Coming Undone

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JARED HAMILTON DIRECTED the cabbie through dark Denver streets to the old Craftsman-style bungalow that housed Semper Fi Investigations. The taxi pulled into the agency's small parking lot and he climbed from the cab, then watched as the departing vehicle's rear lights grew smaller, blinked red and finally disappeared around a corner two blocks away. Flipping up his collar against the late-spring chill, he turned and climbed the covered front porch to let himself into the dark reception area. Down the hallway a single light glowed through the frosted-glass transom over John Miglionni's door. Bypassing his own office, he stuck his head into his brother-in-law's. "Hey. What are you still doing here at this hour?"

John clicked a command on his keyboard and pushed back to look up at him. "I was actually waiting around hoping to see you."

"Why? What's up?" Dropping his overnighter to the floor, Jared flopped down on the chair facing John's desk. "Must be something work-related. You wouldn't be here at eleven forty-five on a Thursday night if anything had happened to Tori and/or the kids."

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