Page 10 of Dirty Liars

“A hundred bucks?” I asked. “Do you know what the county pays me? I’ll bet twenty. I know my limits. Maybe you could use the other eighty to buy me lunch. Or do you just plan to starve your unborn child?”

“You just had two scones,” Jack said. “And I saw you sneak that other one in your bag.”

“A scone isn’t lunch,” I said. “I want gyros.”

“At this rate people are going to know you’re pregnant in no time,” Jack said under his breath.

“What was that?” I asked, not sure I’d heard him correctly.

“I said is there anything else?”

I stared at him, not sure I believed him, but he had his blank face on that he used when he played poker.

“No,” I said. “I’m a simple woman. And I can always be bought with food.”

“Our bank account thanks you,” Jack said. “Gyros are much cheaper than diamonds. Though I’m not sure it’s best for long-term investing.”

“Are you kidding? What’s more long-term investing than feeding your unborn child a gyro? Think about how cute and fat he’ll be when he comes out.”

“Well, in that case,” Jack said, turning into Gyro Heroes and pulling into the drive-thru line.

While we waited, Jack put in a call to Lieutenant Derby in IT.

“Hey, Sheriff,” Derby said. “Heard you caught a good one this morning.”

“Something like that,” Jack said. “Have you had a chance to run backgrounds on our victims?”

“I just emailed them to you about two minutes ago,” Derby said. “You recognize the last name Vasilios?”

“Never heard of it,” Jack said.

“Me either, but apparently Theo’s father was the ambassador to Greece under the last administration. You’re going to get pushback on this one.”

“He’s not an ambassador anymore,” Jack said. “I’d hope he’d want me to find out what happened to his son and new daughter-in-law.”

“Yeah, well, maybe he’ll surprise you,” Derby said. “Here’s what I’ve got on the vic. Theo Vasilios is forty-six years old and moved to Newcastle full-time last year. He’s got a couple-million-dollar house and an owner’s stake in a few restaurants that don’t bring in the kind of revenue to make that house payment.”

“Maybe he’s got family money,” Jack said. “We’ll check his financials. So we’ve got a dead Greek playboy and his new young wife.”

“His nineteen-year-old wife,” Derby said.

Jack’s brows rose at that. “Unusual, but not illegal. What’s her story?”

“That’s where things get interesting,” Derby said. “Cursory background report shows the cleanest history of all histories. Not even a parking ticket.”

“She is only nineteen,” Jack said wryly. “Hold on a second, Derby.”

Jack paused and put in our orders at the window.

“I wouldn’t mind a gyro,” Derby said. “Extra tzatziki sauce.”

Jack’s lips twitched, but he added to our order and then proceeded up the line. “Go ahead, Derby.”

“Where was I?” Derby asked.

“Chloe Vasilios,” Jack said. “She doesn’t even have a parking ticket.”

“Right,” he continued. “Get this. Her parents’ names are John and Jane Matthews, but they’re both listed as deceased as of last year. Car wreck. Looks like she was homeschooled. She’s got a driver’s license that lists a Texas address. No college. No employment history until last June. She worked at The Corner Café in DC for just under a month before she went to work for Theo Vasilios.”

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