C.J. Carmichael - Seattle after Midnight

This man was strong, capable, attractive…in a craggy sort of way. But it was the hint of sadness in the tired lines that bracketed his mouth that tugged at her heart.

In him she saw a different sadness than the one she’d sensed in Jack. A wiser, deeper, more pervasive sort of sadness.

“Is something wrong, Georgia?”

He hadn’t called her Ms. Lamont this time, she noticed. “I was just wondering…I don’t mean to be forward, this is strictly a friendly offer. But could I buy you a cup of coffee? For coming to my aid and everything? The coffee shop next door is open twenty-four hours.”

Pierce Harding looked surprised at first, which of course he would be. Women weren’t supposed to do things like invite strange men for coffee. Especially men who stepped out of dark shadows at the suspiciously right moment.

But no way could this man be the same guy who’d called her station and left her the rose. Every instinct Georgia possessed told her that was impossible.

“I’d be glad to join you for a coffee.” He glanced across the parking lot to the café she’d indicated. “Want to make a run for it?”

“Why not? We’re already soaked as it is.”

He held out his hand and she didn’t hesitate to take it. If all went well, soon she’d know much more about this man than just his name. And if things clicked between them, she might even end up with a date.

GEORGIA TOOK her bottle of orange juice and carrot muffin to a booth in the far corner. Pierce followed with his mug of coffee.

At the till, he’d tried to pay but she’d insisted she owed him.

For what, he wasn’t sure. Saving her from a thorny rose?

He slid onto the bench seat across from her, watching covertly as she unscrewed the lid on the bottle of juice, then inserted two skinny straws. He couldn’t believe he was really sitting here, with Georgia from KXPG, watching her sipping juice and breaking away pieces of her super-size muffin to pop into her mouth. Her hair hung in damp curls around a heart-shaped face.

Sweet, he thought. She looks like a really sweet person. Not exactly the image he’d attributed to her from listening to her show. But captivating none the less.

“I’m always starving after a show. I think it’s the crash after my adrenaline rush, you know?”

He nodded, fascinated suddenly by her eyes, which were open and honest, a vibrant blue. Not what he’d imagined, at all.

“Where are you from?”

“Seattle?” She offered hesitantly.

“With that accent? No way.” Funny how her slight twang didn’t come across on her radio program.

“You’re right.” She gave a resigned shrug of her shoulders. “I grew up on a farm in South Dakota. I went to college in Minnesota, then got my first job at an oldies station in Brookings. From there I moved to classic rock in Sioux Falls.”

“How did you end up in Seattle?”

“Pure luck. The program director for KXPG happened to stop at a motel in Sioux Falls while on vacation with his kids last August. I guess his wife had just left him and he and the kids had taken off on an impromptu road trip. Anyway, the night they were in Sioux Falls, his youngest turned sick with the flu. Mark said listening to my program helped both of them get through that night. The very next day I had a job offer.”

“I’m not surprised it only took one show to impress him.”

“Well, thanks. But what about you? Pierce. That’s an unusual name. Where did it come from?”

“God only knows. Maybe the doctor who delivered me?” He definitely could not imagine his mother pouring over baby name books, the way Cass had done. And Cass hadn’t even been pregnant. Just dreaming…

The memory pricked at his old stockpile of regrets and Pierce put his hand to his temple.

From across the table, Georgia clearly waited for more details about his life. She was probably curious about all the usual things. Where he’d grown up, gone to school, all that crap. In the end, though, she asked just one question.

“Were you a cop before you became an investigator?”

Now that was a perceptive question. Not that he should be surprised to find Georgia Lamont perceptive. Wasn’t that the very quality that drew him to her show every evening?

Georgia gave the impression that she understood all the worst pain and sorrow that could befall a human being. And yet, now that he’d met her, he’d guess that she’d experienced very little, or none, of the seamier side of life herself.

Likable, honest, wholesome…those were the adjectives that summed up the real Georgia Lamont. So how did she reach out to the lonely and disenfranchised the way she did? Who was that worldly, sultry enchantress she projected on air?

“I was.” His days as a cop seemed like a lifetime ago. “But I started my own business a couple of years ago. Mostly, it’s not a bad way to earn a living.”

“Tell me about some of your cases.”

“I don’t solve a murder every week,” he warned her, having come across this misconception more than a few times. “In fact, I don’t even own a gun. A lot of my work involves tracking witnesses, locating debtors, uncovering insurance fraud, background checks.”

“I always imagine private investigators following cheating spouses around. Do you handle those sorts of cases, too?”

“That’s not my favorite line of work. But occasionally I take on something like that.”

“Is that what you were doing tonight?”

He paused, then admitted as much with a nod. “My client had to go out of town on business. He was worried his wife was planning to meet with another man while he was gone.”

“And was he right?”

“I’m not sure. His wife took off for a hotel as soon as he left. She’s still there now. But as far as I can tell, she’s alone in that room. I figure her lover must have stood her up.”

“But then why not return home?”

“Exactly.”

“Hmm. That’s an interesting puzzle.” Georgia put one elbow on the table, then rested her chin in her hand. “Maybe she’s a spy. Maybe she’s planning to sell corporate secrets to someone else at the hotel.”

He tried to picture well-dressed, sophisticated Jodi Calder as a spy. Couldn’t do it.

“Tell me the truth,” Georgia asked suddenly. “Did you really just happen to be driving by when you heard me scream?”

Oh, hell. He wished he could say he had. He let himself study her for a few moments, as he admitted to himself that his preoccupation with her definitely had a sexual edge. She hadn’t said anything when he’d suggested the rose had come from a boyfriend, but he guessed that she was currently available. She didn’t wear a ring on her fourth finger of her left hand, at least.

“Sorta. Not really.”

She waited and he felt even more of a fool. He was going to sound like a groupie, as bad as that fellow who’d left the rose on her car.

“I had just finished my surveillance shift on that case I was telling you about. I’d been listening to your show and so I knew it was over and that you’d be leaving the building soon. The KXPG office building is right on my way home. When I reached it—I stopped. I can’t explain why I did that. I don’t make a habit of things like this….”

“It’s okay.” She seemed amused, not annoyed or put out by his explanation.

“I must sound like an idiot.”

“Not at all. It’s a compliment, isn’t it? That you liked my show enough to wonder about me.”

“You must get guys bugging you all the time.”

“It is an occupational hazard,” she admitted. “Usually they stick to phone calls though.”

He wished this latest creep had done the same. Only then, he would never have met Georgia. “Would you mind if I took another look at the note that was attached to the rose?”