Fatal Connections

Chapter 1

I'd pay a million dollars for a good night's sleep, if I thought such a thing could be bought. But it wasn't my nightmares that woke me at the ridiculously early hour of 4:50 am on a Saturday, it was my phone. I let it go, and the ringing stopped. A few seconds later, it started up again.

I rolled toward the side table where the phone jangled and aimed my hand in its general direction. As luck would have it, my hand landed right on it, so I grabbed it and by forcing my eyes open, I saw the caller ID. Marian Harcourt. WTF?

So I answered with "Yeah?" which came out more like "Ugh."

"Erica, we're in trouble," she whined. "Please come to the house. Right now."

I suppressed a groan and several colorful phrases. "This can't wait until the sun comes up?"

"We're in danger. And I can't call the police." Her voice, edged with panic, spiked upward when she said "police."

Okay. The Harcourts, a married couple, had hired me to run a background check on a possible hire—a live-in personal assistant. Now she was calling me about an imminent threat, but why me and not the police?

I sighed loudly into the phone. "Why not?" I tried not to snarl the words.

"Nick told us you were a Marine. Help us. Please."

Am a Marine. I suppressed the correction that came to mind. Just because I'm not actively deployed doesn't mean I've lost my membership card.

I tried to focus, which could be hard for me even in the best of times. I wasn't sure why she felt the need to call in the Marines and not the police, but the desperation in her voice sounded very real. I had the sense that questioning Marian's state of mind could lead to a discussion I was ill-equipped to handle without more careful thought. Or more precisely, coffee.

I cleared my throat. "I gotta get dressed and stop for coffee." My voice held only a touch of snark, when I added, "Don't worry. I'll make it to-go." Then I hung up.

Madness? Sure. But that's life for a Marine veteran who digs up information as an unlicensed private eye.