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“I don’t understand,” Brooke said. “Rusty and Alton didn’t go into business together. They dissolved their partnership.”

“That’s true. But Rusty didn’t cancel the insurance policy. He—Old Timey Fun, Ltd.—has been faithfully paying those premiums for the last fifteen years.”

“Can he do that?”

“He can. It could probably be challenged in court because Alton is not, and has never been, a key figure in Old Timey Fun Ltd.’s operations, but the premiums have been paid and it’s possible Rusty or someone in his employ has altered employee records to make it appear like Alton was acting as an advisor or consultant or silent partner.”

“But wouldn’t Beacher know about this insurance policy?” Flint objected.

“He’d certainly have known when the policy was drawn up. But he’d reasonably assume the policy was canceled when the partnership with Rusty fell through. Rusty might even have told him itwascanceled.”

“Great. How do we prove it?” Brooke asked, looking from Zach to Flint.

Flint grimaced. His gaze met Zach’s. “We don’t. Do we?”

Zach shook his head. “We have to hand this over to the EDS PD.”

Brook’s face fell. Flint looked noncommittal. Zach amended, “Or the sheriff’s office, I guess.” Depending on whose good graces they most wanted to stay in.

Flint studied him for a moment. He said briskly, “EDS PD, it is.”

Zach relaxed, just managed not to beam at him, but that was his preference for sure.

Brooke was not taking it nearly as well. “Wait. We’re handingeverything over to the police?”

Though Zach shared her disappointment, he said firmly, “We have to. We’ve taken this as far as we can. We don’t even have a client.”

“Well, that sucks.”

“I agree,” Flint said. “But that’s the name of the game. We can’t legally withhold evidence from law enforcement. Not if we want to hang onto our PI licenses. Plus, the sheriff’s office still considers your brother a viable suspect. We want to take him off the board as soon as possible.”

“Oh.” Brooke said. She looked thoughtful. “Isupposewe need him...”

“I appreciate that,” Zach said.

Brooke’s grin was unrepentant. Flint’s, exaggeratedly wolfish as he said, “I’m counting on it—your appreciation, that is.”

“Two dicks and a dame is right,” Brooke murmured.

“Huh?” Flint threw her a startled glance.

“I’ll explain it to you later,” said Zach, but he was surprised and maybe even nonplussed at Flint’s open flirtation.

For a second or two no one said anything. It was definitely an anticlimactic end to their first case as a partnership. Still, Zach was reasonably confident they were on the right trail, and it was to their advantage to get in good with EDS PD.

Finally, Brooke sighed, seeming to shake off her disappointment. “Okay, well, if that’s that, I’m taking off.” She turned away, throwing over her shoulder, “You two have fun storming the castle or whatever you get up to. I’ve got a date.”

Zach opened his mouth to ask—but Flint shook his head. Zach grimaced and subsided.

“Let’s go make Bill Cameron’s day,” Flint said.

Two hours later they stood in the parking lot in front of Del Selmo Police Department, beneath the buzzing power lines and flickering parking lot lights.

Flint was saying, “Oh well, it never hurts to keep in with the cops. Cameron’s a useful guy to have on our side.”

No lie. After they’d handed over everything they had to a very surprised and cautiously optimistic Lt. Bill Cameron, Cameron had gone so far as to bring them up to speed on some of the details of the police investigation, including the prior-to-their-visit imminent arrest of Ransford Beacher, who did indeed figure prominently in his brother’s will.

“Realistically, I don’t think we had another choice,” Zach replied. “We’d be spending a lot of non-billable hours tracking down records and documents the police can get in a fraction of that time. And who knows what would happen within that window?”