“It’s good to see you too, pretty girl,” he beamed at the child. “So, where’s Missy?” he asked, returning his attention to the somewhat chubby young woman with a messy bun, who clung to Jasmine on the floor.

  “She’s taking a nap. She was pretty shaken up last night, so she had some tea and is trying to rest today.”

  “Understandable,” Spencer nodded ruefully. “I have to go now, Kaylee, but I’ll come back and see you and mama later, okay?” he asked the tiny tot in his arms.

  Kaylee nodded her head, then threw her arms around his neck, burying her face against him.

  “I love you too, little monkey,” he tickled her a bit and her arms released as she giggled.

  Spencer set her down on the ground and she sat down, going back to building with her blocks.

  “Let Missy know that I stopped by and that I’m here if she needs anything at all, okay?” he asked.

  “Sure,” Mattie nodded, still staring at him.

  “Matisse, huh?” he mused thoughtfully. “I love his work,” he commented, heading for the door and leaving a stunned Mattie sitting, mouth agape, watching him go.

  “Spess,” Kaylee said in a singsong voice, building with her blocks.

  “Spess,” Mattie nodded, lost in thought.

  She made it a point to always acknowledge and positively reinforce Kaylee’s behavior whenever she spoke.

  **

  “Joyce Rutledge, this is Kumar Dhan, our newest team member. Kumar, this is Joyce, my General Manager,” Echo introduced the two.

  Joyce stared at the new employee. “Kumar Dhan?” she asked.

  “Yes ma’am,” Kumar smiled.

  “First of all, don’t ever call me ma’am again, that’s for old ladies,” she laughed. “And secondly…you wouldn’t by chance be the Kumar Dhan who wrote a paper last year on the psychology of potty training, would you?” she asked, almost reverently.

  “Yes, that is me, and I will never call you ma’am again, Miss Rutledge,” he promised.

  “It’s just Joyce, Kumar. That paper was brilliant,” she shook her head, awed.

  “Okay, so explain to me how you came to read an academic paper on potty training,” Echo broke in, confused. Joyce was single and childless, a highly educated bookworm who loved nothing more than to be among books on a daily basis.

  “My aunt is a child psychologist, and she was so impressed by Kumar’s research that she sent it to me to read it. Wow, she’s going to flip when I tell her I work with you,” Joyce grinned.

  “Well, I am honored that she has such a high opinion of it,” he said humbly.

  “So, what on earth is a genius like you doing working in a candle store?” she challenged, crossing her arms.

  “Going to grad school,” he shrugged.

  “Oh, I gotcha, been there,” Joyce nodded. “My Masters in Literature is a bit less impressive than the PhD that you’ll be earning,” she sighed, but with a smile. “Well, Kumar, I’m going to teach you more than you ever wanted to know about retail,” she promised. “Your name means King, right?” she surprised him by asking.

  “Yes, yes it does,” he looked at her with something akin to wonder.

  “Well honey, you’re going to be the king of candles after I get done with you,” she laughed.

  “I’m looking forward to that, and if you don’t mind me asking…what’s a genius like you doing working in a bookstore?”

  “Exactly what I want to do,” Joyce chuckled. “You and me, Kumar, we’re gonna get along just fine,” she took him by the arm and led him toward the candle side of the two stores.

  Echo watched the two of them walk away, more certain than ever that she’d made the right decision in hiring the shy young man. Joyce certainly was quite taken with him.

  **

  Spencer stopped by his home, a caretaker’s cottage on the back perimeter of Missy and Chas’ estate, and found his colleague and friend from his Marine Corps days, Janssen, throwing his meager belongings into a duffel bag. Janssen had recently come to work for Chas, while he tried to settle into civilian life upon his return from Afghanistan. He had a wife and kid in Illinois and had tried to make things work with them, but it hadn’t gone as any of them had expected, so he came to Florida to clear his head and make some decisions.

  “Bugging out?” Spencer asked mildly.

  “I may not be back,” Janssen muttered, not pausing for an instant.

  “What’s up?”

  “My wife started a business up there. Somebody burned it to the ground in the middle of the night. She lost everything. I gotta be there for her, man. Ain’t got a choice,” the agitated young man explained.

  “Of course,” Spencer nodded. “Anything I can do?”

  “Send my apologies to the boss and keep a spot open, just in case. I’ll be in touch when I know more,” he padlocked his duffel and swung it over his shoulder, headed for the door. “Thanks for everything.”

  “There’s always a spot open for you here, you know that,” Spencer said quietly.

  “Counting on it,” Janssen nodded and clapped his friend on the shoulder, then set out on foot.

  “Need a ride?” Spencer called after him.

  “Nope, got one,” was the reply. Janssen didn’t even turn around.

  **

  “What do we know?” Spencer asked Chas, who had the file for the Brogan case open in front of him.

  Since they had nothing but cold cases to pursue at the Agency, Chas had drafted Spencer to help him with the murder of Buster Brogan. It was an unorthodox move, but given the fact that the former Marine had the highest level of government clearance, and that the Calgon PD was short staffed, the Chief of Police tended to look the other way when Chas brought his associates from the Agency in to work on police business, because the Calgon PD was able to utilize the skills of highly-trained Private Investigators at no cost to the department.

  “This guy is as squeaky clean as they come. Not even so much as a parking ticket on his record,” Chas shook his head. “I have a list of folks to interview – you can help me with that. His daughter ID’d the body at the morgue, but she was so distraught that I didn’t even attempt to question her at the time. She kept saying it doesn’t make sense, everybody loves him.”

  “Okay, so we’re going to have to get together with her when she’s recovered a bit and see if we can get a line on some suspects,” Spencer summed up.

  “Exactly. In the meantime, we need to talk to his friends, his neighbors, his customers…anyone who might have a clue as to what happened.”

  “You want me to bring Ringo in here?” Spencer asked.

  Ringo was the Agency’s resident hacker. He could get into any computer system that existed, given enough time, and had been instrumental in providing them with pertinent information. He was also a junk food junkie who often slept at the office and seldom changed his clothes or combed his hair.

  “He’s our starting point,” Chas nodded.

  “What do you have handy?” Spencer asked.

  Chas opened a small cabinet behind his desk and rummaged through it.

  “Let’s see…he likes chocolate…I’ve got three candy bars, a bag of onion crisps, a bag of spicy hot potato chips and a six pack of the soda that he likes.”

  “Oh geez,” Spencer winced. “Don’t tell him about the onion crisps. I can’t go through having that smell on his breath and in the control room again,” he shook his head, remembering. “Let me take one of the candy bars to lure him with.”

  Chas tossed Spencer a peanut encrusted, chocolate-covered nougat log.

  **

  “Hey!” Spencer called out, relishing the moment when Ringo snapped out of a deep sleep, his feet falling off the desk.

  “Wha…? Whass goin’ on?” he muttered, his eyes heavy with sleep.

  “Got a job for ya. Catch,” Spencer exclaimed, tossing the candy bar to the lethargic hacker.

  “Ow,” Ringo frowned when it clunked him in the shoulder and fell into his lap. “Oh, breakfast, nice,” he nodded, tearing open the wrapper. “So, what’s up?” he asked, his mouth full of candy bar.

  “We need you in Chas’ office, let’s go,” Spencer turned away.

  “There any snacks in there?”

  “Worked up an appetite?” Spencer asked dryly.

  “Yeah, most definitely. Thirsty too, now that I think of it.”

  “There are jalapeno potato chips and ice-cold sodas waiting for you,” Spencer dangled the bait.

  “Breakfast of champions, dude,” Ringo grinned, finally rising from his chair. He stuffed the rest of the candy into his mouth, tossed the crumpled wrapper onto his desk and slouched out the door, chewing audibly.

  Settling into one of the leather club chairs in front of Chas’ desk, Ringo munched happily on his chips, taking the occasional slurp of soda. It was Spencer’s goal to get him out of the office before the belching began.

  “So, what’s up, Boss Man?” he asked, sucking the spicy residue from the chips off of his fingers.

  Chas pushed a file toward the hacker, hoping that he wouldn’t touch it until he was done with the chips.

  “This is Buster Brogan,” he pointed to a photo that was paper-clipped to the manila folder. “He was murdered last night and we need to find out who did it. I need every bit of background info that you can find on this guy, and I need it yesterday.”

  “No problem, dude,” Ringo shrugged. “So, are you guys up for splitting a pizza or something?” he asked hopefully.

  “At nine-thirty in the morning?” Spencer blinked at him.

  “Nine-thirty?” Ringo seemed astonished. “Wow. Do you guys always get up this early? How are you like, dressed and ready to go already?” he shook his head in wonder.

  “It’s called adulting,” Spencer commented dryly. “You should try it sometime.”

  “That’s totally not my jam, man,” Ringo shuddered, stroking his bedraggled wispy beard. “All bound up in the clock and rules. Who would want that? So, no pizza then?”

  Chas held back a sigh. “I’ll let Holly know to order one just as soon as the pizza place opens.”

  “Sweet. Yeah, you need to talk to that chick. She’s way too uptight.”

  “Why, because she has a clock and keeps her desk clean?” Spencer challenged, defending their highly professional receptionist, who had a penchant for following after Ringo with a spray bottle of disinfectant and deodorizer.

  “Let’s get our day started, shall we?” Chas broke in, ending any potential for confrontation between the two very different young men.

  “I’m gonna catch a little nap first, so I’ll be refreshed,” Ringo popped his knuckles, then stood and stretched.

  “Worn out from all that sleeping?” Spencer quirked an eyebrow in his direction.

  “Dude, it’s the weirdest thing, but yeah, that stuff really happens,” Ringo yawned. “Catch you peeps later,” he raised a hand in farewell and sauntered off to his wrapper-strewn lair.

  “Why do we put up with him?” Spencer sighed, after Ringo was out of earshot.

  “Because he’s the best at what he does,” Chas shrugged. “What’s up, Spence?” he asked, eyeing his Jr. Investigator.

  “Nothing, why do you ask?”

  “Simple annoyances usually roll off of you like water off a duck’s back. Your focus is normally entirely on your work. You seem distracted and on edge lately. Is there something that I need to know about?”

  Spencer sighed and drummed his fingers on the solid mahogany desktop in front of him.

  “Not that I can articulate,” he said finally.

  “Because you don’t know, or you don’t want to share?”

  “Because I don’t know. I mean, there are some factors that are probably adding to it, but I don’t know exactly what they are, aside from Janssen’s life being turned upside down, Missy almost walking into a murder, and the slow pace of things happening around here. I feel like I’m not living my fullest life, I guess,” the handsome young man confessed.

  “Is there a female involved in this somewhere?” Chas guessed.

  “No, and maybe that’s the problem. Here I am telling Ringo that he needs to get his act together and live like an adult, and I can’t even seem to form a long-term relationship without hurting someone or being hurt,” Spencer sank back into his chair and crossed his arms.

  “That’s what adulting is all about, Spence. If we never make mistakes, we sometimes don’t learn the hard lessons that we need to learn. You’re an accomplished man, and you’re accustomed to being successful at anything that you attempt. Matters of the heart just aren’t that simple. Take it from one who knows. Before I met Missy, I had resigned myself to being single forever, and it cast a negative light over lots of areas of my life. The right person can change everything.”

  “Yeah, but how do I know that there even is a right person out there for me?” he asked, gazing out the window, brooding.

  “There is. Without a doubt. She’ll probably come along when you least expect it,” Chas encouraged the young man who was like a son to him.

  “Yeah, that’s what I hear,” Spencer stood. “I’m going to go check out the perimeter around the furniture shop while we’re waiting on our computer whiz to give us some leads.”

  “Sounds good,” Chas nodded. “I’ll let you know when I’ve got something for you.”

  “Thanks,” Spencer gave a slight nod, and beat a hasty retreat.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  * * *

  Hayley Brogan-Myers trembled as she sat in the police station, across the desk from Chas.

  “I’m sorry that I can’t quit crying, Detective. It’s just that…my daddy was the nicest man ever. Everybody loved him and he meant the world to me. I just can’t make any sense out of this,” she choked out, dabbing at her eyes with a crumpled tissue.

  “I understand Mrs. Myers. Please don’t apologize. I’m hoping that you might be able to give me some insight as to who might have done this terrible thing,” Chas responded gently.

  Hayley took a deep, shuddering breath. “Honestly, there’s only one person that I can think of, and that’s Brenda,” her lower lip quavered and fire flashed in her eyes.

  “Brenda Brogan? His wife?” the detective clarified, making a note.

  “Yes sir,” she nodded.

  “What would make you think that?”

  “She’s been awful to him for months now. They’re in the midst of a nasty divorce and she’s threatened to kill him more than once.”

  “She literally threatened to kill him? How long ago did that happen?” Chas probed.

  “I heard her do it a couple months back, just before Christmas, and Daddy said that she says that kind of stuff to him all the time.”

  “So, you heard her say that? Can you tell me her exact words?”

  “Yeah, I remember it plain as day. She said, Buster Brogan, you better watch yourself, you mess with me and I’ll kill you.”

  “Strong words. You think she meant them?” Chas asked.

  “Sure seems like it now, doesn’t it?” Hayley’s tone was bitter.

  “Are there any other possibilities that you can think of? Dissatisfied customers, jealous rivals, ex-girlfriends, anything like that?”

  “Nothing that I can think of,” she shook her head. “Like I said, he was a sweet guy. He went out of his way to be good to people. I can’t believe that something like this happened to someone like him.”

  “Where were you last night between four o’clock and six o’clock?” he asked.

  “I left the store to go home just after four. Daddy was in the office, getting the plans ready to show your wife. I went right home because I’d thawed out some hamburger to make spaghetti for supper and I didn’t want it getting too warm in the sink. We had just sat down to eat when my Uncle Clay called and told us that there was a bunch of police cars and an ambulance down at the store. He told me to stay put when he saw the coroner’s car there. That was the worst moment of my life,” the tears flowed freely down Hayley’s unlined cheeks.

  “Do you know why your Uncle Clay happened to be in the area at the time?”

  “He works at the tire factory, and the furniture shop is between his work and his house, so he drives by every day at the same time,” she explained.

  “And was it his usual time when he called?”

  “Yes sir, just like clockwork. Clay hasn’t been early or late a day in his life that I know of,” Hayley assured him.

  “Do you have contact information for him? I’d like to see if he saw or heard anything as he was driving by that might be important.”

  “Yes sir, I can give you his address and phone number.”

  “Perfect, if you could just write those down here,” he pushed a notepad toward her and she did as he asked. “Now, back to Brenda, she’s not your mother?”

  “No sir, she most certainly is not. She isn’t much older than me, if you want to know the truth. She never liked me.”

  “What made their divorce so unpleasant?” Chas changed the direction of the conversation.

  “Well, I think that Daddy was being way too generous, but she wanted everything. Nothing he offered was good enough. She didn’t just want to divorce him, she wanted to ruin him,” Hayley’s eyes narrowed, remembering.

  “Why was she so determined? Had there been an affair?” Chas asked carefully.

  “Oh, heck yeah there had…on her part. She had a boyfriend that she cheated with, and she wanted half of Daddy’s business so that they’d be set when they got married.”

  “I see. Do you know who the boyfriend is?”

  “Yes sir, his name is Heath Morton. He’s a mechanic at Al’s Auto.”

  “Did Mr. Morton have any hostility toward your dad?” Chas inquired.

  “I don’t think so, but goodness only knows what lies Brenda told him. She’s a manipulator, so I guess it’s not impossible to think that she may have tricked Heath into doing it. Can I have some water, Detective?” Hayley asked, looking exhausted.