Page 39 of Silent Vendetta (Vendetta Duet)

Barry fiddled with the pen between his fingers as my cell phone buzzed.

“I have a visitor joining us shortly,” I said, looking at the text.

Barry furrowed his eyebrows. “And who might that be?”

“We’ll get to that in a moment, but first, let me explain why I called you.” I leaned my elbows in front of the monitor, looking sternly into the video camera. “Our timeline just escalated. Now, I know what I’m about to say may sound extreme, but I need you to listen to me.”

Barry’s gaze was unwavering, showing that he was paying close attention.

“We have forty-eight hours to solve two cold cases.”

Barry sat back in his chair with an unreadable expression.

“And what cases would those be, sir?”

Fair enough. I had hired Barry to work on solving who had killed my father, but then I pulled him into helping me chase Franco and his team down. For all Barry knew, I was going down another rabbit hole here.

“The first is my father’s case.”

Barry scrubbed his jaw. “Your father’s case.”

“Yes.”

“The one no one has solved for twenty years.”

“That’s the one.”

“You want me to solve it in two days?”

“Ineedyou to solve it in two days. Three, tops.”

Barry set his pen down on his table, clasped his hands together.

“What happens in forty-eight hours?”

“I turn into a pumpkin,” I said.

“Meaning?”

“Need-to-know basis, Barry.”

The slight pucker to Barry’s lips revealed his offense. “All due respect sir, as much as I want to work your father’s case, I don’t appreciate getting jacked around. So, either tell me what’s going on or this will be the last time we speak.”

Shit.

I couldn’t tell him what was going on, obviously. But maybe I could speak in generalities and allow Barry’s imagination to fill in the blanks.

“I’m in trouble,” I admitted. “I’ve got a day or two before the shit catches up to me, and once that happens, I might not have access to my funds.” Or be here anymore. “My window—our window—just shrank, so if we don’t solve it within the next couple of days, it may never get solved.”

Barry had admitted this case was one he’d hungered to get his hands on; letting it slip through his grasp shouldn’t be something he’d do without a fight. He stared at the computer monitor, his eyes flicking down to the floor. After a few moments, he scratched the skin above his upper lip.

“Please don’t ask me any more questions about it,” I advised. “It’s best if we keep this separate for now, for your sake.”

That warning alone would probably make a strait-laced PI run for the hills. I could only hope Barry had the slight edge I’d sensed when we’d first met—a man who might be willing to bend the rules or look the other way—and hope that he’d still work with me on this.

Barry’s shoulders rose with his inhale.

“You said two cold cases. What’s the other?”

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