“I need you in the meeting, Aug,” Mercy called from her doorway.

Rolling her eyes, August ignored her. She had two more pages of bank transactions left to trawl through. Her pen at the ready in her left hand.

“August,” Mercy called again, louder.

“You don’t need me,” she sighed, noticing another odd transaction and notating it.

“I do need you. Everyone is waiting, damn it,” Mercy moved in closer, splaying the tips of her fingers on August’s desk. “You need to come to the meeting. The other girls are getting shitty.”

“Not my problem,” she shrugged. “I’ve got work to do.”

“We’ve all got work to do, August,” Mercy snapped.

The tone in her voice alerted August to the fact she was serious, and she looked up from her spreadsheet to find Mercy’s cheeks shining a shade of red that almost matched her hair. It was rare to see her mild-mannered boss get upset.

“I don’t usually come to the meetings,” she deadpanned. She hated those things. It was seriously tedious, and she had more pressing work to do than sit through listening to the other women bitching about what they did and didn’t want to do.

“And that right there is part of the problem, Aug. The girls are getting pissed off. They do the right thing. It’s not fair to them. They feel you get preferential treatment.”

“Do I?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. If she got all the good jobs, she’d hate to see what the other girls were doing.

“You know I try to divvy out the assignments to whomever I think would be best for the role. You each have your specific strengths.”

“So why should I go to the meeting then?” she raised and dropped her shoulders in a shrug. Mercy turned around and threw her head back. August could hear her breath becoming laboured.

“Fine!” August relented, scooping the papers into a pile and weighing them down with a stapler. “I hope you don’t expect me to go to every one, though,” she huffed as she followed the woman out of the room.

“Oh, August, how good of you to join us.” Victoria offered her an insincere smile as she took a seat as far from the other women as she could.

“Rule number one, no bitching,” Mercy reminded the women.

It was no secret that August didn’t mix well with the other women. She liked Mercy. Mercy understood her, the rest of them acted like a bunch of high-school bitches, as far as August was concerned. She was there to do her job, and she did it well. There was no reason to socialise and gossip about what they were doing on the weekends or what men they were chasing.

“Okay ladies, here’s the deal; we have a higher than average number of cases come through this week,” Mercy advised. “I need you all to pull together to try to get some of the older ones wrapped up.”

“We’d work a lot quicker if we didn’t have to attend these stupid meetings,” August huffed as she reached for a pen in the middle of the conference table. She should have grabbed her notebook. The back page of one of Mercy’ handouts would have to suffice to take down notes.

“August,” Mercy snapped, her glare burning holes in August’s skin. “As I was saying,” she addressed the other women. “We have an unusually high number of cases. If anyone can spare me a couple of extra hours on the weekend that would be great.”

“We are already working our butts off, Mercy,” Sabrina whined.

August couldn’t stand the woman’s high-pitched voice. She sounded like she’d sucked the helium from a balloon every time she opened her mouth. August was sure she would be better suited to being a clown for children’s parties, than working as an investigator. How could anyone take the woman seriously?

“So we have seven new cases.” Mercy held up a handful of buff manila folders. “Some should be easy, but we all know it’s often the ones we expect to be easy that aren’t.”

Muffled laughter circled the room. “Now, Sabrina, I believe you had something you needed to bring to the table?”

“Yes,” she turned her gaze toward August. “One of my cases has crossed paths with one of yours.”

This piqued August’s interest, and she sat up straighter in her chair.

“The Hudson case,” the woman went on. “I have been investigating the wife, and it seems her partner is someone you have been investigating. This came to my attention quite by accident because I saw his file open on your desk and recognised his photo.”

“Hudson doesn’t sound familiar,” August shook her head.

“No, but I bet Lovell does,” Sabrina added.

“Terry Lovell?”

“Yes, the same Terry Lovell who my client’s wife has seen each Thursday evening when she tells her husband she is at book club.”

“Ah, okay. Yes. That makes sense. His wife has been told he is attending cards night. Small world, isn’t it?”

“Okay, so we need to get together over that case and put our Intel together,” Sabrina nodded.

Mercy clapped her hands together. “Nice work ladies. Now I have a case of a husband who is concerned about his wife spending too much time at church. Specifically, with the new minister. Do we have anyone willing to take that on?”

“You can count me out. If I walk into a church the ceiling is likely to cave in on my head,” August laughed. The last time she’d been to church was for a funeral. She had not grown up with a lot of religion in her life. It wasn’t that she was against it, she just didn’t really understand it. To her, it seemed people went to church once a week and that made them feel like they were good people who could do as they wished at any other time. Perhaps her view of the world was a little too cynical.

“I’ll take the church case,” Chrissy called, putting her hand out to accept the file.

“Good, thank you.” Mercy handed it over and spread the remaining files out on the table. “Now, I think this one would be good for you,” she said pushing one toward August.

August took it and began flipping through the pages, while Mercy dealt the others out to the four other women present.

Page after page of handwritten information greeted her, and she knew she would be there a while trawling through what Mercy had given her. With so much Intel already she knew the case would go one of two ways. Either the client was wrong. They had gathered all this information and found nothing. They were jealous and paranoid, or they had a good reason for feeling that way and digging up hard evidence was crucial to the case.

Many clients presented with nothing but a hunch about their partner cheating, while others, as this one did, produced mountains of possible leads. She knew Mercy had given her this case, as she enjoyed the challenge.

Field work was her favourite part of her job. Many investigators hated it. It could be long and tedious, waiting in watch sometimes for hours and nothing would happen. But the thrill of collecting the cold, hard, undeniable evidence was a buzz like no other. This was the work she had been born for. As far as August was concerned, this was proper investigative work.

* * *

“Thanks for not being a bitch today.”

August peered up from her computer to see Mercy perched against the door frame.

“What are you saying? I’m a bitch every other day?” August rolled her eyes toward her hairline, before returning her gaze back to her computer screen.

“You know you can be,” Mercy nodded thoughtfully.

“It’s not my fault that you employ idiots.”

“Victoria is not an idiot. Neither is Chrissy.”

August smirked, noticing she hadn’t mentioned Sabrina at all and that receptionist. She couldn’t stand Davina with her cheeriness all the time.

“I know you find it difficult to get along with people. I appreciate you trying.”

“I get along alright with you,” she laughed. She and Mercy were entirely different people, yet somehow they gelled together. It was one of life’s many mysteries.

“Speaking of getting along,” Mercy wiggled an eyebrow, and August knew exactly what was coming next. “How was your date on Friday night?”

“I got the Intel. I’m uploading the photos and audio now.”

“That good,” Mercy waved a hand in dismissal. “What I really want to know is Reese a hottie or what?”

Swinging her chair to face her boss, she made eye contact. Mercy’s eyes sparkled with excited enthusiasm, clearly waiting for the all the gory details.

“He’s alright, I guess,” she shrugged.

“Oh c’mon August, he’s a bit better than alright.”

“Well, if you like him so much, why don’t you date him? Huh?”

“August,” Mercy whined her name, and she closed her eyes. She hated hearing her name drawn out. It reminded her of being told off as a child.

“I got your pics. I’ve printed them out on Davina’s printer. Mine’s on the damn blink. Again.” She turned and hit the printer on its side with a closed fist.

“Thanks,” Mercy said as she made her way into Mercy’s office and sat down across from her.

“Is there something else you want?” August snapped, seeing her boss making herself comfortable.

“Hey, temper, temper,” Mercy admonished.

Again, she rolled her eyes. She knew she shouldn’t be so short with Mercy of all people. She was behind with her work, she should have come into the office on Saturday, but after her late Friday night, she had decided to treat herself to a sleep-in instead. She was regretting that now.

“Are you seeing him again?” Mercy went on.

“Not if I can help it,” August responded, her thoughts rushing back to their parting. “Look, I did what you asked me for. I got you the evidence. I thought that was what you wanted. If you had wanted to set me up with Constable Fucker, you could have at least had the decency to let me know so I could have politely declined the invitation.”

“I thought you two would get along,” she pouted. “He’s had a pretty hard time of things, y’know. I wouldn’t want to see him end up with some stupid bimbo.”

“Well, thank you, I guess. At least you don’t think I’m a bimbo, but my point is I am not looking for a boyfriend, and I am not looking to be someone’s counsellor. Now, if you would kindly not set me up on any more blind dates, I would really appreciate it.”

“Sorry,” Mercy muttered. Although August was pretty sure she wasn’t sorry at all. She was also fairly confident it wouldn’t be the last time either. When Mercy Belle got an idea in her head, it was almost impossible to change it.