Page 5 of Rules of Engagement

"What would happen if I discover she is planning to do that?" I asked as gently as I could.

Francesca sighed "I would have no choice but to fire her. I don't want to. She's been a terrific asset and I don't want to lose her; but I can't allow her to destroy me either! If she is planning a takeover, I could never trust her again."

"Tell me everything you know about Keira and I'll find out what I can," I assured her. "I have some free time so I'll look into it today."

"Really? You'd really do that?" Francesca brightened.

"Absolutely. It'll help me work off all the cake I ate."

"I'll pay you, of course. I'm not asking you to work off the books. That would be shady, especially given what I've just told you."

"I don't think Solomon will mind," I assured her. "I like to take a pro bono case every once in a while."

"Why don't I give you a discount then for your wedding plans? How does twenty percent off sound?" asked Francesca.

I mentally calculated how much the wedding would cost. My math wasn't great but when it came to calculating discounts, I magically morphed into a human computer. I'd never be able to determine a rocket's trajectory to the moon, but I could definitely work out the benefits of a buy-one-get-one-free, or half off, and certainly, any twenty percent discount! If I were into couponing, I'd probably never get anything else done. "Sounds fine to me," I agreed. "I'll need a few more details to get you an answer as soon as I can, but I have to warn you, you might not like what I find."

"Anything has to be better than the stress of worrying so much," said Francesca.

~

By the time I sprinted to my car, I was mere seconds away from a parking ticket. But thankfully, I also had two pages of notepaper filled with pertinent details about Keira Bell, and a smiling, professional image of her face that I snapped with my cellphone.

I couldn't be certain but I thought Francesca looked less worried when I left, almost like the potential relief of getting an actual answer must have reduced some of the strain. What she told me didn't sound that terrible but I had to agree that her assistant might have been plotting a move on her business. According to Francesca, Keira had taken four vacation days, which Francesca suspected Keira was actually using to work out a business plan and a way to possibly steal her vendors for an inevitable, new competing business.

Instead of returning to the agency's offices to finish up the small amount of paperwork I had left from my previous impostor-slash-missing person case, I decided to swing by Keira's house.

Keira lived in a very smart, brick duplex with matching wooden shutters at every window that mirrored its twin side perfectly. The door was painted in a very stylish gray and flanked with identical potted olive trees. Each side of the duplex had a one-car driveway. The left side had a Mini parked in it. Keira's side was empty. I parked my car and watched from the street for a little while but no one crossed a window or showed any evidence of being home.

The neighborhood was a nice one, and on the more expensive end of the housing market. Lily lived nearby with her husband — my brother, Jord — and their baby, Poppy. Judging from the house prices, I decided Keira must have bought the home during her previous career. Francesca's salary couldn't have solely supported the mortgage on a house located here. If Keira were smart, she would have paid off as much as she could before deciding to change careers. That was all supposition since I had no idea about Keira's background. She could have come from a wealthy family or be renting with a roommate.

I consulted my notes. Francesca said Keira didn't have a boyfriend or any roommates that she knew of so there was no point in my knocking on the door and attempting to question anyone about her whereabouts. That was a shame because I really needed to know where she was. Following a person got super awkward when I couldn't find them; and I didn't want to waste all afternoon and evening being parked outside. Someone would surely get suspicious and I'd already had my fill of patrol cars that were driven by my family members being sent out to check up on the dubious brunette in the black car.

Pulling a U-turn in the empty road, I headed back toward the agency where there was one person who could find anyone, anywhere, anytime. Actually, there were a bunch of skilled people employed there who could find anyone, but I was only interested in talking to one of them.

First, however, I stopped by my desk and hauled my laptop out of the drawer I locked it in. A few days ago, I forgot to put it away and someone had installed a picture of a clown as a screensaver. The picture gave me a nightmare, mostly because I was sure I had the same lipstick as the clown and my subconscious mind cruelly decided to turn me into a clown. I had to buy four new lipsticks before I even felt slightly better.

Logging in, I ran a background check on Keira Bell. While I waited for the information to appear, I fixed my gaze on the man studiously working at his desk across the room in the shared PI's office.

Antonio Delgado was one of life's nice guys, disguised in the body of someone you'd have been terrified to meet in a dark alley. He was also one of Solomon's closest friends and soon to be my brother-in-law, after drawing the short straw in life and landing my sister for his fiancée. Not that he thought so. He seemed damn pleased about gaining an instant family in Serena and her baby daughter, Victoria. Serena was divorced, thanks to her suspicion that her awful husband was cheating on her, and having tasked me with the job of proving it. It wasn’t hard to prove, nor particularly satisfying, but I was glad she had a great man like Delgado at her side now.

"No," he said without turning around.

"What? I didn't say a thing."

"You thought something loudly and I figured 'no' was the safest answer." He sat back in his chair and spun around, folding his arms.

"I was going to ask you about the wedding plans."

This time, Delgado grinned. "It's going to be beautiful," he said, his eyes lighting up with the joy of being overrun by Serena's insistence on all the decision-making. "We're writing our own vows."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Wait, am I supposed to tell you that?" He grabbed a notepad from his backpack on the floor and flipped open the cover, sliding a finger down the page. "Damn!" he said.

I pulled a face. "Did Serena give you a list of wedding plans you're not allowed to discuss with me?"

"Would you still respect me if I said yes?"

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