Perfect Partners?

by C. J. Carmichael

  Nadine wisely avoided her for most of the day, ensuring only that incoming calls were dealt with and the coffeepot remained full and fresh at all times.

  At lunch Lindsay went out to grab a hot dog and a bit of air. She ordered a jumbo dog from a street vendor, loaded the bun with mustard, then took off down Columbus Street, walking with no destination in mind, just to get a little exercise.

  Within two blocks she’d finished her hot dog. She was about to turn around when she noticed someone familiar sitting at the window of the Garden Café. He had his back to her, but she recognized his hair, his jacket, the set of his shoulders.

  She moved closer, wondering who Nathan was having lunch with. The restaurant was the kind he would like, specializing in all sorts of healthy, vegetarian fare. It was fronted with large glass panes…the kind that opened to create the feel of a patio in nice weather. With today’s cool temperatures, the windows were closed, but she could still see clearly inside.

  Nathan was sitting at a table for two, and across from him was a tall, big man, with a round head and rough features.

  She could tell, just from the way he held himself, that he was a cop. At second glance she realized Lt. Rock had been her and Nathan’s superior officer.

  She didn’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out the purpose of the meeting. The lieutenant was too senior to be Nathan’s friend. This was a business meeting. Nathan was thinking of returning to the NYPD.

  Lindsay wanted to pound her fist against the window. How could Nathan even talk to them after how he’d been treated? He was too good for them. He deserved so much better.

  Someone jostled into her and Lindsay realized she was blocking traffic. What was she doing here, anyway?

  It wasn’t her business and she shouldn’t care.

  But she did.

  HER QUIET OFFICE WAS THE perfect retreat for Lindsay that afternoon. She tackled the remaining background checks with grim determination, accepting it as her penance for screwing things up so badly with Nathan. By the end of the day, she had her report finished and an invoice printed and ready to be mailed to the client.

  She handed both to Nadine with instructions for delivery. “You can leave once you’ve delivered these to the courier.” She paused, slightly disconcerted by the knowledge that she’d just given such menial tasks to an heiress—someone who had no need of the monthly paycheck she was earning here.

  “You could do anything. Be anyone. Why this? Why here?”

  Nadine turned her hands, palms up. “I don’t know how to explain. I love that we’re doing something real. Working for you, I feel alive in a way I’ve never felt before.”

  Lindsay glanced around the office, trying to imagine how Nadine must see it. “I know I’m not the easiest boss. And you’ve made it clear that you find these offices too sterile.”

  “I live in houses decorated by the world’s best interior designers. I don’t care about the decor. You hired me without knowing my background or my family. You hired me for myself. And besides…I’ve always loved books and movies about private investigators.” She smiled sheepishly.

  “It’s not as exciting and glamorous as you expected, right?”

  “Maybe not. But in a good way. You actually help people. Like Carlene Schultz. It would have been terrible if she’d believed everything that man told her and gone ahead and married him.”

  “There are rewarding moments. But sometimes the work is dull.”

  “I guess it must be that way in any profession. But I’m never bored. Though…I would like to learn more about the investigation side of the business. Once I’ve mastered reception,” she added quickly.

  Lindsay tried to imagine her petite, softhearted receptionist as an investigator. “Eventually, sure. On-the-job training is the best way to go, though maybe six months from now you’ll be ready to enroll in some classes.”

  “That would be great. One more thing…is Nathan really gone for good?”

  Lindsay felt the muscles in her neck and back stiffen. “Yes. We’ll need to place our ad again.” She hated the prospect of interviewing more job applicants. But the cases were still mounting.

  “I’ll take care of it first thing in the morning,” Nadine promised, her tone lackluster. Lindsay understood. Nathan was not going to be easy to replace.

  She left the office with a final wave at Nadine, then headed to her apartment to change into a jogging outfit. She might as well get a little exercise tonight as she kept an eye out for Paige and Maurice.

  ON THURSDAY NIGHT NATHAN considered staying home with Mary-Beth and Justin. Mary-Beth had picked up a pumpkin at the market and they were planning on carving it tonight. She’d have her hands full with Justin running around the house in the teddy bear costume she’d made for him. He was so excited about the Halloween party at the day care tomorrow. He was too young to fully understand the holiday, but he knew it involved candy and that was enough to get him revved up. Mary-Beth was pretty restrictive when it came to sugary treats.

  Nathan headed to the kitchen. The pumpkin was on the table and Justin had been strapped into his high chair. The pumpkin had been decapitated and eviscerated, the pulpy mass piled on the remains of Wednesday’s Times. Mary-Beth had a black marker in her hand and was studying the pumpkin, critically.

  “It’s lopsided,” she complained to her brother.

  Nathan rotated the gourd about forty-five degrees.

  “That’s a bit better.” She wrinkled her nose. “I can’t decide what the face should look like. I don’t want it to be scary.”

  “May I?” When his sister nodded, Nathan took the marker then outlined big, happy eyes and a goofy grin.

  “Perfect.” Mary-Beth took his sharpest carving knife and pierced the thick outer skin. “How about rinsing off the pumpkin seeds? We can toss them with salt and oil and roast them in the oven.”

  Nathan remembered their mother doing that. She had always taken care of the seeds, while their father helped him and his sister carve the pumpkin.

  “I’d love to, sis, but I’ve got a job I should take care of. Even though it’s probably a waste of time.”

  This morning he’d received an e-mail from Lindsay telling him that she’d seen no sign of Maurice at the penthouse last night. That made three nights in a row that Paige Stevens had returned home alone after work. It seemed unlikely that Maurice would show up today, just one night before his planned weekend away with his estranged wife. Still, for the sake of thoroughness, Nathan knew he had to make sure.

  “I figured there had to be a reason you were dressed like that again.” She eyed his skateboarding getup with a rueful shake of her head. “You’ll be careful?”

  He rarely provided details about his work, but he knew she worried. “It’s just routine surveillance,” he assured her. “The biggest risk is falling off my skateboard.”

  He leaned over to give his nephew a high-five. “See you later, buddy.” With a final smile for his sister, he grabbed his skateboard and left.

  NATHAN WAS COLD. AND TIRED. It was too dark to skateboard anymore, and he was back at the coffee shop, nursing his second large green tea of the evening. This was the first night Paige Stevens hadn’t returned home shortly after work. She could be out doing many things…dinner with friends, shopping, an after-hours meeting with a client.

  But he had to hang around until she came home to be certain she wasn’t with Maurice.

  At ten o’clock, he was glad he’d waited. She stepped out of a taxi followed by none other than Celia’s father. They didn’t look like a couple that was breaking up, he mused, as they stopped for a kiss on the steps of the building.

  Nathan abandoned his cup of tea on the counter and hurried outside. Staying in the shadows, he adjusted the zoom on his camera. Thankfully the apartment building had bright lights around the door. He shot off several photos, catching the end of the kiss, then the couple, arms entwined, entering the building.

  Disappointed to have his hunch confirmed, yet not s
urprised, Nathan exchanged his camera for his cell phone. He had some trepidation about speaking to Lindsay in person. The remote e-mails they’d been exchanging this week were a much safer mode of communication.

  But he wanted her to know this as soon as possible.

  Lindsay answered on the second ring. “Did Maurice show up?”

  Despite the lack of social niceties, his gut tightened at the sound of her voice. Nathan watched the lights on the upper story flash on. “They’re inside right now.”

  “Well…so much for Maurice’s noble intentions toward his wife and their marriage.”

  In her voice he heard the same emotion he himself had experienced. A tired resignation at having been proven right.

  “I’ll call Celia,” he offered.

  She hesitated a second, then said, “That’s probably best.”

  And then she hung up. Just like that. Nathan glanced at the phone a second, then shook his head. What in the hell had he expected? An invitation to join her at the Stool Pigeon for a drink? Judging from the background noise, that was where she’d been when he called her.

  Nathan pocketed his phone and considered his options. To go home he’d need to catch the subway. There was a stop near the Guggenheim. He started to head for it, but noticed a taxi with the light on headed his way. He raised his hand, and when the driver pulled over, he hurried inside.

  “West Seventy-ninth and Columbus.”

  As the driver swung onto the Transverse Road through Central Park, the world seemed to darken. Cocooned in the backseat Nathan dialed Celia.

  “Sorry to phone so late.”

  “It’s okay, Nathan. I’m glad to hear from you.”

  Her voice was soft and honeyed and he realized she might be making the wrong assumption about this call. “I have something important to tell you about your father.”

  “My father?” Her tone sharpened. “I can’t talk here. I’m at a party. Hang on a moment.”

  He heard background noises, footsteps, then a door closing. When Celia spoke again from the reverberation of her voice he guessed she had sought sanctuary in a restroom.

  “Nathan, what are you talking about? I told you to leave my dad alone.”

  “Consider this a favor from a friend. I thought you should know that your father just went up to that penthouse apartment with his lover. Do you know if your mother is still planning to join him for the weekend?”

  “Yes, she is. And so what if he’s meeting with that nasty redhead? He’s probably telling her that the affair is over.”

  Nathan pulled out his camera and reviewed the pictures. “Didn’t look that way to me. Do you want to see the photos?”

  “You spied on my dad and took pictures, too?”

  He couldn’t understand her anger. “You’re the one who hired me to do just that.”

  “I wanted you to help my mom. And the best thing for her is if she and Dad reconcile.”

  It would be the best thing for Celia, too, he realized. She wanted nothing more than for her life to return to normal and this whole ugly mess to disappear. And here he was, bursting her bubble.

  “I’m sorry. I wish I could agree that your Dad is sincere about the reconciliation, but I’m afraid it’s some kind of trick. We need to warn your mother. If you want, I’ll call her.”

  “Don’t you dare talk to my mother. Don’t talk to any of us. You are not on this case anymore. Remember that, Nathan.”

  For the second time that night a woman hung up on him. He glanced out the window. The cab was just pulling up to the Stool Pigeon now. At night the bar didn’t look as old and run-down as it did during the day. Still, he didn’t think anyone would mistake it for anything other than what it was—a neighborhood hangout.

  He paid the driver, who accepted the generous tip as his due, then stepped out to the street. Time to face some more rejection. But before he did, he was going to call Audrey Burchard. Despite Celia’s orders, he didn’t feel he had a choice.

  Audrey sounded distracted when she answered the phone, but her voice turned cheerful when she realized it was him.

  “Nathan. How are you?”

  “I’m fine thanks. I assume Celia told you Lindsay Fox and I are no longer working on your case?”

  “She did.”

  “So I’m just calling as a friend, wondering how you’re doing.”

  “That’s so sweet. I’m fine. I’m continuing with my regular therapy sessions, though it isn’t helping. I still can’t remember shooting Maurice. And speaking of Maurice, he’s told me he’s interested in a second chance.”

  “Celia mentioned something about that.”

  “We’re going out to our lodge for the weekend to spend some time together. He’s picking me up at six tomorrow.”

  “How do you feel about that?”

  She sighed. “I’m not sure. I’d love to turn the clock back on this whole messy affair. But that’s not really possible, is it?”

  “You shouldn’t go if you don’t feel comfortable.”

  “But I owe it to him. And to Celia.”

  “Audrey.” He hesitated, then decided he had no choice. “What if I told you that Maurice is having an affair?”

  For a moment she was quiet. Then she sighed again. “I’m not surprised. I suspected as much.”

  “What will you do now?”

  “It doesn’t change anything. Not really.”

  “But—he’s cheating.”

  “Righteous anger is fine for someone young, with their life in front of them. But I’m in my fifties, Nathan. Most of my life has been spent with this man. We have a child together.”

  “So you’re still going to go with him tomorrow?”

  “It may come to nothing…but yes. I’m still going to try.” Her tone changed, became brighter. “Thank you so much for calling, Nathan. I’m still rather regretful that things didn’t work out between you and Celia.”

  “We were never that serious about each other.”

  “No. I sensed that. And certainly when I saw you with your partner—Lindsay Fox, right?—I could see where your heart truly lay.”

  He groaned. “I was that obvious?”

  She gave a murmur of sympathy. “Things not going well on that front?”

  “That front is stone cold, actually.”

  “Well, don’t give up. If anyone can thaw her out, it would be you. And please don’t worry any more about me. I’m going to be just fine.”

  Nathan disconnected the call, disappointed that he hadn’t been able to talk her out of spending the weekend with Maurice. Nothing about this situation felt right to him. And now he had to face Lindsay. He squared his shoulders, then opened the door to the Stool Pigeon.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  LINDSAY WAS INSIDE, ALL RIGHT, sitting at the bar, watching the World Series game. She had a drink on the counter and was munching on peanuts from a bowl on the bar. He ought to warn her about the bacterial content. Really, the only thing those nuts were good for were squirrels.

  As Nathan stood there watching, an older guy, three seats from Lindsay spouted some abuse at the Yankees’ pitcher. Lindsay promptly put him in his place.

  God, he liked the woman’s style.

  She had her signature drink in front of her, the glass atypically full. Perhaps the peanuts were slowing her down. He approached with caution. With Lindsay you never knew what to expect.

  “Bottom of the ninth?” he asked as he slid onto the stool next to hers.

  She’d been too absorbed in the game to notice him until then. He felt her stiffen and her casual reply came a second too slow.

  “Yeah, and it’s not looking good.”

  “You’re not cheering for the Dodgers?”

  “Why would I? I’m a New York City girl.”

  Her tone, almost belligerent, told him he’d better back off. Any personal information he’d learned about her past—like the fact that she’d grown up in California—he was now to forget. Her boundaries were constricting again, tighter and t
ighter.

  Wendy’s husband, Mark, slid a glass of mineral water in front of him. Nathan stared at the man, bemused. Did this mean he was now considered a regular? Or was this tacit encouragement in his quest to win Lindsay’s heart?

  If so, it was coming too late. He’d officially resigned from that hopeless cause. Now all he wanted was to prevent a disastrous conclusion of the one case they had worked on together.

  “I called Celia,” he said.

  Lindsay kept her gaze on the game. “Was she surprised to find out her dad was still playing around?”

  “She didn’t believe it.”

  “Did you get photos?”

  “She refused to see them. I called Audrey, too, and told her about Paige. She didn’t seem to care. She’s still leaving with him tomorrow at six.” He took a drink of mineral water. “I’m planning to follow them.”

  Lindsay turned away from the TV and eyed him with measured curiosity. “You have a car?”

  “I’m going to rent one.”

  She twisted her glass, revealing a damp ring of condensation, which she wiped away with her thumb. He noticed she still hadn’t taken a sip even though the ice cubes were now slivers. He touched the glass. “What’s with this?”

  “My sister’s worried about me, so I agreed to stop drinking for a month.” She shrugged as if it was no big deal.

  “You’re serious?”

  “Doesn’t it look like I am?”

  What a woman. “You’ve decided to avoid alcohol for a month, so here you are sitting in a bar with your favorite alcoholic drink in front of you. You sure like to make things hard for yourself.”

  “Where else would I hang out? Anyway, back to the case. What do you think Maurice is planning?”

  “I still don’t know,” he admitted.

  “Maybe we’re wrong to be suspicious of Maurice. Maybe we should be worried about Audrey shooting him again, which she may well do now that you’ve told her about his girlfriend.”