by Leanne Tyler
“Right.” She slipped on her smart, navy suit jacket that went with the navy pencil skirt she wore with a sleeveless, collarless white blouse that opened in a pleated V-neck. Her navy two-inch heels finished her ensemble with a navy satchel bag containing her resume and business cards, as well as her purse items.
“What if I bomb this?” she said as they walked out the door. She shakily locked it before slipping the key in her bag.
“Don’t talk like that. You’ve got this. We’ve practiced for the last two days on every possible interview question that could be asked. You did great for me.”
“That’s because you really weren’t the interviewer.”
“Carly, you’re incorrigible.” Brand took her hand and grinned as they went outside.
“I see our private dick is still here.”
“Yep. He can’t take the hint to get lost.”
“Oh well.” Carly stepped closer to Brand planning to kiss him on the cheek to give Ragsdale something to really photograph. But Brand turned toward her, and the kiss landed on his lips instead. He pulled her to him and returned the kiss far longer than she ever would have imagined for the private eye’s benefit, before breaking away.
She blinked, trying to find her breath for a moment as he opened the SUV door. Instead of sitting up front with the driver, whom she’d learned was Kevin Petree, a rookie detective, Brand followed her into the back and rode to the interview beside her. He didn’t say a word about the kiss or why he’d kissed her that way in return, so she decided not to mention it either.
“I will get out at the corner so I can enter the building separate from you. Hopefully, the sidewalk will be crowded enough that no one will notice we both exit the same vehicle.”
“Surely they won’t.” She glanced over and saw he was texting on his phone. “Any news on Colleen or Jules?”
“Not a peep from either Kincaid or McLeod. I have to assume that means things are going well on their end. Donovan has been quiet as well, which is a blessing since we both know your friend Simone comes across as a handful.”
Carly giggled, recalling the last thing her friend said to her before they’d parted ways on Saturday. “Donovan may be tied up and not able to contact you if Simone has had her way with him.”
“Had her way with him?” Brand said the words still looking at his phone then he looked up. “Shit. You don’t think she has a pair of those furry handcuffs do you?”
“She might have more than that, knowing Simone.”
Brand groaned, putting his phone down. He turned in the seat, facing her. “Carly, you shouldn’t put those wicked thoughts in my head as to what your friend might have done to my guy. He may be in serious danger over there.”
“Or he may be deliriously happy.”
Brand’s brow creased as if he was thinking hard on that for a moment. “Jules isn’t like that, is she? I shouldn’t worry about McLeod?”
“No. She might get him drunk on single-malt scotch, her favorite drink when she is brooding, but she isn’t anything like Simone. And you know that Kincaid is probably still at the hospital with Colleen unless they have released her. You haven’t heard anything on that?”
“No.” Brand swiveled back around and relaxed beside her for a few miles before he started sending anxious texts.
Carly bit her bottom lip and tried not to laugh. It was endearing how worried he was about his men. She finally reached her hand over and took his, giving it a squeeze. “I’m sure they’re fine.”
He gave a soft, throaty grunt.
All too soon, the SUV slowed and pulled over to the corner. “This is me. Good luck up there.” Brand got out and closed the door.
The driver pulled away from the curb, drove to the front of the building where Carly was going, before stopping again. “Have Brand call when you are ready to be picked up.”
“Will do, Kevin. Thanks.” She slid toward the door before opening it to get out. She straightened her clothes, took a deep breath, and crossed the pedestrian traffic, then entered the building.
Her heels made clunking sounds on the marble floor as she walked toward the bank of elevators. She waited for Brand to catch up with her before she pressed the up button. Scanning the marque on the wall, she looked for her destination, Stella Stone Interior Designs.
They boarded with several other business-clad men and women and rode in silence to the twelfth floor. Carly didn’t look at him. She was afraid she would lose her nerve for the interview or ask him about the kiss back at her apartment building. She quickly pushed that out of her mind, not having time to think about what it meant now. She was almost certain she was going to make it into more than it was anyway. Even if her body sure had felt like it meant more the way she’d come alive, but she didn’t have time to think about that. No. Not right now. Focus on the job interview. Focus.
Oh, whom was she kidding? The man was sex in a suit and she’d been living with him for days in her tiny little apartment. Showering where he showered and when she was in there, she was beginning to feel like Simone. Having all sorts of naughty thoughts and imagining what she could do with those furry handcuffs.
Finally, the elevator pinged the twelfth floor. As soon as the doors slid open, Carly was out of there like it was the starting gate opening at the Kentucky Derby. She thought she heard the low rumble of Brand’s chuckle behind her, but she didn’t care. Her interview awaited. The further she was from him and his intoxicating cologne the better.
Brand watched Carly go up to the receptionist and give her name while he settled in the waiting area. He took out his cell phone and pretended he was where he needed to be. She was as fidgety as a kitten for some reason and he didn’t know why. They’d prepped and he was certain she’d nail this interview. But it was an interview and everyone dealt with stress differently. Like that kiss earlier. He’d only meant to give her a peck on the cheek for good luck, but instead, it had turned out to be a lot more. That in itself could be why she was acting the way she was, though she had kissed him back. So it made sense she’d planned to kiss him as well for a show for Ragsdale? And it backfired on them both.
Boy had it backfired.
He glanced up from his phone and watched as Carly took a seat across the space from him. She sat, crossed her legs and showed off plenty of knee as her skirt rose with the movement. She was busy rearranging her jacket and didn’t notice the rise of her skirt. Oh, now she did and she caught him watching. He saw some color flood her cheeks before he looked away.
His phone pinged. It was a message from Hawkeye.
Funeral services for Pied Piper bartender tomorrow. 11 a.m. at Christ’s Church on Hollandale if Carly still wants to come. Police will be in full force.
Thanks. Will let her know. At interview now. Over.
A door opened off the side of the open floor plan and a woman came out, “Carly Manning.”
He watched as she stood, smoothed out her skirt, and secured the shoulder strap of her satchel. She walked toward the woman exchanging pleasantries with her.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Manning. I’m Stella Stone.” The brown-haired woman shook her hand. “Please follow me to my office.”
Carly followed her down a long corridor with framed monochromatic photographs of design projects on the wall. Finally, they came to the woman’s office and went inside. It was large, with a glass desk, leather chair, and matching leather guest chairs. Three of the four walls were white; the other was a bank of floor to ceiling windows, which let in ample lighting.
“Please, have a seat. I was very impressed with your interview materials even though you haven’t had the job experience of our other applicants since you graduated with your degree. Your application letter explained why, but I’d like to hear more about that if you don’t mind. Was it truly your choice when you married?”
Carly took the seat she was offered. “No. I had to pass up several excellent job offers because my husband informed me after the wedding he wanted me ded
icated to supporting him and his career. At first, it looked like a fulfilling stepping-stone to raising our family, but that wasn’t in the cards. Turns out he didn’t want a family. That would have taken me away from devoting all my time to him.”
“I see. And is that why the marriage ended?”
“I’m sorry. I’m not sure I see the relevance of why my marriage ended and these interview questions?”
The woman smiled. “Curiosity really. I’m trying to figure out why anyone’s ex-husband would go to the lengths he has to make sure you get this job. He has called me not once, but twice this week to ensure that you have a glowing recommendation from him. He wanted to make sure you got this job.”
“Justin Porter has been in contact with you?” Carly clutched her satchel tightly in her lap. She swallowed hard, her mouth feeling dry. There was a sickness in the pit of her stomach and she found it difficult to breathe. “I-I don’t understand how he even knew I had applied for a job here, let alone that I was interviewing today. I only learned recently he has a P.I. watching my apartment building. Now to discover he knew about this interview is too much. My ex-husband is a very controlling man, Ms. Stone. If he has already contacted you, he will feel he has a right to watch me if I get this job. As much as I’d love to work here for you,” Carly paused for a moment, shaking her head and standing up. “I’m sorry. I don’t think we can finish this interview.”
“Let’s not act too hasty, Ms. Manning.” Ms. Stone rose as well. “I can assure you, I’d never report back to your ex-husband no matter what he tried. That is not the reason I even brought it up, so you can put that worry to rest. As I see it, there is no reason that you can’t work here in the future after you have gained more experience. For now, I’d like you to consider working with another designer I know to get some experience first. Build up your portfolio. I took the liberty of recommending you to her.”
“You did?”
Ms. Stone nodded, reaching for a framed photo on her desk. “She’s my daughter and in a similar relationship that you have gotten out of, but she won’t see reason from her mother. They are not married but engaged. If you can help her see the mistake she is about to make before she does marry him, that will be wonderful.”
“But how did you know that is what I’d been through?”
“History repeats itself, Ms. Manning. I was in an abusive relationship at one time and now my daughter is in one. I have never shared that time in my life with her because I never wanted her to know the truth about her father. He died when she was very young. I didn’t want it to taint her memory of him. He was ill and the illness caused his abuse, or at least we believed that was the cause back then. I was certain when I read your application that was what I was reading between the lines. When your ex-husband started calling, it confirmed my suspicion for me at least. I wanted to hear it from your lips first.”
Ms. Stone set down the picture frame and picked up a business card. “Here is my daughter’s card. Brittany will be expecting a phone call from you. I’d be careful where I made the call from.”
Carly nodded, stood, and took the card. “Thank you.”
Slipping the card in her satchel, Carly hurried from the office, down the corridor, and out into the waiting room. She didn’t bother glancing in Brand’s direction as she left the office. She was pacing in front of the bank of elevators taking deep, calming breaths when he joined her.
“Carly, what is wrong? What happened in there?”
She looked up at him. “Justin Porter.”
“Porter? I don’t understand.”
“He knew. Somehow, he knew I was interviewing here. He called her. He wanted to give her a glowing recommendation for me.” Dropping her satchel, she shook her hands in front of her and huffed in and out. “I’ll never be safe living here. I need to leave Chicago. I need to go somewhere far, far away.”
Brand stepped into her personal space and pulled her to him. “Sh-h-h, it’ll be okay. Porter will not lay a hand on you.”
Carly was too quiet on the ride back to her apartment for Brand’s liking. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but at least he’d gotten her to stop talking about leaving the city for now. She had to testify for Hawkeye in the murder trial first, but once that was over, Brand would take her to Montana if that was where she wanted to go. If she wanted to go away with him.
Whoa! What was he even thinking? As soon as this case was over, he was certain the woman would be glad to be as far away from him as she could get. Why would she even want to be around another male after the way Justin Porter had treated her?
Damn. She even had him referring to her ex-husband by his full name.
The SUV slowed to a stop in front of Carly’s apartment and he opened the door to get out from behind the driver. He noticed right away that Ragsdale’s car sat across the street, but the P.I. wasn’t in it. That alarmed him. He leaned back in and spoke to Petree. “Do you mind parking and coming up with us. I might need back up.”
“Sure thing, Brand.”
“What’s going on?” Carly asked, coming alert for the first time since they got in the SUV.
“I’m not sure. Stick close to my side and do what I say without question. Got it?”
She nodded, getting out on her side of the SUV and closing the door.
Brand hurried around the front of the vehicle and ushered her inside the building. They waited on Petree to join them before proceeding upstairs.
“Take off those heels,” Brand ordered.
“What?”
“Do you want to announce to whoever might be upstairs that we’re coming? You can hear the clicking of those shoes a mile away on the marble tile flooring in this building.”
“Oh.” She picked the shoes up and slipped them into her satchel.
When Petree joined them, they took the stairs instead of the elevator so their arrival wouldn’t be broadcast. Brand led the way with Carly in the middle and Petree covered her six. There was no way anyone was going to get to her without taking one of them out first.
Ragsdale was picking the lock to her apartment when they reached the landing to her floor.
“Hold it right there,” Brand said.
The man halted.
“Step away from the door.”
“This isn’t what it looks like.” Ragsdale held his hands up in surrender. He was wearing latex gloves so he wouldn’t leave fingerprints behind. “I was listening to surveillance when I heard something suspicious going on inside. I came up to make sure no harm was going to come to the lady. I’m hired to watch her and not let anything happen to her.”
“So Justin Porter had you bug my apartment?” Carly said. “And you think that makes it all right? You think you can listen into private conversations and it doesn’t mean anything? That you aren’t violating people by doing it?”
Without warning, Carly ran toward the man so fast Brand had a split second to holster his weapon and catch her around the waist before she leapt onto Ragsdale.
“Let. Me. Go.” She twisted in his arms, fighting against him with all her might. Her face was tinged red and her arms were reaching toward Ragsdale as if she wanted to claw his eyes out.
Her bottom wiggled against his groin in a provocative manner and all he wanted to do was drop her, but he didn’t dare for fear she would do Ragsdale bodily harm. He’d never seen her so angry.
“Hold it, Carly. Let’s hear the man out. If he says he heard something inside your apartment then we should check it out. ”
“But why’s he picking the lock?” Petree asked.
“Good question.” Carly jabbed her elbow into Brand’s solar plexus and he grunted, letting her go in reflex. “How’d this imaginary someone get inside if you have to pick the lock?”
Brand watched, ready to move into action again but Carly kept her emotions in control, questioning the P.I. instead of attacking him.
“They were careful and locked the door back when they left,” Ragsdale said. “Listen, I was a city de
tective for many years. I’ve seen it all before. Break-ins that didn’t look like anyone had been there. This is one of them. I’m sure of it.”
“Then let’s see for ourselves.” Carly fished her keys out and unlocked the door. She turned the knob and pushed on the door, which was reluctant to budge. She looked back at Brand and he stepped forward, giving it a shoulder push to open on what looked like a warzone. The living room furniture turned over. Bar stools here and there. She dropped her satchel by the door and before Brand could stop her, she wandered further into the apartment.
The pantry door was open. Cans of food had been tossed onto the floor. Her few dishes were broken into pieces.
Brand saw her bottom lip begin to tremble as she picked up the mismatched plates that were no more and held them close to her chest. She’d taken such pride in those plates.
Ragsdale walked into the kitchen. “Do you hear hissing?”
“What?” Brand turned toward the P.I.
“Hissing. That is what I kept hearing on the surveillance after it got quiet in here. I couldn’t tell what was going on but I knew something bad was going down.”
“I’m calling this into Commander Burns,” Petree said.
“Thanks.” Brand crossed over to where Carly stood. He tried to take the broken dishes from her, but she wouldn’t let go of them. A single tear had started streaming down her face, so he backed off, afraid if he tried to comfort her the flood gates would open and she’d break down for sure.
“There it is again,” Ragsdale said. “Did you hear it that time?”
Brand pivoted and nodded. “Is it coming from the kitchen?”
The other man stepped carefully around the debris on the floor, going deeper into the tiny workspace. He peered into the sink and then recoiled. “Oh my God.”
“What is it?”
“Snakes. Two cobras. The calling card of the Twin Cobra gang.”
A whimper escaped from Carly and Brand turned to see her sinking to the floor. How in the hell had that gang found her so fast?