modern woman." She looked around. "Where's your father?"
"Putting his robe on. His clothes were soaked."
"Oh, I didn't notice."
"Can't think why not," I said with a shake of my head. "Shall I take you both to lunch now Arnie has gone?"
"Everything's ruined here; so that sounds great. I can tidy later. Let me tell your father he can't wear his robe."
We walked to a deli that opened before I was born; and soon became a firm favorite with many local families. We grabbed a table by the window.
"Why aren't you working?" asked my dad. "Is work slow? Do you need a loan?"
"Actually, I have a big case."
"A big one?" Mom asked as I handed her a menu. "A money case? Can you pay your bills? Do you need a loan?"
"Yes. Maybe. Yes, and no. In that order."
"Which order did I ask in?" she asked.
I scanned the menu. "I don't need a loan, but I do need some help."
"Really?" my mother asked incredulously. "For?"
"Surveillance help. Lily suggested I ask you."
"We did ace Spy 101," Mom said proudly as Dad coughed. "And your father was a detective."
"I know. I saw your certificates and I do actually know Dad. Can you help watch a house for a few hours?"
"Watch it do what?"
"Not the house, but all the people coming to and going from the house."
"Can't you ask the owners?"
"I'm trying to be discreet!"
"Don't they know you're watching them?" My mother leaned in, the menu temporarily forgotten. "Are they criminals? Is this like Breaking Bad ?"
"No, well, everyone thinks one of them is a criminal, but she's my client; and I'm trying to help her."
"Are they cooking meth? Apparently, all kinds of people are doing that now."
"No! This is not Breaking Bad !"
"Do you remember Jeffrey Carlton from high school? He lived three blocks over. He's doing ten years for cooking meth."
"Dumb kid," muttered my dad.
"Jeffrey Carlton?" The name brought back memories of a loud and arrogant kid from elementary school who only became louder and more arrogant in high school. He largely left me alone, but had a huge crush on Lily. Back then, every boy did. Except Jord, which probably explained why she married him. She always liked a challenge.
"Sold meth to two police officers," Mom continued. "I saw Maureen in the supermarket and she heard it from Esther, who heard it from Jeffrey's aunt. His mother was just so upset. I thought about taking her a pie, but I wasn't sure if she had the meth munchies, and I'd just be feeding an addiction."
"Meth munchies?" I frowned. "I don't know if that exists. Plus, I don't think his mom is a tweaker."
"Maybe it's marijuana munchies?" Mom carried on. "Anyway, very sad. I'm so glad you never dated him. He's probably gay now anyway. Prison can do that to you."
"Tell us about your case," said Dad before Mom could pursue her tangent.
I mouthed my thanks to him as Mom picked up her menu, running her finger along the juices and smoothies.
"My client has a stalker who, we believe, has been inside her home. I need to watch for anyone coming or going so I can work out who has access and might be causing problems."
"You think it's someone close to her?" Dad guessed correctly.
I nodded. "It seems likely. I can't do all the surveillance. I need to interview people and chase down some leads; and I can't do that if I'm parked outside my client's house. Lily is taking a shift, and another friend will too. I thought if you weren't busy, Mom, maybe you'd like to help out? Put your spy training to use?"
How I said that with a straight face I'll never know, but I did, and my mother's expression was my reward. She looked thrilled as she grabbed my hand. "Yes, please," she whispered breathlessly as if I'd offered her an all expenses paid trip around the world. Dad coughed lightly. "Do I need to be armed?"
"No!" we both said loud enough for the next table to turn around and glare at us. "No," I said a little lighter. "No guns. All you need to do is sit in your car and watch the house."
Dad coughed again. I frowned at him.
"I
David Kahn
Susan Sizemore
Walter Basho
Alan Dean Foster
Autumn Christian
Conor Brady
A Most Devilish Rogue
Erin Butler
Michael Bray
Sara Wheeler