Page 17 of Griz's Edge

MARLEY

Three Weeks Later . . .

“I don’t care how you have to go about this, I just want you to find my daughter.”

It’s all I can do to keep from sighing in frustration. The man on the phone just doesn’t seem to get that I’m not a bounty hunter or a private investigator. I don’t go find people like that. Not anymore. I learned my lesson before I moved here.

Sure, my job is to find people, but the difference between me and a bounty hunter is I can’t actually serve as a bounty hunter. Not anymore.

I gave up that part of my life, and I wasn’t going back to it. I made the decision that the day I moved out here to Tennessee, I was sticking strictly to skip traces and process serving. All you had to do with those two things is focus on research and have knowledge of databases. It was simple enough to serve papers for those who had to go to court. It wasn’t bad to handle finding people for the courts or even law firms. I’ve even done a couplefor debt collectors when they needed to find someone. The work was easy enough yet still a challenge for my mind.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t help you. If you want, I can refer you to someone who can,” I murmur, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I know several private investigators who would be more than happy to help you.”

“I don’t want anyone else to handle finding my daughter. I heard you were the best, and I’m hiring you to do it. I don’t care if you’re out of the game now or not. I want you to find my daughter,” the woman on the other end of the line snaps. “Now, you need to take down the information to find her.”

“Ma’am, again, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to find someone else. I can’t help you.”

It’s not exactly true, I could, but something about the way the woman spoke, she didn’t sound like a frantic parent. But rather a snooty one who demanded to have their way about everything. I hated working with people like that. Nine times out of ten, the results always ended with the people ran off to get away from them.The runaways always have a good reason, and right now would be no less because the person on the other line definitely isn’t fully concerned with finding the daughter as she should be. It probably has to do with the money she keeps bringing up.

Rolling my eyes, I quickly give the woman my recommendations and hang up before she can snap at me some more. No way was she going to convince me otherwise.

I give a sigh and toss the phone to my desk, my frustration growing even higher. In the past three weeks, that’s been happening a lot more and more. Which sucks. Big time.

I know where the frustration is rooted, and it ticks me off all the more because of it. How did I allow myself to let this happen?

I hadn’t heard from Griz since we texted after he left me all hot and bothered. At first, it hurt because he never showed forthe date he said he was taking me on. He hadn’t called. Didn’t text. Nothing.

I never reached out to find out why.

I wasn’t going to be one of those girls that clung to a man and demanded to know what happened and why he didn’t call.

My plan is to push it all down and move on.

Or that’s what I keep telling myself.

Which makes it even harder, because I don’t want to be one of those girls who falls hard for a guy when I don’t even know him. It’s like he’s under my skin in such a way that I don’t know how to get him out.

Last weekend, to try and get my mind off him, I went home to visit my mom and dad. It hadn’t helped. If anything, it made things worse for me.

Mostly because I’d asked my mom about the letters in the box Grandma Ryan gave me. I don’t think I’d ever seen my mom pale as she did. For that matter, seen my dad become as furious as he did.

I ended up leaving their house more upset. Sure, they called later to apologize, but I didn’t answer the call. I hadn’t spoken to them since. I just listened to the voicemails they’d left. They’d also sent a few text messages, none of which I responded to.

Sure, it might not be the best way to handle it. I should accept their apologies, and I have. My problem is the way they reacted to me telling them about the letters and the other stuff that had been in the box. It makes me want to dig into it further and figure out what had happened.

I hadn’t started to do so just yet. I’d been doing my best to stay busy with other things. Between helping Grandma Ryan and work, I’ve done well so far. But now, with it being Friday night and not having anything else to do this weekend, I ended up agreeing to go to dinner with Deputy Riggs. Thankfully,he didn’t mind me meeting him at the diner rather than him picking me up here.

I still can’t believe I ended up agreeing to dinner with him. Suppose I’m just tired of being home alone.

Shaking my head, I pick my phone back up. The thought of canceling crosses my mind as I check the time. Deputy Riggs suggested we meet there at six and here it is going on five now.

Great.

Guess I should get ready.

Hopping up from my office chair, I tuck it back in front of the desk and make my way out of my home office. To do what I do, I didn’t need to have anywhere else. I didn’t need some fancy office. That’s what’s great about being a freelance worker. I work where I want. I just have to go into the courthouse to grab whatever needs to be served for the day. Then I’m done. Some days, there’s nothing. Other days, there could be close to fifty or more.

I make my way through the little house to my room. It doesn’t take me long to pick out an outfit to wear. It might be a date with Riggs, but that doesn’t mean I can’t dress up for a date. Granted, dressing up for me isn’t much different from any other day.

---