Page 76 of Vicious Little Games

Fifteen minutes later, I’m a little confused when we pull to a stop on a sideroad next to a strip mall of closed businesses near the outskirts of town. The only lights on in any of them is the office of Alistair James, Private Investigator. Cass’s SUV is the sole vehicle in the lot, other than a black, classic Mustang.

“Is Alistair James the short guy Cass went on a date with?” I ask the two guards while wedging myself between their seats to stare out the window as if I’ll suddenly develop x-ray vision or some shit.

“Yep.” August nods from the passenger seat as we all stare out the front windshield.

“And he’s a PI? That little guy?”

“Yep.”

Why the hell would he invite her to his office for a date?

“Did they go to dinner yet?”

“They finished eating at Mizu Japanese Restaurant and Sushi Bar almost an hour ago,” August replies.

“They’ve been in his office for an hour?” I exclaim while reaching for the door handle…that’s locked.

“Let me out before I come over this seat and put your head through the windshield,” I warn Mike.

August swivels in his seat to glare at me in the dark interior. “What happened to just observing?”

Before I can answer him, movement draws my eye back to the office. Cass and the shrimp are walking out the front door together, without a single guard. They stop right outside the door where she turns around and…hugs him. That’s it, just a hug. No kiss. I can tell from the distance there wasn’t even a peck on the cheek.

I knew it!

There’s never going to be anything other than friendly vibes between the two. And if the shrimp is a PI, then he’s probably working on Madison’s missing person case.

“What’s the play here, buddy?” Mike asks. “You gonna go rob the little PI at gunpoint like you did her last date?”

“Nah, he’s not a threat.”

“Then why was she here for an hour?”

“It looks like it’s strictly business between them. Possibly…friendship.” I don’t even like to say that word or think about Cass enjoying spending time with a man who isn’t me.

She thankfully climbs into her SUV, and it pulls away a moment later.

Before we can follow, the apparently very observant shrimp suddenly starts walking in our direction.

“Shit. He made us. Should we bail?” Mike asks.

“Nah.” I press the button to roll down my window to find out what he wants.

“You’re Cole Brooks, right?”

Whenever someone says my last name now, it feels like a lie, even if all my personal documents are technically legit. Brooks isn’t the name I would’ve been given if my mother hadn’t run away. Still, it’s better than the alternative.

“Or should I call you Cole Petrov?”

“Brooks is fine,” I tell the little guy. “Why did you bring Cass here tonight?”

Smiling at me pleasantly, he says, “If she wants you to know why she was here then she’ll tell you.”

“Do you have news on Madison?”

Sighing as if in defeat as he glances to the office’s front windows, he says, “No updates on Madison, unfortunately. I gave Cass what I had on her mother Charlotte.”

Cass’s mother? Jesus. That’s an old case.

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