The Temporary Detective

by Joanne Sydney Lessner

  “James! What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to apologize for the way I acted on the phone the other day.”

  Points for you, thought Isobel. A man who apologizes.

  “I’m impressed that you came by just to say you’re sorry,” she said.

  “Well, I was having lunch with Felice Edwards, so I thought I’d poke my head in.”

  So much for that. Still, he had made the effort.

  James leaned down and lowered his voice. “You don’t have to stay here.”

  “We’ve been through this. Unless you have something else—”

  “That’s not a reason to stay.”

  “For me it is,” Isobel said firmly.

  “Felice told me about some of the folks you’re working with. And, well…just be careful.”

  Isobel craned her neck to look up at his face and noticed for the first time what a lovely liquid brown his eyes were. They were looking at her with real concern.

  “I suppose I should be flattered that you’re so worried about me,” she said.

  James shifted away from her slightly. “I would be about any employee.”

  Isobel turned over the flash drive in her hand. “Is there anything…specific…you think I should know?”

  James cleared his throat and leaned in toward her again. She felt a slight charge of excitement, although she wasn’t sure if it was due to the physical proximity of such a large man or the certainty that he was about to impart something significant.

  “There’s a woman here who’s freelance.”

  “Nikki Francis?”

  “Yeah, she tried to get Doreen fired.”

  “Maybe, but—”

  “Listen to me. She also said something a little freaky.”

  Isobel caught her breath. “James—”

  “Will you listen? This Nikki apparently told Felice that if Doreen didn’t shut up, someone would shut her up for good, because Doreen was poking around in her personal business.”

  “James—”

  “And she’s an actress too, so I figured you’d probably make friends with her. Just be on your guard, okay?”

  “James, please—” Isobel shook her head at him.

  “Watch out for all of them, but be especially careful of Nikki Francis.”

  Isobel closed her eyes and put her hands over her face.

  “Why should she be careful of me?”

  He staggered around to face Nikki, who had come up behind him.

  “I tried to tell you,” Isobel whispered.

  “And who the hell are you, anyway?” Nikki’s face was red, though her eyes no longer were.

  “I’m Isobel’s—um, she’s my…we’re…”

  “This is James,” Isobel broke in. “He’s my rep at Temp Zone.”

  Nikki looked furiously from Isobel to James. “Oh, really? Well, maybe you should be careful of him!”

  SIXTEEN

  James kicked the latticed metal trash can on the corner of Twenty-fourth and Madison, scattering nervous passersby. Then he whipped out his cell phone and dialed furiously.

  “Bill? I’ve counted to ten twice, now tell me why I shouldn’t have a drink.”

  The calm voice on the other end answered, “Because it’s been almost a whole month, and that’s a major milestone. You’re so close, don’t give up now.”

  “You gotta do better than that, man, because the way I’m feeling right now, I don’t give a shit about milestones—I just want a drink.”

  “Count to ten again.”

  “Goddammit, Bill, I told you—”

  “Do it! Out loud.”

  Through gritted teeth, James counted to ten.

  “All right,” Bill said steadily. “Let’s think about what’s important here. You’ve got this far, don’t let it slip away. Whatever happened, I’m sure it can’t be as bad as you think. You wanna tell me about it?”

  James kicked a small pile of leaves, which rose and fell in a crunchy swirl. “Nah, it’s too stupid.”

  “Well, if it’s so stupid, then it’s definitely not worth falling off the wagon.”

  Bill had a point. Why should he care if that Nikki woman knew he thought she might be dangerous? As far as he was concerned, they all were. Dangerous until proven innocent. No, what was eating him was the helpless look on Isobel’s face. He’d painted her into a corner, and then he’d hightailed it out of there. He’d run away like a freaking coward, leaving her to explain.

  “Let’s focus on the positive.” Bill’s voice broke into his consciousness. “Anything positive happen today?”

  “Lunch with a sexy babe,” James admitted. Lunch had been good in that Felice was easy on the eyes and he’d gotten some information out of her. But that thought led him right back to the mess he’d made.

  “Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”

  “Mixed, actually. Like a nice scotch and soda.”

  “James,” warned Bill.

  “She had too much to drink. She asked me to take her home, but it was a business lunch, and I had no intention of taking her home for just about every reason you can think of. I managed to get her back to her office, and right now she’s passed out on her sofa.”

  “Okay.”

  “And then I went by to check on this girl—this woman—this girl I’ve got working for me, and I was telling her something about a co-worker of hers. But I didn’t know that this co-worker had come up behind me and heard every goddamn thing I said.”

  “Ahhhh.”

  “Don’t fuckin’ say ‘ahhhh!’ Just listen. You got me talking, now let me finish. I left my girl hanging. And I went by in the first place to apologize for something I shouldn’t have had to apologize for at all, and now both of them think I’m an asshole. And when the sexy babe wakes up on her office couch with a hangover the size of Staten Island, she’ll think I’m an asshole, too.”

  “So three women think you’re an asshole.”

  “That about sums it up.”

  “You’re feeling vulnerable, your self-esteem has been wounded, and the natural thing to do is drink, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Wrong! This is when you need to just stop in your tracks and repeat the Serenity Prayer.”

  “You don’t understand! I might have put my girl in danger!”

  “Is this Jayla we’re talking about?”

  “No, it’s not Jayla. I told you, it’s a girl who works for me. One of our temps. She’s at an office where—” He suddenly found himself too tired to rehash Doreen’s murder. “Never mind. You’re right. Three women think I’m an asshole. So fuckin’ what?”

  “Got any gum?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Take out two pieces. Put one in your mouth, and as soon as the flavor runs out, add the second. Then walk from wherever you are now to wherever you’re going and don’t stop. Call me again when you get there. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Call me!”

  James shoved his phone in his jacket pocket and pulled out a packet of wintergreen Orbit. He popped a piece in his mouth and chewed mightily. He would call Bill when he got back to his office like he promised, but he was already a bit calmer. Two things he’d told Bill had triggered pictures in his mind. The first was Felice, her plump face slack, the curves of her body gyrating gently against his as he steered her back to her office past her wide-eyed colleagues. It had been a long time since he had been sober looking at someone who’d had too much to drink. It was amazing how unattractive she had immediately become. He was beginning to understand what he must be like drunk, all 250 pounds of him. No wonder Columbia had given him the boot, not to mention the other recruiting firms he had worked at. Who could work, study, play football, or even carry on a conversation like that?

  But it was the second thing he’d said that had brought him up short. It was possible, even likely, that his clumsiness had put Isobel in even more danger. If that was the case, he owed it to her to try to keep her safe.

  And he w
asn’t fool enough to think he could do that drunk.

  Nikki and Isobel stared at each other for a long time after James stumbled out. Isobel finally broke the silence.

  “I don’t believe him,” she said.

  “Maybe you should,” Nikki said in a thin voice. “Maybe he was telling the truth.”

  “Well, was he?” Isobel asked.

  Nikki shook her head, defusing the tension slightly. “I did try to get Doreen fired—he’s right about that. And I did say that if she wasn’t careful, someone would shut her big fat mouth for her. But I’m certainly not the one who did it. I’m not dangerous. A little overdramatic, maybe.”

  “I see,” said Isobel.

  But her mind was racing. James the giant jerk had completely jeopardized her one decent relationship on the job. She had spotted Nikki approaching and had seen her about to tap James on the shoulder to ask him to move. The worst part was that Isobel hadn’t had time to process any of it before being left to face Nikki.

  “What made you say a thing like that, anyway?” she asked.

  “I’d had my emotional reality class that morning. We’d done anger that day, and my monologue was from The Duchess of Malfi, so you can imagine where my head was. I would never be dumb enough to say something like that if I intended to follow through on it,” Nikki said.

  “Was Doreen poking around in your personal business?”

  Nikki gave a shallow laugh. “Doreen was poking around in everybody’s business. I guarantee you that in the few hours you were here, she found out more about you than you think. She was a nasty, nosy person, and one day I got particularly fed up.”

  “When was this?” Isobel asked.

  “About a month ago.” Nikki rubbed her neck with her long, graceful hands. “The class is great, but it can sort of screw with your head. You saw how I was with you this morning. It was the same thing that day. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

  “So I don’t have to be careful of you?”

  “No, you don’t.” Nikki’s expression softened. “In fact, I hope we’ll be friends.”

  Isobel nodded. “Thanks. Me, too.”

  “And if you ever want to try my acting class, just let me know,” Nikki said, returning to her desk.

  Isobel plugged Doreen’s correspondence drive into her computer and squinted at the screen, pretending to work. As furious as she was with James, she knew it would be foolish not to proceed with at least some caution where Nikki was concerned. She recognized the temptation to fall into a friendship with a fellow thespian adrift in the business world, but this was a good reminder not to trust anybody at InterBank Switzerland. She looked over at Nikki, who was reapplying her lipstick, and wondered what Doreen had found out that had set her off. Was an emotional hangover from an acting class the real reason behind Nikki’s outburst, or was she using that as an excuse for behavior that was, given recent events, potentially incriminating? Isobel had never heard of an emotional reality acting class. Was it even for real? She picked up her résumé and glanced at the Training section.

  There was only one way to find out.

  SEVENTEEN

  As Delphi passed by the bar at Vino Rosso with a tray of appetizers on her shoulder, Isobel tried to catch her eye.

  “Talk,” she mouthed.

  Delphi frowned and continued on her path. In a moment, she was back, empty tray in hand.

  “You have to order something if you’re going to sit here,” Delphi said.

  “I’ll get a glass of wine. Have you ever heard of Terence Hoff?” Isobel asked.

  “No. Who’s he?”

  “An acting teacher.”

  “Look in Backstage. All the acting teachers advertise in the back,” Delphi said.

  “I did. He’s not there.”

  “I can’t talk now, I’m working—”

  “Bellissima!” A tall, handsome Italian man drew up to them. “Table four wants you.” He put his face close to Delphi’s. “They are not the only ones.” Delphi raised a weary eyebrow at Isobel and walked off toward the tables.

  “What can I get for you to drink, eh?” the man asked Isobel.

  “What red wine do you have by the glass? Nothing too expensive.”

  “Complimentary! It will be my pleasure. Any friend of la bellissima is a friend of mine,” he said with a wink.

  He circled around behind the bar and poured her wine. This was obviously the maître d’ Delphi had mentioned. He was definitely attractive, with wavy black hair and dark shining eyes, but Isobel had little patience for Latin machismo. She liked men with a little humility. She couldn’t imagine this guy ever apologizing for anything.

  “I must apologize,” he said, setting a glass in front of her. “I wanted you to try our house specialty, a lovely Nero d’Avola, but we have run out.”

  Well, not for anything serious, anyway, she thought.

  “This is perfect, thanks,” she said, tasting the wine.

  “It is our best Barbera,” he said proudly.

  “It’s excellent.” Isobel found it even smoother on the second sip. It was far superior to the wine she usually drank.

  He moved in closer. “You know the secrets of la bellissima, maybe?”

  So there was a price to pay for the free wine. “Perhaps I do,” she said. “But I’m certainly not going to reveal them to anybody whose name I don’t know.”

  “I am Carlo. Carlo Alessandrini, maître d’ of Vino Rosso. Although I think to persuade the owner to change the name to La Bellissima, after your friend, the exquisite Delphinium.”

  Isobel laughed. “You won’t get anywhere if you call her that.”

  “I do not understand. It is so beautiful and unusual. Like her.”

  “Yeah, well, she hates it.”

  “There is one thing I would like to know, and perhaps you can tell me, eh?”

  “Depends,” said Isobel.

  “Does she have a ragazzo?” he said in a stage whisper. “A boyfriend?”

  Before Isobel could answer, Sunil burst into the restaurant and spotted her at the bar.

  “Sorry I’m late. That showcase company just called—I got the part in Two by Two!”

  “That’s fantastic!” She jumped off the stool and threw her arms around him.

  Sunil looked around excitedly. “Where’s Delphi? I can’t wait to tell her!”

  “I’m sure she’ll be back in a moment.” She turned to Carlo. “Oh, and in answer to your question? Yes.” She cocked her head in Sunil’s direction. Carlo’s handsome Roman features flushed.

  “I see,” he said.

  “Well?” She gazed expectantly at Carlo.

  “Well…what?”

  “Another glass of Barbera on the house? I believe you said that any friend of Delphi’s was a friend of yours?”

  Carlo glowered at her and returned a moment later with a second glass, barely half full.

  “Hey, thanks!” Sunil said.

  Carlo ignored him and strode away to the front door where he greeted a party of six with loud air kisses.

  “Clearly you have the touch and I don’t,” Sunil said wryly.

  “But you have it where it counts. You got the job. That’s great!”

  “Well, that remains to be seen. This company has a reputation. And it’s a showcase, so there’s no pay.”

  “I’ll help you send out flyers to agents and casting directors if you want,” said Isobel. “I can use the equipment at my office.”

  “That would be great!”

  “My office,” she mused. “That sounds so strange. But I suppose, for now, it’s true.”

  “You’ll get an acting job. Don’t forget, I’ve been here for a year already.”

  “And this is your first gig?”

  “Not exactly. I had a summer stock job last year.” He smiled sheepishly. “Playing Ali Hakim in Oklahoma.”

  “Well, here’s to the first of many fabulous singing roles,” Isobel said, raising her glass.

  “And here’s hopi
ng you survive your office job long enough to get one yourself!”

  They clinked glasses and drank. Delphi joined them a moment later.

  “Sunil has news,” Isobel said, elbowing him.

  “I got Noah in Two by Two.”

  “That’s fantastic!” Delphi crowed.

  “Thanks,” he smiled, slightly embarrassed. “I’m sure you’ll get something soon.”

  “I’ve been thinking about Shakespeare.” Delphi turned to Isobel. “Something you said the other day about my having a good period look.”

  Isobel nodded enthusiastically. “You do! I’m hopelessly contemporary. But your curls, your features. When you lose the heavy silver and the nose ring, you have this amazing china doll look.”

  “Why do you think I got the nose ring?” said Delphi drily.

  “I can totally see you doing Shakespeare,” Isobel continued. “Helena, Olivia, Beatrice…”

  “Lady Macbeth, Goneril…” added Sunil.

  “Very funny.” Delphi punched him playfully on the arm. “Anyway, I thought I might try a class. Just to see if it suits me.”

  “That reminds me.” Isobel told them about Nikki, leaving out James’s intrusion. She would fill Delphi in on that later. “So I want to find out if this emotional reality class is for real. Who wants to join me?”

  “Sounds ridiculous,” scoffed Sunil.

  “I’m game,” Delphi volunteered. “Besides, I don’t want you going anywhere alone with anyone from that office. Even—no, especially—with that actress.”

  “It’s Monday morning,” Isobel said. “I guess I’ll have to ask for time off.”

  “What if an audition comes along later in the week?” Sunil asked.

  “I’ll take my chances,” Isobel said. “I need to find a good acting class, anyway.”

  “Doesn’t sound like this is it,” Delphi said doubtfully.

  “No, it doesn’t. But it will be an object lesson in what I don’t want.” Isobel raised her glass and downed the rest of her wine in a satisfied gulp.

  Isobel was unpacking the last of her things into the apartment’s one small closet when Delphi returned home after her shift later that night.

  “I’m beat,” Delphi said, flopping onto the futon. A puff of dust rose up. “I have to do something about that,” she said, coughing.