An Eye For Illusion: A Private Investigator Romantic Suspense: (Dunn Security Group Book 2)

Chapter 2

I’ve watched Elliott Moore for over three weeks now. Aside from a small but significant detail, the schedule Jade Foster gave me is pretty accurate so far.

Little ol’ Elliott has made two undisclosed stops at a bar, and if it was just any old bar, it wouldn’t raise questions. A lot of men like to swing by and have a quick drink with work colleagues or friends before heading home. To the untrained eye, that’s exactly what it looks like Elliott Moore is doing.

But I have a feeling he’s up to something else entirely. This kind of bar isn’t up to par with the ‘caliber’ Jade Foster would approve of.

It’s a little seedy and on the sketchy side of town. It’s too far from his work to be convenient. I pull the ball cap down low on my head as I exit the discrete black sedan and follow Elliott into said bar.

I’m wearing worn blue jeans that are ripped at the knees from years of use, not for show, and a black t-shirt with my favorite pair of boots. I should have no problem blending in with the crowd. It’s the man just up ahead of me who will stick out like a sore thumb. He’s wearing a slim three-piece black suit with shiny dress shoes and a tie.

I snort. I’m pretty sure precious Jade Foster would have a conniption if she knew her precious fiancé was in this kind of joint.

He’s come here twice in the short time I’ve watched him. The first time, I stayed in the car and timed how long he was in there and scoped out the people coming and going from inside. Forty-five minutes almost exactly on the dot. Enough time for one drink, maybe two, but not enough time to get comfortable.

I watch as Moore goes to a back corner booth. His back is rigid, but that’s the only outward sign that he’s uncomfortable. He stops and speaks to a passing server before sliding down into the booth, his back facing me and hiding his gaze from my prying eyes.

I’m curious to see what has this man’s panties in a twist because, since I started watching him, all I’ve seen is a cocky son of a bitch. It only took me a few days to figure out how arrogant this man is. He has a natural sway that tells the world he’s in charge and how full of himself he is. He’s charming, handsome, and obviously has money, but as far as I can tell, there isn’t much below the plastic exterior.

Much like his fiancé.

I find an empty bar stool where I can keep eyes on the booth but also hide in shadows. I slip onto the seat, making sure my cap is still pulled down.

So far, Moore is by himself. I quickly order a beer from the bartender as I sit back and watch the man of the hour. The server comes and goes, dropping a drink at Moore’s table before leaving once again.

I look down at my watch. It’s been twenty minutes, and Moore hasn’t interacted with anyone but the waitress.

What the hell are we doing here, man?

He seems to get impatient, shifting in his seat and pulling out his phone every few seconds before aggressively placing it back down on the table. He only nurses his drink and hasn’t ordered any food.

Not that anyone—especially anyone like him—would come to a joint like this for the food.

The bartender leans over, speaking low to the girl serving Moore since he got here. The action draws my attention, and I casually change my position and lean in to hear them better. My gut tells me it’s about Moore. Years of experience and training allow me to pick up the barely audible conversation.

“Tell him his friend isn’t coming.”

Her eyes narrow, and she juts a thumb over her shoulder, pointing at the pouting, well-dressed man in the back corner. The bartender simply nods and walks over to take care of waiting customers.

The young server spins on her heels and heads directly over to Moore. When she reaches him, she leans down so he can hear her over the din in the establishment. Moore visibly has a hard time focusing on her moving lips because his eyes are glued to her chest. But judging by the way his eyes snap up to meet hers, she just delivered the bad news that whoever he’s waiting for isn’t coming.

Moore rises so hastily from his seat he knocks the poor waitress back on her heels. Luckily, she catches herself, no thanks to the douche who’s too busy storming past her toward the exit to give a damn.

I throw down enough bills to cover my beer and tip. I added a little extra for Moore since I’m sure he didn’t leave one, and from the way that poor girl nearly broke her ankle being thrown out of his way, I’d say she deserves one.

Moore slams his flat palms against the bar door, flinging it open before racing out into the cool night air. I have a feeling this is going to be a long night as I race after him.

Istay several car lengths behind Moore. Traffic is light, so I can’t risk being made this early in the investigation. I’m known for being stealthy, and I won’t break a perfect record on this guy.

I’m unsure what he’s up to, but his reaction to the news his “friend” wasn’t coming was strong enough to indicate something serious is going on here. I just have no idea what that is yet.

My phone rings through the speakers of the rental. I don’t even have to look down at the caller ID to know who it is. She calls me multiple times a day most days. For a woman who claims to be so damn busy, she sure has time to aggravate the hell out of me.

I let it ring through and go to voicemail.

Within seconds, Jade calls again. I’ve explained that I’ll update her when I have something to give an update on, but that isn’t good enough. Apparently, she wants updates on nothing. Until a few minutes ago, Moore hadn’t done a single thing to indicate he’s up to no good. Even now, I have nothing concrete, so there’s no need to update her.

The phone stops ringing only to start again seconds later.

It isn’t exactly safe to split my attention between the annoyance of Jade blowing up my phone and Moore increasing his speed as he passes cars ahead of him. He could be escalating, or he could have noticed I’m back here. I doubt he’s made me, though. Nothing in his background suggests he can spot a tail.

I click the button on my steering wheel and answer Jade’s call this time. If I don’t, she’ll just keep calling. I know this because I tested the theory earlier this week.

“Jade.” I try not to sound half as annoyed by her as I really am. She’s still a client, and I need to treat her as such. She’s paying for my services, which makes me grin. I sort of like the sound of Jade paying for my ‘services.’

“Colin,” she doesn’t hide her annoyance, “I’ve called you three times—”

“Four. You’ve called me four times in a row,” I interrupt her.

“So, you’re just letting my calls go to voicemail intentionally?” She huffs. Her voice is husky and irritated. I’m unwilling to admit how much I like the sound.

“I told you I’d call when I have an update. There is no update, so I didn’t call.” I stress that last part.

We have no reason to talk every day, much less multiple times a day. What she’s asking for is outside of normal protocol. We usually set a time each week to brief clients on any new developments.

Moore has gotten farther ahead of me, and his driving is becoming more erratic. Now I’m second-guessing myself. It appears he has noticed me following, which I find interesting. That tells me I need to dig a little deeper into his background. He shouldn’t have made me so easily, even with the light traffic.

I turn off and park in front of a boutique. I’ll need to change cars next time I tail him. Fuck.

“Colin, are you listening?” she shrieks this time.

No. No, I wasn’t listening. I was trying to do my damn job.

I can’t sit here. If he doubles back and sees my vehicle, my cover will be blown. I put the car in reverse and back out of the parking spot as I check my surroundings. I see no sign of Moore, so I turn back the way I came from and head toward the bar we just left.

My plans may be shot to hell now, but maybe I can still get some information tonight.

“I said I expect to hear from you daily. If there’s no update, call and say that. I wouldn’t have to call you multiple times a day if you were communicating with me.”

Communicate, pfft.

“Got it.” I won’t argue with her. If she wants me to call daily to say “Moore is squeaky clean,” then that’s what I’ll do.

There’s a pause, and I can picture the impatient look on her face. “Okay, so? What do you have today?” The tone of her voice solidifies that mental image.

“As indicated by my lack of a call… I have nothing to report.”

It’s a half-truth, but there’s no sense in telling her anything about tailing him when it led to nothing—so far. Other than maybe being caught because I was distracted by her constant calling. I should tell her that. Tell her that she’s ruining her own damn investigation because she’s being so fucking uptight.

“Well, find something! I know he isn’t the spotless, choir boy, do-gooder type he makes himself out to be. There’s something up with him, and it’s your job to find it.”

I sigh. This woman grates on my nerves like no other client I’ve worked with. At least in the last few years.

I speak slowly, borderline condescendingly. “I can’t give you something that isn’t there. He follows his schedule nearly to a T.”

“Nearly. What’s he doing that’s not on the schedule?”

She heard the word nearly and latched onto it for dear life. Telling her about the stops at this little dive bar will just send her reeling with a hundred more questions. Questions I don’t have answers for.

“Let me do my job, Jade. I’ll update you when there’s an update. Okay?” I try to soften my tone.

“You’ll update me daily, okay?” It isn’t a question. It’s a command, one that she sarcastically delivered in the same tone I just used.

She challenges me at every turn and frustrates me to no end. Yet, I don’t hate her for it.

I blow out a frustrated breath, knowing it’s better to concede at this point than argue with her.

“Fine,” I say simply.

“Goodnight, Mr. Brooks.” She ends the call without waiting for a response.

“Goodnight, Mr. Brooks,” I mock her out loud to myself in my car.

Ugh. Why does she get under my skin so bad?

My phone rings again, and my jaw automatically tightens. I know that crazy woman isn’t calling me again. To my relief, it’s my mom instead. It’s been a little while since we’ve talked, so I don’t hesitate to answer.

“Hey, Mom,” I say, pushing my aggravation with Jade to the back of my mind.

“Hey, Son, what are you up to? Are you busy?” Her voice instantly makes me smile. She sounds like home. She’s the only home I had after my dad disappeared.

“Eh, just working a case for a crazy client. What have you been up to? I haven’t heard from you. You better be staying out of trouble,” I tease.

My mother is a saint. She’s never been in trouble a day in her life. After my dad left and never came back, she devoted her life to giving me the best life she possibly could. For so many years, it was just the two of us.

“Well, don’t be mad, but I got a job.” She waits silently for me to respond.

“Is it money? I can send more money if you need it, Ma.”

When I got hired at Dunn, it was a significant pay increase from bouncing from solo gig to solo gig. I started sending Mom money every month, so she wouldn’t have to worry about anything. It’s the least I could do. She worked two jobs for years to make sure we never went without.

“No, Colin, geez! I have so much money from everything you’ve sent. I had to start hiding it from myself. It isn’t that. This job just gets me out of the house; that’s all.”

For some reason, it still bothers me. She shouldn’t have to work, even to get out of the house. “You could travel, take some trips to places you’ve never been. That’s why I send it, to give you back a fraction of what you spent after all the years you worked so hard for us.” I can’t understand why she’d rather keep working than go travel and enjoy herself.

“Well, now, I do have a little trip planned with a—a friend.” She stammers her words, which is definitely out of character for her.

“That’s great! Where are you and your friend headed?” I want all the details.

I’m glad she’s going, but the PI in me wants to know who the friend is so I can run a quick background check to make sure she’s safe. I can’t help but roll my eyes at myself. My mother has always shown great judgment, so I know she wouldn’t go with just anyone.

“We booked a cruise to the Bahamas. It’s just four days, but Tom seems to think that’s a good start.” I hear the smile in her voice, but who the hell is Tom?

I clear my throat. “Tom?” I ask the single word question.

“Yes, dear, Tom is a friend of mine. I hope that doesn’t upset you…” her voice trails off.

“How long have you known Tom?” I have so many questions, so I’m back to private investigator mode.

“We met about… eight months ago?” she answers, but it sounds more like a question with the pause in the middle and inflection at the end.

I wish I had more time to ask about all the details, but I’ll be back at the bar in the next few minutes.

“When do you and Tom leave?” Maybe I’ll have time to go meet the guy before he boards a cruise ship with my mom.

“Two days. Now, Colin, don’t be upset. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was concerned with how you might react.”

I take a breath. “Mom, you spent all my early and young adult years making me happy and making sure I never went without anything I needed and most of what I wanted. I want you to be happy—with Tom or whoever. I’m sorry if I’ve said anything to make you think otherwise. Go, have fun! I want to hear all about it when you’re back.” I pause before casually adding, “And you might mention to Tom that I carry a sidearm, and you’re my favorite person in the world, so he doesn’t want to do anything to upset either of us.” I keep my voice peppy both for humor and to make sure I don’t come off as deadly serious as I am. She knows I mean it, but that doesn’t mean I have to sound like a dick.

Her laughter makes me feel better. I hope I’ve never said or done anything to make her think I wouldn’t completely support her moving on and finding someone to share her life with.

“I’ll be sure to tell him, and thank you for being supportive. It took me many, many years to feel ready for this step, and I finally am.”

“I’ve always got your back, Momma. I love you.”

“I love you too, Son. We’ll talk soon, okay?”

“You bet.”

“Bye, Son.” She ends the call just as I’m turning into the dive bar parking lot.