C.J. Carmichael - Seattle after Midnight

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.”