Sometimes I wonder if they even do a thorough investigation before they give me a case. Zooming into the photo. Rotating the photo around. The department says this case is unsolvable, one of those "locked-room" cases with no way in or out. Well besides the front door. The door was locked when the victim was killed.

This really isn't that hard to solve.

There. Looking at chipped paint behind a bookcase. Did someone slide it? Zooming in closer. A potential gap? Well there is their solution, taking my stylus and circling the area, there is your point of entrance right there. That wasn't so difficult and they didn't need me to solve that if they had taken the time to properly check the room.

Opening my emails. Let's see. Replying to the Department Director. I'll send the edited photo as an attachment. It's best that I remain cordial about this, despite wanting to give into my ego and telling them they wasted my time.

There we go. That’s resolved. They don’t need me to investigate people in an apartment complex. I am not exactly sure why some departments think they need to hire me for cases that require a small amount of deductive reasoning. What’s next? Looking at my desktop at what work I have left. I shouldn’t complain too much, it’s still money and employment.

The hotel door opens. Who - ah it’s only Wolf, “Working hard?” she asks.

“Does solving four cases in a row count as working hard?” I ask her.

Wolf laughs briefly, “Were they too easy for you?”

“Let’s just say that they didn’t need a “respectable genius” private detective to solve them,"

“I am sorry,” Wolf smiles, she sits on the edge of the couch. I’ve really only known her as the peak of professional. She usually wears well fitted suits, though her tennis shoes seem to betray her professional exterior, she keeps her long, black hair up in tight ponytails. She’s not the one who funnels my caseload, so I don’t see why she would apologize to me.

“You’re not the one offering me jobs,” I tell her.

“Speaking of your Father,” she notices me giving her a look, she clears her throat, “Right. Um. Well, money has been wired into your account.”

I don’t need to be told this. I already know. I got the text message about it while she was on the phone in the other room. Wolf pauses, “Do you have any more cases?”

“I have a few cases left,” none of them too exciting to be honest. I am sure if anyone heard my actual thoughts about detective work, they would criticize me for “not taking this seriously”. I am not looking for anything to tickle my sense of justice or to stick it to those criminals. I prefer figuring out the reasons why. Why someone goes to the lengths they do and the method they choose. We haven’t had a really puzzling case in a long while, yet my fatherly privately works through a network of closed cases.

Wolf crosses her legs, “Hey.” she speaks up.

I watch her, “Yes.”

“Have you ever,” she pauses, “Considered going out for a bit. Maybe just around the block. You stay inside a hotel almost every day.”

Height of professional, so says the agency. She knows I can’t do that, right?

“That’s a joke?” I ask her.

Wolf inspects me, “I know your circumstances. But.” she pauses, “This.” she looks around briefly, even standing up to listen first, she silently walks to the front door of the hotel room, she says nothing. I can understand what she’s trying to convey. This isn’t my hometown, and no one knows me here.

We’re not even going by our given names. She figures we are relatively safe here then?

“What did he say?” I ask her.

“He said he trusts my judgement,” Wolf responds, walking away from the front door, “You cannot always want to stay in a hotel.” she pauses again, “in a town you’ve never been born in.”

“And I presume you’ll be providing me the security, if we went out?” I ask her with a smirk.

“You’re a very cautious person,” she means for my age.

“We know that we have to be,” I remind her.

“So, do you not trust my judgement?” she ask with a raised eyebrow.

“I am trying to determine your reasoning, before I trust your judgement on the matter,” I tell her.

Wolf laughs for a second. She sighs, “I just don’t want you to miss out on things. Sure, I am here for your protection, but that doesn’t mean I should treat you like a robot.”

“Some would argue that empathy of yours for a client would be troublesome and ineffective in your work,”

“Well, fire me then, if something comes of it,” Wolf shrug and smiles.

Perhaps she doesn’t have the best judgement. It wasn’t like I was going to tell her upfront that I don’t trust her judgement. But she sees some valuable importance in getting out of the hotel room. Very well, I guess.

“Fine, let’s see what comes of it,” I tell her.