Climatized

by Sally Fernandez

  She bounded up the front steps, balancing packages in both hands, and glared into the peephole. Once she heard the click, she freed up one hand and opened the door. She was elated to feel the rush of cool air coming from inside. Quickly, she dropped the shopping bags in the foyer and closed the door behind her. At once, the smell of fresh paint stung her nostrils, but it was of no consequence. Her newly renovated Victorian townhouse was finally ready to occupy.

  The once elegant forty-foot long living room, with its high ceiling and tall windows, had been stylishly transformed into two office spaces and a reception area. Situated in front of the canted bay windows were two overstuffed sofas facing each other, with a glass coffee table in between them. The table was strewn with magazines, but not the usual outdated “doctor’s office” variety. Max’s clients would most likely find themselves flipping through the pages of Forbes or The Economist. The dining room functioned as a conference room, replete with an oversized Tuscan-style table she had uncovered at a local flea market. The carpet placed under the table had more of a Zen-like quality, with maroon and sage-green colors—not that Max had a Zen bone in her body. But it created the mood she was trying to achieve. The original kitchen remained intact, but multi-functioned as a copy room and storage space for office supplies. Her proudest achievement was converting the upper two stories into a spacious apartment that provided her with ample living space. It had been a long, agonizing decision that brought her to this place, but she could not have been more pleased with the outcome.

  Her plan began to culminate shortly after that deadly night in July when it became clear it was impossible for Max and Noble, her boss, to continue working side by side at the agency. Coupled with their newly minted relationship and the trauma of a gun’s metal barrel pressed against her temple, Max willingly offered to resign. What to do next, she did not know. She had been an analyst, she had been a spy, she had been an investigator, and as deputy director of the SIA she had functioned in all three capacities. But once the fog had lifted from repeated visions of that fatal shooting, she began to think more clearly and to weigh her options. One thing was clear—her inherent penchant for sleuthing needed an outlet.

  For weeks, she and Noble discussed her various options, but in the end he encouraged her to continue to do what she did best—investigate, analyze, and solve. Excited by the newfound possibilities, she began the process to earn her license as a private investigator in the District of Columbia. She assumed that being the former deputy director for the SIA and a field agent for the CIA would pave the way for an easy FBI clearance and registration for a concealed handgun. All her plans were in place. But unfortunately for Noble, his plans to pursue other interests were stymied by Max’s departure. At the behest of the president, Noble agreed to stay on as the director for another year.

  Max walked over and sat down on her new sofa, partially to take a load off her feet and partially to admire her new workplace, until she saw the stack of boxes filled with contents that could no longer be ignored. “Well, they’re not going to unpack themselves!” she sighed. She fastened her hair on top of her head haphazardly, stood up, and dove in. For the next several hours, she placed the massive collection of books on the shelves in their appropriate order, organized her file drawers, and set up other paraphernalia on her desk.

  Thanks to Noble’s skills, the computers and printers had been connected to the Internet with a virtual private network. Stanton handled the security system for the premises, which included using a retinal scanner to open the front door—something he insisted upon. He also loaded double-encryption software that secured both calls and texts into two smartphones: one for Max and one for her new partner. This protocol was all new to Max. For most of her career at both the CIA and SIA she had full built-in protection. But the day she left the agency, she not only had to surrender her top-security clearance; she also had to return her government issued xPhad, a high-tech gadget that was like an appendage to her, to replace it with an ordinary civilian smartphone. Now as a private citizen and considering her new undercover profession, she needed to take all precautions.

  Max was growing weary and was ready to call it a day. She figured her associate could tackle the other office and help her finish up with the supply room in the morning as his first assignment. But before heading upstairs she had one last official act for the evening. She needed to hang out her new bronze shingle with her name etched in prominent letters, another gift from Stanton. First, she needed a screwdriver. Max walked into the kitchen and spotted her girly-looking toolbox sitting on the counter. When she opened the lid, she saw that the gift card was still inside. It brought a smile to her face as she reread the note: It’s time to fix things, other than the world. Love, Noble. “How imaginative,” she said aloud, thinking that Noble and Stanton had co-conspired on their gifts. Then she thought about how they had become quite the threesome over the past few months. Peculiar, considering how it started and the emotions involved.

  Stanton was her ex-lover whom she still admired immensely; she especially admired his coping mechanism after their breakup. Whether he learned it as part of his military training or it was inherent, he never showed remorse and always treated her with tenderness. Strangely, it was Noble who had arranged for Stanton to transfer to Washington and head up the president’s Secret Service detail. Max was still standing in the kitchen, holding the bronze sign in one hand and the screwdriver in the other, when a weird thought entered her mind. Did Noble purposely try to bring Stanton and me together? Was Noble trying to rule out any possibility of a future with me? She tapped her head with the bronze plate, hoping to bring her back to her senses. “Get a grip, Max!” Now armed with the pink-handled tool and the shingle, she headed outside into the stifling air. Fortunately, the blazing heat had cooled a bit as the evening hours set in. In no time flat, she expertly fastened the last screw to the shingle and Ford Investigations was officially open for business. Now all I need are clients was the first thought that popped into her head. When she stepped back to admire her handiwork, she blurted out, “What the hell am I getting myself into?”

  “You’re going to be great!” Noble sounded off, having arrived unexpectedly at her doorstep.

  Startled by the interruption, she turned and waved her new screwdriver in his direction, faking a menacing stare.

  “Whoa!” he cried, as he took a step back.

  “It’s not wise to sneak up on people!” She quickly softened her expression, and admitted, “But it’s a pleasant surprise.”

  “You look like you could use a bite to eat?”

  “You have a real knack for knowing what I need—I’m famished.” She redirected her pink-handled weapon out of harm’s way and moved in to give him a warm hug. At that moment, she noticed the flashing lights in the park. “What’s going on over there?” she asked, even though she assumed he had no way of knowing. Hurriedly, she placed the screwdriver inside the hallway. “Let’s go see.”

  “Max, hang on.”

  “C’mon, it will just take a minute.”

  “You want the reputation of being an ambulance chaser?” He knew it was a lost cause, but he gave it a shot.

  Clasping each other’s hands, they walked across the street and into Lincoln Park. But then Max loosened her grip and headed straight for the police car.

  “Hey, Ray, what’s up?” she asked.

  “Just some poor stiff offed himself.”

  “It must be an important stiff to bring out the Capitol Police Chief. Any I.D.?” Max started to move in closer to where the body lay.

  Noble stayed back and watched her take on the chief. “Sorry, Max,” the chief warned, “not until we inform the next of kin.” He then moved in front of her, blocking her view. But not before Max saw the corpse sprawled out on the park bench. The inflexible arm in rigor angled downward. The gun lay only inches away from his fingertips on the ground.

  As Max studied the scene, Noble became concerned by the strange expression on her face. He
made a mental note to ask her about it later. But evidently his worry was unwarranted.

  Max spun around with her usual gumshoe look and refocused on the chief. “Why all the mystery if it’s just some poor stiff?” The moment the words left her mouth, her antennae started to telescope.

  That expression was familiar. One Noble had seen many times before. He moved in to pull her back.

  “Sorry, Director, but Max no longer has clearance.” The chief was clearly asking Noble to play interference.

  Max refused to be ignored. “Why do I need clearance?”

  “Max, enough,” Noble pressed.

  Grudgingly, she let it go, but only for the moment, and agreed to leave the scene with Noble, foregoing any further interrogation.

  Noble waited until they were safely back inside her townhouse and then cautioned, “Remember, Max, you no longer have the same access to information you once had. You’re going to have to learn to play by a different set of rules. And besides, this isn’t your case.” Giving her no time to respond, he tossed out the question that concerned him most. “Incidentally, what was that look all about?”

  “What look?”

  “When you saw the corpse?”

  “So to what do I owe this impromptu visit?” she asked, hastily changing the subject.

  Noble knew when it was time to back down and obliged for the time being. “I thought it would be nice to have dinner together.”

  “I assumed you’d be having dinner with Paolo tonight?” She knew that Noble often joined his brother-in-law for dinner on Sunday nights and rarely diverted from the boys’ night out.

  “You think only women have the prerogative to change their minds.” He moved in for a seductive kiss and then asked, “How’s steak sound?”

  “Perfect!

  Give me a minute to change.”

  Max went upstairs while Noble waited in the foyer, gazing back at the siren lights through the window. He could see them turning off one-by-one as the cars and the ambulance were leaving the park. When he heard the sound of Max’s heels clomping down the stairs, he pulled his eyes away from the scene.

  “What?” She could not help but notice him eyeing her.

  “You continue to take my breath away, my dear.”

  Max had replaced her shorts and tank top with a miniskirt and camisole. Her hairstyle of choice was a tousled mess of blond hair upon her head, but now it flowed elegantly on her shoulders, erasing all traces of her.

  “Thanks! Give me one more minute to check my emails.” Noble followed Max into her office and watched while she spun through her emails on the touch-screen desktop. “By the way, I stopped by to see Amanda.”

  “Oh,” Max said, trying not to seem too curious as to why.

  “She’s decided to go ahead on the cruise that I’d already paid for. She said it would make her feel better spending my money.”

  “How’s she doing otherwise?” Max appeared mildly interested, but continued to focus on her computer screen.

  “Her nerves are still a little raw since I broke off our engagement, but she said she was thankful that I discovered my feelings for you in time.”

  This time Max could not help but look up.

  “She said it was best that I said ‘I can’t’ before I said ‘I do.’” Noble walked over and gave Max a kiss on the forehead. “I’m glad I discovered it in time as well.”

  Max stopped perusing the screen and stood up, prepared to leave.

  “So what’s going on with Stanton?” Noble thought it was only fair play.

  “He’s fine. He’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. We’ve always been friends and I suspect we always will be. Sweetie, he knew that I was never in love with him.” Max cocked her head and eyed Noble suspiciously. “Why did you go see Amanda, anyway?”

  “No biggie. I simply wanted to wish her a safe trip. And speaking of trips—”

  She cut him off. “Noble! Why now?”

  He quickly flashed her the “stand down” stare. She knew it well and backed off.

  “I’m only planning to be away for a few weeks,” he continued. “My plane leaves in the morning.”

  “You’re really going away?” she asked calmly, refraining from further nagging for the moment.

  “Honey, the president asked me to follow up on something for him. I can’t tell you any more than that, which is probably more than I should have told you in the first place.”

  “You know you can trust me.” On a dime, Max could turn her deep, commanding voice into a seductive tone. But that time her face betrayed her. It equated to a hound dog on a scent.

  “Max!”

  “I liked it better when we worked together. Remember when we were cleared to discuss everything, except of course, your last little escapade?” She smirked.

  Max still did not know what Noble’s disappearing act was about, but she believed it had something to do with the president. It started months before the death of Senator Townsend, when Noble left her at the helm to solve the mysterious attacks on the families of La Fratellanza. Although he checked in periodically, he never acknowledged his whereabouts. Then magically, the day the former First Lady kidnapped her, Noble came out of hiding. It was also the same day the president gave his most compelling speech to the nation, a speech that further economic downturn and stabilized the country.

  “Why now?” she persisted. “I’m just getting established and it would be nice to have you around.”

  “You’ll be fine. Jax starts tomorrow. Rely on him as you have me.”

  Max curled her lip. “Really?”

  “You know what I mean. Jax will be a solid asset. Remember, he still has the means to get information that you’re no longer privy to. And I’m sure by the time I get back you’ll already have your stilettos dug into ominous places.”

  Lightening her mood, she asked, “I thought you were supposed to be spending time looking for your replacement?”

  “I serve at the of the president.” Noble smiled and then asked again, “Dinner? C’mon, let’s go.”

  Max stood back with her arms crossed, eyeing him up and down. “I have a better idea—pizza. But first,” she added with a coquettish grin, “an appetizer.”

  Noble chuckled as she turned around and headed for the staircase leading to her apartment.

  Max felt the gentle movement from under the covers and rolled over as Noble was about to slip out of bed.

  “What time is it?” she asked, stifling a yawn.

  “Four thirty.” He rolled back over and held her in his arms for a moment, but could no longer prolong the inevitable. “Go back to sleep and I’ll call you later.”

  “Why do you have to leave now?”

  “You know I hate goodbyes. Besides, I have to go home to pack and make a few calls. Honey, remember that I love you.”

  “Noble,” she cooed in her sexiest voice as she pulled him back to her side.

  He surrendered, instantly melting in her arms. But when Max felt Noble release his embrace, she knew he was about to leave her.

  Noble moved in for one last kiss. “Go back to sleep,” he whispered, and then left her bed.

  It was five fifteen. He quietly dressed as he gazed at her profile against the pillow. He could see the shape of her slim body under the sheets, producing an insatiable urge to want to climb back in bed with her, but he had no choice. Falling in love with Max was also an irresistible choice he did not have. They had worked closely together for over eight years on sometimes-vexing, oftentimes-dangerous cases. However, when he finally decided to settle down, he looked elsewhere, all the while unconsciously denying his feelings. That was, until he thought he could lose her.

  They mutually agreed to allow their relationship to unfold. Their friendship was rock-solid, but the idea of becoming lovers frightened both of them.

  “What if we screw it up?” Max often asked.

  “We won’t,” Noble always replied. But after several dinners, increasingly passionate kisses, and a deepening relatio
nship, Max invited him to stay the night. The next morning, they pledged their love forever—at least, they hoped it would be forever.

  Chapter 4

  A SHOT IN THE PARK

  The seven o’clock alarm bellowed raucously, but Max remained curled up under the covers, waiting for Noble to silence the intrusion. “Dammit,” she uttered, realizing that he had slipped away hours earlier. She rolled over and slammed down the snooze button with her hand, giving her a few more minutes to wake up. The unwelcome alarm sounded again.

  Resisting further temptation, Max hopped out of bed and threw on a T-shirt that barely reached the top of her thighs and then sauntered into the kitchen. While she waited for her coffeemaker to dole out the last of the caffeine, she decided to walk downstairs to pick up the morning newspaper. As expected, when she opened the front door the paper was lying outside on the top step. She picked it up and flipped it open to view the headlines. “Oh my God!” Max turned and bounded back up the stairs to her apartment. Immediately, she grabbed her smartphone and hit a speed-dial button.

  “Noble, have you seen the morning headline?” Before she gave him a moment to answer she broadcasted, “Senator Spark committed suicide! He was the dead guy in the park!”

  “Explains why the chief was so tight-lipped.”

  “You don’t seem surprised.” Max was taken aback by his tepid response.

  “You yourself assumed it was somebody important because Ray was on the case.”

  “I’m going down to the station to see if I can pry anything out of him today. In any case, what time are you heading out?”

  “Max, it’s not your case,” he reminded her.

  “I repeat what time are you heading out?”

  Noble gave up. There was no point in trying to dissuade her from her insatiable curiosity. “My flight leaves in a few hours. I’ll call you this evening when my plane lands.”