To Catch a Bad Guy (Book One of the Janet Maple Series)

by Marie Astor

While on his way to Janet Maple’s office, Dennis Walker was thinking of a pretext for stopping by. He would start on a light note – something along the lines of Monday blues, and from there he would progress to having a drink after work. Ordinarily, he would have waited until the office party that was to take place on Thursday, but with the new condensed timeframe given to him by his boss, time was a luxury Dennis did not have.

  He was just about to stroll into Janet’s office when he heard her voice coming through the doorway. She was on the phone. A little eavesdropping never hurt anybody. He pressed his back against the wall and strained his ear to hear Janet’s conversation. It would not do to get caught red-handed, so in case anyone were to pass by, he had a manila folder filled with important-looking office papers loosely positioned in his hand, ready to drop to the floor at any moment.

  “Hey, Katie. Yes, it was pretty awful. Yes, Andrew was there – Lisa’s horny, geeky cousin. Yes, I’d love to have a drink after work – six o’clock sounds great.”

  Where? Dennis thought desperately. Six o’clock where?

  “Perfect. I’ll see you at the Blue Orchard at six.”

  Dennis heard the sound of the telephone receiver being replaced and tiptoed down the hall. When it came to establishing contact, accidental encounters were so much better than arranged dates.

  Dennis Walker arrived at the Blue Orchard at five-thirty. He figured that would give him enough time to get a spot by the bar and find a pretty girl to chat up. If his plan were to work, he had to look like he actually had a reason to be there other than stalking Janet. He loosened his tie and hung his shabby suit jacket over the back of his chair. This Dean Snider routine was getting tiresome. Well, at least he was wearing a decent shirt, and his natural charm would just have to compensate for the rest of his appearance. However, the fake glasses went into Dennis’s jacket pocket. Dean Snider’s drab persona had not gotten him very far, and since his boss had just upped the stakes, Dennis Walker was going to change the rules and infuse some much-needed swagger into Dean Snider.

  Dennis eyed the bar crowd, skimming past the usual suit types and eagerly smiling career women who accompanied them. He soon found what he was looking for – a pretty blonde by the other side of the bar. She was typing on her Blackberry intently, no doubt simply keying in gibberish while she waited for her friends to arrive so as not to appear unoccupied. Dennis slunk off his chair and made his way to where the girl was sitting. As he approached her chair, Dennis got a quick glimpse of her Blackberry screen. His hunch had been correct; the screen was filled with meaningless lines of letters and numbers. He pulled the chair next to the girl, but she was too intent on trying to look busy to notice him.

  “Apple martini,” Dennis said.

  “Excuse me?” the girl’s tone was chilly.

  “Your favorite drink – it’s apple martini, isn’t it?”

  The blonde’s eyes widened. “How did you guess?”

  “I have a gift.” Dennis grinned. This was ridiculously easy. He signaled to the bartender. “Two apple martinis, please.”

  The girl put her Blackberry away and eyed him appraisingly. Dennis watched her eyes linger undecidedly over his jacket, grow warmer on his shirt, and finally flash with approval upon reaching his face. He was a handsome-looking fella, even if he did say so himself.

  “To unexpected encounters.” Dennis raised his drink.

  “To pleasant unexpected encounters.” The girl ingested the majority of her drink in one gulp.

  Dennis took a tentative sip. He sincerely hoped that he had not been mistaken in his mark. A loud drunken scene would ruin his plan. “And may I ask what a pretty girl like yourself is doing all by herself in a bar?”

  “Who said I was by myself? I could be waiting for my boyfriend,” the girl added playfully.

  Dennis relaxed. He had not been mistaken after all. His plan was to flirt with the blonde long enough for Janet to notice him. Once the blonde’s date would arrive, Dennis would safely excuse himself and exhibit great surprise at running into Janet, saying something to the effect of this being a small world. “Secretive, huh? Well, may I at least know your name?”

  “Summer.”

  “That’s a beautiful name. I’m Dean.”

  “No, it isn’t. My mom was a rock star groupie and I think she was high when she named me.” Summer finished the rest of her drink. “Do you believe that people’s names determine their destinies?”

  “I can’t say that I do,” Dennis replied distractedly. His attention was occupied by the sight of Janet Maple walking into the bar. Her usual no-nonsense business suit and put-up hair made her stand apart from the rest of the women with their décolletage and tangled manes.

  “Well, I think it does. Take me for example. My name is Summer. What does Summer stand for? Crazy, fun time, which is exactly what men want from me, and once they get it, they just keep on moving along. Do you know that I’ve never been in a relationship that lasted longer than a month? That is if you can even call a one-month affair a relationship.”

  “I’m sure you could call it that,” Dennis conceded.

  “And you were right,” Summer burst out. “I am here alone because my date bailed.”

  Dennis blinked, unsure of how to react to Summer’s candidness. Truth be told, he didn’t really care. By now, Janet Maple had been joined by a friend – a tall, lanky redhead. What Dennis really wanted to do was to eavesdrop on their conversation, which was impossible due to yet another flaw in what was now turning out to be a hastily and poorly designed plan: he had expected Janet and her friend to sit by the bar, but the two women chose to sit at a table instead. The only solution was to quickly disengage himself from Summer and think of a way to join Janet and her friend.

  Summer kept droning on, and Dennis was starting to lose his patience.

  “Take my mother for example, she has been married three times, and each time she changed her last name. No wonder she has no direction in life. I mean, how could she possibly become her own person? She’s had so many last names, it’s dizzying!” Summer’s voice grew dangerously acrimonious. “You’re not really listening to me, are you?”

  “Yes, I am listening,” Dennis replied distractedly. He really could not care less about what Summer thought. He had noticed Janet and her redheaded friend glance at him surreptitiously and whisper excitedly afterwards, and he wanted to know what they were saying about him.

  “What did I just say then?” Summer demanded.

  “Excuse me?” Dennis nearly snorted his drink through his nostrils. This was getting perilously ridiculous.

  “You heard me. What did I just say?” Summer placed her hands on her hips.

  Dennis tried to bring Summer’s exact words to memory, but failed – she had been babbling something about her mother… “Your mother has been married three times,” Dennis finally remembered.

  “Is that fella bothering you, sweetheart?” A middle-aged playboy squeezed his trim body next to Summer’s chair.

  “He’s doing quite the opposite; he’s ignoring me.”

  “A beautiful girl like you? How’s that possible?”

  “Yes, he is.” Summer pouted, no doubt hoping to elicit jealousy from Dennis, a ploy that under normal circumstances might have worked, but now it only provided a much-needed means of escape.

  “I’m afraid I was,” Dennis admitted. “But I’m sure a gentleman such as yourself will appreciate Summer for the entertaining conversationalist that she is. Summer, it was a pleasure meeting you.” Dennis tossed two twenties on the bar stand, and, without waiting for a response from Summer, he started to make his way to Janet’s table. His face had already assumed an expression of surprise at running into a coworker so unexpectedly: it was a small world indeed.