“Have you any idea how dangerous that was?”

  I frowned at him. “The doors were locked.”

  “It only takes a few seconds to smash a window.”

  “Well nobody smashed my window, so it’s fine.”

  “No, it’s not fine. You carried out surveillance of a man who is not a part of any official investigation, Maisie. You haven’t even gotten your PI licence. Worse yet, what you did could be construed as stalking. It’s one thing looking into his background online, but it’s another entirely to go out of your way to watch him in person.”

  I stood up now. “If you’re just going to sit there and berate me, then I’m leaving.” I turned and walked to the door.

  Cameron didn’t say anything, but when I reached the door, he let out a heavy sigh. “What’s on the phone?”

  “It’s none of your concern.” Before I could say anything else, he rose and stalked towards me. He stopped several inches away and held out his hand. “Show me.”

  Reluctantly, I pulled up the pictures and handed him the phone. He silently scrolled through them, his face unreadable. I watched as he tried to zoom in.

  “It’s no use. I already tried making the images clearer. It was too dark to get a decent picture.”

  “Is this Harrington? Was he meeting with these men?” he questioned.

  “Yes. I thought it was odd given the late hour. Harrington also looked stressed after they left, kind of agitated.”

  Cameron handed the phone back to me then returned to his desk. He was silent, and I stood in place, waiting for him to say something. A minute went by before he finally picked up his landline and dialled a number.

  “Hello, this is Cameron Grant of James & Peterson Investigations. I’d like to request a visitation with Christina Crowley.”

  I watched while he spoke on the phone then ended the call. Raising an eyebrow, I asked, “You want to talk to Christina?”

  Cameron blew out a breath, levelling me with a serious look. “She’s the only person we know who might have information on Harrington. I still don’t approve of your methods, but you could be onto something.”

  “So,” I hedged, a part of me thrilled that Cameron was on board, even if he did chew me out a little. “We’re going on a field trip?”

  “Yes,” he replied, somewhat reluctantly. “We’re going on a field trip.”

  ***

  On Saturday morning, I pulled up outside Cameron’s flat and sent a quick text that I’d arrived. We were scheduled for a visit with Christina, who was currently awaiting trial. Apparently, she hadn’t been able to make bail.

  Cameron called me about an hour ago to say his car was at the garage, something about needing to replace the exhaust, so I’d have to drive us. He didn’t sound very happy about it, and I was well aware of his disdain for my Fiat.

  He emerged from the building wearing jeans and a navy jacket. I took the opportunity to admire him before he opened the passenger side door and climbed in.

  “My God, this thing really is tiny,” he grumped as he pushed the seat all the way back.

  “Relax, your legs aren’t that long,” I teased, and he shot me a put-upon expression. I pulled away from the kerb. “You really hate not being in control, don’t you?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You always want to be the one to drive us everywhere.”

  He huffed a breath. “Only because your car is a death trap.”

  “I don’t know. Seems to me you might not like letting a woman take the lead.”

  “That’s preposterous.”

  I shot him a cunning smile. “So how about you let me head up our next case. You take a back seat.”

  “Why would I do that? You’re still in training.”

  “You need to let me test my abilities at some point, otherwise I’ll always feel like the Robin to your Batman. The whole point of training me is so that someday I can become the Batman.”

  “First of all, only Batman’s enemies call him “the Batman”, and second of all, you should aspire to be Alfred. He was the true mastermind,” Cameron pointed out jokingly. I loved it when he showed me a glimpse of his sense of humour.

  I laughed. “Fine. Someday I need to become Alfred. And stop trying to change the subject. You know I’m right about your control issues.”

  He shrugged. “So I like to run things. That’s only because I know I’ll do a better job.”

  “You need to learn how to delegate.”

  “And then have to correct all the mistakes made by the person I delegated to? No thanks.”

  “Jeez, it’s great to know you have so much faith in me,” I commented dryly.

  “I’m not talking about you. You’re one of the only capable people at the office. The rest of them, well...”

  “Great, so let me take the lead on our next case.”

  Cameron sighed. “You’re not going to let up on this, are you?”

  I grinned at the road, feeling his eyes on my profile. “Nope.”

  “Fine, you can take the lead on our next case, but first we need to focus on our current cases.”

  “And our current non-cases,” I added.

  “Let’s call today an extracurricular,” he suggested.

  “Speaking of which, what’s our plan?”

  Cameron was thoughtful a moment before he replied, “We need to find out what Christina knows about Harrington. She was pulling a scam with Moretti’s money, but there was something going on at the jewellery store, too. Maybe it’s connected to the scam, maybe not. Either way, it’s a blind spot in the case that keeps bothering me.”

  A few minutes of quiet passed.

  “I’ve never been to a prison before,” I said.

  “Lucky you.”

  “What’s it like?”

  “Depressing, sterile.”

  I glanced at him. “Not scary?”

  His lips twitched. “Let me keep my macho persona, will you?”

  I chuckled softly. “Terrifying then.”

  “Just a smidge.”

  We had to go through a whole process before we entered the visitation room. Lots of people were there to see their loved ones, and I spotted Christina sitting in the far corner, her eyes downcast. She only looked up when we sat down across from her, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. There was anger behind it, and I knew she blamed both Cameron and me for her current situation.

  “I was wondering when you two would show up,” she said, a bite to her words. “Finally remembered where I know you from. Maisie Wilkins, right?”

  I nodded. “We went to school together.”

  “Unluckily for me. So, what do you want?” she asked, looking between the two of us. “You want to sue Moretti for wasting your time? Get paid for the pointless investigative work you did for him?”

  “We’re here to talk to you about Edward Harrington,” Cameron said.

  Her entire body went still now, a hint of apprehension on her face. “What about him?”

  “Can you tell us about your time working at his store?”

  “I was a part-time clerk, nothing much to tell.”

  “And did you ever happen to steal any merchandise while you worked there? Or come across anyone else who did?”

  Christina’s mouth formed a thin line. “Not that I can recall.”

  “Are you absolutely certain about that?”

  She got a calculating look in her eye. “You know what? There was something, but I’m having a hard time remembering. Maybe if someone could post my bail, it’d resurface.”

  “How much is your bail?” I asked.

  Her attention wandered to me again. “Fifty thousand.”

  I gaped at her.

  “We’re not posting your bail,” Cameron told her firmly.

  She folded her arms and sat back. “Thought so. I guess those memories will just have to stay lost.”

  “What about legal representation? Have you been assigned a solicitor yet?”

  Christina’s eyes turned to slits. “Yes, not that he’s going to do me much good. The bloke is barely out of university.”

  “I’m a good friend of Kevin Temple. Ever heard of him?” Cameron said.

  This seemed to be a game changer because Christina’s expression transformed. I saw a glimmer of hope shine behind her hopeless eyes. “He’s one of the best criminal law solicitors in the country, but I’m pretty sure I can’t afford him.”

  “He actually takes on one or two pro bono cases each year. I can put in a good word for you.”

  “How do I know I can trust you?” Christina asked, suspicious.

  Cameron pulled out his phone. “I can call him right now. All you have to do is tell us about Harrington.”

  She chewed her lip, considering it for a long moment. “Fine. I’ll tell you. I stole two rings from the store when I was working there. It was a stupid thing to do, what with all the other stuff I had going, but I have a bit of a klepto streak in me. Couldn’t help myself.”

  “Were they pink sapphires?” I asked eagerly.

  She looked at me, clearly curious as to how I knew about the rings. “Yes, they were. Anyway, I’d planned to leave town in two days, so I thought, why not take some mementos? I completely forgot I still had them until a few weeks later. I’d been hiding out at a friend’s apartment, laying low until the police investigation died down. It was mid-morning and I was just getting out of the shower when I heard someone shuffling around outside. By the time I pulled on some clothes they’d already kicked the door in. The next thing I knew some arsehole was in my face, threatening me and claiming to work for Harrington. He was a real vicious bastard, roughed me up good and proper before demanding I hand over what I’d taken from the store. I tried telling him I’d already sold the rings, but he trashed the place and found where I’d hidden them.”

  “When you say he roughed you up, do you mean he beat you?” Cameron asked, frowning.

  Christina nodded. “Just enough not to leave any lasting damage, but if Harrington has someone like that working for him, then you have to wonder what’s really going on. I mean, no ordinary jeweller has thugs on hand to go beat up thieving ex-employees. An ordinary jeweller would’ve reported me to the police.”

  “Did you ever see the man again? The one who broke into your house?” I was thinking of the other store clerk, Jamie, and how he’d had that black eye when I saw him just before Christmas. I wondered if it was the very same man who’d hit him. And if it was the same man, why did he do it? What had Jamie done to warrant the punishment?

  She shook her head. “No, but I’d remember him if I did see him. I never forget a face.”

  Cameron and I shared a look, both of us wondering the same thing. Was the man who beat Christina one of the men I’d pictured leaving the store the other night? It was a real pity the photos were so blurry, otherwise I could’ve used them to have her identify him.

  “Thank you. This is very useful information,” Cameron told her.

  “No problem. Now I’d be much obliged if you made that phone call,” Christina replied.

  Cameron pulled his phone out again.

  ***

  Later that evening, I was at home on my laptop doing yet more fruitless online stalking of Edward Harrington when a new email popped up in my inbox. It was a reminder that I hadn’t yet RSVP’d for The Hunt.

  I paused, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. I wanted to go now more than ever. I was convinced Harrington was involved in some pretty shady business, but how did the treasure hunt factor into it? Was it really just some quirky, fun activity for grown-ups, or was something else at play?

  The only way to truly find out was to attend…

  I logged onto my online banking account and eyed my savings, which were pretty healthy, all things considered. I could afford to spend 3k if I really wanted to, but would it be worth it? What if the whole thing turned out to be exactly what it said on the website? Then I’d have spent all that money for nothing. Well, I might enjoy some good, clean quirky adult fun trying to win the treasure hunt, but that was about it.

  Feeling impulsive, I clicked the pay link and quickly filled in my card details. I started to sweat just thinking about the sheer amount of money I was spending. It was the equivalent of two months mortgage repayments. I hit the pay button, and there was no turning back. I considered picking up the phone to tell Cameron what I’d done, but I was too scared he’d be angry with me, so I decided to put off my confession for another time.

  I just needed to find the right moment to tell him.

  On Monday we were parked across from a café Lydia and Quentin Black had just entered. We’d been following them all morning but so far all they’d done was drop their two small kids off at school, go to the gym, teach a few aerobics classes, and now they were eating lunch.

  I chewed my lip as I eyed them. “I feel like Silverstein might be wrong about these two. They’re squeaky clean. Sure, they had that suspicious conversation in the steam room, but they could’ve been talking about anything.”

  “They could also have been talking about something,” Cameron pointed out.

  He was right. I blew out a breath. “Don’t you sometimes wish you could fast-forward to the interesting parts?”

  “Of course. Unfortunately, they haven’t invented a time machine yet, so this is the best we can do.”

  I was silent a moment before my stomach grumbled loudly. Since the car was so quiet, it seemed to boom in my ears. I chanced a peek at Cameron and knew he heard when I saw the faint curve to his lips. “Do you want to go grab us some food? We haven’t had lunch yet.”

  I perked right up at that. “Sure, what are you in the mood for?”

  “Something healthy, not McDonald’s this time please. Not everyone shares your love of junk food.”

  I was already out of the car and standing on the street. I placed a hand on my hip as I leaned down to reply, “I don’t love junk food. I love all food.” I grinned then shut the door before sauntering off in search of lunch

  When I returned, I handed Cameron a bottle of water and a green salad before unwrapping my Philly cheesesteak sub. The combination of cheese, fried onions, and beef smelled like heaven, and from the look on his face, I suspected Cameron was regretful I hadn’t gotten him one, too. He picked at his salad while I took a big bite of my sub.

  Several minutes passed before he asked hesitantly, “Are you going to eat all of that?”

  I smirked. “Probably.”

  He huffed a breath, and I felt very pleased with myself. “Surely you don’t want any of this when you’ve got that delightfully healthy green salad? Besides, you won’t be able to virtue signal your good eating habits if you have some of my sub.”

  “I don’t want any of your sub,” he replied, at the same time eyeing it with marked desire. “It looks disgusting.”

  “In that case, I’ll go throw the rest away. I’m feeling pretty full now.”

  His jaw worked as he held out his hand. “Give it to me.”

  Smiling triumphantly, I handed it over. Cameron made a sound very close to a groan when he took the first bite, and I tried my best to ignore it. How was the way he ate sexy? It boggled the mind. When I ate, I got sauce on my face and crumbs everywhere.

  I focused my attention on the window of the café. Two men entered, but instead of going to the counter to place an order, they approached Lydia and Quentin. I watched as they shook hands then sat down and started to talk. Something about one of the men seemed familiar, so I grabbed the binoculars Cameron kept in his glove compartment to take a closer look.

  “Oh my God, it’s him,” I exclaimed.

  Cameron put down the sub. “What are you talking about?”

  “Two men just entered the café and are sitting with Lydia and Quentin. I’m ninety-five-percent certain one of them was in the group I saw leaving the jewellery store last week.”

  “Give me that,” Cameron said, plucking the binoculars from my hand. He held them to his eyes then swore under his breath.

  “What? What is it?” I asked.

  “That’s Roy Voss.”

  “Who’s Roy Voss?”

  Cameron put the binoculars down to level me with a serious look. “He owns a night club and a few other businesses in town. A very shady character. He’s never been to prison, but he is known to the police.”

  “How is he shady?” I asked, sitting forward. This was all becoming very, very complicated. Our official investigation into the Blacks had somehow intermingled with our extracurricular investigation into Harrington.

  “He’s suspected to run a protection racket, drug dealing, that sort of stuff.”

  “Oh, do you think he’s shaking Harrington down for protection money?” I said, my mind working. “But wait, Christina said the man who broke into her house worked for Harrington. If he has people like that working for him, then I don’t think he’d need to pay for protection.”

  “Let’s not talk about Harrington for a minute. First, we need to figure out what’s going on with the Blacks. That’s what we’re being paid for.”

  “Okay, so how do we do that?”

  “I’m going to go over and try to listen in to what they’re talking about,” Cameron said, readying himself to leave the car.

  I reached out and caught his arm. His attention went to where I touched him, and a weighted moment passed between us before I let go.

  “I think I should go instead,” I said. “I’ll be able to get closer. Nobody ever really looks at me, but they look at you.”

  “People don’t look at me.”

  I chuckled. “And you think I’m oblivious?”

  Cameron narrowed his gaze. “Fine, you go. I suppose it will be good practice. Just…be careful.”

  I smiled wide and grabbed my handbag before getting out and heading across the street. Once inside the café, I went to the counter and ordered a coffee, then chose a seat at a table directly behind the one Lydia, Quentin, and Roy Voss were sitting at. Annoyingly, the radio was on, so it was hard to pick out their conversation amid the constant din of the music and advertisements.

  Perhaps technology would work better than human ears… I navigated to the audio recording app on my phone and hit record. Then I placed it back in my open handbag and went to use the bathroom. My reasoning being that if a stranger wasn’t sitting so close they’d be more likely to openly discuss any shady dealings that might be going on.