She made herself comfortable, then offered Sadie one of those disgusting chewing treats—her sister called them pig’s ears, but surely they weren’t that—to keep her occupied for a while. Then she opened the paper she’d purchased on her way over and pretended to be engrossed in the daily catalog of murders, political blunders and celebrity gossip.
It was almost five and the streets were flooded with commuters on their way home from the office. Every few minutes someone new would enter the apartment building, stopping to converse with the doorman before proceeding inside. She watched a young mother, holding on to her preschool daughter with one hand, and juggling a bag of groceries and an oversize purse with the other.
A few minutes later a middle-age man hurried up the steps carrying a bottle in a brown paper bag.
Lindsay kept a careful eye on all the activity, while at the same time managing to occasionally turn a page of her paper or offer a pat for Sadie. As the sky darkened, she began to feel chilled. She zipped up her jacket, then slipped a red sweater over Sadie’s head and front legs.
The poor dog looked totally miserable in her cute doggy outfit. “I’m sorry, Sadie. Meg made me promise.”
Lindsay wondered how much longer she should sit here and wait. Soon it would be dark and there was no telling when Paige Stevens might come home. Meg would worry if she didn’t bring Sadie back soon.
A tall kid wearing a hoodie and jeans with the crotch hanging almost at his knees, skateboarded by. Though he appeared to have his board under control, Lindsay thought he was moving much too fast to be safe. She tightened her hold on Sadie’s leash. “Slow down, buddy,” she called after the kid.
About five minutes later the skateboarder circled back. Seeing him approach, Lindsay pulled Sadie close again. The kid had his head tucked down and seemed to be headed straight for her. When he was only a few feet away, he shifted his weight to the back of the board and braked to a crawl.
Great. She’d probably pissed him off and now she was going to get into a stupid, and potentially violent, confrontation. She didn’t doubt that she could handle the situation, but she was on a job here. She wasn’t supposed to be drawing attention to herself.
“Hey, Fox,” the skateboarder kid said. “Nice disguise, but I think mine is better. The dog is a cute touch, though.”
Holy cow, the skateboarder was Fisher. Lindsay felt a flooding of emotion—everything from illogical happiness to downright annoyance.
“You look about sixteen years old,” she said.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He leaned over to pet Sadie. “Your sister’s dog?”
“Yeah. Sadie, this is Nathan Fisher. Keep your distance, he’s a dangerous dude.”
Their eyes met for a long moment. She couldn’t see a trace of Nathan’s usual warmth or humor. His anger had cooled, but it had also hardened. A wedge lay between them now. And she had placed it there.
It’s better this way, she reminded herself, trying to keep her emotions calm and collected as he settled on the bench beside her.
She didn’t need to ask what Nathan was doing here. Same thing as her, obviously. “I’ve been watching for over an hour,” she told him. “No sign of Paige or Maurice.”
“The penthouse is dark,” Nathan observed. “One of them has to come home sooner or later.” He stretched out his legs, as if he intended to stay until it happened.
“Unless Maurice was sincere about the reconciliation.”
“In which case when Paige comes home, she’ll be alone. Not that that will prove anything conclusively. But it might make me a tiny bit more inclined to believe the story Maurice is feeding his wife and his daughter.”
Lindsay nodded. She shared Nathan’s cynicism about the reconciliation. After witnessing Maurice and Paige together the other night, how could she not?
“If he doesn’t honestly want to save his marriage, what do you think Maurice is up to?”
“No idea,” Nathan admitted. “Do you have any theories?”
“None that don’t sound half-baked.”
“Yeah. I’ve got a few of those, myself.”
This is good, Lindsay told herself. We’re talking about work and everything is civil.
But it wasn’t easy to focus with Nathan sitting so close. Her thoughts kept circling back to the weekend, to the somewhat amazing fact that only twelve hours ago they’d been cuddled in bed together.
What a mistake that had been.
Nathan checked the time on his watch. “Past six. It’s getting cool. No sense both of us sitting here hungry and cold.”
“You go. I’ll let you know if I see them.”
“Technically you shouldn’t even be here,” Nathan said. “Celia did pull you off the case this morning.”
“She pulled us off the case.”
“I’m not here in an official capacity, but as a concerned friend of the family.”
Did he mean to taunt her by reminding her of his former relationship with Celia? If so—it was working. Lindsay didn’t try to hide her annoyance. “I may not be a friend of the family, but the contract we signed had Fox Investigations on the letterhead and my signature at the bottom. That made Celia my client, and I happen to care about my clients. Even when they stop sending me checks.”
Nathan seemed surprised by her outburst. Then he sighed. “I know you care. It’s why you’re so good at what you do. But have you ever thought that maybe you care too much about some things, and not enough about others?”
“Damn it, Nathan. We set ground rules to our relationship—there were no promises.”
“You set up those rules. I didn’t. Excuse me for having normal, human emotions for the women I sleep with.”
“Are you saying my emotions aren’t normal?”
His jaw tightened, then he spit out, “Emotions? What emotions? Unless you’re talking about anger. That’s one emotion you seem to have mastered.”
She was struggling to think up a scathing response when she noticed a familiar redhead on the sidewalk across the street. Paige Stevens was wearing a trench coat unbuttoned over a navy business suit. Probably on her way home from work.
Nathan had spotted her, too. Silently they watched as she waited for the doorman to allow her entry. About two minutes later bright lights flooded the upper floor of the building.
“So where’s Maurice?” Lindsay wondered. “Is it possible the affair is over?”
“Maybe.” Nathan stood and balanced one foot on the skateboard. “Seems to be a lot of that going around.” Then he pushed off and rolled down the path until he was out of sight.
NATHAN CROSSED THE STREET to a coffee shop. He’d be able to keep an eye on the apartment building from here, for a while at least, without arousing suspicion. He tucked his board under one arm then went up to the counter and ordered a large green tea and a blueberry oat muffin.
A counter with stools along the window wall provided a handy spot for him to sit and watch.
Only the first spot he checked wasn’t the apartment building next door, but the park bench across the street. It was empty. He scanned the surrounding area but could see no sign of Lindsay and her sister’s little bichon.
Well. That was a good thing, he told himself.
He cupped his cold hands around the mug of tea. More warmth here than he’d ever felt from Lindsay. Of all the women to be attracted to. He should count himself lucky it had ended as quickly as it had.
From this seat he had a perfect view of the apartment’s front entrance. If Maurice showed up to meet his lover, Nathan would spot him for sure. Every fifteen minutes or so someone either entered or left the building. But it was never Paige leaving or Maurice arriving.
Once his tea and muffin were gone, Nathan called his sister.
“What’s up? We hardly saw you this weekend.”
“Just a job,” he said, sorry for the lie but unable to talk about Lindsay just yet. “How are you and Justin doing?”
“Great. We went to visit June Stone on Sunday
—remember me telling you about her?”
“Of course, I do.”
“Well, the apartment is wonderful. And there’s a park for Justin across the street.”
“So you think you’re going to move?” He’d miss his sister and Justin. Which only made him realize that it was time he got his own personal life in order.
“At the end of next month.”
“I’ll help,” he promised. By then he’d be completely unemployed, with lots of free time on his hands. But he wouldn’t worry Mary-Beth with that news, yet. Not until he’d decided what to do.
He could always go back to the police force—Lt. Rock had made that very clear. Alternatively, he could go into business for himself, as Lindsay had done. There were advantages to each, though right now, he couldn’t muster much enthusiasm for either option.
LINDSAY LOOKED OVER THE RIM of her third paralyzer and sighed. Would this crazy day never end? Her sister had just walked into the Stool Pigeon dressed in tall boots and a trench coat that probably covered her pajamas. Meg was usually in bed by ten and it was almost midnight now.
It took Meg a while to find her amid the smattering of other regulars sitting at tables and along the bar. Lindsay didn’t make it easy for her by waving or calling out. Instead, she slunk into her booth seat and tried looking inconspicuous. Her sister didn’t belong here.
Wendy approached with a tray full of empty glasses. Lindsay glowered at her. “You called Meg, didn’t you?”
Wendy just shrugged.
There was something to be said for patronizing a bar where no one knew your name. Or your sister’s name, for that matter.
“There you are.” Meg had finally spotted her. She walked up to the booth, slid onto the opposite bench seat, then proceeded to examine her older sister as if she was an uncooperative witness.
“This is my place,” Lindsay said finally. “My hangout. Not yours. Why aren’t you in bed? Or should I say, still in bed?” She’d been right about the pajamas. She could see a bit of blue flannel above the top button of Meg’s trench.
Noticing her gaze, Meg pulled her coat tighter. “I’m here because I’m worried about you.”
“No need for that. Go home and get your beauty rest. You know how grouchy you are if you don’t get your eight hours.”
Predictably, Meg ignored her advice. She leaned closer. “I assume this has something to do with Nathan?”
Bingo on the first try. Her sister always had been the bright one. “How’s Sadie? I hope I didn’t tire her out too much tonight. Thanks again for letting me borrow her. She made an excellent cover.”
“She’s fine. She loved the long walk. She’ll probably sleep until noon tomorrow. Now tell me about Nathan.”
“Would you please stop mentioning that name?” Lindsay tried signaling Wendy for another drink, but the wretched woman pointedly ignored her. Lindsay set her empty glass to the side with the other two. Apparently Wendy was clearing every glass in the place tonight, except hers. As if Lindsay couldn’t keep track of how many drinks she was having.
Meg was eyeing those empty glasses now, her expression worried. “This isn’t good.”
“I don’t drink to be good. I drink to feel good.” No. That wasn’t true, either. She drank so she wouldn’t feel. Tonight the numbness was elusive.
Wendy ambled up to them. Business was slow this time of night and she didn’t move very fast at the best of times. She placed two empty mugs and a pot of tea on their table, then fixed her gaze on Lindsay as if daring her to complain.
Lindsay took a sniff, then wrinkled her nose. “Chamomile?”
“Perfect. Thanks, Wendy.” Meg poured the brew into the mugs then pushed one toward Lindsay.
“Talk some sense into your sister. We thought she was finally getting a life. Now this.” Wendy shook her head despairingly, before heading to the front of the bar to clear a recently vacated table.
Meg folded her arms on the table and leaned even closer. “He seemed like a nice guy. What happened?”
Reminding herself that her sister’s intentions were good, Lindsay capitulated. “Fine. If you must know, we spent the entire weekend together.”
Meg smiled. “And it was good?”
“Very good.” Lindsay started to smile, too, but ended up sighing. “The trouble started this morning. One of our clients is an ex-girlfriend of Nathan’s. She sensed the new relationship between us, and went crazy.”
“Oh, dear.”
“It was ugly, let me tell you. But I needed the shakeup. I realized I’d made the cardinal mistake of mixing business with pleasure.”
“Don’t tell me you broke up with him?”
“Of course I did.”
“But you’re still working together?”
“Definitely not. Meg, you should have been there. It was so unprofessional.”
“Lindsay, for a smart woman, you can be so dense. People who work together have love affairs all the time. Sometimes they get married. I should tell you all the stuff that goes on in my office.”
“So it goes on. That doesn’t make it right.”
“No. It makes it human. It’s only natural that men and women are attracted to one another and that when they spend a lot of time together, sometimes they fall in love.”
“I’m not in love. This thing with Nathan…it was supposed to be fun, without strings attached.”
“If it was ‘just sex’ then why are you sitting alone in a bar, feeling miserable?”
“I’m not—” She stopped midway through her denial. Yes, she was miserable. This weekend, she’d actually been happy. Happier than she could ever remember feeling in her life.
“What’s wrong with me? Why did I have to push him away?”
“Because your emotions were getting involved, and that scares you. It always has.”
“Hell. You’re right. What should I do? Do you think I should try therapy again?”
But she hated therapy. She’d certainly tried enough of it in the past.
“Maybe. Or you could try calling him. Apologizing.”
Lindsay shook her head. “What would I apologize for? Being myself?”
She couldn’t help the way she was. Just because she knew that her anger, her need to keep people at a distance, had been caused by the death of her parents, didn’t change anything. She wanted to be different, but she simply wasn’t.
“I told him the rules. If he wanted to be with me, he would have accepted them.”
“Oh, Lord.” Meg cupped her hands on either side of her head in a gesture of hopelessness. “Maybe you should try therapy again. Not that it’s done that much for me. At least not as far as men go.”
Meg was a powerhouse when it came to her job, dealing with clients and appearing in court. But put her in a social situation with a man and she was all nerves.
“We are such a mess,” Lindsay said.
“At least I can sleep at night. And I don’t need that.” Meg pointed at the empty drink glasses, then pushed the cup of tea toward her sister. “Drink up. Then I’m walking you home.”
When Lindsay tried to protest, her sister stayed firm. “Do it, Lindsay. Or you’re never getting rid of me.”
Lindsay sipped the chamomile tea, then made a face. “I suppose this is what they call tough love.”
“That’s what sisters are for.”
DESPITE MEG’S GOOD INTENTIONS, the tea and a long hot soak in her tub, Lindsay couldn’t sleep. At two in the morning she turned on her computer and checked her e-mail. She was surprised to see a message from Nathan. She quickly moved the curser to open it.
Lindsay, thought you’d like to know that when I left the stakeout at midnight tonight, Maurice still hadn’t shown up. If you want to keep an eye on the place tomorrow, I’ll cover Wednesday. Let me know if that works. Nathan.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LINDSAY READ NATHAN’S MESSAGE several times over. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t see anything between the lines. Short, professional and blunt.
Even his sign-off had been the bare minimum: his name.
She swiveled her chair away from the computer and gazed over her living room. She could still see signs of her weekend with Nathan. Two cups on one of her speakers. One of Nathan’s navy socks stuck between the cushions on her sofa. She plucked it out and considered returning it to him. She tried to imagine what his sister would say if she rang their doorbell at two-thirty in the morning.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, but I thought Nathan might be missing this.”
She laughed. And then she threw the sock across the room, or at least tried to. The sock was so light it landed like a feather just a few feet from where she was standing. She left it on the weathered hardwood floor.
Maybe she should make some more tea. But she didn’t want tea. She thought of all the ingredients she had chilling in her fridge. The vodka, the tequila, the coffee liqueur.
But she’d promised Meg, no more tonight, and really it was a promise she wanted to keep. Certain lines were just too dangerous to cross.
Lindsay went back to her computer and hit Reply.
Thanks for the update. I’ll take care of Tuesday. I’ll let you know how it goes. Lindsay.
She hit Send then turned on spider solitaire. Partway through the game her computer signaled an incoming message. Quickly, she switched screens, her heart racing at the sight of Nathan’s name in her in-box, again.
She opened the message.
Sounds like a plan. But what are you doing up at this hour? Go to bed, Lindsay. Get some sleep.
What about you? she wanted to ask. Why are you still awake so late?
She smiled at his typical Nathan-like concern. But the warm feeling quickly faded into sorrow and pain. Like Meg said, he was a really good guy. Much too nice a person for someone like her.
TUESDAY, LINDSAY FELT LIKE HELL. Not enough sleep. Too much thinking about Nathan. A very bad combination.
It didn’t help that she had to spend the day performing routine background checks for one of her corporate clients. The pay was good, the work was steady. But this was the sort of administrative brain workout someone like Nathan could do in half the time it took her.
Perfect Partners? Page 15