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Irina sipped her coffee and found the description accurate.  She blew on it to cool it for a second bracing sip, then set it aside.<br><br>  
 
Irina sipped her coffee and found the description accurate.  She blew on it to cool it for a second bracing sip, then set it aside.<br><br>  
  
"I've spent the week going through their files and found no evidence that they’re working the murder string as you'd asked." True: they'd only just picked up the case, as it were, and to date nothing of their work had been recorded. ''And it never will be. At least, not officially''. "So that removes ''that'' from the table. Their fees are kind to those in need, no evidence of gouging. As PIs they can choose which cases they take up, unlike public servants." Also true: the police and the Sheriff's department had to serve the needs of the public as a whole, whereas private investigators were hired to represent the needs of the private individual.  Irina handed the accordion folder over, glad to have it leave her hands. "I've copied a few of their old cases to give you an idea of their forte. It's pretty plain vanilla. Records searches. Missing items. Deadbeats." Half-truth, if one discounted the supernatural angle of the same. "No divorce or infidelity cases yet, but give it time. They've only just set up shop, a failing marriage is a touchy subject, and I understand Yankees take some warming up to. And this Yankee owes you an apology."<br><br>
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"I've spent the week going through their files and found no evidence that they’re working the murder string as you'd asked." True: they'd only just picked up the case, as it were, and to date nothing of their work had been recorded. ''And it never will be. At least, not officially''. "So that removes that from the table. Their fees are kind to those in need, no evidence of gouging. As PIs they can choose which cases they take up, unlike public servants." Also true: the police and the Sheriff's department had to serve the needs of the public as a whole, whereas private investigators were hired to represent the needs of the private individual.  Irina handed the accordion folder over, glad to have it leave her hands. "I've copied a few of their old cases to give you an idea of their forte. It's pretty plain vanilla. Records searches. Missing items. Deadbeats." Half-truth, if one discounted the supernatural angle of the same. "No divorce or infidelity cases yet, but give it time. They've only just set up shop, a failing marriage is a touchy subject, and I understand Yankees take some warming up to. And this Yankee owes you an apology."<br><br>
  
 
Irina leaned back in her chair and it took no effort to look embarrassed. <br><br>
 
Irina leaned back in her chair and it took no effort to look embarrassed. <br><br>
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Irina swept the list and committed it to memory, then widened her eyes and puffed her cheeks like a person confronted with a tricky but academic problem. Which this most certainly wasn't. She shook her head and answered truthfully.<br><br>
 
Irina swept the list and committed it to memory, then widened her eyes and puffed her cheeks like a person confronted with a tricky but academic problem. Which this most certainly wasn't. She shook her head and answered truthfully.<br><br>
  
"Not legally, no, sir." She paused as if wrestling with something distasteful, which was true. "Sir, I know Ms. Beauchamps is influential but—crap, there's no way I can put this delicately so I'll just say it: how do you know her nieces were telling the truth? How do you know if Ms. Beauchamps checked their stories first before telling you? They're ''kids''. Rich. Maybe spoiled. They were doing something stupid and wrong and they got scared they'd get caught. So they looked around and decided some damn Yankees would be the perfect patsies to take the fall for what they were doing.  Again, I don't want to put you in hot water over this." ''Mister, you have '''no idea''' how much''. "But I would like to check the Agency's financials to see if the kids' claims hold up. If they hired the Agency to do this, then there'd be a record of it somewhere. Money in the bank. Something traceable. Unlike the charity cases on file, these kids would have the wherewithal to pay for their services and the Agency would have no qualms about charging them for it.  ''If'' they took the job. The Agency is an investigatory agency, sir, not a private security firm. They're detectives, not bodyguards.  Seems to me that the kids pointing their fingers missed that telling detail in their story. And if I were still a cop, I'd call them on it." <br><br>
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"Not legally, no, sir." She paused as if wrestling with something distasteful, which was true. "Sir, I know Ms. Beauchamps is influential but—crap, there's no way I can put this delicately so I'll just say it: how do you know her nieces were telling the truth? How do you know if Ms. Beauchamps checked their stories first before telling you? They're ''kids''. Rich. Maybe spoiled. They were doing something stupid and wrong and they got scared they'd get caught. So they looked around and decided some damn Yankees would be the perfect patsies to take the fall for what they were doing.  Again, I don't want to put you in hot water over this." ''Mister, you have '''no idea''' how much''. "But I would like to check the Agency's financials to see if the kids' claims hold up. If they hired the Agency to do this, then there'd be a record of it somewhere. Money in the bank. Something traceable. Unlike the charity cases on file, these kids would have the wherewithal to pay for their services and the Agency would have no qualms about charging them for it.  If they took the job. The Agency is an investigatory agency, sir, not a private security firm. They're detectives, not bodyguards.  Seems to me that the kids pointing their fingers missed that telling detail in their story. And if I were still a cop, I'd call them on it." <br><br>
  
 
Irina took a sip of her cooling coffee, its bitterness no match for the bile hovering at the back of her throat. ''God, I hate this cloak-and-dagger shit. It's why I never tried out for Undercover''. <br><br>
 
Irina took a sip of her cooling coffee, its bitterness no match for the bile hovering at the back of her throat. ''God, I hate this cloak-and-dagger shit. It's why I never tried out for Undercover''. <br><br>

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