Chapter Thirty-Seven

Margo Angelhart

Theo came by my house early Wednesday morning. He was a tall clean-shaven black kid with a conservative haircut and easygoing manner.

"Why are you here?" I asked when I opened the door. "I'm on my way out."

"Thought you might want backup." He grinned broadly. Theo was a hard person to get angry with, but right now I was irritated.

"I don't need backup."

"You need someone to watch your ass with that angry cop running around."

"I should never have told you about that," I muttered.

"Seriously."

"I'm helping Jack with a case, and I need to go—without you."

I bolted the front door, checked my new security system to make sure it was functioning, and motioned for Theo to follow me to the side door.

"This is nice," he said, running his finger along the server that ran the six security cameras. I slapped his hand.

"Don't touch."

"Maybe you should have—"

"Don't say it. Because yes, I should have had this in place before someone broke into my house."

"It's the barn door, baby. My grams always said no use closing the barn door after the horse has gone."

"I'm familiar with the expression." I grabbed my favorite folding KA-BAR knife from a drawer in the kitchen, stuffed it into my front pocket. "Let's go."

"Seriously, Margo, I want to help."

"You already did, and I don't need help today. Don't you have class?"

"Only Tuesdays and Thursdays."

Which I knew.

We walked out to the driveway and I locked the deadbolt. "Theo, I have a lead on Jennifer White, and I don't want or need company. But thanks."

"I'm bored. Give me something to do. And not busy work."

I considered, then said, "Go to my office. Check my mail. Talk to the other businesses, show them a photo of Peter Carillo and ask if they've seen him or the minivan anytime since Monday. I think the Orozcos have a security camera, so ask if you can check the feed. I know the liquor store has cameras, but Manny is an asshole, so 50/50 if he'll let you look. Document everything if there's anything to document, and then let me know what you find. Good?"

"Sounds like busy work."

"It's not. I was going to do it yesterday but got sidetracked with Jack's case." I wasn't lying.

"Alright, fine, but you need me for something else? Call."

"I promise."

Theo climbed into his car—a practical Honda that just didn't quite fit the kid—and I followed him out of the neighborhood. He turned left, toward my office. I went straight, toward the Biltmore area.

I wasn't lying when I said I had a lead on Jennifer, but it was a thin lead. One that I had to follow myself.

Miriam Endicott wasn't expecting me, but I walked right in anyway. She wasn't going to like what I had to say, but I didn't care.

She was in a meeting with a client, but Sherry alerted her and she was leaving her office as I approached. She closed the door. "Next time you walk past my receptionist without an appointment, I will have you arrested."

"Vincent Bonetti."

She flinched and I knew I was right. She scowled. "Out."

"He hired you to find his daughter, who is presumed dead."

Miriam grabbed my arm and pulled me into an empty office, closed the door. I stared at her hand gripping my bicep. "Three, two..."

She dropped it. "Stay out of my business," Miriam said.

"There's a reason Virginia faked her death," I said. "Leading her father to her isn't right."

"You don't know anything about this case," Miriam said through clenched teeth.

"Enlighten me."

"I'm under no obligation to enlighten you about anything."

"You're on the wrong side this time."

Miriam crossed her arms. "Perhaps you are." She paused, looked at me, her nose tilted up at an angle so sharp I wanted to break it. "You know, Margo," she said conversationally, "it might not be such a coincidence we're on opposite sides of this."

"What the hell does that mean?"

I'd thought a lot last night about who Jennifer/Virginia really was—why she faked her death, why she was on the run, whether she was in danger...or if she was dangerous.

I wouldn't have the answers until I talked to her.

"If you think about it, you'll figure it out. You should be asking yourself, why now? Why was my firm—the largest, most successful, most professional in the state—hired to find a woman presumed dead?"

"See you around," I said and turned to leave.

Miriam grabbed me again and this time I did slap her hand. She winced. I hadn't meant to hit her so hard, but I don't like being grabbed, so I didn't apologize. "Margo, let this go."

"You know me better than that."

I walked out.

I knew what Miriam had meant. It didn't take a rocket scientist to read between the lines. Why now?

Because Angelhart Investigations had been hired by Desert West and started running a background on Jennifer White. That background check took them to Florida. Poking around may have alerted her father that his daughter was still alive, though I wasn't quite sure how since she was using a different identity. Being out-of-state and a wealthy businessman, he would hire a company that catered to wealthy businesses.

I didn't know why Jennifer had faked her death—if she was the threat or her father—but Jennifer was the one with answers. I had to find her before Miriam.