Chapter 5Private eyes of yesteryear had their wits to rely on, their street smarts.
It’s what made them succeed.
Today, the rules had all changed. Today you had Google search.
Jimmy McSwain was home, thankfully alone, on what turned out to be a damp, rainy Wednesday afternoon. The Calloway had a two-show day, so his mother and Meaghan had gone off to work. Jimmy, lounging in shorts and a T-shirt, showered but remained unshaved, grabbed a second cup of coffee and sat down at the desktop computer in his bedroom, typed in the words Terence Black. What he got back was of no help at all, since there were too many people with that name, some of them white, some black, a few of them offering up LinkedIn profiles, Twitter accounts, and invitations to become friends on f*******:. He clicked the
