“That’s awesome. I mean, not about the person. You’re working a case. Cool.”

“I’m flying down in a helicopter.” That bit’s exciting.

“No fucking way. Like for the police or the FBI?”

Mr. Wolfgang’s ice-blue eyes and grim countenance come to mind. My heartbeat slows as if he is fixing me with his steely gaze, sucking the oxygen from the room with his commanding presence. Those broad shoulders and height demand respect from those he towers over, but it’s more than his physical presence. He’s the type of man who doesn’t do small talk. He had been serious, attentive, and aware. He’d also seen right through me and discerned I had little to no experience to offer. But Jack had been correct. I do know Sophia. I love her, and I loved her mother. Therefore, he can trust me. No matter what we discover Sophia has gotten herself involved in, he can trust me. I’ll be there for them both. My discretion is assured.

Still, I’ll need to be at the top of my game or Mr. Wolfgang will dismiss me as useless. The man epitomizes no bullshit. He’s the founder of the best security firm in the state and one that takes on a variety of work. I would never want to consider Sophia’s hardship a blessing for me, but there’s no denying this situation opens a door.

“Arrow Security? You’ve probably never heard of them.” With my phone propped between my shoulder and ear, I maneuver my clothes so my hairdryer will fit in the suitcase.

“They did the security for that big vineyard event last month.”

“I don’t remember that.” I get my news from the BBC and online sources. If I pick up a local newspaper, it is for weekend events.

“When the NSA caught members of Spectre in Santa Barbara? You don’t remember that? One of those cybercrime organizations being right here?”

“Of course I remember that. I just didn’t connect the wine festival. Rumors were he was here for that event, right?”

“Yep. That’s great that you get to work with them. Go. I’ve got it covered. Send me your notes. I’ll text with any questions.”

“Timothy?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” I hope my gratitude flows through the line, because he doesn’t have to do this for me. He could make a big stink of it if he wanted, and our department head would probably sit me down for a reprimand.

“Hey, don’t mention it. Oh, before I forget, your dad called.”

“He called you?” I suppose he picks up on my disbelief, because he chuckles.

“No. He called the office. Caller ID didn’t show, and I thought it was pizza delivery. Said to call him.”

“It’s his weekly check-in,” I mumble. I should call him, but I won’t.

“Hey, so, am I going to see your case on the news?”

“Let’s hope not.”

“Why? Won’t pictures of the missing person everywhere help you find him?”

“It’s a high-profile person. Discretion has been requested.”

“Ah, now I want to know. Inquiring minds want to know, Alex.”