I opened the envelope and pulled out a bunch of folders crammed with photographs and handwritten pages.

"She's got a condensed version for you clipped to the top folder," Diesel said. "Got everything prioritized. Says you better hustle because Valentine's Day is coming up fast."

"And?"

"Personally, I don't get turned on by Valentine's Day, with the sappy cards and creepy cupids and the hearts-and-flowers routine. But Annie is to Valentine's Day what Santa Claus is to Christmas. She makes it happen. Of course, Annie operates on a smaller scale. It's not like she's got ten thousand elves working for her."

Diesel was a really sexy-looking guy, but I thought he might be one step away from permanent residence at the funny farm. "I still don't get my role in this."

"I just handed you five open files. It's up to you to make sure those five people have a good Valentine's Day."

Oh boy.

"Listen, I know it's lame," Diesel said, "but I'm stuck with it. And now you're stuck with it. And I'm going to have a power shortage if I don't get breakfast. So find me a diner. Then I'm going to do my thing and look for Bernie, and you're going to do your thing and work your way down Annie's list."

I clipped a leash onto Bob's collar and the three of us walked down the stairs and out to my car. I was driving a yellow Ford Escape that was good for hauling felons and Bob dogs.

"Does Bob go everywhere?" Diesel wanted to know.

"Pretty much. If I leave him at home, he gets lonely and eats the furniture."

Forty minutes later, Diesel was finishing up a mountain of scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes, home fries, and sourdough toast with jam… all smothered in maple syrup.

I'd ordered a similar breakfast but had to give up about a third of the way through. I pushed my plate away and asked that the food be put in a to-go box.