Page 38 of Morally Corrupt

"Really? That's your best advice? What if she lies again?"

"I still don't think she's cheating. She's not the type."

"I know, and that's what baffles me. What is she hiding?"

"Simple. Get someone to follow her around. See what she's up to."

I sigh. "What if I don't want to find out?"

"That's up to you. I can get you hooked with a man to watch her. I trust him implicitly, and he owes me a favor." When he says that, I can only raise my eyebrows. Marcel has some questionable connections, one of them being the same Vlad who rules over Brighton Beach.

"Who is it?"

"My cousin Rico." He smiles. "He's a hustler. And I told you, he owes me."

"I don't know. I want to meet him first."

"Fair enough, let me give him a call."

Marcel stands, placing the rest of the files on my desk before leaving. I groan. Am I becoming one of those people who have their wives followed? Is this getting out of hand?

Close to the end of the day, as I head towards my car, Marcel gives me a call.

"We're in the back," he says and hangs up. I leave my car and head around to the back to find Marcel in his immaculate suit, standing next to what can only be described as a punk. I take a moment to observe both of them, looking for the similarities that would make them family. Marcel's hair is a sandy blonde with olive skin and amber eyes. Eyes he shares with this Rico. But his cousin is on the fairer side, with light-blond hair and pale skin. Their builds are similar, both of them relatively tall and muscular, but the way they carry themselves and their clothing make all the difference.

Marcel always looks stiff and put together, secretive and mysterious. He never has a hair out of place. The punk is dressed casually, his stance relaxed, and his mouth sports a constant grin. Rico must be in his late teens, early twenties, and the carefree of the youth is reflected in his face.

"This is Rico." Marcel motions to his cousin abruptly, very Marcel-like.

"Nice to meet you." I offer my hand, and he shakes it, giving Marcel the eye. I want to ask him if he's involved in anything illegal. It's just a feeling I got.

"I filled him in on the topic."

"Don't worry, dude, I got you," the punk drawls.

"I'll have Marcel hand you a copy of her usual schedule, but you should really follow her around from the moment she leaves the house."

"Not my first rodeo. I got you." Rico winks before turning his back and getting into a beat-up car. He gives us a hand gesture meant to say goodbye and mockingly addresses Marcel.

"Later, cub!" He takes off.

"You sure you trust him?" I ask Marcel again.

"He's… different. But he can do it, don't worry."

"Good," I say, but I don't know if I mean it. Is any of this good?

"He'll start tomorrow. I told him to call you if there's anything out of the ordinary and not like her regular routine."

"God, I just hope I won't regret this."

"Hey," Marcel starts and puts his hand on my shoulder. The entire gesture is shocking in itself because Marcel always avoids touching others. I look at him and see his consternation.

"It's going to be all right."

I just nod.

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