I'll be the first to admit to another flaw; I can't cook to save my life. Even boiling water is a bit beyond me at times, and not just because of the variations in atmospheric pressure and cooking equipment. But Sparrow is a woman of true depths, and she cooks as well as she pilots a ship. Despite me distracting her, and vice versa, somehow a stew comes together. And I chopped vegetables, so I helped. I think it does us both some good to take some time alone.

  I spend a little time with my arms wrapped around her, holding her and feeling her arms around me in turn. In my overlay, I can see her temp augment and the unfiltered node. The silver thread that I gently touch. We link together, and the dual sensations roll through us as we touch. Feeling her hands on my back from both our perspectives, and mine on hers. Her breath on my collarbone as I feel my breath in her ear. Of course, the kiss is more intense. But I break the kiss off before we... can't break it off. I hope you get the idea.

  I haven't been this open with someone in a long time. I keep finding myself wanting to reach out and hold her and distracting myself watching swirls running down Sparrows arms. And I'll admit, the crop top and shorts she picked pull my eye a bit. Ah, to hell with it. I turn the pot down to simmer and take her hand, nodding to the bedroom and getting a grin back. Lucy was right; work can wait.

  But sitting down that evening at the table alongside both of them, with a steaming bowl of beef pot stew in front of me, I can't think about anything except work.

  I sigh, shaking my head as I drop my spoon in the bowl. "This software-peddler was unbelievable. I'm shocked he wouldn't even offer me a referral. I mean, I still bought the scrambler, but he just seemed to like screwing with me."

  Lucy snorts at that, slurping her stew straight from the bowl without shame. "Nah, he figured you were a cop. It's the way you stand, and scan the crowds," she adds, wiping her lip.

  I tilt my head, frowning. "I mean, he asked, and I flat out admitted I was a former cop. It's not like I'm active duty and undercover."

  Lucy barks a laugh at that. "Yeah, see, the thing is Mel? A former cop is good cover for a current cop. Don't have to hide much or make up much backstory, just fake a termination or resignation. Like, one in lieu of a medical suspension," she says, rolling her fingers.

  Sparrow sighs as well, putting her own spoon down. "She's got a point, Melody. It's actually not unheard of out here for a PI to go CI, if there are credits involved."

  I put a hand to my head, rubbing my temple. "Vacuum sucking- are you saying everyone's going to think-"

  "Nah, but some will wonder, and that'll be enough for them to want you outta their place," Lucy says, tapping the table. "Besides, former cops have enemies. And might have friends still on the force. There's just a lotta unknowns, and you're a stranger here. Gonna take time to make a name, you know?"

  I turn that around a few times. All of the drawbacks of being a cop, none of the benefits. "Well, how am I supposed to make a name for myself if nobody gives me a chance?"

  "Jax gave you a chance," Sparrow pipes up, giving me a glance.

  I blush. "Yeah, I'm trying to work that one. But the case he referred to me isn't one with any leads..." I turn to Lucy. "But I was hoping to pick your brain and maybe change that."

  Lucy smiles at that, giving me a look. "Is it about plants? Or engines?"

  I shake my head. "More general Navy questions. You enlisted, right?"

  She blinks and straightens up, pushing the bowl forward. "Way back, yeah; I did two tours. Been a long time, obviously," she says, smiling wistfully.

  I nod, putting my spoon down. "Well, that case I was referred by Jax a week back? I'm not really having any luck with it."

  "And it involved a sailor?"

  "Yeah, looking into a fraud case," I say, leaning forward. I pull up the details in silver in my overlay. "It's a mess. He arranged a wire transfer at a digital Jovian bank, who washed their hands of the whole transaction."

  Lucy snorts loudly at that. "Let me guess, Daedalus Credit Union?" I blink and nod. She gives me a grin in return. "Yeah, all the Navy boys get accounts with them, cuz they offer a rebate for military. Plus, rebates for referrals, so the whole ship ends up opening new accounts and blowing the money on booze and hookers. But the rates are terrible, and they charge fees out the rear. Plus, they don't really do 'customer service' for their clients."

  I let out a slow breath. "Yeah, I figured they were shady; I couldn't find a lot of info on them," I admit. Aside from reams of customer complaints about their overdraft policy and obscene account-closure fees. "Still, I hope they do fraud investigations."

  Sparrow chews a carrot, tilting her head. "Well, if someone hacked their system or spoofed an ID? Sure. But since they aren't, I'm assuming that didn't happen?"

  "No, it's a bit more complicated," I say, biting my bottom lip. "He authorized the payment, but the other party lied about their identity. I couldn't get a lot of details, but it was a catfishing scam for some dating service."

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Lucy cackles at that. "Hah. Poor lonely sailors," she snickers. "And he hired you to find out where his credits went?"

  I sigh. "Yeah, I took the case on contingency, since he wasn't willing to pay up front."

  I get a wry grin from her. "Normally a fool's errand."

  I bite my tongue, shrugging with a weak smile. "Well, if the credits went anywhere sunward, we'll never see them again. But it's a charity case; I'd like to turn up some information, if nothing else."

  Lucy puts her elbows on the table, leaning forward and narrowing her eyes. "If I had to guess? It'd have to be local. To catfish in real-time, without lightspeed lag? The bounce-back would have to keep it Jovian. And to pass for human, not synth?"

  I furrow my brow. "Well, it wouldn't be on Io; they wouldn't want to risk a meatspace meeting with an angry sailor, if they were tracked down.

  Lucy nods. "I'd guess there's an operation running out Callisto or Ganymede, funneling credits from these gullible rubes."

  I shake my head. "An operation? Like professional, not just a script-kid in a basement?"

  She nods. "Sure, these Navy boys get real lonely; I could see them getting taken in with some profiles with spoofed identities." She taps her chin. "Get the Navy boys all sweet on them, then say how they're having trouble paying the bills, or want to buy a ticket to visit them on Io..."

  Sparrow looks up, snapping her fingers. "Oof, and the sailors spend their paycheck, and somehow she never arrives, yeah?"

  I give her a rueful grin. "Yeah, we saw things like this with long-haul freighters out of Luna. They might even run up a bunch of debt in the victim's name. And some of these poor boys don't twig on. They don't want to. They just keep sinking that money in, buying each new excuse," I say, rolling my eyes.

  Sparrow leans back, blinking. "I'm surprised; you'd think the sailors would be furious and out for blood."

  Lucy gives her a grin at that. "Oh, these sailors admitting they got played for suckers?" She chuckles. "Sorry sweetie, they're more heartbroken, and mostly too embarrassed to pursue it."

  I scratch my neck, thinking. "Yeah? I could see that. The other sailors would never let them live it down.

  Lucy takes another long slurp of stew. "Can't argue there. Why's your boy so invested then?"

  I sigh, twirling my spoon in my own bowl. "He gave her enough to rent a ship."

  Lucy whistles. "Poor lad was thinking with his lower head."

  I smile at that. "Well, any idea where I should start looking? Navy isn't exactly my world."

  "Well, if it's local to the Jovian, don't expect the locals to sell them out to you," Sparrow warns me with a sympathetic frown.

  I blink a few times. "Really? They'd let con artists walk free?"

  Lucy reaches out and pats my hand. "They'd back a local over a Luna, and former cop besides."

  Ouch. "Fine, well, can't do anything about that," I say, steepling my fingers.

  Lucy just snorts. "You're thinking like a cop. Think like a criminal," she says, tapping her nose. "If you can't get the connections to open the front door, get the backdoor in."

  I give her a smile in return. "Huh. You're pretty good at thinking like a criminal, Lucy."

  She just grins and raises an eyebrow. "Woman's gotta eat. I wasn't Navy my whole life," she adds.

  "And I'm not a cop for all of mine," I say, tasting a spoonful. There are spices I don't even recognize in here. "Well, in this case, I better think like the victim. Like a sailor."

  Lucy cackles at that. "Yeah? Gonna get drunk and fight someone? Or get an STI from an unlicensed brothel?"

  Sparrow gives her mother a roll of the eyes, but I just laugh with her. "Neither Lucy. I'm going to open a bank account with shady digital credit-union and start a fresh dating profile."

  About an hour later, after doing the dishes and working up a profile, I finally finish the digitalwork to open a new bank account. I'm so focused on this I jump in surprise when Sparrow flops down on the crash-couch with me. "Any luck with the scam, Melody?"

  I submit the application and close out my overlay, the silver fading to show me her smiling face and brown eyes. "Nah, but I'm having luck finding scammers," I tease.

  Sparrow snorts and brushes her blue bangs aside. "The right ones?"

  I shrug. "Hard to tell. There seem to be dozens crawling out of the woodwork, trying to get into my bank account. And hundreds trying to crawl into my pants," I say, pulling up some of the messages and flicking them onto the screen on the wall.

  We read a few of them, laugh at some others, and judge the genital pics with ruthless criticisms. "Well, I hate to say it, but Argus station is a Naval station. Bit of a gender imbalance," Sparrow points out.

  I snort, flipping through a few more messages. "Well, nice to know I have options. Terrible options, but options all the same," I say, lifting an eyebrow at one picture.

  She giggles. "Yeah, trust me, it gets old fast. There's also a reason mom chose living by the recyclers; it's the opposite side from the bars and clubs that the sailors favor."

  I flick the screen off. Enough schlong. "I thought your dad wooed her with his classic jazz at one of those clubs, back in the day."

  She gets quiet, leaning against me. "Yeah, I think that's kinda the point."

  I open my mouth, before I pause and close it. "Point taken. In any event, I'm disappointed so far. Nothing that looks like legit catfishing. Just ads for 'enlargement' nanos, fractional ownership scams, and a few account-cloning trojans."

  I feel her shrug next to me. "Well, what's the plan?"

  I shrug right back. "Wait for the right sort of contact, see if I can slip a tag into one of the transfers, then set the sniffers loose. If I can get their profile, follow the trail. Hopefully, get enough evidence to prove the fraud. Hope that whatever bank will freeze their account and dispense the funds back to the victims," I say, reaching out to put an arm around her.

  "Sounds like a long shot," she murmurs.

  I let my hand stroke down her arm. "More than a bit of one. But then, even if I can't get the funds, if I get the profile and avatar ID to the client, I'm hoping that will at least prove to Jax that my skill as a private investigator isn't... oh wait..."

  A message blooms in silver in my vision, like a drop on a pond. The contents are flagged as an official Code Enforcement inquiry. A criminal inquiry. The hair rises on my arms.

  "Melody? What's wrong?" Sparrow asks, leaning forward and looking concerned.

  I swallow hard, opening the message and reading the text. "It's a criminal inquiry and request for admissions," I say softly, eyes wide and heart hammering in my ears.

  "What?" Sparrow's eyes bulge. "Holy crap. About Europa and the mining station? Or... about you not returning me to custody?" She gulps. "Are they going to arrest you?"

  I let my eyes scan the language. Pursuant to Code 2831.1(c) and (e), demand is made for a sworn statement of admissions within three business days as to... "It's about Brent. It's a demand for a witness statement." I take a deep breath, sitting back and trying to still my racing heartbeat. "It's a murder investigation."