"Thank you, yes," said Austen, rising. I followed his cue and we stepped outside into the busy corridor. An orderly passed us, pushing a trolley and whistling a tune. Two older women walked past, bouquets of flowers in their arms, and I could hear laughter somewhere. "I'm not sure what else I can tell you," he added.
"I think that's enough for now. When you can, please email me all of Sophie's personal information. Things like her birthdate, phone number, social security number, resume, and anything else about her you can think of."
"I can do that. What will you do next?" Austen inquired. "You are taking the case?"
"Yes, I am. I'll confirm that Sophie is whom she says she is, which shouldn't take too long, and then I want to take another trip to the house and speak to the construction crew and any other people she knew. Perhaps this was a terrible accident and someone who is scared of losing their job was involved. I don't think we should jump to any conclusions, not just yet. Give me a few days to look deeper into things and please call me if you need any help or want someone to sit with her while you go home to rest. I know this is a difficult time."
Austen thanked me and I left before Sophie's nurse reappeared. As I walked out of the hospital, I called Solomon. "I made a decision," I told him. "I'm going to take the Takahashi case."
"I meant I made a decision about the bank. We're taking that case. I'm going to need your help since you are the only person at the agency who witnessed the real-time events."
"Okay," I agreed. "I can do that but I'm not sure what else I can tell you."
"Perhaps something might spark a memory for you. You might not realize everything you do know yet," said Solomon.
"Apparently, we know nothing about the bank," I retorted. "If Charlie Sampson can be believed."
"All the more reason why I need you on the team. Can your case take a backseat for a few days?"
"Not really. The Takahashis really need my help."
"Austen Takahashi?"
"Yeah, that's him. Do you know him?"
"No, but I recognize his name. Built his firm from the ground up, made a lot of money, and knows plenty of powerful people. Does lots of philanthropy work alongside it all. He relocated to Montgomery and created countless jobs."
"You sound pretty impressed."
"I am. Tell me about it over lunch?"
"On my way."
Chapter Seven
Solomon was already seated at a table next to the window when I arrived. He was sipping from a plain mug. I leaned in to kiss him and give him a quick hug before I took the seat opposite. "Did you order already?" I asked.
Solomon shook his head. "Just coffee. I thought I'd wait for you."
"You just want to know what I'm going to order."
"I might want to eat yours too. I'm hungry."
"Busy day?"
"A day without enough snacks."
"Rough." I nodded sympathetically as I picked up the menu, browsing it and mentally choosing seven plates. If I came back every day for a week, I could eat them all. If Solomon picked one, and I ate half of it and picked a different one, I could reduce the amount of visits to five. Not for the first time in my life, I realized math really was quite useful in the real world.
When the waitress arrived, Solomon ordered a burger and fries and I ordered the same plus a coffee, as I redid my mental math. I was pretty sure my initial equation was wrong, so what the hell? I just had to return more often.
"That's a look of pure concentration on your face. What are you thinking about?" asked Solomon.
"Food."
"You are such a Graves," he said.
"Speaking of family, we haven't discussed Mom and Dad's pasta party. What should we bring?"
"Pasta?"
I rolled my eyes. "That's a given. Do we make a special sauce? Or bring a side dish? I could make pasta from scratch?"
A smile played on Solomon's lips. "Can you do that?" he asked.
"No."
"Do you have time?"
"No."
"Then, how were you planning to make it?"
"There's a new Italian deli two blocks from the house that makes it. The owner's father is from Sicily and he only shouts in Italian but he understands some English. If I walk there, I’ll cover the effort part. Just don't tell anyone."
"I've got your back," said Solomon, smiling now. "I'll make that spicy sausage sauce you like."
I beamed at him. "We've nailed married life."
"Absolutely." We paused as our food was delivered and for a few minutes allowed the busy sounds of the late lunch crowd to wash over us. "Where are you with the bank case?" I asked.
"It completely perplexes me."
"Sounds about right."
"I can't imagine how Charlie Sampson expects us to solve it. I feel like he wants us to wear blindfolds and handcuffs before trying to make our way through a maze."
Until Solomon mentioned a maze, that sounded exciting. "So you're turning him down after all?" I wondered.
"I agreed to take it. It might be the most challenging thing we've done to date."
"Remember that time we took down a serial killer?" I reminded him.
"Don't remind me."
"Or when we solved the murder of a pop princess?"
"I try to never think about that." Solomon took a bite of his burger before putting it down and wiping his mouth with the napkin. There was really no need. I would have happily licked his face. "It's almost impossible to solve and maybe that’s why the case creates so much intrigue. That, and the FBI’s appearance tell me it's something much bigger than Charlie is letting on. I have to admit, my curiosity is getting the better of me." His eyes narrowed.
"And?" I prompted, wondering what he wasn't admitting, although I could guess.
"And those thieves could have hurt you," he said, looking out the window but not before I saw the flash of pain on his face. "What if you were the one that got shot?"
"I didn't." When Solomon didn't reply, I reached for his hand, squeezing it. "Hey," I said softly. "I didn't get hurt. I'm fine and now I can provide more critical assistance as a primary witness."
"Which is why I assigned you to the case," said Solomon. "Also, stop stealing my fries with your other hand."
"When you find the perpetrators, what will you do?" I asked, withdrawing four fries and hastily eating them.
Solomon shrugged. "Hand them over."
"The fries? Too late."
"The thieves," he clarified.
"Straight away?"
Solomon returned his gaze to me. "Eventually," he said, his voice thick with anger.
"No vigilante justice," I said. "I wasn't hurt, remember? Whomever these guys are, they will not have just a book, but a whole library thrown at them for shooting a cop. They'll never see the light of day again from their prison cells."
"That worries me."
"Why? It's a good thing."