Chapter Three（2）

“You knew that was going to happen?”

“Hell, yeah. Sooner or later. And you did too.”

“Uh, no. I sure as hell did not.”

He looked both unconvinced and amused, which was exasperating. He said, “You seemed to be working hard to keep them apart for someone who didn’t know.”

I considered the precautions I’d taken, including trying to make sure Natalie was sleeping clear on the other side of the Valley from Angus. Maybe he was right. Maybe I hadn’t wanted to know.

“She’s supposed to be on the rebound from Warren,” I complained.

“Exactly.”

I shook my head, and he said, once again cutting through the bullshit, “What’s the real concern here?”

“Look, I like Angus. He’s a good employee, and I think he’s a… I think he means well, and I believe he deserves a chance to turn his life around. That said, he’s not the most stable guy in the world, and I’m not crazy about the idea of him and Natalie. Who is also not the most stable person on the planet. If she dumps him—and she will—I have no idea how he’ll react.”

He grunted, which I translated as I see your point.

“It’s a recipe for disaster.” And I couldn’t help feeling like I’d been the master chef.

“Maybe. She’s right, however. You’re trying to close the barn door after the horse has bolted. Hire a couple of additional employees, and you won’t have to worry about Angus or Natalie walking out.”

I groaned, and Jake ordered two more Irish coffees. He excused himself to use the washroom. I gazed out the window at the rain-dotted blur of wet pavement and old buildings, trying to figure out the best way to broach the subject of Kevin O’Reilly and his missing boyfriend. I knew it would require diplomacy and tact.

“You’re tired,” Jake said, sliding back into the booth. There was a disarmingly soft note in his voice. “You should have taken today off.”

If anyone else had said that to me, I’d have been instantly irritated. Somehow Jake pointing out the truth didn’t affect me the same way. Maybe because along with that intimate tone, he was so matter-of-fact. People got tired and took days off. It wasn’t just me or some personal weakness on my part.

“If you were taking it off, I probably would have. Speaking of which, why are we still talking about me? How’d your meeting go?”

He grinned and held up his mug. “I’ve got a new client.”

“That’s great!” I clinked my whipped-cream-topped coffee mug against his. “Congratulations.”

“Maybe I won’t have to take you up on that offer of free office space for a year.”

My smile faded. “Come on. That’s a Christmas gift, not a business arrangement.”

“You need the money as much as I do.”

Well, no. I mean, yes. But no. I wasn’t trying to buy out an ex-wife’s share in my house and my retirement. Jake was.

I studied the stubborn jut of his jaw—a look I remembered too well. It was important to him to pay his own way. I got it. Completely. That said, this was something I could do to make his life easier—and therefore mine—so it was a gift to both of us really.

I said, “It’s a gift, Jake. I want to do it.”

He looked unconvinced. Into his hesitation, I asked, “What’s the case?”

“Missing person. Thank God.”

Thank God that it wasn’t another cheating spouse, that’s what he meant. Infidelity depressed him, which I imagine a shrink would have had a field day with.

“A runaway?” It was a horrible time of year for that—not that there was a good time of year.

“No. Possible endangered adult. The family wants to keep it quiet, so they haven’t brought in the cops.” His mouth had a cynical curve. “You know the breed. Wealthy West Valleyites.”

Uh, yeah. I was the breed. Or descended from breeding stock, anyway.

Gradually what he was saying sank in on me. I blinked at him. “Wait. West Valley?”

“That’s right.”

“A missing adult son?”

“Yeah.”

I said slowly, uneasily, “What’s the name of the family?”

“Arbuckle,” Jake said.