Page 25 of Shadowed Obsession

Once again,the Hales are late for our meeting. Their voices travel up the hall, bickering like children, calling each other “bellends,” whatever the fuck that means. I’m not sure what they’re upset about today, and I don’t care. It’s a debriefing that should be over quickly since Ms. Klarke still leavesa lotto the imagination, despite the fact that I’ve surveilled her for the past six weeks.

On paper, Deirdre reads unbelievably clean for a mafia princess, but my instincts believe otherwise. Her family’s name holds entirely too much weight for her to be in this role without dirtying her hands.

Except intuition doesn’t solve cases, evidence does. And the lack of it isn’t helping me get any closer to wrapping this shit up. As frustrating as that is, the thought of sticking around a bit longer isn’t the worst thing.

Mi abuelahas thankfully been less stubborn lately, listening to my sister and I about her diet. Her doctor has been pleased and assured us at this rate, it’s possible that we could have a bit more time with her.

That news makes me feel less guilty for taking this assignment and somewhat enjoying it. After all, Deirdre has become a part of my routine, and I pride myself on being disciplined.

I’ve found more about her relatives, which could be the leverage I need to blackmail her, giving my clients exactly what they need to win this bid. And while I’ve gone against protocolegregiously, crossing many lines for reasons I’m unsure of, I still intend to do my job. My family comes first.

She surprised me as a worthy opponent in this game of cat and mouse. Or lion and deer, in our case. A folktale with two possible endings, and the lion gets the raw end of the deal in both. If I’m not careful, the deer will outsmart me. I can’t allow that to happen.

Deirdre will be fine and can continue to do whatever the fuck it is she does. After I close this case, she’ll move on and find someone more acclimated to her lifestyle. I’ll pay off my sister’s tuition, and if we’re lucky,Abuelawill be able to see her graduate.

And when the time comes, I’ll be able to honor her with the proper memorial in San Juan she’s asked for. I know better than to let my moral compass stand in the way of what’s best for those I loveandprovide for.

I stand to greet them when the door swings open. Dara leads with determined steps across the carpet to shake my hand, followed by Dax, who addresses me by name with correct pronunciation. They sit opposite each other at the conference table and stare expectantly at me.

“What’ve you got for us, mate?” Dax asks, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

“Well, she had some interesting dealings in Brooklyn and was a person of interest in her boyfriend’s death last year.”

“Bloody hell. Even she doesn’t seem capable of murder,” Dax says, mussing his hair.

I agree, I think. Vowing to keep my opinions out of this, stating facts only.

My eyes catch on Dara’s hands, absentmindedly tearing at her cuticles as I speak.

And I thought Deirdre was an anxious girl.

“Her name was cleared quickly, and the cause of death revealed no foul play. She had an airtight alibi. Wasn’t even in the same state when the death occurred,” I clarify, looking directly at Dara so she’ll stop picking at herself.

She lets out a relieved sigh. “I suppose that’s good,” she says, straightening her spine and folding her hands on the desk.

“It isn’t, really. If she’s clean as a whistle, where does that leave us with the property bid? Surely, after all this time, you’ve foundsomethingwe can actually use. Her family is full of murderers, for fuck’s sake.”

“At least between all the killing, they make a damn good whiskey,” Dara adds with a chuckle.

Dax stares daggers over the desk, asking, “And how would you know that?”

“Because I’ve tried it, of course. How do we expect to beat the competition if we’re unaware of what they bring to the table?” She scoffs. “Excuse my brother, he’s a bit soft in the head.” She snaps to herself, rhetorically asking, “What do you Americans call it? A dickhead?”

Here they go again.

I don’t bother responding, because it’s no use and I was wrong for assuming the argument I overheard would cease for the sake of this meeting. I’d walk out if I wasn’t being paid to be here.

“And Daddy thinks numpty here is the better leader,” she teases with an eye roll, all prior anxiousness gone.

“Piss off,” he retorts with a scowl. “Twat.”

“Not my fault you’re a fucking Muppet.”

“Are you two done? I don’t have all day,” I interrupt, my knee bouncing with impatience.

“Ah. Sorry. What else?” she asks, waving her hand as if to move the conversation along.

“I did find something interesting. Her relation to Regina Delvecchio, a crime boss who is well known for beingfarmore dangerous than Deirdre. Better known as ‘The Devil in The Daylight’ for being an unsuspecting terror who hides in plain sight. She’s a grieving wife and mother with an alleged affinity for arson and murder.”

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