“Right. Of course I do. What’s wrong?”

“I got hurt.” He swallows and winces as he shifts in his seat. “Tore my rotator cuff.”

“WHAT? Oh, my God, Rhys—”

“I’m fine.”

I look into his green eyes, and I know he’s lying. “No, you’re not.”

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’ll need surgery. I’m out for the season.”

“Rhys.” I wish I could hug him. Baseball has been his life since he was five years old. It’s been the one constant in his life, even after his parents died.

It’s his life.

“I’m going home to Denver,” he continues. “I’ll see the doctors there, do some therapy. I’ll be fine.”

“Rhys.”

He sighs again, and finally he says, “Careers end because of this, Kate. I can’t lose baseball. I’m only twenty-eight, for Godsake.”

“I’ll be home in a couple weeks, tops, and I’ll take care of you.”

He smirks. “I don’t need a mommy.”

“Maybe I just need to be there to be helpful.”

He clears his throat and talks to someone else in the room. “I have to go. I wanted to fill you in.”

“Have you called Ma and Da?” I ask.

“They’re next. Love you. See you soon.”

“Love you too.”

“He’ll be okay,” Eli says from the doorway, fastening the cuff-links on his shirt. I nod and set the phone aside, quickly brush on some mascara and lip gloss, resigned that this is as good as it gets today, and walk out of the bathroom.

“I know. Let me get some clothes on, and let’s go.”

***

“Hi Kate, this is Adam, the private investigator you spoke with last week?”

“Yes! Please tell me you’ve found something.” I shift in my chair, gathering papers and a pen to make notes with.

“I have; I just hope it’s something you can use. You mentioned that there is no employee named H. Peters at Bayou Industries, in any department.”

“That’s right.”

“I had to do some digging into each of the employees and their families, and let me tell you, there are a lot of people who work there.”

“Tell me about it.”

“You have an employee there named Gerald Rudolph. Didn’t get to him until I hit the ‘R’s.” All of the hair on my body stands on end.

“We do.”

“His wife’s maiden name is Hannah Peters.”

Bingo. I shimmy in my seat, doing the happy dance.

“Thanks, Adam. Can you email that information to me?”

“Sure thing. There is other info in the reports too, including a description of the woman who picks up the checks.”

“Great job, Adam. Thanks again.” I immediately call Eli’s office and sigh in relief when he answers. “I need a meeting with you, Beau, and Van ASAP.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. We’re about to wrap this case up.”

There’s a long pause, and then, “Be in my office in thirty minutes.”

“But Van is at the inn.”

“She’s at the doctor for a check up. She’ll be here.”

He hangs up, and I sit for a second and frown at the phone. Why did he sound so…cold? Solving this case is what I was hired to do. He should be happy that it’s almost over.

I use the next twenty minutes to print out all of the information I’ve gathered, along with the email from Adam when it comes through.

The elevator seems to take forever. This is the part of my job that I love so much. The part when I get to sit before those who hired me and tell them who and how. The satisfaction of knowing that the job was done well. My whole body is humming with excitement when I walk into Eli’s office and see that Beau and Van are already there.

“Thanks for meeting with me.”

The door closes behind me, and I sit in a seat between Beau and Van, facing Eli.

“Who is it?” Beau asks immediately.

“Gerald Rudolph.”

“Impossible,” Eli says calmly.

“No, it’s not impossible.” I explain the suspicions I brought to Van’s attention over the weekend, and then show them the evidence that Adam sent over. “His wife’s maiden name is Peters. Hannah Peters. Every transfer went to Western Union to an H. Peters.”

Savannah is shaking her head. “This doesn’t make sense. He has no reason to steal, Kate. He makes a very good salary. He’s been with us for a very long time.”

“That’s how it usually is,” I reply gently. “The person responsible is typically someone that is trusted. Loyal, even.”

“I guess that people make poor decisions when they have a lot of stress in their lives,” Savannah says slowly.

“Thank you, Kate,” Eli says and stands, showing me the door. He’s suddenly a stranger, and I don’t like it. “We will go over this evidence, and discuss, and let you know if we need anything further.”

“Are you okay?” I ask, frowning at him.

“Of course.”

I stop in the middle of the office and stare at him. Finally, he simply leans in and whispers in my ear. “We will talk later. Have a good afternoon.”

And with that, I’m shown through the door.

I return to my office and decide to make additional copies of all of the reports I just gave to Eli.