Chapter Text
“Um... excuse me? I think I need... um... a detective.”
Enid was not in the mood to humor any pranksters today. She was tired of people trying to make a joke of their business—non-existent as it might be—and would just as soon smack the next idiot who tried. Besides, she was in the middle of a marathon and did not wish to be disturbed for any kind of joke right now.
“No, you don't, because if you were really in need of our services, you'd know why and would not say you needed a detective as we are much more than such a thing and so turn around, march your juvenile little ass out the door, and do let it hit you as you leave.”
“Oh, no, you don't understand,” the man began again, and she glowered at her screen, refusing to acknowledge his existence. “I was sent here. On a recommendation. And I do need help.”
Enid blew some of her hair out of her face. “I can tell that much without even looking at you, but I can pretty much guarantee you're in the wrong place, and furthermore, you're irritating me.”
“I know I have the address right. I copied it down just as I was told, put it in the GPS, and had it guide me here. I was a little confused by the address and the sign, but this is where I'm supposed to be, and I don't think she would have made a mistake like that. It's not like her. Not at all.”
“That suggests to me that 'she,' whoever 'she' may be, sent you here as a prank, and again, so not in the mood. You didn't even bring me coffee, which is dreadful etiquette, and now that you have completely exhausted my patience, you should go.”
“I can't. She'll kill me. She already thinks this is my fault, even though it can't be,” he said, and Enid rolled her eyes. Desperate was a good look on no one. “Please. I need to see the detective.”
Enid shook her head. “There's no one here but me, and you have your answer. Do I need to try giving it to you in another language? There's always Elvish—by which I mean Sindarin, I never mastered any of the others, and calling myself a master of that is a stretch—Klingon, or Simlish.”
“Um, as tempted as I would be to hear you speak Klingon, I really do need to talk to someone about... um... a sensitive matter, and if you would please at least make me an appointment... I just... I can't go back empty-handed. Really, I'm surprised she hasn't come here and taken over herself yet, but she probably will. She's very... hands-on.”
“And I'm sure you enjoy that very much—or maybe not, I shouldn't assume—but I've already told you where you stand and you should just accept that.”
“I told you. I can't. I really need that appointment, or Ms. Duke will fire me.”
Enid tried not to react to that. Shit. She'd thought this guy was making all that up, and she was completely rude about it, too. If this guy actually did know Heather, this could be very, very bad. She leaned back in her chair, taking her first look at him.
And kicked herself all over again. He was somewhere between adorkable and outright gorgeous, maybe a bit of almost a hidden threat like Clark Kent (but seriously, the glasses didn't fool anyone, did they?) and his eyes were right up there with her brother's in terms of intensity and just plain beautiful.
Well, at least she hadn't looked before. She'd have made twice the fool of herself if she had. She didn't do real life people well, and attractive ones just made it worse.
“If you really work for Heather, you'd better prove it,” Enid said. “We don't take referrals from just anyone.”
“Oh, right,” he said, giving her an awkward smile. He dug into his bag and took out a tablet, typing on the screen. He pulled something up on it and held it out to her. “Here.”
She stood, taking the tablet from him and wishing she was not so short. She should change her chair height, but then the desk would be all wrong.
“Okay, screw you,” she said. “Who the hell put you up to this?”
He frowned. “What?”
“Was it Jay? If it was my brother, I'm going to kill him.” She turned toward the offices and the elevator. “You hear me, Jay? I swear, I will murder you for this.”
“Um... I'm sorry. What just happened?”
“You heard me,” she said, shoving the tablet back at him. “Who the hell sent you here with those fake cosplay pictures of you as Tuxedo Mask? Hmm? I think letting the door hit you on the way out is too kind a response.”
He went bright red. “Oh, shit. That wasn't what I meant to show—that's not even supposed to be—oh, God. How did that even—shit.”
He frantically tapped on the screen, looking like he was trying to delete all the photos. He pulled up a different app. “This. I swear this is what I was showing you. I don't—I would never—I don't—I don't cosplay. No. Never. I deny all such things.”
Enid just shook her head. “Sure thing, buddy. And I'm supposed to believe that?”
“No, I—”
“Giles,” Duke said, and he jerked to attention. “I thought I told you to make sure they had the files. What the hell are you doing?”
“Losing the roll to the gatekeeper, apparently,” he answered. “Um... She's more fearsome than she looks, Ms. Duke.”
“What? Me? I'm a teddy bear, right, Heather?” Enid asked, adding a bunch of fake innocence to her tone and expression. She'd have the googly eyes if she was animated. “Or maybe a quaggan. I might be a pink one. A pink pirate one, though.”
“God, I don't even want to know,” Duke said. “Where is Veronica?”
“Out with McNamara and her kids,” Enid answered. “Which I thought you knew about.”
Duke sighed. “Fine. Where is your brother? I have a damned case for you, and it had better be solved quickly.”
Veronica saw the car outside the office and grimaced, knowing she did not want to see Heather Duke this morning. She was about socialed out from talking to Heather and her gaggle of kids all morning, since they were all kind of perky, like an unholy conspiracy of happiness on steroids that made Veronica want to run and yet they were all so... nice it was so hard to find a reason to leave.
And if it was Duke and her kids, Veronica would have said they'd done it on purpose, but it was McNamara, and she didn't seem to be aware of how unnatural it was they were all so perky.
They could be putting on an act for their mother. That would not surprise Veronica at all. Sometimes it seemed like disappointing McNamara was like kicking a puppy, so... yeah. Her kids probably didn't show her half their real emotions.
That was a scary thought, wasn't it?
Veronica steeled herself and walked inside the door. She couldn't avoid Duke forever.
Everyone turned back to look at her, and she forced herself not to turn and run at the look on Duke's face.
“There you are,” Duke said. “I swear, if this is how you run your business, it will be in the ground within a month.”
They were already so in the red it wasn't funny, and Veronica didn't even have the actual numbers because JD refused to tell her exactly how much he'd spent on any of this, the building, the furnishings, or the advertising. If not for Bud Dean's money, they couldn't have started it, and it was also the only reason they still had one to speak of after this long without a single damned case.
“Nice to see you, too, Heather. Why are you here?”
“I have a case,” Duke said. “And I sent this one over to start the discussion, but he couldn't even convince Enid he worked for me, and your husband and you were nowhere to be found.”
Veronica's stomach twisted up. She turned to Enid. “He's really not back yet? Again?”
Enid shook her head guiltily even though it wasn't her fault at all. “No. I thought he was here, but I just checked upstairs. He left in the middle of the night again?”
“Trouble in paradise already?” Duke asked, folding her arms over her chest. “Exactly why did you get married again? He did agree he was staying when he came back, didn't he? Or was that just wishful thinking on everyone's part?”
Veronica glared at her. “His nightmares have been worse the last few nights. He woke me a few times, they were that bad, but if he doesn't, he... he gets up and leaves so he won't. He's usually back by now, though. He hasn't run off and left, thanks so much for asking, Heather.”
She absolutely, resolutely was not saying anything else about the state of her marriage as it currently was. JD had come back, they'd gone ahead with a small wedding, and things were as fine as the two of them could expect, at least for their honeymoon.
Coming back and trying to settle in again, that seemed to be what set him off again, but he wasn't discussing his dreams with her, even if she shared her nightmares with him.
“Just tell us about the case.”
“What, I don't even get to use that conference room I helped decorate? What kind of client do you think I am?” Duke demanded, arms folded over her chest.
“The kind we accidentally spill slushies on,” Enid told her brightly, smiling like it would break her face. “Feel free to take the elevator to floor two. A representative will be with you shortly.”
“Don't push it,” Duke warned her. “Giles, get in the damned elevator already.”
“Yes, ma'am,” he said, running over to push the button for her and hold the door open. “After you, Ms. Duke.”
Duke snorted, stabbing the button with her finger and letting the doors close behind her.
Enid nudged Veronica with a quaggan. “I'm sure he'll show up in the middle of the meeting just to piss you off. It would be so very Jay.”
“Yeah.”
“And on the bright side, I'm sure you'll get to hear just how stupid I was this morning when you go up there.”
Veronica frowned. “What, you said something else to bait Heather?”
“Oh, no. I just... I thought that assistant of hers was here to play a prank and yeah... I so win the prize for rudeness and then some. It's awesome. If he wasn't so terrified of Duke, I'd have lost us the job. I win again.”
Veronica just shook her head, forcing herself toward the elevator this time. She may as well know what was going on with Heather.
“Someone is stealing money from my company,” Heather said as soon as Veronica came in the room. She saw no point in waiting, even if Giles flinched at her words. “I haven't been able to figure out who, though I naturally considered my ex, as he was less than pleased with what he got in our settlement, but he hasn't had access to the company in some time.”
Veronica frowned. “I thought you had the kids by—”
“Do not even bother saying it. I was never that... desperate. True, he was basically around for one reason and one only, but I didn't have to pay for some random idiot's genetic material to get what I wanted.”
Giles' face flamed red. “Um, Ms. Duke, are you sure you want me present for this? I know you said you wanted the accounting files, but I am not so sure you want me to witness this. Um...”
“Shut up,” Duke ordered, and he slumped down in his chair. She focused on Veronica. “I wanted to keep this internal, but at this point, there are very few people I trust in the company. Giles is one of the few, though you should probably start by eliminating him.”
“What? I didn't—I'm the one who brought the theft to your attention. And it is a bit clever and didn't seem like much, just like a few dollars from each account, but it builds up to a pretty big amount given how long I suspect it's been going on. The trouble is, I can't figure out if it was set up internally or not. It would be simple to think it was an earlier accountant, but it should have stopped if it was, since most of the ones I took over for are dead—”
“Dead?” Veronica asked, looking at Heather. “Are we talking older and retired or accidents or...?”
“A mix of all causes, I'd suspect,” her husband said, coming in the room. Duke gave him a dark look, not at all impressed by the amount of grease on his shirt or his jeans. He looked like he'd just lost a war with a barrel of sludge, and it was completely unprofessional. “Enough of a rotation to keep anyone from being overly suspicious even though the company was going through a lot of accounting personnel.”
Veronica looked at him. “Where were you?”
“Working on my car, in case that wasn't completely obvious,” he said, “Now how long have you known about this fraud and when did you take it to Ms. Duke? This morning? Because you probably shouldn't bet on having a long life-expectancy.”
Giles gulped. “What? But I... I didn't...”
“You know too much, therefore you would probably be slated for an accident later.”
Veronica winced. “You know, you could say that with a little more... sympathy.”
“I know sympathy? Since when?”
“Don't start,” Veronica said tightly.
“More trouble in paradise?”
“Fuck you, Heather,” they said in perfect unison, which meant they still agreed on something, at least. She supposed that was a victory of sorts.
“Though he does have a point,” Veronica said. “There is a chance that many of those deaths were not what they seemed, not if this scheme has been going on for a long time. Still, it may not be that. He is very much a worst-case scenario thinker, and someone killing every accountant to maintain a fraud, that is the worst possible outcome here. We don't know if that was the case.”
“I suppose you'll want to look at that angle, though,” Heather said. “I'll have the personnel files sent to you. I've got the accounting data—Giles has it—and he was supposed to give it to you, but he seems to have had trouble with your... gatekeeper.”
“A shame you didn't,” Jay said, smirking at her. “Though, remind me, Ronnie. My sister deserves a raise.”
“She could have cost us a case.”
“If she's that much of a terror to all potential clients, she gets double,” he insisted. “It is worth discriminating, and if they can't survive Enid, we don't want to work for them. They'd just piss me off, and that would get us nowhere.”
Heather shook her head. They were never going to make this business work. “What if his crazy theory is right and someone might try and kill Giles?”
“Oh, did I let you think he was the only one in danger?” Jay asked, sounding so innocent which only pissed her off as he finished. “He's not. You already know too much, Heather. I'd watch my back if I were you.”