Page 32 of Regards, Mia

“I don’t fight anymore.”

“Okay, okay,” Cassandra says, letting it drop. “You can find someone else.”

“I might have someone in mind.”

“See? Don’t panic,” Cassandra says. “It’s going to be an amazing event.”

“Thanks, Cassandra.”

“No problem. Don’t forget to breathe. And if you need me to come to Mossy Oak, I’ll be there.”

“No. I’ve got this.” I don’t have a choice. The nurse who tookManny back comes down the hall, looking for me. “I’ve got to go.”

“I’m only a phone call away,” Cassandra says before hanging up.

I walk over to the nurse only to find out that Many has a broken hand just as I suspected. They are treating him and it will be another hour before he’s released.

“You can see him if you want,” she says.

I shake my head. He’s got his wife with him; he doesn’t need me.

As I’m leaving the hospital, my phone rings with a number I don’t recognize.

“Hello?”

“Is this Savage Security?” A man’s voice asks.

“Yes.” I haven’t had time for a job in months, and I don’t have time now. Luckily, I’m freelance and can pick and choose my clients. “What can I do for you?”

“This is Jordan Adler from the district attorney’s office. I’m reaching out to see if you have availability in your schedule to do a private security job for us.”

I push through the exit doors and walk through the parking lot to my truck. The fresh mountain breeze is a welcome change from the stale air in the hospital room.

“My schedule is pretty full.”

“The pay will be worth your while,” he says.

“How worth my while?”

He throws out a number that gets my attention. “What’s the timeline?”

“You’d have to start tonight,” he says.

My night is already over thanks to Manny and his broken hand. “I can arrange that. What’s the location?”

“I’ll text the address.”

My phone dings with the address, which is only a few blocks away in a part of town popular with young professionals. I can drive by and check it out on my way home to grab some gear.

I get a notepad and pen from my glove box. “Who’s the client?”

“She’s very important,” he says. “I need you to make sure she’s well taken care of. And you need to be discreet.”

“No problem.” Keeping my mouth shut is part of the job.

“Is it a witness?” I ask.

“No,” he says. “It’s a fellow prosecutor.”

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