Читать книгу Seattle after Midnight - C.J. Carmichael - Страница 10

PIERCE’S OFFICE space consisted of three interconnected rooms. One was his, another was shared by Jake Jeffrey and Will Livingstone and the third was for storage and reference materials. He had a computer with Internet access set up in there that he and his staff all shared.

The receptionist, Robin Housley, sat in the crossroads of the three offices. She had a computer that was supposed to be used to keep track of appointments and addresses and the bookkeeping records. Unfortunately Robin had no experience with even the most basic of computer accounting packages. She kept a manual ledger and was forever scribbling numbers on odd scraps of paper, which she stuck to the computer monitor. At least it was useful for something.

When she’d applied for the job of receptionist at Harding Investigations she’d stood in front of his desk and said, “I’m forty-seven and completely untrained for any type of job. My husband left me five days ago and I have an autistic child to provide for.”

It was quite the job résumé. He’d never heard another like it.

Unless it was Jake’s, the kid he’d hired as a general gofer and legman who came to him initially with his ankle in a cast. Or Will Livingstone, who’d been “retired” from his job with a bigger agency, but who couldn’t afford to stop working just because he was over sixty.

When he’d started his agency after Cass’s death, Pierce hadn’t intended to have one employee, let alone a staff. The point of leaving police work had been to work alone.

But his business had grown so quickly—mostly thanks to references from the cops he used to work with—that he’d been forced to hire. Now Pierce was happiest when his employees were doing the jobs he’d employed them to do without asking any questions or needing any help. That wasn’t often.

And then there was the cat.

Entering his office now, Pierce could see her curled in the top drawer of his filing cabinet. She’d claimed the space the first day she’d shown up, mewing at his door. He’d given her to Robin, instructing her to get rid of the damn pest.

An hour later, he’d spotted the stray drinking milk from his coffee mug. “What’s this cat still doing here?” he’d demanded of Robin.

“Ask her,” Robin had shrugged. “She won’t talk to me.”

And, though she never did talk to Pierce, either, she did seem to like him best, sleeping in his office, curling up on his lap whenever he sat still for more than five minutes, mewing when he first came in for the day.

She did that now, standing up, arching her back, stretching out her front paws.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered back at her, heading straight for his desk. Robin was on his heels.

“Do you have the time sheets from last week for me yet?”

“I do.” From his briefcase he pulled out the paperwork he’d finished earlier, knowing Robin would be drafting the invoices this afternoon. There would be errors, and he’d have to correct them, but that was the way things went around here.

Robin took the information from him, handing him a cup of coffee in exchange. When she’d first started, he’d told her she didn’t need to do that, wait on him like some kind of servant. But making coffee was the one thing she was really good at and so he hadn’t tried too hard to dissuade her.

“Thanks.” He took his first sip, only then feeling that he might be able to get through the rest of this day after all.

“You have a three o’clock appointment,” Robin told him. “A new client.”

He frowned. With around-the-clock surveillance on the Calder case right now, everyone was pretty busy. And he’d been planning to spend his afternoon in the courthouse, digging through land files for one of his lawyer clients.

“Hard to say over the phone, but she sounded young. And sexy.”

He raised his eyebrows at Robin, not changing his expression in any other way.

“I’ll start a file for her. Leave it on your desk.” Robin left his office, not bothering to close the door, which was just as well, since she was typically in and out so often there was little point in erecting a barrier between them.

He’d assign Jake the courtroom job, he decided, reaching for the phone.

An hour later, Georgia Lamont swept into his office in a red leather jacket, well-fitted jeans, and high-heeled boots.

“Told you she was sexy,” Robin hissed at him, just before she admitted the woman into his office. “And she brought you a flower!”

GEORGIA FELT some trepidation as the middle-aged receptionist closed the door behind her. She set the rose on Pierce’s desk, then sat, uninvited, in the chair obviously meant for clients.

She’d never hired an investigator before. And, though they’d shared a coffee, Pierce looked at her with all the warmth of a perfect stranger.

As their gazes met and held, she had the urge to run out of the room. What was she doing here? She’d been given a rose—how threatening was that? Oh, sure she’d been startled at first. But she wasn’t really scared of the poor soul who had taken the time to leave her what he probably thought was a nice surprise.

She felt herself blush as she acknowledged the real reason she’d made this appointment. To see Pierce again.

She felt suddenly sure that he knew exactly why she was here and why she’d dressed the way she had—in the sexiest outfit she owned.

Without speaking, he picked up the rose and the note that she’d set down with it. While he studied the short message, she glanced around his office. It was a modern, utilitarian space, with taupe carpeting and natural, light maple furniture. In the corner, a well-worn leather chair looked like a good spot to sit and read.

Framed on the off-white walls was his state license. His bookshelves were crammed, mostly with phone books from various American cities and a few Canadian ones besides.

“I didn’t expect you to have a receptionist.” This was a real business. She’d pictured him on his own, in a dusty, paper-strewn room with a window-fronted door. He should have had his feet up on his desk when she’d entered. And a cigarette in his mouth.

That’s what she got for watching too many movies. Preconceptions, of the extremely romantic sort.

“When did you get this?”

Pierce looked grouchy. Or maybe he was just tired. They’d been up late last night and he probably hadn’t had the luxury of sleeping until early afternoon as she had.

“I found it on my porch this afternoon. I was stepping out for groceries.” Which she still had to do on her way home from this meeting.

“I heard the song you played for me last night… Do you know which song he meant?”

“As usual, I played several requests. Including one for Jack.”

“You still think the roses are coming from him?”

“Doesn’t that seem most likely?”

He ignored her, as he focused on the next part of the message. “This stuff about watching you…” He lifted his head again. “Can’t say I like the sound of that.”

“No.”

“Have you noticed anyone hanging around your home? Tailing you in your car?”

“Not at all. But he must have followed me home last night.”

“Possibly. Or he already knew where you lived from trailing you on a different night.”

“Most stalkers don’t turn out to be violent,” she said, more to convince herself than Pierce.

“Maybe so. But you really should call the police just in case. And install a security system in your home. Unless you already have one?”

She shook her head.

Pierce opened a file labeled with her name and started writing on the first page. Then he jotted a note on a pad by his phone. “I’ll get back to you.”

“On the security system?”

“Yeah. I might be able to pick up something wholesale.” He focused his dark eyes on her. “A good security system, a little extra caution on your part and a precautionary phone call to the police should be enough for now. Unless you want me to put some time into tracking this guy down?”

“Oh, no. That’s not necessary. I just wanted your opinion. About whether this was something to be worried about. I’m willing to pay for your time, of course.”

For the first time a smile crept up one side of his mouth. “I’m not going to charge you for advising you to be careful. As for the security system, I don’t recommend anything fancy, just an alarm so you’ll know if someone tries to tamper with your windows or doors. Usually the sound of the buzzer is enough to frighten an intruder away. Do your neighbors live close?”

She thought of Fred, only a wall away. “Oh, definitely.”

“Good, then I think that’s all you need.”

“And the cost of the security system?”

“I’m not sure, but the parts are not expensive. Especially when you consider the value of your own peace of mind.”

He capped his pen and set it on the desk. Closed her file. But not, she noticed, before inserting the two notes she’d given him earlier.

“What about installation?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Given his cool demeanor, she was surprised by the offer. “I can’t let you do that.”

“Why not?”

Wasn’t it obvious? “You’re running a business. You can’t give your services away for free.”

“Let me worry about my business. I haven’t missed a payroll yet.”

She heard the tinge of irony in his tone and guessed his business was actually doing very well. A fact supported by the clean, polished look of his offices.

“It just seems odd you would do this favor for someone you only met last night.”

“Actually, Georgia, I met you more than a month ago. It’s you who only met me last night. Let’s just say I want to ensure the continued success of Seattle after Midnight.”

WITH A PROMISE to stop by later that evening to install the security system, Pierce walked Georgia to the door, past Robin who didn’t even try to pretend she wasn’t interested in their conversation.

As soon as Georgia was gone, he handed Robin the file. “Put this away, please.”

Robin took a peek inside. “She didn’t sign the contract. Did you get a retainer?”

“I did not,” he said in a tone meant to discourage further questions.

“I see. She’s a friend, then.”

“She isn’t a friend.”

“An admirer?”

“Robin…”

“Would you like me to put your rose in a vase?”

He retreated behind his office door, closing it firmly between them.

GEORGIA STOPPED at the IGA to pick up her groceries, then went home to cook. She was relieved to find no roses waiting for her when she returned and gave herself over to the double pleasure of cooking and listening to Vivaldi for a change.

She was spooning chicken cacciatore—her mother’s recipe—into individual serving containers when her doorbell rang. She wiped her hands on a towel then went to see who was there.

Pierce stood on her welcome mat, a large cardboard box in hand.

Her heart thumped at the sight of him. He was dressed as he’d been in the office that day, in jeans and a black shirt made out of cotton so fine it looked as soft as silk. He wiped his feet on the mat several times before stepping inside. It wasn’t raining, but the evening sky was dreary.

“I didn’t expect you so soon.” She sounded breathless, not at all like herself. But Pierce didn’t seem to notice—not her voice or anything else about her, either.

He settled into work right away, and after watching him for a while, she returned to the kitchen. She checked on the beef stew simmering on the stove, then made a batch of cheese biscuits. When those were ready, she labeled several packages for Fred and placed them in a cardboard box.

Pierce was in the entry, installing a motion detector in the corner of the hall.

“I’m going to take this over to my next-door neighbor, Fred.”

“I saw him on the porch when I came in. Seems like the kind of guy who likes to keep an eye on things.”

“That’s Fred all right.” He’d been like a mother hen since she’d moved in. Warning her about the dangers of the big city and the need for a pretty, young woman to be careful. Meanwhile, he went to sleep with his front door unlocked at night.

Chuckling to herself, Georgia stepped over the hedge and found Fred on the porch, as if he were waiting for her.

“Thought I smelled something cooking over there.” He gave her a smile and a wink. “What did you make this week, Georgie-girl?”

“Let’s go inside and I’ll show you.”

She spent the better part of an hour talking to Fred, who insisted she share half a beer with him while he ate her stew. She stored the casseroles in his freezer and made him promise he’d eat one every night.

“Toast and cereal are fine for breakfast and lunch, but you need at least one real meal every day.”

He patted her hand. “You sound like my daughter.”

She knew Fred’s daughter could only afford to visit once every three or four years. She usually preferred to visit Seattle in the summer. Which meant Fred spent every Christmas alone. Maybe next year, she’d invite him to South Dakota with her.

“Did the show go well last night?” Fred asked, as she was preparing to leave.

“Pretty good, thanks.”

“I’m sorry I missed it.”

“That’s okay.” Fred was not a night owl, but it was sweet the way he always enquired about her show.

She left his house, hopped the hedge, then bounded up the shallow steps of her own porch. The second she opened her front door an obnoxious, unrelenting screeching filled the air.

Georgia shrieked, then covered her ears. Pierce galloped down the stairs, shot her a look of disbelief, then rounded the corner toward the back door where he’d installed the main control panel.

A moment later, Fred limped over, arriving on her porch just as Pierce managed to disable the alarm.

“I guess it works,” she said sheepishly to Pierce when he returned.

“I’d say so.” Pierce offered a hand to her neighbor and the two men chatted about the system for a few minutes. Fred seemed pleased that Georgia was taking security seriously.

“This neighborhood isn’t as safe as it used to be. Why just the other day I saw a strange man sitting in a car across the street. Seemed like he was casing the block, if you ask me.”

“Oh?” Pierce looked interested. “Can you give me a description of this guy?”

“Would if I could, but he was wearing a baseball cap and my eyes aren’t as good as they used to be. I tried to run outside to get his license number but my knees were acting up real bad that day.”

“Do you remember which day this was?” Pierce asked.

Fred traced back over the past week and finally settled on a day just before the first rose had been delivered.

“If you happen to notice him again, I’d be glad if you’d let me know.” Pierce gave Fred one of his business cards. “Now, let me show you both how this new security system works.”

Pierce led Georgia and Fred to the kitchen where the control panel had been installed next to the rear entrance. He explained how to activate the system and how to change the four-number code.

“Keep this portable unit by the front door,” he told Georgia, handing her a plastic box about the size of a fat TV remote control. “As long as you punch in your code within thirty seconds of opening the front door, the alarm won’t go off.”

Later, once Fred had returned home, he nodded at Georgia. “Your neighbor made it over here pretty quick for an old guy.”

“Fred’s one of the good ones.” She brushed a dab of flour from her jeans. If only she’d had time to change before Pierce showed up on her doorstep. “What do you think about that man he saw on the street?”

“Could be your guy. Can’t say for sure, of course. I hope Fred will call me if he spots him again.”

“I’m sure he will. Fred takes it personally if anything bad happens on the block.”

“I’m glad he watches out for you.”

They ran out of things to say at the same time. After an awkward pause, Pierce busied himself looking everywhere but at her. He gathered his tools and placed them in the cardboard box he’d brought with him. Georgia readied her checkbook, but as he’d already indicated, Pierce let her reimburse him for the cost of materials only, nothing for his time.

“You’ll let me repay you with dinner, at least?”

“That’s not necessary.”

Though she’d been expecting the rejection, she still felt hurt. If he liked her enough to install the security system for no charge, why not stay for dinner, too?

She could guess the answer. Pierce had connected to the radio Georgia, but not the real-life version.

She must have disappointed him by not living up to her airwave image. Not even the red leather coat and the fashion boots she’d been wearing that afternoon in his office had been enough to heat up her small-town-girl image.

“At least take something with you. You can microwave it at home.” She offered him the choice of the chicken or the beef and was rewarded with a grin.

“I feel like I’m on an airplane.”

“Trust me, my mother’s recipes are nothing like the food you get on an airplane.”

He held up one hand. “No insult intended.”

She ended up giving him plastic containers of both, as well as a bag containing a half-dozen biscuits. At the door he said, “I’m not sure I didn’t get the best deal.”

“I’m sure you didn’t. Thank you.” On her salary she could never have afforded the regular cost of a security system.

“The system only works if you activate it.” When she didn’t reply, he added, “You will activate it, right? Whenever you’re home and especially at night.”

“Of course.”

He looked at her doubtfully, then finally headed for his car. She watched him go with regret. This was it. She really wouldn’t see him again. She went back inside to clean the kitchen after her marathon cooking session. Five minutes hadn’t passed when she heard something in the hall.

She lifted her head and listened intently. A second later, she heard another creak. Her spine tingled. She tensed, grabbed the handle of her cast-iron frying pan, then whirled around.

Pierce put his hands up to shield his face.

She screamed. “What are you doing?”

“I had a feeling you’d forget to activate the alarm.”

“I completely forgot.” She’d have to get used to a new routine.

“I went to a lot of work to wire in that system. Don’t you think you could humor me and use the thing? Or at least lock the damn door?”

“I’m sorry.” Though they’d never locked their house on the farm, since she’d lived alone she’d been conscientious about doing so. Why she’d forgotten today, she couldn’t explain.

“I did have another reason for coming back.” Pierce’s harsh tone softened as he held up the bag of food she’d given to him. “I’ve changed my mind about dinner. If you’re still willing, I’d be glad to share this with you.”