After a busy few days catching up on paperwork, August found herself parked outside of the Prince Royal building waiting for John Bryson to finish work. His wife’s intake file stated that he worked from nine until five each day. His parking records showed otherwise, as did his banking details, showing he was generally across town several days a week mid-afternoon. It was what he was up to during those hours that August was there to determine.

“We must stop meeting like this,” Reese’s voice startled her as she sat watching the doors, waiting for her target to emerge. “So are you going to tell me who you are investigating?”

August drew her lips together, and she shook her head from side-to-side. “That would be classified information constable.”

“What if it were a matter for the law? I mean, technically I could haul you in on several offenses already.”

“Oh yeah, and what would they be, exactly?” she asked, a smug smile tugging at the edges of her lips.

Reese fished into his pocket, before producing a notepad and pen. “Well, let’s see, illegal parking, trespassing…”

August scoffed, she was hardly trespassing. The Prince Royal faced an open park area. Her worst offense was to park in a non-designated area.

“Refusing to inform a law officer as to the reasons for your business,” he continued. She watched on curiously as he wrote on his pad, his eyes skirting from her to the notepad. “Now, I should be giving you a move on notice as this is not the first time. I will let you off with a warning, though.” He ripped the paper from the pad and nodded toward his partner who stood nearby before handing her the note. “Now I’d like you to pay attention. This time.”

Watching him walk back to his car, she took in the way he walked. He had a perfectly rounded butt. The man seemed to have it all. She was surprised he was single. Looking down at the note in her hand she read,

I’d really like to go out with you again sometime. Call me.

Chuckling, she tossed the note into the console. He was persistent, she would give him that, but she had zero interest in calling him.

Glancing at the clock, she sighed. Her stomach was starting to grumble. She should have picked up some lunch before she started her observations. It was nearing two o’clock. If Bryson were going to make his move, it would have to be soon.

She watched on as several suited men walked in and out of the building, then bingo! There he was. She quickly checked the photo she had saved on her phone. John Bryson was a balding man, in his late fifties. Suited up, he looked much like the many other working drones, but it was definitely him.

Keeping her distance, she watched as he made his way to his silver sedan and peeled out into the traffic. Firing up her own engine, she followed along behind him. Several cars cut between them and she almost lost him as he turned onto the freeway on-ramp. Once on the freeway, he was easy to follow. Keeping pace with the general flow of traffic, her own, ordinary looking vehicle didn’t stand out as anything out of the usual. To the untrained eye they each looked like any other commuters going about their day.

Across town, she followed as he left the freeway, took the first exit into a local suburb, and headed for the shopping precinct. When he pulled into the parking lot of a florist, she parked nearby and watched on, snapping several photos on her phone. He returned moments later with a bouquet of flowers. This was hardly a surprise as Dotty Floral had shown up in several transactions on his credit card account.

It also came as no surprise when he pulled into the drive of an average looking home in the next suburb and was greeted at the door by a middle-aged woman dressed only in a silk robe. She managed to snap several photos of the unsuspecting lovers as they greeted each other passionately on the steps. August then settled in to await his return.

On cue, he arrived back at the front door of the house at ten minutes to five. August guessed this allowed him the ten minutes to drive back into the city and over to the other side of town, back to his wife and children who were meant to believe he had just finished work for the day. Only, the wife clearly knew something was amiss, or August wouldn’t be here now.

Again, August caught more damning evidence as her target shamelessly laughed and kissed his mistress goodbye, his hands sliding over her butt just for good measure. As he made his way back to his car, he noticed August photographing him and charged toward her. She had been sure he wouldn’t notice her, but now he had. She hastily started her car and made her way down the street, checking her rear-view mirror to see an irate Bryson waving his fists in the air.

She had her evidence. What his family chose to do with the information was up to them. She would wrap up her case and hand the information over to her boss. It was Mercy’s duty to break the news to his wife. A role August certainly didn’t envy.