because they knew they could get away with it and other people didn't stop them. The Hot Lunch cheated, and Lynnie stole, and that guy in New Albany tormented a dog, and Tim dumped her and left her looking like she was a million years old-her heart clutched at the memory of the mirror-and nobody paid. Except she couldn't be mad at Tim, he'd played fair, it was her fault she looked like hell, she couldn't be mad.
Sitting there in the dim office, she realized that she wanted to be mad, wanted to say, "No, you can't just change your mind after twenty-two years of marriage, you spaghetti-spined weasel." But that wouldn't have been productive, it would make things more difficult for everybody, it would do nobody any good at all. Imagine if she'd screamed at Tim when he'd said he was leaving; their divorce would have been hell instead of civilized and fair. Imagine if she'd screamed and thrown things; they'd never have been able to maintain the friendly relationship they had now. Imagine if she'd screamed and thrown things and grabbed him by the-
"Nell." Riley said and she swung around in her chair to face his office doorway.
"Yes. What?" She frowned at him. "Don't yell. Why didn't you buzz me?"
"I did. I'm leaving. Back around five."
"Okay," Nell said, and then she frowned, transferring her frustration with Tim and Lynnie to him. "Explain this to me. You guys do background checks all the time. Why didn't you do one on Lynnie?"
"We did, or at least my mother did when she hired her. She had great references." Riley dropped his datebook on her desk. "Ogilvie and Dysart, same as you. She was only supposed to be here for a month until Mom got back. That's why the appointments have never been in the computer. My mother doesn't like computers."
"That explains a lot," Nell said. "So your mother quit?"
"She decided to take a two-week trip to Florida in the middle of July, hired Lynnie, and then when she got down there, decided to stay. That's when we made Lynnie permanent. There wasn't any reason not to trust her."
"I suppose," Nell said. "It just makes me mad that she got in here."
"Yeah, I can see you're frothing," Riley said.
"I'm a quiet kind of person," Nell said. "I do a subtle mad."
"Kind of takes the fun out of it, doesn't it?" He headed for the door, and then stopped. "Did you get lunch? I can cover the phones for a while if you want to go out."
"I'm not hungry," Nell said.
"Okay. If Gabe asks, I'm out working on the Quarterly Report."
"The what?"
"Trevor Ogilvie," Riley said, from the doorway. "Of the infamous Ogilvie and Dysart, Attorneys at Law. He hires us to check on his daughter every three months to see what she's doing."
Nell gaped at him. "He hires you to check on Margie?"
"No, we check on Olivia, the twenty-one-year-old.
Margie is the older daughter, right? By the first wife? Margie evidently makes no waves."
"I forgot about Olivia," Nell said, remembering Margie's spoiled little stepsister. "I don't think she and Margie talk much." She sat back. "So Trevor hires you to follow Olivia?"
Riley nodded. "It's his idea of parenting, and it's a miracle he survives the reports. Olivia has a very good time. Oh, and before I forget, we are not rescuing SugarPie."
"Who?"
"SugarPie, your abused dog," Riley turned back to the doorway. "Rule number two: We do not break the law."
"There are two rules?" Nell asked, but the office door slammed before she finished her sentence. "You know, it's rude to do that," she said and then picked up Riley's datebook to enter it into the computer, trying not to think about the dog and the Hot Lunch and everything else that needed to be fixed- in the world.
Chapter Three
"You've got to admit, the place is cleaner," Riley said when he came into Gabe's office the next morning to find him scowling at his desk.
"So clean I can't find anything." Gabe shuffled through the papers on his desk. "She stacked things."
"That's a woman for you." Riley sat down across from him and
Sitting there in the dim office, she realized that she wanted to be mad, wanted to say, "No, you can't just change your mind after twenty-two years of marriage, you spaghetti-spined weasel." But that wouldn't have been productive, it would make things more difficult for everybody, it would do nobody any good at all. Imagine if she'd screamed at Tim when he'd said he was leaving; their divorce would have been hell instead of civilized and fair. Imagine if she'd screamed and thrown things; they'd never have been able to maintain the friendly relationship they had now. Imagine if she'd screamed and thrown things and grabbed him by the-
"Nell." Riley said and she swung around in her chair to face his office doorway.
"Yes. What?" She frowned at him. "Don't yell. Why didn't you buzz me?"
"I did. I'm leaving. Back around five."
"Okay," Nell said, and then she frowned, transferring her frustration with Tim and Lynnie to him. "Explain this to me. You guys do background checks all the time. Why didn't you do one on Lynnie?"
"We did, or at least my mother did when she hired her. She had great references." Riley dropped his datebook on her desk. "Ogilvie and Dysart, same as you. She was only supposed to be here for a month until Mom got back. That's why the appointments have never been in the computer. My mother doesn't like computers."
"That explains a lot," Nell said. "So your mother quit?"
"She decided to take a two-week trip to Florida in the middle of July, hired Lynnie, and then when she got down there, decided to stay. That's when we made Lynnie permanent. There wasn't any reason not to trust her."
"I suppose," Nell said. "It just makes me mad that she got in here."
"Yeah, I can see you're frothing," Riley said.
"I'm a quiet kind of person," Nell said. "I do a subtle mad."
"Kind of takes the fun out of it, doesn't it?" He headed for the door, and then stopped. "Did you get lunch? I can cover the phones for a while if you want to go out."
"I'm not hungry," Nell said.
"Okay. If Gabe asks, I'm out working on the Quarterly Report."
"The what?"
"Trevor Ogilvie," Riley said, from the doorway. "Of the infamous Ogilvie and Dysart, Attorneys at Law. He hires us to check on his daughter every three months to see what she's doing."
Nell gaped at him. "He hires you to check on Margie?"
"No, we check on Olivia, the twenty-one-year-old.
Margie is the older daughter, right? By the first wife? Margie evidently makes no waves."
"I forgot about Olivia," Nell said, remembering Margie's spoiled little stepsister. "I don't think she and Margie talk much." She sat back. "So Trevor hires you to follow Olivia?"
Riley nodded. "It's his idea of parenting, and it's a miracle he survives the reports. Olivia has a very good time. Oh, and before I forget, we are not rescuing SugarPie."
"Who?"
"SugarPie, your abused dog," Riley turned back to the doorway. "Rule number two: We do not break the law."
"There are two rules?" Nell asked, but the office door slammed before she finished her sentence. "You know, it's rude to do that," she said and then picked up Riley's datebook to enter it into the computer, trying not to think about the dog and the Hot Lunch and everything else that needed to be fixed- in the world.
Chapter Three
"You've got to admit, the place is cleaner," Riley said when he came into Gabe's office the next morning to find him scowling at his desk.
"So clean I can't find anything." Gabe shuffled through the papers on his desk. "She stacked things."
"That's a woman for you." Riley sat down across from him and
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