She spun around, the knife stopping a hair from Zack's throat. He didn't flinch. He knew the risks of sneaking up on his wife, but she'd never once actually hurt him except for the time she'd landed on his toe, but that was an accident. She went to yell at him, but as usual that incredible smile he had just melted everything else away. She dropped the knife and gave him a kiss that left them both breathless. It was amazing that after almost twenty years, they'd never lost the passion between them.
"I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow," she said when they finally parted.
"I got done earlier than expected," he replied with a little shrug. "Didn't see the sense in staying in Mexico, so I came home."
After Manticore had dissolved, and the fivers didn't need to be protected like before, Zack had found himself rather bored. For the first time, he didn't have a constant mission to keep him moving. Bodyguard work didn't appeal to him. It was too…open. So, he'd done a little private investigating for a small firm. Small, hell, it was just one guy trying to scratch out a living. Then Zack started working for him. It didn't matter what the odds were Zack always got the information.
The big break came during the very nasty divorce of a big businessman and his wife. The pre-nuptial agreement said if he got caught cheating, she would get half, and not the piddling amount otherwise. Zack's boss, Carl Pilchard, had a cousin working as an aide for the wife. He clued in Carl who asked Zack to get something. Later Carl didn't want to know how Zack got the footage in the guy's hotel room. The businessman's room was twenty stories up, and there was no way to get in from below. The guy's security people swept the room for hidden cameras and bugs, so those were useless. The way Carl saw the tape; it looked like it had to have been filmed from the window. Impossible, yes, but Carl was the type who didn't ask questions if the goods were good.
The wife won millions. She made recommendations. She had been told that there was no way to prove her case because there was no detective that could get through the security net her husband had. Now people who wanted someone caught or found asked her how it had been done. So, she gave the name Carl Pilchard. Carl could see where this was going. Zack was freelance. He worked when he wanted to. He had told Carl he was taking a few weeks off to take his family somewhere. That meant leave me alone no matter what until I show up again.
So, when a new client came in, and begged for help, he had to say no. He was swamped as it was. She offered double his normal fee. He refused. She offered triple. He hesitated. She quadrupled, and he called Zack. The end result was that he and Zack became partners, 50-50. In exchange, Zack could never be mentioned. He was referred to as the "special investigator" whenever a new client asked. As the firm added more PI's to the staff, if you wanted the "special investigator" you really shelled out the extra cash. He was almost fashionable in some ways. Nobody ever saw him, or knew who he was, but he always got results, no matter what the case.
This time he'd been looking for a lost child. There'd been a nasty divorce, a custody battle, and then the loser took off with the kid anyways. She'd taken her daughter to Mexico to be with her family there. Zack had to basically kidnap the little girl to bring her home. He was glad to have done so. Her mother was a serious drug addict, and they'd been living in a filthy studio apartment in Mexico City. He'd given the little girl to Carl who had the father waiting in the other room, and then headed for home, stopping long enough to get some roses for Alicia.
"Be warned," Alicia said. "The answer is maybe until we talk later."
He didn't have to ask. A second later he heard his eldest daughter from the stairs. "Daddy!" she yelled, and ran down them to give him a hug.
He caught her easily, remembering how he used to toss her in the air, her hair flying out, and she would giggle wildly. She was growing up so fast. He could see boys' taking second looks at her whenever they walked down the street. At least he didn't have to worry about one hurting her. She might have had an almost normal life, but she still had the abilities and the training to defend herself. He'd seen to that.
"Guess I was missed," he said to her with a grin. "What's up with you?" He ignored Alicia's little flash of annoyance.
"Becky's party was great and Janna got grounded 'cause she snuck out and Aunt Max said there's no way she could sneak out without being caught 'cause Max originated that kind of stuff, and then the really big news…"she glanced at her mother, who was eyeing her sharply. "The class skiing trip is coming up, but Mom said you two have to discuss it first before I can go like I really want to," she said quickly. She gave her father her sweetest, most beguiling smile.
"Why don't you go get the twins, and tell them dinner is ready," Alicia suggested. Did all daughters know how to wrap their fathers? In a perverse way she had done that to Lydecker. Of course instead of sweet smiles, she would blow something up with pinpoint accuracy, and he would think she was the greatest for it, but the theory was all the same.
"Skiing trip?" Zack said low went Heather scampered out of the kitchen.
"In Colorado," Alicia said flatly. Zack understood immediately why she wouldn't want her daughter anywhere near Colorado.
"Does she know?" he asked.
"No," Alicia said shaking her head. "She's so curious about Manticore life, she might actually want to see him."
"She's curious about us, why we're like we are, not Manticore," Zack said.
"The ends are the same." And that he couldn't refute.
But then the twins were running down the stairs, and the conversation had to be put on hold until after dinner.
