Free The Fallen Angels Book Club by R. Franklin James

tell the police. I agree with you. It’s the right thing to do.”
    She didn’t fool me. I knew she had absolutely no intention of talking to the police.

CHAPTER NINE
    E very once in a while I missed having a best friend. Dinner with Abby reminded me of how I’d isolated myself since getting out. I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t let anyone in. There was no room. I was too full of shame.
    At work the next morning, I decided to do something I never thought I’d do. I’d run all the club members through PeopleSearch. At Triple D, we used PeopleSearch to verify client backgrounds and track down missing heirs. We weren’t supposed to use it for personal reasons, but I had to know who I was dealing with. I could only check under the names that club members used now. I started with Gene—the guy with the meticulously groomed eyebrows—who apparently hadn’t changed his name. Even so, his profile was limited. Now thirty-seven, Gene had served his time for libel and bribing a federal official. I read the pages quickly. There didn’t appear to be any gaping holes.
    Putting aside my guilt, I finished gathering information on all the remaining members. Nothing incriminating popped up.
    I checked the newspaper. A small article reported Rory’s murder and one of his aliases. I took a slow breath when nothing showed up about the club.
    â€œHi.” Avery stood in my doorway. “Something interesting in today’s paper?”
    â€œNo, just taking a break at my desk.” Heart pounding, I put the paper aside and clicked my screen to dark. “What can I help you with?”
    I saw him glance over the stacks of my files.
    â€œA new probate assignment. Pretty straightforward. Not a big estate.” He dropped the paperwork on top of the files closest to the edge. “Finish your break and then come see me.”
    â€œNo, it’s …” I started to protest but realized I needed the time to reset my state of mind.
    The new probate assignment would help distract me from obsessing over Rory’s murder for a brief while; I was in danger of driving myself crazy. I sought the reassuring smell of law books sitting solidly on library shelves to center me. Researching appeal cases to defend inheritance claims was my specialty. I placed yellow Post-its to mark the applicable case citations, which would save time when it came to drafting the lengthy points and authorities. I put aside a stack of books on a nearby library table. Mark, in the opposite aisle going through the federal directory, smiled at me.
    â€œMark, how would you track down someone who may or may not have had a name changed by the court?”
    â€œYou got a social?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œDid you run him through PeopleSearch?”
    â€œThat was the first thing I did.”
    â€œOkay. There’s this new software called Inquiry First. I’ve been beta-testing it for the other associates, and it seems reliable. You can use my computer with the network password. The icon is on the start-up screen. All you need is the name he’s using now, the state of residence and his birth date. His known aliases should show up. Remember, even though it’s a beta site and we’re not being billed, you still need a case code to charge it to.”
    â€œThanks. I’m trying to anticipate what Avery needs for this real picky client we’re trying to sign.” I told myself to shut up. Any ex-con knows explanations are dead giveaways that you’re lying.
    â€œSure. Well, it should get you what you want.” He turned back to the shelves.
    I was glad I had helped Mark the other morning. Now we were even.
    How would I get birth dates? The club talked about celebrating birthdays, but it made too many of us nervous to give up personal information about ourselves. I was a terrible judge of age and I’d have to guess. Then I’d have to be careful not to get