When the Storm Breaks

by Heather Lowell

  Sean wondered if she was flirting with him. “I do?”

  She gave him a strange look. “The case?”

  “Oh, yeah. The case.” He paused. “Of course you can call either one of us night or day to talk about the case, or to just—talk. You know how to reach us, right?”

  “I have your card.”

  She continued to study him, curious. As she watched him, she sensed that he was deeply aware of her as a woman. God knew she was intensely aware of him. It was something she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

  Was he here late on a Sunday night for some reason other than just doing his job?

  The phone on the nightstand rang, startling them both. While she talked, he looked at her face in profile, noting the clean line of her small nose, the delicate arch of her cheekbone, and the stubborn thrust of her chin. He wondered what it was about the combination of her features that made her so beautiful to him.

  Sean didn’t realize he was staring until Claire hung up the phone and tilted her head inquiringly at him.

  “Who called?” he asked, hoping he didn’t look as stupid as he felt.

  “Olivia. She’s going shopping tonight and wondered what I wanted. I’ll be staying with her for a couple of days, until I can get a locksmith out to my place.”

  “Good. I don’t like the idea of you being alone right now. Does Olivia have a security system?”

  “She lives in a secured building. You don’t think—”

  “I don’t think anything, except that it would be a good idea for you to stay quiet for a few days and avoid your previous routines. Don’t make your life predictable. Stay with Olivia for as long as you can—it’s just common sense. You can’t always have a guard at your door.”

  “A guard?” Claire’s voice rose.

  He nodded toward the hall and then realized she hadn’t noticed the hospital security guard outside her door. Shit.

  “Since when?” she demanded. “And why?”

  “There’s a guard on this floor checking all IDs. It’s probably just hospital policy.”

  “That’s lame. Try again.”

  He rubbed his neck. “We’re just being cautious, maybe overly so. We don’t know for sure that you’re in any danger.” Just a burning feeling in my gut whenever I think about it.

  Claire looked unconvinced.

  Sean was angry with himself for scaring her. If he’d been thinking straight, rather than drooling over her, he might have handled the situation with a bit more finesse.

  “Why don’t you get some more sleep?” he said, backing toward the door before he stuck his foot in his mouth again. “Sorry I woke you. I didn’t mean to.”

  “Sure. Run away. I’ll sleep great tonight, thanks to you.”

  “Do you want me to stay for awhile?” He felt guilty enough to make the offer, though he hoped sincerely she wouldn’t take him up on it.

  “No. One guard is enough.”

  “Okay. I’ll be in touch.”

  He slid out the door and shut it behind him.

  “Jackass,” Sean muttered to himself as he strode down the corridor. “You really screwed that up.” He’d jumped out of airplanes during his years in the army. He’d faced down armed felons high on crystal meth when he was working the streets. And after twenty minutes with Claire Lambert he was tied up in knots like a horny teenager.

  Distance, that’s what he needed. A lot of distance.

  Chapter 16

  Washington, D.C.

  Monday morning

  Sean dragged a grumpy Aidan through the revolving doors of the office building that housed Camelot Dating Services, Inc. They flashed their badges at the security guard and headed to the elevator.

  “I told you there wouldn’t be a problem,” Sean said. “She’s been here since seven. Some people appreciate the benefits of getting an early start on the day.”

  “Screw you. Some of us were at work until after eleven last night.”

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t get to sleep much before one,” Sean said, “so I don’t want to hear any bitching.”

  “Why were you up that late? And don’t tell me you had a date because I won’t believe it.”

  “No date. I just couldn’t turn my brain off and sleep. I went for a drive instead,” Sean mumbled.

  “How was Claire?”

  Sean blew out an exasperated breath. God only knew how Aidan figured these things out, but he always did.

  Aidan smiled. “Like I said, cousin, I know you. I figure you were at the hospital within half an hour of leaving the station last night.”

  “Smart-ass. For your information, I didn’t get there until after nine,” Sean said.

  “Sneaking in after visiting hours? How shocking. This gets better and better.” Aidan heard Sean grinding his teeth and took pity on him. “Did she remember anything useful?”

  “No. I think the memories are there, but she’s having a tough time dealing with them. She talked about having nightmares, but can’t remember anything when she wakes up. Maybe she doesn’t want to.” Sean shrugged and pressed the button for the eighth floor.

  “The first few days after something like this are rough.” Aidan narrowed his eyes as old memories of his own came to the surface. “She might need counseling or something.”

  “Jesus, don’t say that to her. I suggested it and she almost took my head off. Says she’ll be just fine without any shrink prying into her dreams.” Sean stepped off the elevator and turned toward Camelot’s offices.

  “I told you, she’s a tough one,” Aidan said. “She’ll work it out.”

  “How can you possibly know that?”

  “Come on, you know I can read people. Besides, anyone can see Claire’s got a backbone of steel inside that incredible body of hers.”

  “Even steel will bend or snap under the right kind of pressure,” Sean said. Then he stopped dead as the rest of Aidan’s words sank in. He grabbed his partner’s arm. “You’re not interested in her.”

  “Nah, I have a feeling she’s already taken. Doesn’t mean I can’t admire a smart and pretty lady, though.” Aidan’s voice was cheerful.

  “She’s not taken. I told you, the preliminary investigation didn’t turn up any boyfriend.”

  “How anyone as smart as you can be so thick about women is a complete mystery to me.”

  Aidan pushed past Sean and opened the door to Camelot’s offices. He smiled in a friendly way at the young man behind the receptionist counter. “Detectives Burke and Richter here to see Afton Gallagher.”

  The kid’s eyes widened as he carefully studied Aidan’s badge.

  “Afton is in her private office with her babies right now. I don’t usually disturb her when she’s there. You know—breast-feeding.” The kid made a face.

  “Right.” Aidan leaned over the desk in a friendly way. “Maybe you could call her extension or something, see if the coast is clear.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Everyone seemed to open right up to his partner, Sean thought. Somehow, during interviews and in the field, Aidan always got to play good cop to Sean’s bad cop. When he occasionally protested this arrangement, Aidan always pointed out that Sean did a lousy good cop when dealing with suspects. Something about his intensity put people off.

  Within a few minutes the two detectives were being shown down a hall. A tall woman with short blonde hair was standing in an open doorway, looking toward them curiously.

  “Hello, I’m Afton. I have no idea why you’re here, but please come in.” She stepped aside and showed them into the room.

  Introducing themselves, Sean and Aidan walked past her. Though the sign on the door indicated that this was a “private office,” the room looked more like a set from Sesame Street than a place of business. Fanciful pastel drawings of animals and fairy-tale characters decorated the yellow walls, and there were toys scattered on the floor. An oversize crib was pushed into the corner underneath a mobile of the solar system. A rocking chair sat nearby, next to a bookcas
e filled with oversized picture books.

  Two infants lay in the middle of the floor, comfortably stretched out on a thick green blanket. As Sean and Aidan entered, the babies tracked the sounds and turned their heads to the newcomers.

  “Twins!” Aidan said, taking the lead in putting Afton at ease. “You’re a brave woman.”

  Sean made no comment, merely squatted down next to the babies and picked up a stuffed animal to get their attention. He knew exactly what to do. Over the years he’d been an honorary uncle to half a dozen of Aidan’s sisters’ kids.

  “It’s not like I had a choice, Detective.” Afton smiled, charmed at how comfortable the men seemed to be with her babies. She supposed they must be married with kids of their own, but neither wore a wedding band. When she looked up, she discovered that Detective Burke was discreetly looking at her left hand, too.

  Well, he won’t find anything there, Afton thought.

  “I’d offer you a seat, but there aren’t any in here, unless one of you wants the rocking chair. I’m sorry, but my nanny doesn’t get here until noon, so we’ll have to stay with the boys.”

  “No problem.” Aidan casually sprawled on the floor, drawing the attention of the nearest baby.

  Sean settled himself comfortably as well, keeping a grip on the stuffed animal that was being earnestly gummed by the child at his side. He waited for Afton to decide what to do next.

  She hesitated, then sat on the blanket as well. “These are my sons, Justin and Cameron. They’ll be three months old next week.”

  Sean took in her slender figure and ringless hand. “Business owner and mother of two babies—that’s a lot to handle. I hope their father helps out around the house.”

  “Their father is dead. What can I do for you gentlemen?” Afton’s tone was flat.

  Sean let Aidan jump into the hitch in the conversation while mentally filing away the information for Afton’s file.

  “I’m afraid we’re here to investigate an incident involving at least one of your clients,” Aidan said.

  “Which client? What happened?”

  “Claire Lambert was assaulted after she left here Friday night.” Aidan studied her as he said the words, noting the way she sucked in her breath as her cheeks turned pale.

  “Claire! Is she all right?”

  “She’s just fine, though she has a nasty bump on her head. I think she’ll be leaving the hospital this morning,” Sean said.

  “Jesus. What’s going on in this city? First there’s a murder not ten minutes away, and now I find out that one of my friends was attacked after leaving here.” Afton shook her head and reached out to stroke her hand over first one baby, then the other. “Is it this neighborhood? We just moved the business here four months ago, but maybe I need to find another office building.”

  “Crimes occur everywhere in the city,” Sean said. “This building is as secure as most.”

  “What happened to Claire? Was she robbed, or…” Afton forced herself to voice her greatest fear. “Was it a sexual assault?”

  “We don’t believe it was, and the doctor found no sign—”

  “What did Claire say about it?” Afton interrupted. “I know cops are reluctant to believe the woman, but surely she told you what happened.”

  “Claire doesn’t have any clear memories of the night she was attacked,” Aidan said. “The doctor is hesitant to use the word amnesia just yet, but says it’s not uncommon for a victim of head trauma to forget some or all of the events leading to the time of injury.”

  “That’s where we need your help,” Sean said. “There’s a possibility that the man who attacked her may have some kind of connection to your dating service.”

  Guilt flooded Afton. “My God. I’m the one who talked her into this.”

  “How long have you known her?” Aidan asked.

  “About six months. Claire’s company hired Maura—my sister—to host several corporate events called Meet and Greet Mixers.”

  “Meet and what?” Aidan asked.

  “You know, a sort of cocktail party after work where a firm’s employees socialize with members of our dating service. Mostly the women members.”

  “Come again?” Sean asked.

  “I’m sorry. I’m not being very clear, am I?” She ran a hand through her short blonde hair. “I just—I just feel so bad that I nagged Claire into this whole dating mess.”

  “Start from the beginning and take your time,” Aidan said.

  “Okay.” She blew out a breath. “Most dating services have more female clients than male ones. My sister was always looking for creative ways around that problem. It turns out that lots of high-tech companies have many more male employees than female ones. Due to the technical nature of their jobs, many of these male employees are, um, introverted.”

  Aidan snorted, thinking of the geeks on the Police Department’s IT staff. Sean glared at him.

  Afton pressed on. “So Maura developed this plan to combine the two groups—she convinced some of the area firms that Camelot could host cocktail parties and invite only our female clients. The high-tech firms would invite their male programmers and technicians, and everyone could get acquainted in a casual environment. It was a brilliant plan, and the parties were lots of fun.”

  “But how did you meet Claire?” Sean asked.

  “She’s an account manager at her firm, and she leads a whole team of male programmers and technical experts. She sort of came along for moral support—you know, to act as an icebreaker. She was also the person who convinced her firm to sign up for the meet and greet parties in the first place. She told her management that the company had to offer unique and interesting benefits if they were going to hang on to their technical employees. After a while, we became friends.”

  “Do you still host these parties?” Aidan asked. The baby nearest him began to fuss, so he moved a toy within reach.

  “No. With the bursting of the tech stocks bubble, many of our participating companies either went under, laid off their employees, or cut back dramatically on benefits and expenses. A lot has changed since my sister’s time.” Afton smiled sadly. “It’s a whole new world out there.”

  “Did she sell you the business?” Sean asked.

  “No, I inherited everything after she died two months ago. Leukemia.”

  “I’m sorry. To lose a husband and sister…this must be a very difficult time for you.” Sean’s sympathy was genuine.

  “I’ve never been married, but it was still hard. As for my sister, she was sick and in pain for over a year. She was ready when the time came, even though we weren’t.” Afton’s eyes filmed with tears, which she blinked back.

  “Anyway, Camelot is Maura’s legacy, and I work very hard to keep things as she would have wanted them.”

  “We don’t want to add to your burden,” Sean said. “But we do need you to help us find out if Camelot is somehow involved with the attack on Claire.”

  The baby next to him began to fuss as well—Cameron, he thought. He picked up a rattle to distract him.

  “It’s almost feeding time,” Afton murmured.

  “We won’t be much longer, just a couple more questions,” Sean assured her. “If you could tell us what happened during Claire’s appointment last Friday, that would be a big help.”

  “Claire’s appointment started late, about seven. It was her first visit as a client, so we had a lot of paperwork to go through. She had to fill out several lengthy questionnaires on our computer system and provide detailed background information on herself.”

  “Can we see what she filled out?” Aidan asked.

  “Member records are confidential, unless Claire is willing to release them. I can show you some blank questionnaires if you think that would help.”

  “Okay, so what did you do after the question-and-answer session?” Sean asked.

  “My mother works with me. We both spent some time helping Claire write a brief biography about herself. This will appear with her photo in our on
line catalogue. And yes,” she added, before they could ask, “access to the catalogue is confidential and limited to members as well.”

  “And then?” Sean prompted.

  “Then we spent several hours looking through our catalogue of male clients. We explained the system to Claire, then showed her how to search and sort candidates and their photos based on her preferences.”

  Sean came to attention. “Do you have the results of any of her searches? We can get a court order if necessary.”

  Afton looked unhappy at the thought of the police going through Camelot’s files. “Claire, being Claire, decided not to use any sort criteria. She just started with the beginning of the alphabet and worked through to the last male candidate. She’s very thorough. It took her until after eleven to finish the whole catalogue.”

  Sean thought quickly. If they could get a copy of everything they could cross match against the national criminal database and flag any Camelot members who had criminal records. “What format do you use for your files?”

  “We use a database that was developed exclusively for Camelot. I can give you the name of our software consultant.”

  Afton picked up Cameron as the baby’s fussing began to increase in volume. Justin also began to get restless, so Aidan jostled him gently, trying to distract him with strokes and pats.

  Sean spoke over the sounds of unhappy babies. “What is the exact procedure you use to screen a new member?”

  “Just as I explained to you. Claire’s first visit was pretty typical. Once the new client leaves, we take their detailed background information and give it to a private investigator we have on retainer. They run a basic check for criminal records, credit history, that kind of thing.”

  Sean nodded. No help there.

  “What does all this have to do with Claire being attacked?”

  Sean hesitated, looked at his partner, then answered. “Claire remembers very little from last Friday night, but she did get a brief look at her attacker. She had a very strong impression that she’d seen the man before in a photograph—she’s very certain about that. Camelot is the only place she can imagine having looked at photos recently, so we’re checking it out.”