Lost Cause (A Daisy Dunlop Mystery ~ Book 1)

Chapter One

A real P.I. would have thought to get the address before she was running late. Not that hunting heirs made Daisy a P.I., or that she wanted the title, although having a handgun would be cool. However, she couldn't imagine any need to shoot people when she was about to tell them they had inherited their dearly departed's worldly goods.

She slowed down to check the building numbers. Even though she was in the backstreets of Southampton the office and shop fronts along the row were all chrome and glass, swanky and very upmarket. Despite the makeover the developers had done well to maintain the English city's unique history and charm. She passed twenty-six and stopped, there was no twenty-six B. She tugged her phone from her bag and checked her husband Paul's response to her SOS. He had definitely said twenty-six B.

The door to the In Bloom florist at twenty-six opened and a blonde stepped out carrying an advertising sandwich board.

"Excuse me. I'm looking for number twenty-six B. I'm running late, and now I can't find the office."

The blonde set the board down and turned her attention to Daisy. "Ah, you must be looking for our mysterious tall, dark, and handsome neighbor."

"So Solomon's office is near here, then?"

"The entrance is around the side. You can't miss it."

Daisy glanced around the corner of the florist. "Do you mean down the stairs? Is his office in the cellar?"

"According to the landlord, it's more a bespoke bijou basement."

"Great, a pokey, run-down cave. Why am I not surprised to discover Solomon dwells underground?"

"Why are you looking for him?"

Good question. Daisy considered her options. To work as his slave? To be trained as an heir hunter, family historian, and finder of the lost, because her husband didn't trust her to work alone? Employee? None of the options appealed. "I'm his new partner."

"So you know what line of business he's in? What does sultry Solomon do?"

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to shoot you."

The blonde's laughter was light and melodic. "I'm Belinda."

"Daisy."

"If you get bored doing whatever it is you do with Mr. Mysterious, drop in for coffee."

Belinda's outfit was definitely more Harvey Nicks than Primark, and her accent indicated she was posh totty. Not the sort that Daisy usually hung out with. However, Belinda had a twinkle in her hazel eyes, and laughter lines around her beautifully penciled and painted red lips.

"I might take you up on your offer. See you later," Daisy called, waving good-bye and ducking around the corner. She took a moment to tug her ponytail tight, pull her distressed leather jacket straight, and get her breath back, before descending the stairs. A shiver ran up her spine. The black door with the word SOLOMON'S above it in a square blocky font was hardly inviting, and the large brass knocker appeared to be the only way to announce her arrival.

She pushed her shoulders back, grasped the knocker, and rammed it hard against the dark timber a couple of times. The door swung open, and she met the frosty blue-eyed glare of the man in question.

"You're late."

"Hello, Solomon. Lovely to see you too. Yes, I will come in. Thanks for asking."

"Don't be a smart-arse."

"Don't be an obnoxious pig." She met his fierce gaze as she stepped around him. "If you keep glowering like that you'll get wrinkles and a permanent unibrow. How attractive would that look?"