off to sleep, clutching this meager consolation to my dysfunctional heart.
D ani pulls the Nissan up next to the Ballou’s front door. She wasn’t thrilled when I explained that I needed to make a quick stop for my backpack, but she agreed on the condition that she go with me.
I wave a quick hello to Yaji, the barista, as I head up the back stairs to my office. Dani squeezes past me, the hand under her leather jacket no doubt resting on her gun. She gestures at me to keep quiet as we ascend the stairs. This time yesterday, I’d have rolled my eyes at her excessive caution, but this time yesterday I didn’t know there was a contract out on my life.
As she rounds the stairwell corner, she stops suddenly, causing me to run into her, and says sharply, “Who are you? Why are you here?”
I lean to the right so I can look over Dani’s shoulder. Mrs. Antolini is standing next to the closed office door, clutching her purse like it’s about to get snatched. Dani’s shoulder stiffens as if she’s about to draw her gun.
“Mrs. Antolini,” I say loudly in Dani’s ear as I step around her. “How nice to see you.”
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here,” Mrs. Antolini says, her voice quavering. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
“What happened?” I ask as I unlock the door to my office and usher her inside. I hear Dani’s grunt of disapproval, but really, it’s just Mrs. Antolini. And anyway, who ever heard of a hit attempt at seven-thirty in the morning? Dani follows us in and shuts and locks the door behind her. Then she stations herself by the front window to monitor traffic in and out of the coffee shop.
“I got your message,” Mrs. Antolini began. “I know you said you couldn’t take the case, but I’m hoping you’ll reconsider.”
“Mrs. Antolini, I’d love to help you, but…” But someone is trying to kill me, and I really can’t add a possibly evil corporation to the list of Julep haters right now. “But something’s come up and I don’t have the time to devote to your case.”
“I know it’s probably far-fetched. You probably think I’m crazy—”
“Not at all,” I say, reaching across my desk for her hand. “In fact, I know you’re on to something. That’s why I can’t take the case. I can’t give it the time and attention it deserves.”
“It’s just, I don’t trust anyone else. There’s something I haven’t told you yet. It only occurred to me last night after I got your message.”
“I’m sorry, I—” I start. Then I make the mistake of looking at her devastated expression and cave like the softy I am. But really, how much damage could looking at one piece of information do? Maybe it would help me steer her toward a better PI for the job. “All right, what is it?”
She opens her purse and pulls out an envelope. “I didn’t think anything of it until I saw on the news about that shooting outside the bar.”
The bottom drops out of my stomach and I reach for the envelope. I pull out a stack of receipts with Bar63 printed at the top. A folded sheet of paper shows an accounting of every expense corresponding to the receipts. The NWI logo is printed in the top-right corner of the expense report. The receipts are dated from before the bar officially opened.
“Where did you get this?” I ask.
“My husband’s files. Apparently, he wasn’t just a member of New World Initiative. He did some work for them on the side that I didn’t know about. Something having to do with that bar.”
I lean back in my chair, staring at the receipts and expense report. What could Bar63 possibly have to do with the New World Initiative? The only thing that connects them is…the blue fairy.
“Please, Ms. Dupree.”
I lift my gaze to her face, and then farther up to Dani, who is shaking her head at me.
“All right, Mrs. Antolini,” I say, standing. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you so much,” she gushes, grabbing my hand.
D ani pulls the Nissan up next to the Ballou’s front door. She wasn’t thrilled when I explained that I needed to make a quick stop for my backpack, but she agreed on the condition that she go with me.
I wave a quick hello to Yaji, the barista, as I head up the back stairs to my office. Dani squeezes past me, the hand under her leather jacket no doubt resting on her gun. She gestures at me to keep quiet as we ascend the stairs. This time yesterday, I’d have rolled my eyes at her excessive caution, but this time yesterday I didn’t know there was a contract out on my life.
As she rounds the stairwell corner, she stops suddenly, causing me to run into her, and says sharply, “Who are you? Why are you here?”
I lean to the right so I can look over Dani’s shoulder. Mrs. Antolini is standing next to the closed office door, clutching her purse like it’s about to get snatched. Dani’s shoulder stiffens as if she’s about to draw her gun.
“Mrs. Antolini,” I say loudly in Dani’s ear as I step around her. “How nice to see you.”
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here,” Mrs. Antolini says, her voice quavering. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
“What happened?” I ask as I unlock the door to my office and usher her inside. I hear Dani’s grunt of disapproval, but really, it’s just Mrs. Antolini. And anyway, who ever heard of a hit attempt at seven-thirty in the morning? Dani follows us in and shuts and locks the door behind her. Then she stations herself by the front window to monitor traffic in and out of the coffee shop.
“I got your message,” Mrs. Antolini began. “I know you said you couldn’t take the case, but I’m hoping you’ll reconsider.”
“Mrs. Antolini, I’d love to help you, but…” But someone is trying to kill me, and I really can’t add a possibly evil corporation to the list of Julep haters right now. “But something’s come up and I don’t have the time to devote to your case.”
“I know it’s probably far-fetched. You probably think I’m crazy—”
“Not at all,” I say, reaching across my desk for her hand. “In fact, I know you’re on to something. That’s why I can’t take the case. I can’t give it the time and attention it deserves.”
“It’s just, I don’t trust anyone else. There’s something I haven’t told you yet. It only occurred to me last night after I got your message.”
“I’m sorry, I—” I start. Then I make the mistake of looking at her devastated expression and cave like the softy I am. But really, how much damage could looking at one piece of information do? Maybe it would help me steer her toward a better PI for the job. “All right, what is it?”
She opens her purse and pulls out an envelope. “I didn’t think anything of it until I saw on the news about that shooting outside the bar.”
The bottom drops out of my stomach and I reach for the envelope. I pull out a stack of receipts with Bar63 printed at the top. A folded sheet of paper shows an accounting of every expense corresponding to the receipts. The NWI logo is printed in the top-right corner of the expense report. The receipts are dated from before the bar officially opened.
“Where did you get this?” I ask.
“My husband’s files. Apparently, he wasn’t just a member of New World Initiative. He did some work for them on the side that I didn’t know about. Something having to do with that bar.”
I lean back in my chair, staring at the receipts and expense report. What could Bar63 possibly have to do with the New World Initiative? The only thing that connects them is…the blue fairy.
“Please, Ms. Dupree.”
I lift my gaze to her face, and then farther up to Dani, who is shaking her head at me.
“All right, Mrs. Antolini,” I say, standing. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you so much,” she gushes, grabbing my hand.
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