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Brooke sighed. “Well, okay. But I’m perfectly capable of sitting in a restaurant and keeping an eye out for trouble. I’m a better photographer than you, that’s for sure.”

“We’re not snapping school portraits.”

“You have no idea what we’re doing,” Brooke retorted. “Besides, it’s not like we have a lot of choice.”

This was depressingly true. After Pop had passed and the jobs had dried up, Zach had been forced to let their only other experienced operative go. In fairness, Hank had been trying to retire for the last two years, so it had been more of an act of mercy to decline his reluctant offer tohang on till you kids get on your feet.

“What I was thinking was maybe we could hire Flint to provide some backup.”

“Flint?” Brooke looked surprised—and then thoughtful.

“It doesn’t seem like he’s a lot busier than we are.”

“True. And he’s a lot more experienced.”

Zach opened his mouth to object to that, but it was true. Irritating, but true. He settled on, “At field work, yes.”

“I didn’t think you planned to have him go over our books. Speaking of which, how would we pay him?”

“We have the spending money Alton gave me. Not to mention the advance he paid. We only need Flint for a couple of hours here and there. I think we could swing it.” It would be worth it to have some kind of reinforcements—preferably someone not on Alton’s payroll.

“That’s actually a good idea.” Brooke’s tone seemed to hint this was an unexpected first.

“Can you phone him and ask him to come in for a meeting?”

“Why don’t you just go over and talk to him now?”

“Because that’s going to look like I’m asking for a favor. We’re going to—try to—hirehim.”

Brooke rolled her eyes. “Oh my God. I get it. It’s a power-play thing.”

“Yes.No.But he doesn’t take anything seriously. He doesn’t takeusseriously. We have to be professional about this.”

Brooke uttered a much put-upon sigh. “Fine.” She reached for the phone, and Zach started for his office, Mr. Bigglesworth draped around his neck.

Brooke called, “By the way, Ben stopped by this weekend.”

Zach stopped in his tracks, his heart sinking. “Ben stopped by Mom’s?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Why?”

Brooke’s grim expression didn’t match her casual tone. “Because, per Mom, Ben will always be welcome because he’ll always be part of our family. They had a nice couple of hours commiserating with each other over you.”

Zach absorbed this intelligence unhappily. Despite, probably sincere, efforts on both sides, he and his mother had never been close. And relations had not improved following what Mom considered the twin disastrous decisions to keep the detective agency open and break up with Ben.

“So long as everybody’s happy,” he said with a lightness he didn’t feel.

Brooke started to reply, but her expression changed and she said in her best official business voice, “Hi, Arlisse; it’s Brooke. Is Flint available to take a meeting this afternoon?”

Maybe Flint had read the sameHow to Succeed in Businessarticles as Zach because it turned out he had but one available time slot in his busy, busy day, and that was four minutes after Brooke phoned. Whether this was gamesmanship or he really did have more clients than Zach and Brooke calculated, he arrived in their lobby, damp and slightly disheveled, wearing blue jeans and a gray hoodie. He smelled of rain and mouthwash, and did not appear to have shaved for the last three days. He was also slightly out of breath from his jog across the parking lot, dodging numerous cars driven by maniacs desperately seeking spaces closer to the shops.

Even so, even damp, disheveled, and disapproving, there was something about Flint. Something that made it hard to dismiss him however much Zach tried. Flint had presence; a raw, vaguely disturbing virility that seemed to charge the air around him.

“Hi, Flint!” Brooke greeted him brightly as he dripped on their welcome mat. She liked Flint.

“Hey, kiddo.” Flint pushed back his soaked hood. His sun-streaked brown hair was a mass of wet ringlets, giving him a slightly crazed look. “Zachariah.”