Perfect Partners?

by C. J. Carmichael

  “How about a one-month trial period?” Nathan suggested. “If either one of us isn’t happy, we’ll call it a learning experience and move on.”

  It was a tempting offer. “You still talking about a partnership?”

  “Of course.”

  She shook her head, reluctantly. “I’ve gotten used to working on my own.” She took the last bite of pie, then dug into her leather bag for the envelope he’d given her earlier. “You might as well take this back.”

  “The case didn’t interest you?”

  “Hell, yes, it interested me. But it’s yours. I have no idea how you landed such a plum assignment, but with contacts like yours, why do you need me? You can set up your own business simply enough.”

  “I’m not interested in working alone. You’re already established and I think our skills are complementary. Why not team up and make the most of them?”

  He was making a strong case, but so far neither one of them had mentioned the other reason partnering up again might not be such a great idea. She studied the depths of his warm, brown eyes, and wondered if he’d forgotten about that night.

  If he had, it was probably for the best.

  “Why didn’t you tell me the real reason you left the force?”

  His eyes became guarded, and his mouth tightened. “I figured you’d have read the papers.”

  “I don’t make it past the front page very often. But I happened to be talking to Kate Cooper today and she filled me in. Those hypocrites. I can’t believe they hung you out to dry.”

  “Politics. Lieutenant Rock said not to take it personally.” His laugh was short, and hard.

  “And what did you say to that?”

  “What do you think? I don’t often lose my cool—”

  “I’ll say.”

  He raised his eyebrows at the interruption. “But that day I did.” He allowed a small smile. “Felt damn good, too.”

  “Maybe you’re human after all, Fisher.”

  Wendy came out of the kitchen with a potpie for Nathan. She always wore her dark hair tied back, but one strand usually defied orders and needed to be tucked behind her ear at periodic intervals. Wendy did this now as she hesitated at their table.

  “I recognize you,” Wendy said. “Your picture was in the paper. You’re the cop who shot that rich lawyer’s kid.”

  Resignation, pain, anger…Lindsay wasn’t sure which emotion flashed over Nathan’s face, in the brief instant before he was able to compose himself.

  “That’s me.”

  “The press hung you out to dry, but we weren’t fooled.” She glanced at Mark, who was drying glasses behind the bar, but keeping an eye on them at the same time. “That kid deserved every ounce of trouble you gave him, and then some. So how did things end up for you? You get fired?”

  “No, actually, my name was cleared last week. Then I quit.”

  “Yeah? I didn’t see anything about that in the paper.”

  “The story ran this Wednesday. A short article near the end of the section. I’m not surprised you missed it.”

  Lindsay was appalled. “So they tar and feather you in the headlines, then exonerate you in the back pages? That stinks.”

  Nathan heaved his big shoulders. “That’s life in the fast lane.”

  “Hang on,” Wendy said. “I’m bringing you another mineral water. On the house.”

  Lindsay smiled as she watched Wendy hurry back to the bar. “You sure won her over.”

  Nathan poked his dinner with his fork, then lifted his gaze. “More important—have I won you over?”

  Lindsay hesitated. Despite her reservations, he was wearing her down. “I’ll think about it,” she finally allowed.

  “Think fast,” he said. “This is a time limited offer.”

  AS NATHAN EASED THE DEAD BOLT into position, he heard his sister creep down the stairs.

  “Quiet.” She held a finger to her lips. “Justin finally fell asleep.”

  He nodded, slipped off his shoes, then made his way silently to the kitchen. Mary-Beth followed, going straight for the fridge.

  “Are you hungry? I could whip up a stir-fry with the leftovers from dinner.”

  “I’m starving,” he admitted. The chicken potpie at the dive Lindsay seemed to love had been inedible. He didn’t know how she kept her great figure on such a terrible diet. “But I can make my own dinner. You sit for a minute.”

  “I don’t mind,” Mary-Beth tried to insist.

  “Well, I do. I am the better cook, you know.” It was so not true. He was trying to goad her into retaliating. Maybe even coax a smile from her weary-looking face. But his younger sister just melted into her chair and sank her arms and head to the table.

  “What comes after the terrible twos? Please tell me it’s the terrific threes.”

  “I haven’t got a clue. But Justin isn’t that terrible, as a rule.”

  “Not for you, he isn’t, but lately he fights me on everything. He doesn’t want the blue pajamas, he wants the red ones. He won’t drink his milk, he wants apple juice.” She sighed. “Sometimes I wish…”

  She didn’t finish, but he could guess what she was longing for. She still hadn’t told him why she and her ex-husband, Logan, had broken up, but it was clear that she—and her son—missed the guy.

  “So where were you out so late? Did you have a date?”

  He snorted. “Right.” Since the shooting he hadn’t been in the mood for dating, or even hanging out with friends. Most of his buddies were on the force, anyway. And right now, all he wanted was distance from them.

  “What they did to you wasn’t right, but you can’t be bitter, Nathan. The bullet wounds have healed…you need to let the mental wounds heal, too. Start living your life, again, having fun.”

  Nathan nodded, as if he agreed. But as close as he was to his sister, he’d never expect her to understand. Their dad had been a hero. A real, genuine hero. All his life, Nathan had wanted to live up to that standard. And what had happened?

  His name had been maligned in the headlines of the very paper that had once lauded his father as a hero. Columns that had praised his old man for sacrificing his life to save a stranger had accused Nathan of being a bigot and a coward, shooting without cause based on the color of a kid’s skin.

  He pulled ingredients from the fridge and began chopping. “You’re a fine one to talk about fun. When’s the last time you went on a date?” His sister was a pretty woman and she’d moved out of her husband’s house six months ago. It was time she started living her life again, too.

  “It’s different for me. I have Justin.”

  “He’s a great kid, but you need more.”

  “Eventually I will,” she agreed. “It’s still too soon for me. Logan and I were together for six years.”

  So what happened? He kept his mouth shut, not wanting to probe. He sprayed olive oil into a sauté pan and waited for it to heat.

  “At least I have a job that I love,” Mary-Beth continued, referring to her new teaching position at Columbia University. “Have you thought about what you want to do next?”

  “I’m going to be a professional investigator. Like Magnum P.I.,” he joked, citing the old TV series that his sister had confessed to watching late at night when she’d been breast-feeding Justin.

  Finally a smile cracked his sister’s face. “That sounds great, Nathan. As long as you skip the mustache.”

  She rose from her chair, stretched and yawned. “Early start tomorrow. I’d better get some sleep.”

  “G’ night, sis.” After she’d given him a hug, he turned back to his cooking, tossing the chopped vegetables and tofu into the hot oil.

  Being treated like a criminal had definitely taken the fun out of life. Leaving the force had felt like his only option. But it had also marked the end of a lifelong dream. Since he’d been a young boy, he’d always wanted to be a cop. Now he needed another dream.

  He still wanted to go after the bad guys. But from now on, he was going to pick
the caliber of people he would work with.

  People like Lindsay Fox.

  Maybe she cut corners more than he liked, but she was bright and committed. Best of all, she wasn’t out for personal glory, didn’t take on cases just for some easy money. She cared about making the world a better place. She cared about justice.

  Nathan added spices into the stir-fry and gave it a final toss before sitting down at the table. Eating straight from the pan, he thought about the glimpse into Lindsay’s life he’d had today.

  When he’d seen her ad in the paper, he’d done his research. As well as checking out her clients and her business, he’d dug into her personal life. He knew that she was still single, that she ended most of her days at that greasy pub, knocking back several paralyzers before making her way to her apartment just one block from the office.

  Though she was strikingly attractive, with pale blond hair, translucent skin and hauntingly beautiful blue eyes, she didn’t date much. It seemed her socializing, if you wanted to call it that, centered around the pub he’d visited tonight.

  What kind of life was that for a woman who was just thirty years old? From personal experience, he knew the woman was passionate. So why wasn’t she involved with anyone?

  Ghosts lay in her past, he was sure of that. If they ended up working together again—and he was pretty determined that they would—maybe he would finally find out.

  A week later

  BALANCING HER LEATHER CASE in one hand, and cell phone in the other, Lindsay dodged pedestrians, strollers and dogs, as she made her way down Columbus Street. She’d spent the morning on routine surveillance for an insurance claim, and was now heading back to the office, while attempting to return a call to her sister. Finally Meg’s assistant patched her through.

  “Lindsay?”

  “Hey, Meg. Busy day. You called?”

  “Yeah, I have another job for you. It’s an out-of-town assignment, should take about a week. You interested in an all-expense-paid trip to Florida?”

  Lindsay glanced up at the pewter-colored sky. “Florida sounds like heaven, but I’m too swamped to get away.”

  “I thought you were hiring an extra investigator?”

  “I’m trying. My most hopeful candidate was a university grad with work experience as a waiter. Smart kid, but I just don’t have the time to train someone from scratch.”

  She purposefully didn’t mention Nathan. She hadn’t heard from him since that night at the pub and she was having second thoughts, and third thoughts, against working with him again.

  Lindsay came to a street corner and checked for traffic before hurrying across.

  “Look, I’m almost at the office,” she continued. “Can I call you back later when I have time to talk?”

  “I’m in court the rest of the week. How about we catch up on the weekend?”

  “Sounds good.” Lindsay snapped her phone shut, then rounded the corner to Seventy-ninth Street. Two minutes later she was back at the office. Nadine was typing madly, but paused to give her an update.

  “The billings are on your desk to be signed, your phone messages are here—” she passed over a stack of paper “—and Nathan has moved into the office across from yours.”

  With phone messages in hand, Lindsay was already striding toward her office, when the last part of Nadine’s statement sank in.

  “Nathan has moved in?”

  Nadine nodded. “Is that okay? He said it was okay.”

  Lindsay pivoted, then charged into what should have been an empty office. Sure enough Nathan had made himself at home behind the sleek new desk. He was on the phone, but he smiled and waved at her to come in.

  “What the hell is going on here?”

  He motioned for her to be quiet. “I’m almost finished.”

  “By all means, take your time,” she muttered as she stubbed her toe on a cardboard box sitting on the floor by the empty chair meant for clients. A tan-colored leather briefcase was on the floor beside it.

  “Okay. That’s interesting. I’ll follow up right away,” Nathan promised the person on the other end of the line. Then he hung up.

  He was wearing a white shirt today, emphasizing the golden tone of his skin, the rich mocha of his eyes. When he stood to greet her, the solid bulk of his thighs was clearly visible beneath the dark denim of his jeans.

  “Hey, partner,” he said. “I wondered when you were going to come and welcome me.”

  “Welcome you? Have you lost your mind?”

  “I’m here for that one-month probation thing we talked about at the bar last week. If things go well—and I’m sure they will—when the month is over you’ll let me buy into the business as a full-fledged partner.”

  “I remember talking about a one-month probation. But you know darned well we came to no agreement.”

  He shrugged. “Look, if it doesn’t work we go our separate ways. Nothing lost on either side.” He gave her a moment to digest that, then added, “You’d better grab some paper and a pen. We have a meeting with Celia Burchard in about five minutes.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  LINDSAY STARED AT NATHAN good and hard, but he just smiled with the confidence of someone who knew they were holding a winning hand. She couldn’t deny that she was happy to see him here. She didn’t want to turn down another case like the one her sister had just offered her. Nathan was the best—if not the only—solution to her problem.

  “This is pretty audacious,” she finally allowed. “Bordering on insane. But okay. You have a deal.”

  She held out a hand and they shook on it. The second his skin touched hers, though, she was reminded of the one reason this might not be a good idea after all.

  Well, it was too late for a change of heart. Nadine was at the door, introducing the new client.

  Celia Burchard was an exceptionally pretty woman, in her midtwenties, dressed as if she’d just stepped off a beach in sundress and flip-flops, with only a cotton sweater to protect her from the October weather. Glossy hair spilled like honey over shoulders still tanned from the summer.

  “Nathan, thank you for agreeing to help me.” Her gaze slid to Lindsay. “I’m sorry, you’re busy. Do you want me to wait out in the hall?”

  “This is Lindsay Fox. She’ll be working on your case, too. Come in.” Nathan moved from behind his desk to give the woman a hug.

  Immediately Lindsay could tell these two had a history. It wasn’t just the hug. It was the way they looked at one another. She made a note to ask Nathan about it later. For now, she put on a professional smile of welcome.

  Celia still hung back by the door. “I have to admit I’m a little nervous.”

  “Understandable,” Nathan said. “You’ve been through a lot lately. Why don’t we move to the conference room. You’ll be more comfortable there.”

  Lindsay didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused. He was acting as if he’d worked here for weeks, or months.

  Did he even know where the conference room was?

  She waited for him to hesitate or shoot her a questioning look, but instead he headed confidently to the hall on the other side of Nadine’s desk and opened the door to the left.

  “Would you please bring in coffee, Nadine?” he asked, before ushering Celia inside.

  Lindsay thought her receptionist might be put out at this request from someone who hadn’t even been added to the payroll, yet, but she seemed only too pleased to spring to her feet and oblige. A minute later, Nadine returned with a tray of coffees and water.

  She glanced around the room, and noticing the sun streaming in from the window at an uncomfortable angle, she went to adjust the blind. When Lindsay went over to help, Nadine murmured, “I’m glad you changed your mind about Nathan.”

  “I’m not sure I had a choice.” Lindsay gave the cord such a hard tug that the blinds crashed down to the sill. Nathan and Celia turned, startled.

  “Sorry about that.” Nadine left the room, and Lindsay took a seat across from Nathan and Celia, who ha
d selected chairs next to one another.

  What a cute couple they made. But if they were indeed dating, she was going to kill Nathan for not coming clean about the relationship from the beginning.

  Celia glanced around, taking in the ultramodern table and steel chairs, then focusing on the black-framed photographs hanging on the steel-colored walls.

  She squinted at the artwork. “Are those close-ups of paper clips?”

  “Yes,” Lindsay said, admiring them anew.

  “Interesting. If you ever decide to go with a warmer look you should visit my mother’s art gallery. I’d be happy to make some suggestions.”

  Ouch. Lindsay wasn’t sure what hurt more. Celia’s critique of her artistic taste, or Nathan’s amused smile. She supposed she should be glad Nadine, at least, had left the room and wasn’t here to add her own indictment.

  “Should we start?” She glanced at Nathan, who nodded.

  “Celia, why don’t you summarize the situation so we can bring Lindsay up to speed?”

  “It’s all such a horrible mess, I hardly know where to begin.”

  Lindsay tapped her pen impatiently on her notebook. “Why don’t you start with the day your mother shot your father in the butt, and we’ll go from there.”

  Celia’s eyes widened at her blunt tone. “It’s not that easy, okay? You have no idea how awful it is to see my own parents on the cover of newspapers and trashy magazines. To have the world talking about my personal family business.”

  “I do sympathize.” Far more than Celia could ever guess. “But unfortunately we have no control over the media, if that’s what you’re after.”

  “I don’t expect you to stop them. I just want the truth. The police seem happy to take Dad’s story at face value. They hardly investigated at all. And Mom’s preliminary hearing was a joke. It’s so unfair. I don’t understand how Dad can let them put her through this.”