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day.
    I leaned on his car. “You know, I bet one of the neighbors in the area would know who you are. Maybe I should just go door to door and ask.” I widened my eyes. “You think one of them would recognize you?”
    He leaned his head back on the seat and let out a sigh. “You really are an annoying cuss, aren’t you?”
    I beamed. “I haven’t been called a cuss since my days on the Ponderosa, Hoss.”
    “ Bonanza references? Really?”
    The sound of a diesel engine drowned out my next Bonanza impression, and I watched the UPS truck pull up in front of the house two doors down. A man in brown shorts hopped down and started rooting around in the back of his truck.
    I looked down at Jordan, surprised to see his face look pinched. “Get in,” he said, knuckling the door unlock button.
    “Why?” I asked, my brow furrowing.
    “I don’t want to be seen, that’s why,” he said through gritted teeth. “Will you get in the car?”
    “You’re a stranger,” I said disdainfully, doing my best Kevin McCallister impression because well, that Home Alone movie still rocked.
    Really, I had few qualms about getting into the car with him, but my radar had always been a little off. He seemed respectable enough, and he’d certainly had plenty of time to grab me and demand what pitiful little money I had on me. He also knew Trevor (not a ringing endorsement, but whatever), and Drew was literally eight feet away. And I liked a little danger with my Cheetos.
    “Can I see your ID?” I asked, and I wasn’t kidding.
    “Are you serious?”
    “Do you want to be seen?”
    He huffed and stretched up, reaching in his back pocket. Within moments, I was palming his ID, noting that even he could look like a stoned late-night gas station clerk in a DMV photo.
    “All right, you’ve seen it. Now get in!”
    I took pity on him and opened the door. As I slid in, I knew Drew was probably having kittens watching this go down.
    “Thank you.” Jordan sighed and looked over at me tapping on my iPhone. “What are you doing?”
    “Googling you, stranger,” I said, pulling up his law firm’s website. And there he was, smiling under an associate photo under the “who we are” tab.
    “Why don’t you just ask me what you want to know?” He sounded annoyed.
    “This is more fun,” I said, scrolling down. “So you’re a Pisces.”
    “It doesn’t say that,” he said, hitting the door lock.
    Ah, vintage kidnapper’s move. I might get to use my judo after all. Actually, it was more like high-cardio Tae Bo, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.
    “It also says you prefer boxers over briefs.”
    He looked at me for a moment before sighing. “I don’t know you, but suffice to say that sarcasm is your deal?”
    I smiled a little. “You’d be right, Channing.” I hit the sleep button on my phone and turned slightly in the buttery leather seat. “So. What’s going on with either the peach house or the UPS man?”
    “It’s a long story,” he said after a pause.
    “Fortunately for you, I have plenty of time.”
    “Are you always this nosy?”
    “When I’m on my job?” I pretended to think. “Yes.”
    “And what is work for you, exactly?”
    “Private investigator,” I said.
    His eyebrows went high. “Should I be nervous?”
    “Do you have something to hide?” I bantered back and then paused, confused. What was I doing exactly? I cleared my throat. “Don’t worry. Your secrets are safe unless you hire me.”
    “Are you any good?”
    I narrowed my eyes. “Good enough.”
    “Better than your people skills, I hope.”
    “Cute. That’s a thirty percent markup for you.”
    Suddenly he was very interested in the mahogany and leather steering wheel. “Maybe I do have a job for you.”
    “What kind of job?” I asked curiously.
    “Do you follow people? Looking for certain information?”
    “I’m surprised the firm doesn’t have someone on retainer.”
    “This wouldn’t be for work,” he said, tracing the silver