The Hero Next Time: A Novel of the Terribly Acronymed Detective Club (Book 4)

Chapter Twenty-Six: Sunny, Monday

"I do," he said, taking it gratefully. "You don't know how much I need this. Thank you."

"It's black, I didn't know what you took."

"Black is perfect," he said, taking a sip and groaning in pleasure. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company first thing Monday morning?"

"I think I need a lawyer," Birinder replied.

Sunny nodded. "So, that's why you came to my law office, but unless you want to divorce your wife or plan a will, I'm not sure I'm the lawyer you need."

Birinder blinked in surprise. "Uh... no, it's neither of those things... Naira and I have only been married a year, why would I want to divorce her?"

Sunny shrugged. "Marriages have had much shorter life spans than yours."

Birinder nodded thoughtfully. "Can I tell you something?"

"What is it?" Sunny asked, feeling his heart speed up.

"I was married once before."

"Oh." He tried not to sound disappointed; he thought Birinder was going to confess to a crime.

"It was... a mistake," he said. "We weren't compatible. She was a cop, her hours were all over the place, and my parents didn't get on with her."

"Traditional, are they?" Sunny asked.

"It's not that they thought my wife shouldn't have a career," he said. "I mean, Naira is a real estate agent, same as me, and they're fine with it. I was just having a hard time, you know, worrying about her out there, and my parents absorbed my anxiety. It just wasn't a good fit."

"So, this previous wife of yours," Sunny ventured, "where is she now?"

Birinder shrugged. "As far as I know, she lives in New West, but across the bridge. She's still a cop; we meet yearly with our lawyers to work out alimony, and that was the last occupation she listed in her forms."

"Was she also Sikh?"

Birinder blinked in surprise. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, when you say she was a cop, I think white," Sunny said evasively. "It sounds a little racist, doesn't it, to assign professions to certain ethnicities."

Birinder nodded. "I don't blame you for assuming. No, she was Sikh. We met at Gurdwara."

"You mentioned on Saturday that meeting a woman at Gurdwara wasn't an option anymore. Is that why?"

"Well, yeah, I mean, divorce isn't easy. Her family still goes there, and for me to meet someone new there, that would be like a slap in the face, wouldn't it."

"Yeah, you're absolutely right. Is that why you don't go?"

Birinder shrugged. "I guess. Khalsa life isn't as important to me as it is to you, though."

Sunny had gathered that much from the man's passive aggressive comments in the past. "So, do you need representation in your dealings with... I'm sorry, what was your first wife's name?"

"You're not going to believe this," Birinder said, "but it's Naira."

Sunny pretended surprise. "Your first wife has the same name as your current wife?"

"Pure coincidence, I assure you," Birinder said, waving off his reaction. "No, the lawyer I retained for the divorce still represents me on that front."

"Then I'm at a loss, Mr. Sandhu. Why come to me?"

Birinder leaned in as if to confide in him, even though Sunny's office door was closed and no one outside would have heard anything. "I've had the police by my house late Saturday night, after you left."