During the days that passed, Morgan spent a lot of time at home. It gave him an opportunity to perform a wide variety of household tasks, including staying on top of the laundry and finally fixing that leak in the garage roof. He’d never been much of a handyman and barely felt equipped to deal with the latter, but a trip to the hardware store and a few hours on the internet gave him everything he needed to succeed. By the time he was done, it looked like a good enough fix. They’d have to wait for their next downpour to find out for sure.
There were other things to be done, and while he was out of work and Rachel was keeping busy with her latest charity campaign, it only felt right to tend to them. There was something about feeling useful that appealed to him, which made it worse that he was unable to help his extended family find peace by avenging Dusty. It wasn’t as if he had no faith in Gary putting the culprit behind bars, but just like a flipped version of the DC Carver case, Morgan wanted a hand in how this came to an end. It was all the closure he’d need.
There were other issues too—money among them. Rachel’s work brought in little money, and Morgan had been struggling for work as a private investigator for some time now. The clients used to roll through the doors, but now? Not so much. Since he’d closed the lease on the office due to affordability issues, the clientele had ceased completely.
The problem only got worse from there.
It’d been one thing after the other, with Rachel’s charity taking off in ways they could never have imagined. Morgan was so incredibly proud and would do anything to support her, but he often feared she didn’t understand the strain put on him. Although she’d frequently stressed that she was happy as long as the bills were paid, something as simple as paying the electricity bill was tougher than she probably knew.
He’d have to address it at some point, and that was why he was glad she asked what he was thinking on that cold November Sunday while they finished off their chicken dinner in the dark, candlelit dining room. He’d been in distracted silence until then.
“If something’s on your mind, you better set down your fork and talk about it.” Rachel had already put hers down, leaving a couple of potatoes and pushing her plate a few inches forward. She dabbed her light-pink lips with her napkin and then dropped it into the shallow pool of gravy. “I’m waiting.”
A smile tugged at Morgan’s lips. His wife’s ability to recognize when he was in distress was nothing short of magic. If only she was able to solve problems using a similar spell. “Truthfully?”
She nodded.
“I’m worried about cash.”
Alarm set in her wide eyes. Rachel opened her mouth as if to speak but apparently thought better of it. She cleared her throat and leaned her mouth into clasped hands, a sign that she was listening closely.
“Until now we’ve been surviving,” Morgan ventured on, slightly nervous about how she’d react. “But now we need work.”
“Would you like me to find a job?”
“No way,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “You’re doing an amazing job.”
“I’m just saying, I will if you need me to.”
“If anyone’s going to get a job it’s me.”
“What kind of work would interest you?”
Morgan shrugged, pushing his plate away and replicating her napkin routine. “You know investigating is close to my heart. In an ideal world I wouldn’t want to do anything else, but if we want to keep a roof over our heads, we have no choice.”
“Is it that bad? The money, I mean.”
“Let’s just say I need a client fast.”
Rachel crooked an eyebrow. “You’re good at finding those.”
“Not without an office. Appearances are everything in this game. And then there’s—”
“Dusty.” Rachel nodded and gave a thin smile before standing. She reached for her plate and led the way while Morgan took his and followed. As ever, she was leading him, and he knew it. But that was fine. “It would make me a pretty bad person—no, a terrible wife—if I didn’t let you continue your research on Dusty’s case. So here’s an idea…”
Morgan readied himself for the option that was about to come his way. Nervousness twinged at the back of his neck, as he knew he usually took Rachel’s advice before even considering the alternative. So when they entered the brightly lit kitchen and they scraped their plates into the trash, he kept his mouth shut.
“Why don’t you clear out the spare room? It’s just collecting dust right now, and we haven’t used it in months. You could wipe down the desk, and we’ll get you a nice lamp and any stationery you need. I don’t mind having a plaque on the front porch.”
It wasn’t a terrible idea. Morgan maneuvered around her, rinsing his plate and sliding it onto the counter while he considered it. Having an office space would make him more productive, and the possibilities filled him with excitement. It was like a new lease on life; the room would bring clients. The clients would bring money. That money could be used to improve most aspects of their married life, and wasn’t that the goal?
“Sounds like a great idea to me,” he said, only now realizing he was grinning like a giddy schoolboy. “And when I make enough money, maybe we could try renting some office space again. I’d love to get a second shot at this thing. I’ve been hearing a lot about internet advertising, and I’d love to try my hand at exploring that as a means of growth.”
“Do it,” Rachel said, filling the sink with hot water. “Whatever you need to do, just go for it. You’ve been there enough for me while I took HUCINS off the ground. I just hope we can make enough money in time.”
Morgan cocked his head. “In time for what?”
“For…” Rachel shook her head as if whipping water out of her hair. She turned to him and smiled, plunging dishes into the basin. “Never mind. I guess this could work, right? Something tells me you’ll be a lot happier when your business is up and running. Until then, go do what you need to do about Dusty. After that, you can start looking at earning clients.”
“I will.” Morgan pushed his concern aside—for a moment there it seemed as though she had something on her mind, but she would tell him as soon as she was ready. That was the way it’d always worked between them, and there was no point in changing that now. Especially when he had an office to sort through. His heart did backflips of joy at the idea of getting back in the game, and he couldn’t wait to get started. He just had to be certain. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? I don’t want to use a whole room if you need the space.”
“What do I need it for? Go.” Rachel splashed soapy water at him with a quick, catlike swipe. She laughed as a wave of water covered his shirt. “If you really want to get things going again, there’s no time like the present.”
She was right.