The P.I. Contest. C.J. Carmichael

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СКАЧАТЬ front page of the Daily News. So they were doing good work. Important work.

      When Jay made his way up to ground level, he was greeted with a gray sky. Two-day-old snow was now sludge in the gutters. March wasn’t the city’s prettiest month, but he supposed April would be here before he knew it.

      February had certainly passed quickly enough. Looking back now, the days were a blur of sadness and grief and endless, unhappy chores. He’d had to sublet Tracy’s apartment, sell her furniture and settle her financial affairs. Then there’d been the business of moving Eric to his apartment and trying to make the kid feel at home.

      Jay crossed the street and hurried along West Seventy-ninth Street until he came to the old brownstone where Fox & Fisher was located. A half flight of stairs led to the main door and a small vestibule with mailboxes and a door leading off to a hallway and more stairs.

      Nathan went up another story and found yet another hallway. The door on the right had a new copper nameplate etched with The Fox & Fisher Detective Agency.

      He took a deep breath, as if he was about to plunge into a cold lake, then opened the door.

      A pretty brunette sat behind a modern, slate-gray desk. She smiled, waved him inside, then continued with the conversation she was having on the phone.

      He glanced around. The all-business, ultramodern decor was softened by the presence of lots of green, healthy plants. An inviting array of magazines were spread out on a coffee table near a sofa and two armchairs. There was a bowl of jelly beans there, too.

      Jay sat in one of the chairs—made of molded metal, yet surprisingly comfortable—and reached for the candies.

      He looked up when the door opened again—this time admitting a tall woman about his age, dressed in a cream-colored trench coat. From this angle, all he could see was long, reddish-blond hair and a thin, elegant body.

      With businesslike strides, she approached the receptionist and placed a hand on her desk.

      “I’m here to see Lindsay Fox.”

      Her voice was deep and sexy and he gave the woman a second glance. If this was an example of the kind of clients they had at Fox & Fisher, then he was all in.

      The receptionist—Nadine Kimble, according to the nameplate he’d just noticed beside a small flowering plant—held up a hand for the woman to wait, then finally ended her call with a timid promise to phone back at the first chance. She set down the phone, then said, “I’ll call Lindsay for you, but would you please wait a minute? The gentleman was here first.”

      The redhead turned to face him, then. “Sorry. I didn’t see you.” Her gaze swept over him with almost professional efficiency.

      He was struck by how pretty she was. She reminded him, superficially, of Nicole Kidman, except that her skin wasn’t pale porcelain like the actor’s but flooded with freckles. The cute splotches of pigment only made her look more beautiful.

      “Mr. Savage?”

      He blinked as he realized the receptionist was trying to get his attention. “Yes.”

      “Nathan is waiting for you. I’m sorry I didn’t greet you when you came in, but I was talking to my mother and if I’d interrupted her, well, let’s just say it’s never a good idea.”

      He immediately decided he loved this receptionist.

      “Just take that door to the left, Mr. Savage. And good luck.”

      “HE LOOKS LIKE a football player,” Kate said. She ignored the chair that Lindsay had invited her to sit in and went, instead, to check out the view from the window, which happened to be of a brick wall.

      “Quarterback or lineman?”

      “What?” Kate supposed the view didn’t matter. She wouldn’t be in the office much, anyway. She turned back to survey the decor, which she approved of. Modern, calming and most of all…practical. When it came to work, she didn’t like to waste time and that was the message behind all this functional metal and glass furniture.

      “Do you think Jay Savage looks like a quarterback or a lineman?”

      Lindsay seemed amused. Kate was not. She hadn’t expected there would be competition for this job. When she’d seen that man in the waiting room, she’d assumed he must be a client.

      A very distinguished-looking client, with magnetic blue eyes and a commanding presence. “How should I know? He’s big, all right. He’d never blend into a crowd on surveillance. A good investigator needs to blend in.”

      Lindsay didn’t look convinced. “You’re quite a bit taller than average, too, you know. And redheads always stand out in a crowd.”

      Kate was about to argue that she knew how to appear shorter, but realized how ridiculous that would sound. The truth was, she felt nervous.

      Until ten minutes ago, she’d assumed the job was hers for the asking, that this “interview” was simply a formality. Just her luck that Nathan had offered the job to his buddy the same night she’d contacted Lindsay.

      If only she’d phoned Lindsay sooner.

      Jay Savage may not have her qualifications, but he wasn’t the sort of man you could easily write off. He had an air of confidence and competence about him. He seemed like someone who was used to being in a situation of authority. A man who could do pretty much anything he put his mind to.

      “You say he’s a pilot? Is he even qualified for this job?”

      “Well, he’s a friend of Nathan’s, and Nathan promised him an interview before I found out you were available, so we’re kind of stuck having to consider him for the position.” Lindsay passed her a file of case reports.

      Kate leafed through them, the printed words a blur. “What’s this?”

      “I wanted to give you a flavor of the kind of work we do here at Fox & Fisher.”

      “I’ve read about two of your cases in the paper,” Kate reminded her. In one instance, Lindsay had managed to locate a child rapist from the FBI’s most wanted list. In the other, more recent case, she and Nathan had prevented a big-time property developer from murdering his wife. “Pretty exciting stuff.”

      “Believe me, those cases aren’t typical of our usual clientele. You won’t need to carry a gun—neither Nathan nor I do. The beauty of this job, though, is that unlike the police department, we don’t have to take every case that comes our way. We can pick and choose.”

      “Tell me more.”

      “Why don’t I just go through our list of open cases? Our work load right now is pretty typical.” Lindsay clicked on a file on her computer, then twisted the screen so Kate could see, too. The jobs were mostly what Kate had expected. Locating missing persons, insurance fraud, background checks.

      “You can set your own hours,” Lindsay said, adding with a grin, “I can’t remember the last time I had to work the midnight shift. Plus, you’ll never see a doughnut in our office. Multigrain bagels with light cream cheese is Nathan’s idea of a treat.” She wrinkled her nose.

      Kate СКАЧАТЬ