In Too Deep

full investigator here at the firm now.”
    “Right. So when are you going to marry her and make her a partner?”
    Fallon felt something snap inside him.
“It’s not that easy, damn it.”
    “Hey, hey, calm down, cousin. Didn’t mean to shock you. I just assumed—”
    “When it comes to Isabella, don’t ever assume anything.” Fallon surged to his feet, phone clenched in his hand. “You think it’s easy to marry her?”
    “Well, Aunt Maryann approves of her. She told your folks that it was a perfect match. Naturally your parents told mine.”
    “And now everyone in the family thinks I’m going to marry Isabella?”
    “It would seem to be the logical next step,” Zack said, speaking carefully now.
    “This hasn’t got a damn thing to do with logic.”
    “With you, everything comes down to logic. Am I missing something in this equation?”
    “People in Isabella’s family don’t get married,” Fallon said through his teeth.
    “Some kind of religious thing?”
    “Some kind of conspiracy theory thing. Marriages mean licenses. Isabella was raised not to leave a paper trail. She doesn’t even have a birth certificate.”
    “So we’re just talking about a piece of paper?”
    Fallon exhaled slowly, forcing himself to regain control. “I’m overreacting here, aren’t I?”
    “You do sound uncharacteristically emotional,” Zack agreed. “But you’re a Jones and you’re in love. We get emotional about this kind of stuff in our family.”
    “It’s not just the license,” Fallon admitted after a while. “I don’t want her to stay with me out of gratitude or pity.”
    “Gratitude? Pity? Trust me, Fallon, a lot of people feel a lot of things when it comes to you, but gratitude and pity are rarely on the list. Why would Isabella feel either?”
    “Can’t talk about it right now. Got work to do.”
    “Wait, don’t hang up.”
    “Serves you right after all the times you hung up on me when you were working as a contract agent for J&J.”
    Fallon cut the connection and went to the window. From that angle he could see most of the counter inside the Sunshine. Isabella was no longer inside the café. She must have finished her morning break and must have now been on her way around the corner to the grocery store. She would spend a few minutes chatting with Harriet Stokes while she collected the mail.
    She’s okay.
    But his Jones intuition was riding him hard now, lifting the hair on the nape of his neck. He needed to find Isabella. There was no logical reason to take the gun, but he pulled out the lowest drawer of the desk and picked up the weapon and the holster.
    He buckled the gun in place, took his leather jacket off the wall hook and went to the door. He would just amble down the street to the grocery store and intercept Isabella when she emerged with the mail. They could have another cup of coffee and tea together at the Sunshine.
    The computer pinged. Something important had just come in. He went back across the room to see the new data that had arrived.
    I’m like one of Pavlov’s dogs
, he thought morosely.
I respond to that damn ping the way the animals did to a bell. I start salivating. My reward is another dot of light on the paranormal grid instead of some kibble, but that’s the only difference. I’m a creature of habit and a lousy conversationalist. Even the bad guys get bored listening to me. What was it Garrett said? Not a lecture on para-physics. Just shoot me now.
    Why would Isabella want to marry him even if she didn’t have a phobia about licenses and paper trails? Great. Now he was feeling sorry for himself.
    The encrypted message was from Max Lucan.
    bq.
bq.
bq. The buyer who commissioned the delivery of the mirror showed up at the motel where Garrett was staying. Sander Clay. The name should ring a few bells. He’s the CEO of Clay Tech Industries. Turns out the Feds have been watching him for months because they think he’s involved in illegal arms dealing (the normal kind). My people grabbed him when he tried to terminate Garrett. Got it all on video complete with sound. Turned everything over to the FBI . Garrett is talking as fast as he can. He even admitted to killing Caitlin Phillips.

    bq.
bq.
bq. My work here is done. Any luck on your end?

    Fallon straightened. He did not have time to respond to the query. The need to find Isabella was escalating.
    He was heading back to the door when another ping sounded. He wanted to ignore it, but his intuition told