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pepper or using them as a kicking bag.”
    “Birthday gifts from Uncle Ray. Got her the spray and a year at the gym with kickboxing lessons.”
    “Tell him I said thanks a lot.”
    “I’ll do that. We’re having dinner tonight.”
    “I’ll be gone by then. Shucks.”
    “He’ll be disappointed he missed you, too.”
    Rachel returned with our sandwiches. She had placed two on each plate and after putting them down on the coffee table, she went back into the kitchen and came back with her own breakfast: a big plastic container of cut-up fruit.
    “You still on that diet, Rache?” I asked.
    “It’s not a diet, Ray. It’s a lifestyle change.”
    “Oh.” I took a bite of my egg and kielbasa sandwich. If I was wrong and there was a Heaven, this was what they served for breakfast. “I thought it was a diet.”
    “Diets don’t last, Ray. I’m the expert on that. I’m just eating a lot more fruits and veggies and cutting way back on the dairy and meat. You might wanna give it a go sometime.” She speared something that looked like a chunk of pineapple and put it in her mouth. As she chewed, she said, “So what’s with the picture of the girl?”
    “It looks like it might be the—”
    “It involves a case I’m working on,” Jack interrupted. “Can’t say more than that at the moment.”
    “Because I might spill the beans?” Rachel said, pointing a pair of blueberries that were stuck on the end of her fork at Jack. “Ruin the whole case?”
    “Because,” Jack said, “every client deserves confidentiality. That’s why we’re called private investigators.”
    Rachel ate the blueberries and smiled. “That’s a good answer, Jack.”
    “Glad you approve, little sister.”
    We ate in silence for another minute or so. The food was doing wonders for my body and my head. After I finished my first sandwich, I looked at Jack, who was already halfway through his second.
    “I remember Ricky saying something about making a mistake,” I said. “You know anything about that, Jack?”
    “Do you?”
    “No, Jack, I don’t. That’s why I’m asking you.” I felt some anger rising up, making my head hurt more, so I took a bite of pickle. Whatever else had gone down between Jack and me, we had both lost a friend a few hours ago. I didn’t have the strength for another argument. “Stop with the paranoid shit. Up until last night, I hadn’t seen Ricky since he got back. He called me . Said he had to talk. Why we had to talk over on the Southside and whatever it has to do with the picture on his phone, I don’t have a clue. All I remember is his saying last night that he’d made a mistake. I guess he figured I could help him with whatever it was.”
    “That’s you.” Jack wiped his lips with a napkin. “Officer Friendly.”
    “I was looking out for a friend.”
    “You wanna go there, Ray?” He leaned forward to put the other half of his sandwich down. “You wanna have a conversation about looking out for friends in front of your little sister here? I think she’ll be real interested in hearing how far some people are willing to go to help out a friend. Or a friend of a friend?”
    Jack was starting to sound like some of the kids I worked with. They’d get themselves into an argument of their own creation, start feeling the wall creeping up behind them, and then change the subject. I had to remind Jack—and myself—that we were on the same side here.
    “Let’s stay focused here, okay, Jack? Do you think Ricky’s murder could have anything to do with the work he was doing for you?”
    He took a breath, trying to get back on track. “The insurance inspections or the missing rich girl?”
    “Either one.”
    “He never said anything to me that made me think he was in any kinda trouble. Of course, people don’t open up to me like they do to you, Ray.”
    “We have different … skill sets, Jack.” Man, I could be diplomatic when I wanted. “When were you two supposed to hook up