1

"I think that's the last of it." Bailey said with a sigh, flopping onto the couch they had wrestled into the office that morning.

"Damn good thing. Could it get any fuckin' hotter out there?" Ken went to the air conditioning controls on the wall and adjusted it down a few degrees. The air in the office was already cool-the fan kicked in and Bailey smiled at the rush of cold air that wafted through the room.

"You were the one who wanted to move in NOW. Summertime. Texas. You do the math." Bailey pointed out.

Ken shook his head. "Yeah, yeah." He moved a box out of the way and sank onto the couch next to Bailey, looking hot and tired. His blonde hair was out of sorts from running his hands through it in frustration. There was a smudge of dust on his cheek.

"Need a nap, Kenny?" Bailey asked when he yawned.

"I need a fuckin' vacation."

"We haven't even started working yet, you already want time off." Bailey smacked his arm half-heartedly. Truth be told, she was dead on her feet too. They'd started moving into the office at eight that morning. It was now past three. They had worked through the hottest hours of the day, doing the hottest work they would have to do. They both had to be crazy.

"Just a day or two." Ken whined. Then he grinned boyishly. "We should really think of a better name that Anderson Cooper."

Bailey laughed. "Why? People might think we're that guy from CNN and come see us anyway."

"That's just it."

"Well, Ken and Bailey sound like morning newscasters. So we'll stick with what we have. Besides…we haven't even ordered the damn lettering on the door yet. It's not too late to come up with something better."

Ken nodded. "If you say so." He yawned again. "There's still a lot of unpacking…"

"We can do that tomorrow." Bailey said, stretching her arms over her head. This had been a big gamble for her. And for Ken. It was still up in the air whether or not their business would flourish, but she was optimistic.

Ken and Bailey had known each other since childhood. They'd both joined the Houston police force right out of high school. They were both injured in the line of duty. Ken had been stabbed during a raid of an apartment building one night. A young woman, her eyes wild, had managed to cut him deeply. She'd hit a nerve bundle on his lower back. Ken sometimes had difficulty moving his left leg-often he would be walking and lose all feeling in it with no warning. He dealt with it. The department had given him severance pay. They could not keep a cop on their roster who could not chase criminals.

Bailey had been doing routine traffic stops when a man had taken offense to her being a cop. He'd shot her twice, once in the stomach, once in the leg, before driving off. She'd been too stunned to feel any pain. She calmly climbed back into her squad car, called in to dispatch, and had passed out in the driver's seat. When she came too, she found that they guy had shot two other officers before finally being subdued, killing one of them. When she'd put in her notice to quit, no one had been surprised.

She had tried a security job for a while. It was boring. She hated having to do what other people told her to do. So she'd been more than willing to listen to Ken's idea…a business where they could use their police skills and be their own bosses. A private investigation firm. They could still collar bad guys, could still do routine police-type work. The best part was…they could set their own hours and pick and choose their cases.

It had taken quite a bit of capital to get it started. They'd set up shop an hour's drive from home, because it had been a more affordable option. Slowly they built up a list of clients. They handled as many cases as they could, regretfully referring the odd case here and there to other agencies in town. They'd finally saved up enough money to move into their own building. They planned on using the downstairs as an office, and upstairs as a safe house. It was an untried theory of Ken's, but one that Bailey could find no argument with.

They both made fun of the name of their company. Anderson Cooper was a reporter for CNN. Bailey had not noticed it until Ken pointed it out. They'd had a good laugh over it, but had not bothered with anything else. They were used to it.

"Want a drink?" Ken asked, following her lead and stretching his arms over his head. His back popped loudly. Bailey laughed.

"Sure. We got any water back there yet?" In the back of the office was a tiny kitchen. Bailey had asked that bottled water be kept in the fridge. She had not checked yet to see if it had been done.

"I can check it out." Ken groaned and stood up.

"How's the leg?"

"Functioning. How's your liver?" Ken laughed as he moved toward the kitchen.

"You're a retard, Kenny." Bailey rolled her eyes. The bullet had not gone anywhere near her liver. It had passed through lower stomach. The good news was…she was alive. The bad news…she would never be able to have children. She wasn't sure how she felt about that yet. She hadn't even thought of starting a family.

Bailey pushed herself up from the couch, twisting her arms to make her back pop, skin prickling at the cold air that wafted over her. It felt damn good compared to the heat outside. She moved toward the corner that housed her desk, meaning to get started on unpacking her computer and hooking it up.

She'd just opened the box when the door behind her squeaked open. Bailey glanced over her shoulder, eyebrows raised. They were not open…would not be open for at least a week. Every one of their clients knew that. They worked with several businesses doing intensive background checks on potential employees. They all had been told that the month of July was a month off from work for Anderson Cooper. They had to move.

It was not what she expected.

Instead of one of the men in business suits that usually frequented their agency, there stood a little girl. She couldn't be more than five or six. Her hair was long, down to her waist, dark blonde. Her eyes were huge dark blue pools. She sniffled a little, looking as if she were on the verge of tears and fighting them every step.

"Honey…are you all right?" Computer forgotten, Bailey turned and moved across the cluttered room toward the girl. She got down on her knee so they were at eye level.

"I can't find my dog…" This was a whispered statement, said just before the sweet little voice issued a soft sob.

"Ok, honey. What kind of dog?" Bailey asked, trying to get the kid to focus on something that would not make her cry.

"Spiderman." The girl's big eyes filled with tears. Wetness spilled over her lashes and down her cheeks.

"Spiderman?" Bailey asked, fighting against a smile.

"That's…my dog…" The girl's voice was so soft Bailey could barely hear it.

"Hon…where are your parents?" Bailey asked, looking at the door behind the girl. It was a full cut piece of glass, completely see through. There was no one on the sidewalk in front of the office.

"Mark is over there…" The girl waved a hand. Apparently 'over there' to her meant anywhere in the world where she wasn't. "Momma's…" She waved again. Big blue eyes rose to meet Bailey's. "I heard some old man say you were detects and you could find stuff. Can you find my dog?"

Bailey smiled at the girl. "It's detective, hon. Private investigators…" She trailed off. The little girl obviously did not care. "What's your name?"

"Payge." The girl replied promptly.

"Payge…not to scare you, but didn't anybody ever tell you not to talk to strangers?"

"Momma says I can talk to police all I want to." Payge said defiantly.

Bailey smiled again. "Close enough for me, I guess. How about I walk you over to where your mom is?"

"You won't help me?" Those big eyes turned cloudy. Uh oh. Bailey sighed. She opened her mouth to speak when the door behind Payge was thrown open forcefully.

"Payge! What did I tell you about wandering off, talking to strange people, going out of sight?" The woman did not give the girl time to answer as she swooped her into her arms and hugged her, sounding on the verge of tears.

"Momma, I wanted help." The girl said patiently. The woman sniffled against her daughter and warily eyed Bailey over her shoulder.

"Baby, I told you we can get another dog…"

"No! I want Spidey back!" Payge's lower lip trembled. She sobbed and buried her face against her mother's neck.

That they were mother and daughter was obvious to Bailey. The woman's hair was dark, nearly black, but the eyes were the same. And the facial features…the little girl certainly took after her mother.

"I'm sorry she bothered you, ma'am." The woman said, apologizing.

"It's not a bother. Finding lost stuff is what I do." Bailey smiled reassuringly and once again looked toward the door. It had opened again. A very…very…tall man entered. His shoulder length, dark hair was tied back. A pair of sunglasses rested against his forehead. His green eyes carried a worried, protective vibe. Bailey took him in, awed at the size of the guy. She was not short by any means but her head barely made it to this guy's chest.

"Everything all right, Austin?" He asked, his voice a deep rumble. He directed the question at the woman who was still holding the little girl. Payge was struggling to get free from her mother's arms.

"Fine, all fine, she's all right…" Austin breathed out in a rush.

The man eyed Bailey with interest, looking her up and down as if weighing her against some interior image. Then he nodded. "Good. Ready to go, little one?" He directed it at Payge.

"No." Payge finally wriggled free and stood next to her mother, her arm around her mother's knee.

"Payge." The man's voice held a warning note. Not a harsh one. If Bailey had heard anger in it, she would have dropped the big man on his ass, no matter how much he outweighed her. She wouldn't stand for some man intimidating a little girl. Or any kid for that matter.

"Please, Mark…Please?" The girl pleaded softly. She looked to Bailey, her eyes pleading as well. Bailey sighed tiredly, smiling at the little girl.

"What kind of dog is Spiderman, honey?" Bailey asked, ignoring the two adults for now.

"He's a…" Payge looked to her mother.

"He's a lab." Austin supplied weakly. "Payge…there is no way we can afford to have a private investigator run around town looking for your dog! I told you, we'll check the pound every couple of days, and the neighbors…"

It was not enough for the little girl. The pout returned. "Momma…I don't wanna let him go to the pound. They'll kill him!" She sniffled, louder this time, more tears falling from beautiful dark eyes.

Bailey heard a noise from behind her and knew that Ken had entered the room. She had the distinct feeling of being stuck between a rock and a hard place. So she did the first thing she thought of. Kneeling once again, she motioned to the little girl. Payge stepped toward her slowly, hope in her eyes.

"I tell you what kid, it's your lucky day. We're runnin' a special this week." Bailey smiled reassuringly. The girl smiled back. It was weak but it nearly took Bailey's breath away. The kid was adorable. "You have a buck?"

The girl frowned and dug into the pocket of the shorts she was wearing. Payge pulled her hand out and showed her a wrinkled dollar bill that looked like it had seen better days. She held it out. Bailey took it, her face turning serious.

"The fee is a dollar now, another dollar when we finish the investigation. Agreed?" She held out her hand. Payge hesitated, as if not really sure she was hearing right.

"Wait a minute…" The man, Mark, stepped forward.

"We can't let you…" Austin said at the same time, watching as her daughter slowly took the woman's hand in hers.

"I told you…I'm runnin' a special." Bailey said, looking from Austin to Mark. She shook Payge's hand solemnly. "Now…around this place, a handshake is a good as a contract. I'll find your dog, hon. Don't you worry."

"Yeah?" Payge's smile widened. Bailey could not help but smile back.

"Count on it." She gave the girl's hand a squeeze and let her go. "I have a very high clear rate. I think you'd be quite pleased, if you knew what I was talking about." She gave the little girl a wink. The girl giggled and returned to her mother's side. "I'll need a picture of Spiderman, if you have one." Knowing that THAT particular statement was ridiculous, Bailey could not help but laugh.

Payge nudged her mother's leg. Austin dug into her purse. She brought out a picture. "It's from last week…we just had them developed…" She said, holding it out. Bailey had risen to her feet. She took the picture and looked down at it, smiling. In it, a grinning Payge sat next to a tawny colored dog. The dog also looked like it was grinning.

"Mind if I hold on to this?"

Austin shook her head. "Not at all. I have copies…" She looked at Mark. He shrugged.

"Go on out to the truck. I'll be there in a minute." He said softly, smiling down at the woman. Austin nodded and ushered Payge through the door. Mark stood there for a long moment, looking down at Bailey as if trying to read her mind.

"I'll need your phone number, her full name, address." Bailey said, moving toward her desk again. She had forms somewhere…she decided to hell with it. She picked up a notepad and pen, then turned to find that Mark had followed her. He towered over her, looking down at her with interest.

"Payge Co…Calaway." He corrected himself. Bailey's expression did not change, but she caught his slip up. He gave a phone number and an address. Then he went back to staring. "You don't have to do this, you know. We can find her dog."

"Not a problem. It would be a nice break from finding cheating husbands and finding out that some idiot didn't actually go to MIT." Bailey commented, jotting down a few notes. She tucked the picture into the notebook and looked at Mark expectantly. Up close, his eyes were a very vibrant green. Intense. She had to struggle not to squirm under his gaze.

"I can afford your fee. Austin…can't…right now, but it seems wrong to let you help for nothin'." Mark stated.

Bailey shook her head. "My fee was quite clearly stated at the door. My contract is with Payge, not you or your…" She paused waiting for him to say the obvious.

"Sister. Austin." Mark nodded. He was smirking a bit.

"Sister?" Bailey asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Same father. Different mothers. Half sister, I suppose you'd say." Mark smiled. It made her notice his lips. Bailey licked her own lips thinking about his. They were that damned sensuous.

"Well…Mister…Calaway?" She said, hesitating.

"Mark. Just Mark, please."

"Mark, then. I should probably get to work finding this dog. I'll call, let you all know if I come up with anything." Bailey dragged her eyes from his mouth and looked down at her notepad, flipping it open to once again study the picture. Mark nodded without her seeing and turned to leave.

"Thank you." His voice was a deep rumble. Before Bailey could reply, he was out the door, into the heat of the late afternoon. She sighed and tapped the notebook against her fingers, thinking.

"First case, and already giving a discount. Damn." Ken said from behind her, making her jump.

"Damn! Could you warn somebody before you go sneakin' up on them?" Bailey pressed a hand to her chest.

"That would kinda be against the principle of sneakin', now wouldn't it?" Ken smiled. "Cute kid."

"She is." Bailey nodded.

"Cute Momma too."

"If you say so, Kenny." Bailey laughed. Ken was not a skirt chaser by any means, but he did enjoy looking.

"Dude was checking you out something fierce."

"Gee…I hadn't noticed." Bailey laughed again.

"Something's going on there. I don't know what, but it goes beyond a missin' dog." Ken said, his tone serious. Bailey nodded. She'd gotten that feeling too.

"Not our problem. Unless they pay us to make it out problem." Bailey reminded him. She took the bottle of water from his hand, then turned to pick up her purse.

"Where are you goin'?" Ken asked as she went toward the door. "We still have unpackin' to do."

"I have a case, remember?" She waved the notebook at him. "I'll be back in an hour. Don't freak out, Kenny. I'll do my share." With a laugh she went outside, regretting it the moment the door shut behind her. It felt as hot as an oven, the sun baking from the sky, heating the sidewalk, baking up from the ground. "Christ…next time we move, it's Alaska…" Bailey muttered to herself as she walked toward her Jeep. She would start at the pound, then decide what to do from there. The Jeep's air conditioning was on high as she pulled onto the road, the radio blasting a rock tune to keep her company.