by Julie Miller
Elise drank a long sip of iced tea through her straw and wished she’d opted for hot coffee so that the strong smell of brewed java could drown out the imagined scent of George Madigan that lingered in her nose. No matter. By sheer strength of will, she would override her hormones and emotions and concentrate on the job at hand. She needed nothing more, and she wanted nothing less. Right?
“Right.”
Popping a baby carrot into her mouth, Elise printed off the draft of the speech she’d typed for her boss and stood to pick up the papers from the printer on the credenza beneath the window. She swallowed the carrot and crunched her way through another before sliding the speech into the folder she’d prepared and carrying it into George’s office.
Elise studiously ignored the picture of George and his sister’s family behind his desk as she set the file on the blotter. But after seeing her just a few hours earlier, Annie Fensom’s wedding gown drew Elise’s eye. The CSI and George’s nephew, Nick Fensom, made a striking couple with their dark hair against the lacy white gown and gray tuxedoes adorned with bright red boutonnieres.
But it was the distinguished-looking man standing behind the groom and his mother that kept Elise’s attention. She’d walked by those pictures dozens of times every day for the past few months. How had she never noticed that before? She reached out and touched her fingertip to the glass over George Madigan’s face. “You’re smiling.”
Without even thinking, Elise smiled, too. The relaxed expression on George’s face was so compelling, so rare, that she wondered just what it would take to see that handsome grin again.
But just as quickly as the intriguing challenge registered, Elise pressed her lips into a frown. “Idiot.”
Would she never learn her lesson?
The telephone on George’s desk rang, startling her. A word cursing her own foolishness slipped out before she picked up the receiver. “Deputy Commissioner Madigan’s office,” she snapped.
“Elise?”
Every raw emotion and dangerous thought in Elise’s head short-circuited at the familiar tenor of the caller’s masculine voice. “Mr. Gallagher.”
“Really?” She heard a wry laugh. “You haven’t called me that since the first day you worked for me. Don’t tell me George or KCPD is insisting on that kind of formality.” Quinn Gallagher, a wealthy inventor and the CEO of Gallagher Security Systems, was teasing her. “You and I are old friends.”
Friends. Right. Her heart had been far too slow to understand that little distinction in their once close relationship. Funny how talking to the man she’d loved and lost could turn her light lunch into a rock at the pit of her stomach. Still, she’d moved on with her life. And, if nothing else, she prided herself on being the quintessential professional. “Hi, Quinn,” she answered with a rueful smile. “How are you?”
“Happier than I’ve been in a long time.”
“How’s Miranda?” she forced herself to ask.
“Still can’t get that woman to cook a decent meal. I thought when she got pregnant some kind of natural domestic instinct would kick in.” He sounded younger, energized, blissfully content, as he always did when he talked about his wife and daughter. “Fortunately, she knows all the best take-out places, and she and Fiona have been setting up picnics on the living room floor this past week.”
Any pangs of jealousy Elise felt were beaten back by the guilt of knowing she’d nearly cost her former boss this second chance at love and the family he was enjoying now. “Sounds like fun.”
“How are you?” Quinn asked.
“Loving my work,” she answered honestly. “And the house is halfway done. The kitchen and bathrooms have been redone and the exterior is all painted.”
“I know that house is your therapy, but I wish I could tear you away from it. Are you sure a raise wouldn’t convince you to come back to GSS?” His generous salary had enabled her to afford the extensive remodel in the first place. “I’m still having a hard time breaking in my new assistant. Working with you was so easy. I think you could read my mind. You spoiled me for anyone else.”
“You’re too kind, Quinn.” But their working relationship had never been the problem between them. “The commissioner’s out at a lunch meeting. May I take a message?”
Quinn’s teasing tone sobered. “This is a subject I’d rather discuss in person. Soon, if George has got a half hour for me in his schedule.”
Elise clicked the mouse on George’s desk and pulled up his appointment calendar on the computer screen. “What should I tell him it’s regarding?”
“Alexsandr Titov.”
Her legs turned to jelly at the unexpected answer, and Elise sank into the plush leather chair behind George’s desk. “Nikolai’s brother?”
“The same. Did you ever meet him?”
“Only over the phone.” Alexsandr had called her from Lukinburg, the night of Nikolai’s murder. What can you tell me about my brother’s death? Did your jealous husband do this to him? Apparently, he’d found her name on a hotel receipt in Nikolai’s bloody jacket pocket. For a moment, Elise couldn’t catch her breath. “It was a brief chat.”
And not a particularly friendly one.
Quinn continued, “Since you knew Nikolai, you may want to sit in on this meeting, too.”
“Me? Why?”
“Alexsandr is here in Kansas City, according to my sources. Staying in a hotel downtown near Embassy Row.”
Only a few miles from this very office. She had no husband. She’d had nothing to do with Nikolai’s death. Still, the news of Alexsandr Titov setting foot on Missouri soil felt like a threat. “Do you know why he’s here?”
Words like payback and revenge came to mind.
Quinn laughed, but there was no humor. “That’s the million-dollar question. Since Nikolai’s death, his younger brother, Alexsandr, has been rebuilding Titov Industrial. He’s had pretty good success selling military rifles and ammunition in the Far East. Kansas City is a big import/export area. He could be here legitimately, trying to expand his business.”
The words on the computer monitor had blurred. Elise blinked them back into focus and searched for a free block of time on George’s calendar. “Or he could be as big a criminal as Nikolai was.”
“Exactly why I want to give George and KCPD a heads-up. Since he handles equipment and munitions purchases for the department, I wanted to make sure he isn’t spending any money on a dummy corporation that’s laundering money or selling arms illegally the way his brother did. And...” Quinn paused again.
“What?”
“The deputy commissioner has a perfectly legitimate reason for investigating Titov Industrial as a potential resource. I want to know if Alexsandr’s visit has anything to do with Nikolai’s death.”
Guilt stabbed through Elise. “Your father-in-law killed him.”
“Vasily might have used his mob connections to eliminate Nikolai after he tried to kill my daughter and destroy GSS. But you and I both know that Nikolai’s hate ran pretty deep. He blamed me for his business going under and his son’s death. And he turned you into an unwitting mole.” Until she came to her senses and gave testimony to the police and FBI that helped get Nikolai deported back to Lukinburg...and a waiting assassin. “I don’t know if it’s the same for his younger brother or not. Like I said, he could be in the KC area for legitimate business reasons.”
She’d never met Nikolai’s younger brother, but if one Titov could break the law and take advantage of a heartsick woman to gain access to procedure codes and personnel files, it wasn’t a stretch of the imagination to believe another Titov would be willing to terrorize her or use her for some nefarious purpose.
Maybe he’d send twenty-three roses just like Nikolai had.
Or steal the key to a woman’s house.
Guilt wasn’t the only emotion churni
ng through Elise’s stomach now.
She pulled the receiver from her mouth to muffle her strangled gasp. Was Alexsandr plotting something to make her pay for his brother’s death? Or was this yet another creepy coincidence her suspicious imagination was turning into something more dangerous and disturbing than it really was?
“Elise?”
With too many questions and no answers, and no one to calm her fears, Elise went back to the one thing that had never failed her. Work. Tucking the receiver between her shoulder and ear, she typed Quinn’s name into the computer. “Would tomorrow morning work for you?”
“That’ll be fine. See you then.”
Elise replaced the receiver in the phone cradle, holding on until she heard the voices in the other room. She pushed the chair back from the desk and stood, but not before George Madigan filled the open doorway.
“What’s wrong?”
Stone-gray eyes locked on to hers, and Elise nearly answered the concern written there.
But the shrill voice of common sense interrupted before she gave in to temptation.
“It’s not as if I’m asking you to do this for a stranger.” The curvy blonde who made frequent appearances in the deputy commissioner’s office nudged George aside and walked into the room. She picked up a file folder from the desk and, after an exasperated sigh, fanned herself with it. “Ken Biro was your partner. You’d think you could help with a simple birthday party.”
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Mad—Ms. Reiter.” Elise corrected her greeting to the boss’s ex-wife, tipped her chin to a relatively confident angle and crossed the room to return to her desk. “Quinn Gallagher just made an appointment for tomorrow morning to discuss Titov Industrial and potential munitions contracts with the city,” she reported to George. “I marked your calendar. I’ll bring in the file with the negotiations transcripts to review for your two o’clock. The retirement banquet speech is on your desk.”
Elise quickly slipped by him out the door, but he grabbed her hand as she passed, forcing her to stop and turn. George’s steely eyes silently demanded an explanation, but it was the warm brush of his thumb across her knuckles that almost had her spilling the details about her connection to Alexsandr Titov and the potential threat he represented.
“Good afternoon, Elise.” Courtney Reiter’s gaze had zeroed in on the clasp of hands between boss and assistant.
Telling herself she was glad for the blonde’s dismissive tone, Elise snatched her hand away and hurried back to her desk.
Muttering a curse beneath his breath, George strode into his office. He plucked the file from his ex-wife’s grasp and set it back on the desk. “I thought this conversation was over, Court. You never even liked Ken. Why is this such a big deal?”
Courtney’s voice grew louder as she approached the door. “Ken has been a part of our lives for years. Just because we fight like cats and dogs on occasion doesn’t mean he isn’t my friend, too. In fact...” The blonde waited for Elise to look her way before she smiled sweetly...and closed the door.
Well, that message was clear as crystal. Stay out of my business. Though whether the older woman’s warning stemmed from an arrogance that relegated Elise to being the hired help who needed to remember her place, or a more possessive streak of jealousy at seeing George and Elise holding hands, was less clear.
The click of the door left Elise feeling chilled and alone. Could Alexsandr Titov really blame her for his brother’s murder? After all, she’d been Nikolai’s victim. He’d swept her off her feet and she’d fancied herself in love with him. She’d even slept with him because she’d been that desperately lonely and he seemed to care. But once she found out how he’d used her to gain inside information on Quinn Gallagher and GSS, she’d willingly labeled him a criminal and provided a deposition against him.
What would she have done if Courtney Reiter hadn’t laid claim to George’s time and attention? Would Elise have turned into that broad chest? Spilled her guts? Confessed how a previously unacknowledged, forbidden attraction had simmered to the surface with the intensity of the summer heat wave?
Elise folded her hands together in her lap and rubbed the spot where George had held her. The firm clasp of fingers. The gentle stroke of his thumb. She could still feel his touch on her skin. She could vividly remember those brief moments of being sheltered, cared for. She could see herself wanting, needing, falling for the man.
“Please, George. Do this for me,” Courtney pleaded on the other side of the door.
But Elise had no right to make any such demand on his time and caring. Wisely ignoring those tempting ideas, Elise put her hands on her keyboard to update the budget report. Although she didn’t envy the one-sided argument she could hear through the closed door, she was relieved that George’s ex-wife was demanding his attention. Let him solve Courtney’s problems. Let him be a rock for someone else. Elise couldn’t depend on her boss to comfort her or save her or whatever it was she thought he could do for her right now.
If she’d quit getting herself into trouble, she wouldn’t need any man to save her.
Several minutes passed, long enough for Elise to get three pages of new data entered into the budget report. The uncomfortable opportunity to eavesdrop on the room next door went away as the voices quieted into a civilized conversation. George was either able to calm his ex, she was beginning to see reason or both.
Elise had managed to immerse herself in her work again when a man cleared his throat from the hallway door. Looking up, she smiled. “Officer Hale.”
A quick glance at the time and the calendar confirmed the uniformed police officer was here for a scheduled appointment. “Ma’am.”
She circled the desk to shake the officer’s hand and gestured to the seating area of her office. “Could I get you a cup of coffee? Or something cold to drink?”
“Water if you have it.” Denton Hale took a seat once Elise brought him a bottle of water from the minifridge and sat. Although his short-sleeved uniform was neatly pressed, the dark marks at his armpits indicated he was taking a break in the middle of a work shift. He opened the bottle and drank half of it before capping it and thanking her. “That hit the spot. My partner and I recently got our shift transferred to your neighborhood. At least I think it’s your part of town—I saw you walking your dog there.”
“Could be. Spike and I are out every morning and most evenings.”
“The older residential districts seem to be getting hit pretty hard with brownouts and transformers going off-line.” The middle-aged cop toyed with the brim of his hat, as if nervous about coming up with more conversation. “Have you had any power outages yet? Our electricity went out a couple of nights ago. We all ended up sleeping on the screened-in porch.”
“That sounds like a fun adventure.”
“The kids liked it, although the camp cot’s a little hard on my back these days.”
Knowing Denton Hale was here to discuss possible salary freezes and staff cuts—maybe even his own job or that of his friends—with the deputy commissioner, Elise did her best to put him at ease. No sense adding to his stress. “We’ve had a couple of outages, but nothing that lasted for any length of time. I run the air-conditioning just upstairs at night, and turn it on low during the day—enough for my dog to manage the heat. I’m trying to do whatever I can to help conserve energy.”
“Yeah. I guess it’s been pretty rough. We followed one utility worker out on a call this morning. Somebody had vandalized his work truck. Painted a message on it I wouldn’t want to repeat.”
Elise shook her head. “That’s terrible. It’s not like this weather is the city’s fault. I guess tempers are shorter when the temperature is higher.”
“Yes, ma’am. That’s been my experience.” After an awkward pause and another long drink, the police officer pointed toward George’s door. “Is he in?”
Elise took his empty bottle and brought him another water. “Mr. Madigan’s appointment is running a little longer than he anticipated.”
Denton Hale shoved his fingers though his brown hair, finally relaxing a bit, and grinned. “I think I’ve had more conversations with you on this couch, waiting for the commish to talk negotiation strategies, than I have with my wife the past couple of weeks.”
Elise smiled at the joke. “Budget time does that, I think. Lots of meetings, lots of waiting.”
“You’re easy to talk to, I guess.”
“Thanks.”
“I bet you’re putting in extra hours, too. What does your boyfriend think of that?”
“My boyfriend?”
“A pretty lady like you must be taken.” He took another drink before pointing to her. “I didn’t see a ring, though.”
Although she smiled, Elise suddenly wasn’t feeling as welcoming as she had a moment earlier. “No boyfriend. Never married.”
“That’s a shame.” A split second later, Officer Hale’s cheeks reddened and he put up an apologetic hand. “Wait. Girlfriend?”
Shaking her head, Elise stood and checked her watch. She had no problem with small talk to make a visitor more comfortable about waiting for the deputy commissioner. But today wasn’t a good day for her to be the main topic. “If you’ll excuse me a moment, I’ll remind Mr. Madigan that you’re here.”
She picked up the negotiations file from her desk and knocked softly on the black door.
“Come in.”
As soon as George responded, Elise nudged open the door. He was sitting on the front edge of his desk, holding a box of tissues for his ex-wife, who was dabbing at tears. Despite a tug of sympathy, Elise quickly quashed any urge to ask if everything was okay. “Your two o’clock is here, sir. Denton Hale from the officers’ union?” She handed him the file. “Here are the transcripts you wanted.”