Regret is a petty bitch.
It screws you up, tears you down, and if you let it, it can dictate the future direction of your life.
When you destroy your life as spectacularly as I did, you get two choices--wallow in pity and stay down or try to rebuild everything from the ground up.
At first, I chose the former. After Vegas, I returned to San Francisco and didn’t leave the house. I drank myself into a hole until I’d black out. It was the only way to numb the pain and block out the disappointment and self-loathing. Then I’d wake up the next day and do it all over again, just sitting on my couch and locking myself away from the world.
I lost everything in one fell swoop. I did not pass go, I did not collect two hundred dollars and I definitely did not get any semblance of a happy ever after. All I had was a ruined reputation, a broken heart twice over and an empty bed. All because of one stupid, dangerous, reckless decision that led to the kidnapping of two innocent people, one of whom was shot, and being royally screwed over by a third. The only good thing to come out of it was that the man behind it all went to prison and will never breathe fresh air again. Then I screwed over the last person I had in my corner, one who had my back but who I hurt so badly, she cut ties forever.
Ten months ago, when I was at my lowest and considering things I had no business considering, I received a phone call. It was a lifeline, an opportunity, a chance that I grabbed hold of with two hands. I’m still plagued with guilt and regret for what I did and what could’ve been, but I also have a new life here in Seattle, away from all the bridges I burned in my past.
“You're in early,” my friend and boss Harry says as he walks into our small, seen-better-days office in Tacoma and sits behind his desk. It was Harry who dragged me out of the deep black hole I was burying myself in and offered me a job as a private investigator.
“Couldn't sleep. Figured I might as well work on this stealing case.”
Harry's brows arch. “The one with the sticky-fingered employee?”
“That’s it. He’s a wily one. Seems to know where all the cameras are, even the pinhole ones I put in last week. And he hasn't stolen a thing since. It makes me think he's got his own surveillance in there.”
“Makes sense,” he says, rubbing his chin. “But how would he do that? Or know to do that? He’s what, twenty-two?”
“Yeah, but he’s also studying computer science at Seattle University. So, he's smart with stuff like that.”
Harry's gaze turns calculating, an expression I've seen him wear many times since I started working for him both here and back when we were detectives for the SFPD together. “Maybe we can use his skills,” he muses, tapping his pen against the desk. “I think I’ve just come across a case that may need an amateur hacker. It could be right up his alley.”
I lean forward, leaning my elbows against my desk. “You want to bring in the thieving employee of a client for a job interview?”
He shrugs. “Two birds, one stone. It would get him out of the shop and away from his computer while you go in and install some of my new cameras that can't be seen, and I'll distract him with a fake job interview.”
“You think that'll work?”
“It'll give us a chance to close the case sooner rather than later and he won’t see it coming. You know just as well as I do that sometimes the only way to outsmart people like that is to beat them at their own game. If he's watching the feed and lining his pockets on our client’s dime, then let’s give him the chance to become the star of his own show. Except this time, it’ll be us dictating the plot and the outcome.”
I nod, impressed with Harry's cunning plan. He’s always been the kind of man who’s one step ahead of the game. It’s what made him a successful detective with one of the highest closing records in SFPD history—until he retired, and I picked up the reins and beat his standing record a year later.
It’s the same tenacious approach to life that has made him an even better private investigator. “Alright, I'll set it up and talk to him. But we need to make sure he doesn't suspect anything.”
Harry nods in agreement. “Leave that to me. I'll handle the fake job interview and keep him busy while you work your magic.”
“OK. Sounds good. I'll call the owner.”
He gets up and walks around his desk, resting his ass on the wood. “Since you're here, be prepared to hand over this case to me because I’ve got another one coming in hot, and I want you to take it.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask, interest piqued.
“Got a call last night from a long-standing contact of mine. Seems he’s got a problem he wants us to help him out with.”
My brow goes up. “And you’re giving it to me? Anyone would think you're taking my training wheels off.”
He snorts, his lips tugging up on the side. “You haven't needed those since the first day you walked in here and you damn well know that.”
“I was a mess,” I state matter-of-factly.
Harry pins me with a stare. “I’ve told you time and time again, the day you stop beating yourself up about things you cannot change will be the day you get a good night's sleep and stop doubting yourself.”
Now I'm the one scoffing. “You make it sound easy.”
“Probably because I've put criminals away for far worse than what you did who had far less punishment for it and they sleep fine.”
“Wish it was that simple.”
“Aiden, you made a mistake. It won't be the first time and it likely won't be the last. You wouldn't be human if you didn't fall on your ass sometimes. Tell me a man who hasn’t screwed up because of a woman and I’ll tell you you’re wrong every time.”
“OK, wise one. What do you suggest I do? I broke the law and it led to a man and a woman almost getting killed.”
“But they weren't. The bad guy was jailed. You've more than suffered the consequences of your actions. If you keep focusing on the past and not the future, you'll never sleep, you'll never live, and one day, you'll find yourself looking in the mirror at a has-been with nothing to show for his life.”
I shoot him a wry grin. “You sound like you're talking from experience when I damn well know you left the force willingly, not because you wanted to save your pension.”
“I was called in and dressed down more times than you can count, all for following my heart instead of my head. If you saw my record, your head would spin,” he chuckles.
Silence falls between us as I roll his words over in my mind. “So, this case…”
“Is the opportunity to face your past and move on from it.”
My head jerks back as a sinking feeling in my gut makes its presence known. “Tell me about it then.”
“Money is being skimmed off the top by his business partner, and not a small amount either. But he can’t trace it,” he explains.
“And that’s where I come in, I assume? You’ve seen my resume, I never worked financial crimes.”
“Ah, but you covered white collar and computer crimes at the FBI academy, didn't you? You’re many things, Aiden Lawrence, but a fraud isn’t one of them.”
I shrug because he’s not wrong. It’s still not helping the uneasy feeling in my gut. “OK, then. Give me the Cliff notes version and I'll let you know if you're barking up the wrong tree putting me on this case.”
“The client is not exactly squeaky clean, but clean enough,” Harry starts, telling me all I need to know. He may not be on the up and up, but he's up enough. Meaning as far as we know, he's not doing anything that'll hurt good people. That's something I've had to learn to get used to since becoming a PI. As a police detective, everything’s black and white--at least it was until I decided to create a whole new shade of grey. Moving on...
“This other boss, how sure is the client that it’s him doing the skimming?”
“It’s one of the two of them so I’m thinking that’s enough confirmation. He just needs proof of whatever is going on. When he has that, he can act. It’s a lucrative operation and very high profile. All you need to do is go in, tread carefully, bide your time and make sure you dot all the I’s and cross all the T’s so the client gets the information he wants. It has got to be concrete though. Open and shut.”
“How am I supposed to do that and how long do I have to do it?” My mind is already racing with possibilities. Surveillance, a confidential informant on the inside, a wiretap, dummy transactions. None of it is foolproof though.
“He wants you to go in and stay in for however long it takes.”
It takes a moment to realize what he's saying. “In as in undercover?”
“Yep. And you're the only one out of the two of us who can do it.”
I stare at him, my eyes bugging out. “Out of the two of us, sure. Out of everyone on the West Coast, no.”
“He came to me for this, Aiden. We can’t turn it down.” Harry lets those words hang in the air between us. “It’s not like I can pass for security in a club like that.”
“Club?”
“Yep.” I realize that he’s acting suspicious. His answers are too clipped and non-descriptive. Which means there's something he's not telling me.
I narrow my eyes. “What kind of club?”
“It’s called Marquis.” I frown because I've never heard of a club called that in Seattle.
“Where is it?”
Harry watches me closely, his features tight as he confirms my suspicions. “Vegas.”
I’m already shaking my head as he speaks. “Harry, I can't--”
“Yeah, that word never used to be in your vocabulary. Not the Aiden Lawrence I knew.”
“You know that man is long gone. There are now a lot of should nots, could nots and can nots in my arsenal and anything to do with Vegas earns all of those.”
“Yet here I am, looking at the same man I met over a decade ago. A man who never let anything stop him.”
I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean.”
Harry nods. “Yeah, I do. But I don't agree. Look, I know it's not ideal, but this is a case we have to take. We should take. And it’s the only way he can get the evidence he needs.”
“Can you assure me it's not connected to anyone from my past in Vegas?” I let that hang there because that's a deal breaker for me.
He stares at me, his gaze intense and unwavering. “I'll level with you. You've got to do this case. I owe this guy a favor and he's calling it in.”
“How deep in this are you?”
“Nothing like that,” he says, shaking his head. “He helped me a while ago and now he’s wanting my help in return. So, when I say you're the only man for the job, I’m not lying.”
I’m already working out the logistics in my head. My place here in Seattle may not be great, but it’s still mine. “How long do you think it’ll take?
“I don’t know. Money’s not an issue here. Well, it is the issue, but isn’t something you need to worry about. He just wants you there.”
There's a giant but on the tip of my tongue but one look at Harry's face tells me there's no point arguing anymore. This is a favor he must pay, and I'm the only one who can do it. It's pretty much a done deal no matter what I say because I owe Harry a hell of a lot and after letting down a lot of people in my life, he's not someone I could or would ever do that to.
“It's not like you’d have to break the law. I'd never ask that of you.”
My lips curl up. “Just bend it occasionally, right?”
“Maybe a little if needed,” Harry replies with a shrug. “The key thing is to get in there, snoop around, and report back if and when you find anything.”
I lean back in my chair, that uncomfortable feeling deep inside me not going away. But it’s not about the case. I can do jobs like this in my sleep. It’s about going back to the city where I lost everything. The mecca of my downfall.
It's been almost a year since I lost everything and hit rock bottom. The memories are painful, etched into my mind like scars that will never fade. I have wrongs to right in Vegas, and this could be the opportunity to do exactly that. This case could be my chance at redemption, a chance to face my past and move on. It won't be easy, but I've never been one to back down from a challenge. I never used to, anyway.
“Alright.”
His brows jump up. “You're in?”
“Not like I’ve got much choice but yeah. Yeah. But if it drags on for months, I'll be blowing up your phone to get me out.”
“Deal.” The tension he's holding leaks out of him as he slumps down with a relieved sigh. “I'll make the arrangements with him. He’s rented a condo for you in Vegas too. Nothing that can be linked to anyone.”
My head jerks back as my brows rise. “Are there going to be people looking that deep into me?”
“Probably. But you're going in as yourself. You do remember one of the first things they tell you about going undercover?”
“Stick close to the truth.”
“Exactly. An ex-cop who fell from grace who’s just trying to make a living and keep his head above water by taking whatever gig he can get. To a man like that, a security job at the hottest and most exclusive club in Vegas is the holy grail.”
“You sure you're not just setting me up for a new life in Vegas to get rid of me?” I say with a wry smirk.
Harry grins, relief evident in his features. “Why would I do that? You’re stuck with me. If I was going to do that, I wouldn’t send you there.”
“Good. I’m not looking to move again any time soon.”
“I guess this is where I tell you that your flight is already booked for Monday, and I’ve got all the details so you can hit the ground running when you get there,” he says.
I chuckle with a shake of my head. “Doesn’t seem like I ever had a choice in this. Am I that much of a sure thing?”
Harry shrugs before leaning toward me. From his stance alone, I know he's about to level with me in a way I might not like. The thing with Harry is that whatever he says, it's always what he thinks I need to hear. Most of the time, he’s not wrong.
“You've come a long way, Aiden, and you'd continue to get back to the man you were before Vegas with or without this case. But take it from me, a man running from his past is not running toward a future he deserves. You’ve been going in circles and it’s high time you quit running. Maybe when you do, you'll find a new path that leads you in the right direction.”
“That's a lot of sage advice, boss.”
“Yeah. Too much. So how about we get on to closing this theft case and then you can get yourself in the right headspace to get on that plane in a few days? Because Aiden, chances like this don't come along very often.”
“To bring down a bad guy? Had a few of those in my time, Harry.” I smirk, but Harry doesn’t return the grin, he meets my eyes and I know he means business.
“No. A chance at redemption. Something tells me this might be yours.”