and meddling mind.

“What are you up to?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying. I’m good at this, you’re not, remember?”

Feeling my face flush, I knew I was caught in a lie. I hated it. It was a dead giveaway for me. My dad says I got it from my mother. She did the same thing when she tried to lie. I was okay as long as I wasn’t called out. I dropped my eyes and flipped open my folder, trying to hide my scratch pad about Becker Cole more than anything. I didn’t want him to see that. It would just give him something else to give me a hard time about.

“I’ve known you since you were twelve. I can tell when you’re up to something.”

“What would I be up to? It’s not like anyone trusts I can do this job, anyway.”

“You can’t do this job, Cassie. Why don’t you admit it before someone gets hurt?”

“I’m not planning on shooting anyone,” I assured him.

Matt blew out a puff of air, moved his leg from my desk, and stood. “I sure as hell hope your dad isn’t dumb enough to give you a gun, but it’s not the someone else I’m worried about getting hurt. It’s you.”

My mouth dropped a little while my eyes watched him walk away. Was he hitting on me? Nah, surely not. He was at least fifteen years older than me, maybe even more. Matt had known me since I was a kid, and my dad would have his nuts. What did he mean by that? He was worried about me. Maybe it was like the kid-sister kind of worry.