Page 87 of Fiona and the Fixer

I ground my teeth together, then rinsed the can in the sink and tossed it into the recycle bin.

“Dig deeper,” I ordered.

“Now?”

“Now.”

He sighed but got to work. I heard the clattering of his keyboard as I freshened Pancake’s water bowl.

“Fiona Whitaker. Twenty-nine. Mother: Anne Whitaker Genovese.”

So she took her mother’s maiden name.

“Dead. Father: Vincent Genovese. Serving a life sentence at–holy shit. She put him away.”

I sighed. “Yeah, we missed a few things. I need you to find out who we know on the inside. Same prison.”

He knew what I was wanting. “On it. I can dig into her banking, mortgage, car payments, credit cards if you want.”

The doorbell rang and I glanced in that direction. It wasn’t Fiona because she didn’t know I was staying here.

“No. I don’t care about any of that. I need you to look into something else.”

“Sure.”

“The Pickle Hole. It’s a pickle shop here in Coal Springs. It’s a front for Fentanyl running. I want to know everything.”

“I thought you were cat sitting for Jack.”

“So did I.”

When I opened the door, I found Brittany on the stoop.

“I thought you were out of town,” I said to her instead of hello.

She gave me a little wave, then pushed past me and into the house. As Hannah’s BFF and lived in town, she was comfortable here. “There’s only so much talk of plaque and gum disease I can take before I lose my mind.”

“I can only imagine.” I’d rather toss dead bodies off a cliff than be a dentist.

“How’s it going here?” she asked. “Thought I’d check in. I got a text that you’re cat sitting.”

“Pancake is still alive, and Hannah and Jack are coming back early.”

Her eyes widened with panic. “What? Why? Is everything okay?”

I held up my hand. “Hannah and Jack are fine. Thistown? I was supposed to be taking a break. That didn’t work out.”

“What does–”

Nitro cleared his throat. “Dax, um, who’s your friend?”

I angled my phone toward Brittany. “Say hi to Nitro,” I told her.

She looked from me to the phone. Leaned in. Waved at Nitro. “Hi, I’m Brittany.”

“Hannah’s best friend,” Nitro replied. He knew all the players when it came to Jack and Hannah. “Dentist. Former Texan.”

She smiled. There’d been talk once–really, only once when we’d all had a few drinks–that Brittany and I should get together. The two best friends. We’d shared a look over that topic and without a word being spoken between us, silently agreed it was never going to happen.

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