top-tier divorce attorney whoâs fooling around with a coworker who happens to be another top-tier divorce attorney. Wouldnât you want to be prepared?â
âYour husband and his girlfriend are both divorce lawyers?â
âTwo of the biggest sharks in the city. Over many a dinner, heâs told me tales about hiding assets for his male clients. Thatâs why I need a good private investigator.â
âWhat you need is a good lawyer,â I suggested.
Sue shook her highlighted locks. âThe second I go to a lawyer, Timothy will find out, believe me. Even going to one of the big private investigators could be a stupid move. Timothy uses private investigators all the time. And the second Timothy knows that I suspect him, itâll be over. Heâll see that I get next to nothing. A divorce lawyerâs divorce? Please. It will be like a living billboard for him. A matter of pride.â
Speaking of pride, mine was now hurt. âSo thatâs why youâre hanging out in strip malls. Youâre trolling for some insignificant, off-the-radar PI. Is that it?â
âSorry.â Her checks flushed. âNot insignificant. But you have no connection to Timothy. The only chance I have is to be ready when he comes after me. Are you sure you canât help me?â
âI told you. Adrian wonât touch it.â
âWhat about you? Youâre a private investigator. Mr. Monk doesnât have to be involved. Youâre the head of the company. He canât tell you not to take a case.â
âItâs not that straightforward, Sue. Weâre partners.â
We went back and forth like this. She was a nice woman in need. She had no career of her own and no other source of income, which made her feel even more vulnerable. But at least there were no children to complicate matters. SueOâBrien had done nothing worse than to be married to a cheating divorce lawyer. It was hard to keep saying no to her.
âAdrianâs going to be here any minute,â I finally pleaded, checking my watch. âHeâs never late, and . . .â
âAnd you donât want him asking questions and getting all excited about a divorce case. I get it. I just hope you can change your mind. It would mean so much.â
Sue OâBrien gave me her card and I gave her mine. Even though there was no reason to, it seemed polite.
I had just returned from washing the coffee cups in the bathroom, eradicating as much evidence of her visit as I could, when I looked out the front window and saw him approaching in that smooth but awkward stride he had when avoiding the perilous cracks in the sidewalk.
âDid you change perfumes?â he asked. Those were the very first words out of his mouth.
âYes,â I lied. âAnd I just had a cup of coffee and washed out the cup, in case youâre wondering.â
Monk seemed to accept this at face value. He wiped his private peg on the wall and hung up his jacket. âLieutenant Thurman is only paying us for two hours,â I informed him.
âBut I solved the case.â He was still centering his jacket on the peg.
âBut it only took an hour. How many times do I have to tell you to take your time?â
Monk looked aghast at the thought. âTaking extra time would be cheating.â
âCheating? How is it cheating?â
âBecause the bad guys would think theyâre smarter thanthey are. It sends a wrong messageâlike throwing softballs so that your kid can hit a few and not feel so bad.â
âFirst of all, thatâs not cheatingâthatâs good parenting. And second, itâs not the same thing at all.â
âPlus itâs dereliction of duty. If Iâd taken an extra day, I wouldnât be doing my best work. And who knows what kind of new mischief Jimmy might have done in the meantime?â
âReally? You think he might have killed another