Page 36 of The Attercop

Don’t worry, I won’t come back and disturb your customers. I’ll wait until after they’re all gone.

Chapter Seventeen

Charlie yawned and checked the time. It was a little after four and he was getting ready to wrap up his work for the day. He’d located all the notes on the Rick Frazer case and checked his actions against the rules of conduct for a PI. As far as he could tell, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

After he’d forwarded the files to Mrs B to send to the lawyer, Charlie had researched the extra surveillance equipment he planned to install in Jules’ dorm room. He was just finishing typing up the order when Declan rushed by, headed upstairs, and ten minutes later poked his nose into Charlie’s office. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt, khakis and brown loafers.

Okay, so it looks like we’re going to a business casual place tonight.

“Where’s Mrs B gotten to?” Declan asked.

“She found out that the owner of the dog is dead. Its name is Duck, by the way.”

Declan smirked. “Duck?”

“Yup. Duck. Anyway, it looks like Mrs B decided to keep him. They’re off picking up a leash and collar, and whatever else a Duck needs to be happy.”

Declan shook his head.

“You know,” Charlie continued, “he’s taken to sleeping in my spare chair whenever the sun’s on it. Can’t he tuck himself under Mrs B’s desk or something?”

“Aw…he wuvs you,” Declan said in a baby voice. “And who could blame him.”

“If he loves me so much, why does he snap at me whenever I try to shoo him out of my office?”

“Probably the same reason I do. Because he can’t stand to be away from you.”

Charlie shot him his best ‘it’s-not-working’ look.

“You’ve become so cranky since you turned twenty-six,” Declan said, grinning. “I can’t imagine what you’ll be like at fifty.” He made his way around the desk and gave Charlie a kiss. “You’re just lucky that I’ve recently acquired a taste for cranky old men.”

Charlie pushed him away. “Speaking of older men, how did your meeting go with Sawchuck?”

Declan brushed the dog hairs off Charlie’s spare chair, and plopped himself into it.

“It never happened. I wound up going over to the hospital to see Angel instead.”

“How’s he doing?”

“He woke up,” Declan said.

“Wow! Mickey must be relieved.”

“He is, but Angel’s still in pretty rough shape. Fortunately, he was awake long enough to confirm that the picture we found on the CCTV was the guy who beat him up. I sent the image to Sawchuck and asked if he could find out anything about the suspect.”

“I’m glad the police have something to go on,” Charlie said.

Declan leaned forward. “What was interesting was what the attackersaidto Angel. It was about Angel haunting my dreams.”

“O…kay. That’s kinda weird. Wait a minute—weren’t we talking about you dreaming about Angel the other night?”

Declan nodded. “That’s what I thought. And besides you and Michael, nobody else would know that—”

“Unless they’d read about it in your session files from Michael’s,” Charlie finished.

“Exactly,” Declan said. “And that got me thinking that maybe whoever broke into Michael’s might be connected to whoever beat up Angel. I called Michael and checked to see if anyone had recently been in the office talking about me, but that seems to be a dead end. She did say that she had a strange client come in on the day of the break-in, but he didn’t match the picture of the guy who beat up Angel.”

“What if it was two guys, Angel’s attacker and Michael’s client, and they were working together?”