Picked(4)

“I can read,” I assured my dad. “This isn’t my first day.” All five of the men sitting around the conference table instantly laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant, I’ve been coming in here since I was born,” I tried to explain. Glancing at the only other female, I noticed the smirk on Marti’s face as well. Whatever. I never liked her, either. She may as well have been a man, she looked like one.

My father sent another case sliding down the table to Marti. Opening it, she rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Luke? We’re in Philly.”

“Polygamy isn’t prejudice. Check it out, would you? One of the girls’ sisters thinks she’s there against her will.”

“How many are there?” I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I was just curious, more about Marti’s new case than mine. Nobody answered my outburst, well, just my dad with his piercing, disappointed eyes, telling me to shut up and that it wasn’t any of my business. Yes. I read all that in one quick glance from him.

“Becker Cole?” Marti questioned. “Isn’t this the guy that was on the news the other night? What was he on there for? I can’t remember.”

“He’s the nerd that created the new online game that went viral in a matter of days, an interactive dating site, I think. I’d like to have his money. You got photos of the chicks?” Matt’s interest was piqued, sticking his neck out to look at Marti’s file. “Who wouldn’t want to be rich and have three beautiful girls?”

I think my breathing stopped. I was playing the game this guy created. He was hoarding women. Where did he come from? Polygamy wasn’t well known around these parts. Why would any man want more than one wife anyway? I didn’t get it and found myself very intrigued with Marti’s new case.

“Oh yeah. I remember that. I still think it’s a waste of time. So what if the guy is doing more than one girl? The guy’s got money. They’re probably eating that shit up,” Marti supposed.

“Can you just do your job, Marti?” my dad spoke. I wanted to hear more. I wanted that case. Why did I get the bald, fat guy? “Check it out and report back to me by Wednesday. Go on, go to work. We’ll brief here in a couple days. Stay!” my father demanded with one stern finger pointed back to my chair and his eyes focused right at me. Great, just what I wanted, another Luke McClelland lecture.

“Matt, you be careful out there. Call me if you need assistance,” my dad urged. Matt was investigating a drug cartel, thought to be shipping cocaine in on a sail boat. That was one of his cases anyway. He never worked just one.





Chapter 2





I sat in my chair while my dad dismissed his comrades, waiting with my face resting on my fists, annoyed. It took at least five minutes for him to shut up and let everyone leave. Taking a deep breath, I dropped my hands, leaned back, and crossed my arms, ready to take on the sermon.

“Cass, what the hell? You’re making me look bad. You can’t be zoning out in the middle of a briefing.”

Hmmm, opportunity knocked loudly for the hundredth time. Should I use the opportunity to tell him that I no longer want to be a private investigator? That working for him was the last thing on earth I wanted to do? Or that I never, ever wanted to be an investigator?

“Sorry,” I cowered.

“Do you need help? I can let you shadow one of the guys for a few days if you want.”

“No. I’m fine. I’ve shadowed you my whole life,” I reminded him of the fact. I could always remember coming in this office. His office was a part of my life. Once my mother was gone, I practically lived there. Summers were the worst.

“Stay focused. Go find this guy and report back to me this afternoon.”

“I thought you said Wednesday.”

“That didn’t mean you. You have to stop back in this afternoon.”

“Dad, I’m not fighting this traffic to come back here. It would take me an hour each way from this guy’s house. You’re an investigator. Did you not see his address? He’s clear across town.”

“You don’t have to go anywhere today, Cass. Just find the guy. You can do that here in your cubical, for the most part anyway.”

I looked at him confused. “I have an address.”

“No, you don’t. That was the last known address. The guy likes to move around a lot. I doubt if he’s there.”

Great, just what I wanted to do, hang out in that dingy dungeon of a cubical all day on an ancient desktop that should have been buried years ago. Had I known my day was destined in the office, I would have brought my own laptop. Smiling with a hidden sigh, I moved past my father.