Free Vanished (Private Justice Book #1): A Novel by Irene Hannon Page B

the impetuous type.
    Gripping the wheel, he quashed the renegade urge. His memories of Lindsey were enough to sustain him.
    Besides, it seemed Moira Harrison might become a client after all. And the unwritten rule was that Phoenix PIs didn’t date clients.
    Not even hot ones.

    “You with us, Connor?” Cal positioned the speaker phone on the conference room table and took a seat beside Dev.
    A yawn came over the line as a U2 song played in the background. “Yeah, I’m here. But I’d rather be in bed.”
    “I’ll be back to relieve you at noon,” Dev reminded him.
    “Promises, promises.”
    “You guys got some nice shots last night when you followed our subject to the mall parking lot. We ought to be able to wrap this up soon.” Cal turned a pen end-to-end on the yellow tablet in front of him.
    “I can’t believe he did the handoff out in the open like that, even if it was dark. The guy’s a real amateur.” Dev shook his head.
    “Not to mention a scumbag.” Connor’s voice was laced with disgust.
    “Go ahead, Connor, tell us how you really feel.” One side of Cal’s mouth quirked up.
    “Hey. I don’t have to be PC anymore. That’s one of the beauties of this job. I can call it like I see it without pussyfooting around or worrying about department protocols. And what that guy’s doing is unconscionable.”
    “I agree.” Dev’s face hardened. “We do our job, not even the best defense attorney will get him off.”
    “Hopefully we caught him in the act with one of the motion-activated cameras you planted when you went to fix that ‘electrical problem’ last week at the hospice.” Cal checked out his partner’s blue work shirt, jeans, and tool belt. “Are you retrieving today?”
    “Why else would I be dressed like this?”
    “Because you have a secret wish to be Tim the Tool Man?”
    “Cute.”
    “I thought it was.” Cal uncapped his pen and switched gears. “Okay. Let’s move on to the reason I asked for this meeting so we can all get back to work.”
    “Moira Harrison.” Dev grinned at him.
    Cal shot him a disgruntled look. “How did you know that?”
    Smirk still in place, Dev lifted one shoulder. “Call it intuition. Or it could be the fact that I just happened to notice her file is now front and center on your desk when I just happened to wander into your office to borrow your stapler before this meeting.”
    “So you were trespassing?”
    “Nah. We’re all friends here.”
    “Don’t push your luck, buddy.”
    “While this exchange is highly entertaining, could we get to the point? My talk radio show is about to start.” Connor’s last word ended on a yawn.
    “Eat some of those pistachios you carry around or you’re going to fall asleep.” Cal played with the cap on his pen. “Okay, Dev’s right. This is about Moira Harrison. There’s been a new development.”
    He could only see Dev’s body language as he spoke, but Cal suspected Connor was having the same reaction. Dev folded his arms over his chest. Cocked his head. Raised an eyebrow.
    Translation? Curious but skeptical.
    As he finished, Dev leaned forward. “This guy sounds like a boy scout. What do you propose?”
    “We could dig a little into his background. There might be something that would help us get a handle on what’s going on. And Connor, just to be clear, this would have to be a pro bono case.” Moira’s macaroni and cheese reference last night flashed through his mind. Journalism might be a noble profession, but from everything he’d heard, it didn’t pay squat—even for Pulitzer prize nominees. “She doesn’t have the resources to fund a full investigation.”
    “The hospice job is paying well. So did my gig in Bermuda. I don’t see a problem with pro bono unless this gets a lot more complicated than we expect. I’m okay with some preliminary digging.”
    Cal looked at Dev.
    The other man shrugged. “I’m in.”
    “All right. I’ll work with Nikki on this. She loves