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“Why did you go back?”

“Sawyer. He’d gotten his shit together and opened up the private investigator agency. He wanted people he knew that he could trust on his team. So he came to find me, dragged me back to town, and I’ve been there ever since.”

“Do you like your job?”

“I guess that depends on the case,” he said, shrugging, and it was refreshing that he didn’t just answer yes. No one loved every aspect of their work. Not even ‘workaholics’ like me.

“Which cases don’t you like?”

“While they’re the easiest cases to work on, I’ve had about enough of cheating spouse cases. It’s hard to enjoy the breaking up of a marriage or family, even if the person did bring it upon themselves.”

“I get that. There’s a lot of trauma involved. What are your favorite sort of cases to work on?”

“The ones involving beautiful, single women?” he said, shooting me a smirk. “I also like helping the families of missing persons after the cases go cold, or when their local department is just not doing enough. Those can be heartbreaking a good chunk of the time, since most people who go missing end up being dead.”

“But at least the families get closure.”

“Exactly. And when you can, on a rare occasion, find someone alive, that’s a high you don’t come down from. Even if there is often a lot of trauma involved in that too.”

“But you helped get them out and back to their families where they can heal.”

“Yeah. It’s definitely nice to get some good mixed in with some of the shitty stuff.”

“Do you get a lot of cases like mine?”

“With the faked suicide and 5150? No, babe, you’re my first.”

“I kind of meant with some unknown foe wishing someone unwell.”

“It’s not as common as the cheating spouses, but, yeah, it happens. We get a lot of stalker cases in particular. It’s hard for victims to get any sort of help from the police with shit like that, so they come to us for help.”

“What can you do? I mean, aren’t stalking cases notoriously hard to prosecute? Even with evidence?”

“Yeah, definitely. But we help the victims build up cases, get information on their stalkers, and try to weigh the danger level. Sometimes, just knowing we are involved with scare the creeps off. Other times, we have to refer clients to other organizations to help them disappear and start a new life away from a real psychopath. What?” he asked, giving me a long look, making me realize my thoughts must have been on my face.

“It’s just… I spent two hours today going over financial reports,” I said, laughing at myself. “Your job sounds so much more interesting.”

“Don’t underestimate how nice predictability can be,” he suggested.

The rest of the ride was riddled with little funny stories about cases he’d been on, situations he’d gotten himself into, and how I’d managed to get my career going at such a young age.

Grit and tireless determination, that was how.

“This is the Navesink?” I asked as we neared a bridge over a body of water.

“That’s it,” he confirmed as we passed what looked like the rich suburb he’d mentioned earlier.

I didn’t know what I was expecting with Brock. But I guess, in my mind, I pictured bachelors living in apartments.

Brock, however, pointed toward a suburb as we passed. “I live down there, but I wanted to do the meeting with the team first,” he told me. “They have families to get home to. And we have all night.”

The offices of Sawyer Investigations was an upscale, two-story building with a very masculine decor style—all dark black and grays, nothing soft or frilly around.

“Marg! The one who got away!” Brock greeted the woman at the front desk who looked old enough to be his mother. And, judging by the annoyed, yet affectionate, smile she gave him, that was likely very much the dynamic the two of them shared.

“Oh, you. You still need to get your comeuppance from Terry, you know. She’s asked for you twice already.”

“Marg, the love of my life, not in front of the client!” Brock said dramatically, one hand to his chest, the other gesturing toward me.


Tags: Jessica Gadziala Romance