Page 80 of Space Oddities

Taking a deep breath in through my nose and exhaling through my mouth, I try again with Jules. “Put me back on the list.”

She tsks. “No can do, Kincaid. Like I said, you’re on your own.”

It’s a wonder the screen doesn’t crack from how hard I’m gripping the phone.

“Hey, but on the bright side, you’ll be back on the list for the wedding. So there’s that.” Jules’ placating is just as frustrating as her bullshitting.

“Okay, fine.” I take a deep breath, trying to focus. The ranchisthe best place for Trish. Holt has security already stationed there for the wedding. My nostrils flare. And apparently there is a short list of who can and can’t come onto the property. Plus, Trish said herself she would stay for the wedding.

The wedding. Just days away but feels like forever. That means I have until then to figure this out. Find a solution. Todealwith it.

I nod to myself. First things first, I need more information. “Tell me the name of the private eye who came to Trish’s trailer.”

Jules sighs. “Ian, you know I can’t do that.”

“Yes. You can.”

“Dude—”

“You’ll do it because at this point, what does it matter? Trish already knows you told me about him anyway.”

“Well yeah, but—”

“And you’ll do it because if you want any part of the EVAs for the new Bartolomeo installation you’ll cough up the PI’s name.Now.” I sound so much like my father it should make me sick, but I just don’t give a damn anymore.

When Jules finally talks, gone is the levity I’m used to, her voice hard and low. “Don’t even think of messing with my job, Kincaid. That ain’t right.”

“All’s fair in love and war, Starr.”

“Love, huh?” I can almost hear her rolling her eyes. “Yeah, guess love does make you do crazy shit.” Thankfully she doesn’t sound as murderous.

“Name?”

“Fine. But if she asks, I told you the name before. I don’t feel like getting in trouble for the same thing twice.”

“Scout’s honor.”

That gets a small laugh. “Gary Ranos. If the private detective badge he showed me was legit, he works out of Georgia.”

“Thanks, Jules.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

“Jules?” Trish’s voice, soft and lilting, washes over me through the phone.

“In here, Shortstack!” Jules doesn’t bother to pull the phone away from her mouth when she yells. “See you at the wedding,” she whispers to me, then hangs up.

I need a good five minutes of steady breathing, breathing I learned from Dr. Brown in case I started panicking due to my claustrophobia. Turns out it works well when you’re heartbroken and frustrated too.

* * *

Twelve hours later,after a sleepless night, a tow ride to the dealership, and the purchase of a new virtual private network, I’m deep in puzzle-solving mode while waiting for my new keys.

Not wanting to use my government-issued laptop to search for information on a felony or a private eye, I’d registered the VPN to a throwaway email account so I could search via my personal cell phone. Just in case Big Brother is watching.

I may be paranoid, but better paranoid than to direct law enforcement my, or worse, Trish’s way.

So far I know that Trishisn’ta felon. At least not yet. So that’s good.

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