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He looked at me. “I’m sorry. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Dean came around the end of the counter.

“Lorrie, this is Martin Vale.”

The man reached into his jacket and removed a business card.

Martin Vale

Vale Investigative Services

Madison, Wisconsin

“Investigator?”

Dean rubbed the back of his neck as Martin’s attention sharpened slightly.

“Lorrie?”

“Yes, I’m Lorrie Hale.”

I saw recognition settle into his face as Dean muttered something under his breath.

I folded my arms. “What exactly is going on?”

The man looked toward the open door, where students moved along State Street under the bright sun.

“Is there somewhere we could speak privately?”

The question made me shiver despite the heat.

Dean locked the register and flipped the small sign on the front door to BACK IN FIVE.

“Upstairs.”

His apartment was hotter than the store, even with both windows open. Otis followed us up, then collapsed beside the sofa with a long sigh, apparently deciding that whatever financial crisis had arrived didn’t justify sitting.

Martin remained near the kitchen table while Dean opened the refrigerator and offered everyone something to drink.

“No, thank you,” he said.

“Water for me,” I said.

Dean handed me a glass and leaned against the counter.

I took a long drink, refilled my glass and faced both men.

“All right,” I said. “Someone should start talking.”

Martin placed his folder on the table. “I want to be clear about something before we do. I’m working for a private client, and there are limits to what I can disclose.”

“Who’s the client?”

“That’s one of the limits.”

I nodded.

“My client has a financial interest in Ellsworth & Pierce, specifically in Alan Ellsworth.”