Sunrise on Half Moon Bay - Robyn Carr Page 0,18

companies they might be involved with in business deals, contracts, that sort of thing. She texted a question.

I have a friend going through a divorce. Do you know a private investigator who does domestic investigations? I’d like to be able to recommend someone.

A name and phone number came back to her right away. She called a man named Logan Danner, a recently retired police lieutenant who worked for a private investigator’s office out of San Francisco. She asked to make an appointment to discuss a possible job. She named the detective who had recommended him and said the issue was domestic. And personal.

“Thanks. I’ll remember to tell him I appreciate the recommendation. Why don’t you tell me when you’re available and where I’ll be researching if you hire me. Then I can suggest a meeting place.”

“You don’t have an office?” she asked.

“Sure, but it’s better to meet in a public place that isn’t too busy. That way you’re not seen going into a PI’s office...”

“I go into PI’s offices from time to time, though mostly they come to me. I’m an attorney. However, in this—”

“Where and when, Mrs. Somersby. Let’s make this easy.”

She sighed. “I’m still just a little wobbly about doing this...”

“We’ll talk about that, too.”

“All right, you’re the expert. Any day after four and before seven, and I suppose you’ll be looking around San Jose and as far south as Half Moon Bay.”

“Perfect. There’s a great little Chinese restaurant in South San Jose called Chen’s. Have you been there?”

“I haven’t, no,” she said.

“Then it’s perfect. If we meet there at four thirty, it will be quiet. You can even get takeout for your dinner if you want to. Are you in a hurry?”

“Of course,” she said, but she said it tiredly. “Today?”

“Today it is,” he said. “Although it’s possible there won’t be many people in the place, I’m forty-eight and ordinary looking. Brown and brown. You?”

“Fifty-two, short blond hair, business attire.”

“Lawyer attire,” he added with a chuckle.

“I’m a corporate attorney,” she explained. “I read a lot of prospectuses. And contracts. And stock option proposals and documents filed with the SEC.”

“Noted,” he said. “See you a little later.”

For the rest of the day, she fluctuated between anxious for some details about her husband and frightened of what this detective might find. She wasn’t really sure if she hoped Scott wasn’t found to be doing anything egregious or if she hoped he was nailed with a red-hot poker. After all, what Adele had seen was not benign. Passionately kissing someone else was not allowed in their marriage.

Perhaps it was forgivable and survivable, however. She wasn’t sure how, but perhaps. However, was there enough love left between them?

* * *

She arrived at Chen’s a little early. There was no one dining at the time, and she told the hostess she’d be meeting someone at four thirty. The woman said, “You want food? Of course?”

“Of course,” Justine said, but she was thinking about what she could order that wasn’t exactly a meal. Her appetite had disappeared with Adele’s news. “A cup of tea for now, thank you.”

What she said and did today could decide the rest of her life. It was not too late to change her mind, forget about hiring a detective. If Scott ever found out... Wait a minute, she said to herself. He’s kissing some strange woman! That’s a worse crime than hiring a detective, isn’t it?

Her appointment walked in. Just his entrance alone was memorable. He spoke softly to the hostess, smiling at her. Then with an arm sweeping wide, the hostess indicated Justine. Logan Danner thanked her with another big smile and walked toward Justine.

“Mrs. Somersby?” he asked, putting out a hand.

“Yes. Thanks for meeting with me so quickly,” she said, noting his firm handshake.

“I’m happy to. It happens I’m not working tonight, so there’s plenty of time to talk about how I can help.”

“I’m not even sure what I’m looking for,” she said.

“How about I ask

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