The problem was that personal protection is an intimate community. Most work comes from referrals, either via former, satisfied, clients or from other agencies. Since we were a new firm we didn't have any former clients, and the rumor was that Elliot Trent had pretty much blacklisted us from the start, so no firms, from Sentinel on down, were giving us referrals.

I used my elbow to prop myself up and looked at Natalie, who had now turned her scowl to the window that looked out onto Dale's backyard. Outside, a light sprinkling of snow was twirling down onto the lawn. Dale, in the other chair, was looking at me like a disapproving parent. I've actually known Dale longer than I've known Natalie – he and I were in the Army together on a couple of the same details. He is, without a doubt, the nicest person I know, genuinely kind.

As a result, his disapproving look is pretty darn devastating.

"You know what I mean," I said to Natalie.

"I don't appreciate being compared to my father."

"That's not what I was doing, Nat."

She looked back at me, and her green eyes lost their focus briefly in their contemplation. Natalie is just shy of my age, tall and fine-boned, with red hair that she'd recently had cut into a bob. The new haircut showed off her facial features, the line of her neck and jaw. While the four of us in KTMH – Natalie Trent, Dale Matsui, Corry Herrera, and I – are equals, there is a hierarchy when we're at work, and Natalie is my strong second-in-command. She's as good as I am at the job, if not better.

"We're living on credit right now, you are aware of that, aren't you?" she asked.