a new case soaring through my veins. New cases meant new bad guys to catch and I always thought that this had to be how a cop felt like when he was close to catching a killer.
“Hey, what did Banks want?”
I looked up to find my best friend Christina at my desk, her lean frame stretched tightly as she attempted to pull back her curly blonde hair into a ponytail. I loved her hair, a steep contrast to my straight brown hair. Christina and I had been friends ever since our first day in college, bumping into one another in the library. From then on, we had been through a lot together and I wouldn’t know what to do without her. “I just got another job, a sleepover at that,” I answered finally, smoothing my hands over the folder. “Did you talk to Banks today or just stare at his ass in those pants?”
Christina punched me hard in the shoulder, her eyes shifting around to see who else had heard my statement. It was a joke between us, more on my part than hers. She really did have a crush on our boss, but was unwilling to jeopardize her job to see if he had any feelings for her. I couldn’t blame her. This job was the best one I had ever had and the last four years working for Brian had been pretty awesome. Though he was a stickler for details, we pretty much could do whatever we wanted within context. Brian had been a private investigator first, unlike Christina and myself, and realized quickly that it didn’t pay well enough. So he went back to school, got an accounting degree, and decided to combine the two. Christina and I had thought we were in for a long career of crunching numbers, but Brian had taken us both and molded us into PI licensed, undercover accountants.
The firm also took on other accounts from various larger firms when an investigation was warranted, but for the most part we stayed busy enough with the accounts Brian actually managed.
“Shove it, Rach,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest with a glare. “I do not ogle our boss.”
I laughed and held up my hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m paid to observe, remember?”
“Well, I wish he would throw a case my way,” Christina said instead, irritation written all over her face. “All I’m doing is babysitting accounts.”
“Well, I don’t know what I got here,” I replied, opening the file. “But it must be big for a trip to Miami.”
“God, you’re so lucky,” she sighed as I glanced over the standard fact sheet that every file started with, neatly typed by Brian’s assistant, Jeanne. The sheet contained the name of the business, the owners, and an address as well as what the problem was. As I scanned it, a familiar name jumped off of the page, one that I hadn’t seen in a long, long time. Oh boy.
“What?” Christina asked, causing me to realize I had spoken aloud.
“Nothing,” I said quickly, closing the file. “Just looks complicated, that’s all.”
She gave me a look that told me she really didn’t believe me but she didn’t say anything and walked away. I breathed a small sigh of relief, glad that I wouldn’t have to explain myself just yet.
Swallowing hard, I reopened the file, reading the fact sheet closer, a knot forming in my chest. The business was Louden Real Estate, a mega successful realty business based on the numbers I could see. With the housing market in Miami, I wasn’t too surprised. It was expensive to live there. The business was co-owned, but one name stuck out to me.
Garrett Louden.
It was like a blast from my past, a name I hadn’t seen or thought about since I was thirteen, a gangly kid who was socially awkward and shy. Garrett had been my next door neighbor, both of us living along with the rest of the middle class on the outskirts of Jacksonville city limits. Both of our families were part of the working class, our fathers working to make a living in the same paper mill. I remembered growing up in Garrett’s living room, his mom babysitting the both of us while my own mom worked
“Hey, what did Banks want?”
I looked up to find my best friend Christina at my desk, her lean frame stretched tightly as she attempted to pull back her curly blonde hair into a ponytail. I loved her hair, a steep contrast to my straight brown hair. Christina and I had been friends ever since our first day in college, bumping into one another in the library. From then on, we had been through a lot together and I wouldn’t know what to do without her. “I just got another job, a sleepover at that,” I answered finally, smoothing my hands over the folder. “Did you talk to Banks today or just stare at his ass in those pants?”
Christina punched me hard in the shoulder, her eyes shifting around to see who else had heard my statement. It was a joke between us, more on my part than hers. She really did have a crush on our boss, but was unwilling to jeopardize her job to see if he had any feelings for her. I couldn’t blame her. This job was the best one I had ever had and the last four years working for Brian had been pretty awesome. Though he was a stickler for details, we pretty much could do whatever we wanted within context. Brian had been a private investigator first, unlike Christina and myself, and realized quickly that it didn’t pay well enough. So he went back to school, got an accounting degree, and decided to combine the two. Christina and I had thought we were in for a long career of crunching numbers, but Brian had taken us both and molded us into PI licensed, undercover accountants.
The firm also took on other accounts from various larger firms when an investigation was warranted, but for the most part we stayed busy enough with the accounts Brian actually managed.
“Shove it, Rach,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest with a glare. “I do not ogle our boss.”
I laughed and held up my hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m paid to observe, remember?”
“Well, I wish he would throw a case my way,” Christina said instead, irritation written all over her face. “All I’m doing is babysitting accounts.”
“Well, I don’t know what I got here,” I replied, opening the file. “But it must be big for a trip to Miami.”
“God, you’re so lucky,” she sighed as I glanced over the standard fact sheet that every file started with, neatly typed by Brian’s assistant, Jeanne. The sheet contained the name of the business, the owners, and an address as well as what the problem was. As I scanned it, a familiar name jumped off of the page, one that I hadn’t seen in a long, long time. Oh boy.
“What?” Christina asked, causing me to realize I had spoken aloud.
“Nothing,” I said quickly, closing the file. “Just looks complicated, that’s all.”
She gave me a look that told me she really didn’t believe me but she didn’t say anything and walked away. I breathed a small sigh of relief, glad that I wouldn’t have to explain myself just yet.
Swallowing hard, I reopened the file, reading the fact sheet closer, a knot forming in my chest. The business was Louden Real Estate, a mega successful realty business based on the numbers I could see. With the housing market in Miami, I wasn’t too surprised. It was expensive to live there. The business was co-owned, but one name stuck out to me.
Garrett Louden.
It was like a blast from my past, a name I hadn’t seen or thought about since I was thirteen, a gangly kid who was socially awkward and shy. Garrett had been my next door neighbor, both of us living along with the rest of the middle class on the outskirts of Jacksonville city limits. Both of our families were part of the working class, our fathers working to make a living in the same paper mill. I remembered growing up in Garrett’s living room, his mom babysitting the both of us while my own mom worked
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