Thirty-Three
Janice George had built a solid private investigation business uncovering other people’s secrets. It had been a hard slog. She’d spent five years learning the ropes from her father before he’d succumbed to lung cancer, after a lifetime of standing around smoking and watching other people do things they didn’t want either their boss or their spouse to know about.
The business operated from an office in Janice’s seventh floor apartment and advertised on a discreet webpage. She met with clients in the coffee shop opposite her apartment building when they required a face to face meeting. A lot of her assignments came from referrals, and most of the work involved following people and recording where they went and who they spent their time with. It was tedious and often boring but
