Three sets of male eyes fell upon me. Even Mrs. Hudson regarded me with doggie disdain.
“That was my dad’s nickname for him, not a legal description.” I sighed. “I meant what I said, Levi. I’ll stand by your decision.”
“Go,” Levi said, resignedly. “Just come back in one piece.”
“I will.”
Once Levi left, Arkady and I hashed out the best approach, while Rafael and Priya worked on their respective tasks. We threw out Arkady posing as my bodyguard, because it was too overtly aggressive, and also, we didn’t want to tip our hand of his abilities if things went south.
None of the other suggestions were viable until Arkady snapped his fingers. “You need a reason to go see him out of the blue and ask him about Adam. What if I go as your fiancé? If you were getting married, you’d want to know what happened to your father and if there was any way of contacting him to be there.”
“That’s smart,” I said.
Priya’s laptop binged. “Holy cow,” she said. “We got a hit.”
I came around her desk. “On what?”
“Moran’s real identity.”
I’d asked Pri to look into it, but had given up on finding anything. “Seriously?”
“It’s not his actual name, but it’s a start.” She showed me an old photo of a group of guys in their mid-teens posed in front of a bumper car ride. “One of them posted about the summer he worked for a traveling fair about thirty years ago. This guy?” She pointed out one with white-blond hair. “The poster mentioned his Russian accent.”
“That’s pretty slim,” I said.
“Ah. But I haven’t gotten to the best part. The fair was located just outside a ghost town in Northern California. Wonderland, California to be precise.”
I sat down heavily on her desk. “Get me his contact information.”
“Already on it.”
After confirming that everyone had their to-do lists, I announced I was off to work another case. “Pri, can you lock up if I’m not back?”
Priya waved me off. “I’m working from home for the rest of the day. Mrs. Hudson can stay with me.” She rarely worked at home. She had a few cafés she rotated, enjoying the social interaction with the employees and other regulars.
I threw on my leather jacket. “Don’t change your routine on my account. I should run her over to the animal shelter.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Priya slipped Mrs. Hudson a doggie treat.
“Pri—” She raised her eyebrows at me, her jaw tilting up at a stubborn angle, and I stepped back from that line. “It’s not fair to keep pawning her off on you.”
“Why not?” she said. “She’s family. My aunties watched me when mom had to work. How is this different?”
“My family had the same deal when we moved back to Canada,” Arkady said, texting Levi for the travel agent’s contact info.
The way everyone was rallying around the dog, around me, felt less like a team, with nice enforceable office hours, limited socializing, and okay, a professional dependence that I was only just getting used to, and more like a village. Sure, Priya and I were all up in each other’s lives, but she was one person. Talia and I maintained a carefully cultivated space at the best of times, and my life becoming this messy, rowdy, people-filled entity made my mouth go dry. Especially given Pri’s guardedness, Arkady’s secrets, this shitshow with Rafael, and my complicated status with Levi. My life was a house of cards.
“We’ll discuss her status later.” I dangled my fingers, but the dog only spared me the most indifferent glance.
“Her heart belongs to the cow,” Priya said.
“Fickle dog.”
Chapter 14
Any plan to ask Olivia, the front desk receptionist at the Lung Cancer Foundation, if she’d heard from Mayan was rendered moot when I showed up to find Mayan herself in the lobby, leaning against the large reception desk and signing off on some file.
It was a large, airy space. On one side hung lung cancer prevention posters, while the other was taken up with framed photos of the Black and White Ball that the Foundation put on every year as its big fundraiser.
I studied Mayan as I approached—before she saw me and tensed up. Her body language was relaxed. She was comfortable in her element, laughing with the receptionist as she handed the folder back.
“Mayan Shapiro,” I said, my boot heels thudding against the floor.
“Yes?” Her polite smile faltered and she stepped back. “Ash? What brings you here?” She lowered her voice. “Oh my God. Does your mother have cancer?”
“It’s a business matter.” I pulled out my P.I. license. “Can we speak privately?”
Mayan swallowed, one hand playing with the thin gold chain still minus the diamond heart pendant around her threat.
What prompted that reaction?
Olivia’s eyes gleamed behind her red-framed glasses before she busied herself with a stack of phone messages.
Fun as it was to make Mayan uncomfortable, I had no desire to blow her professional reputation. “I’m looking for an old camp alum and was hoping you might know what had happened to her.”
Olivia visibly lost interest.
“Certainly,” Mayan said. “Should we go up to my office?”
“Nah. Let’s just step outside. This’ll just take a moment.” I wasn’t giving her home court advantage. I wanted her off-balance. Levi had handled her with kid gloves and gotten nowhere.
The gloves were off.
I led her outside to a bench out in the front plaza.
She sat down and smoothed out her skirt. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“How horrible I was to you. It, well, it doesn’t matter why. My teen years weren’t great, but that doesn’t excuse how I behaved and I apologize.” She folded her hands in her lap.
I’d never actually imagined this exact scenario. Revenge fantasies by the dozens, sure, but not a freely offered up apology. Especially not one delivered so perfunctorily. It was as if she’d followed some kind of script. Had I been a betting woman, I’d have laid odds on Mayan never acknowledging our past.
Rule one of a con: create rapport with your mark.
And
