“This is Mr. Brody,” Mrs. Johnston said to introduce the only person in the room.
“Ah, my new partner in crime,” he said as he got to his feet to walk around the desk.
It was an odd turn of phrase considering the work he did and Brigitte grinned when she saw the smirk on Mr. Brody’s face. She didn’t get the impression that Mrs. Johnston would appreciate any hilarity, however, and put a hand to her mouth as she cleared her throat to stop a laugh coming out.
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” she said when she lowered her hand from her face.
“You too, young lady,” Mr. Brody went on and shook her hand.
Young lady sounded like something her father would call her and it warmed her to her new boss straight away. He was older than her father though, with grey hair and a lined forehead revealing that he was probably in his early sixties.
“I’ll leave you in Mr. Brody’s capable hands,” Mrs. Johnston said then turned to leave the room.
“You can have that desk,” he told her.
“Thanks,” Brigitte said as she looked to the one being pointed out and walked across to put her bag down on it. “Is it only the two of us in here?”
“Yup,” Mr. Brody said. “If we hate each other, it will be tough shit…, we’ll simply have to put up with it.”
Brigitte let out a laugh this time as she moved around the desk. She took her jacket off then dropped in the seat.
“I’ll try my best to make you like me then,” she said.
“I like you already,” he said with a grin. “You nearly laughed at that joke about being my partner in crime.”
“I’m not sure Mrs. Johnston found it funny,” Brigitte pointed out.
The shrug of his shoulders showed that Mr. Brody wasn’t particularly bothered about that.
“She can be a bit stuffy, but I’ve always enjoyed working for her,” he said. “She’ll back you up one hundred percent if you make the effort to do the job right.”
“And how is that done?”
“We make sure the people on this program stay on the straight and narrow,” Mr. Brody replied. “The aim is to help them avoid the same bad choices that got them in trouble in the first place.”
“How have things gone so far?”
“It’s still early days,” Mr. Brody told her. “But the ones I’ve met so far have shown an interest in improving their lives. I’m guessing that won’t be the case with everyone. There’s bound to be some that will look to take advantage of the perks on offer for getting involved in the program, but it shouldn’t be too difficult to spot them and weed them out if we have to.”
“Do we get to know their background?” Brigitte queried.
“We get the police and prison files on them as a starting point, so we know what we’re dealing with. It’s then on to the meetings and trying to help them with how they can move on and stay out of trouble.”
“What kind of crimes have they committed?”
“Oh, it can be anything from petty pilfering and shoplifting up to more serious transgressions, such as assault. We’re dealing with ex-cons who spent less than five years in jail and the governor of the state penitentiary is fairly selective about who is given the opportunity, so we should be getting people that are genuinely interested in making the program work for them. It’s not foolproof and like I already said, there might be some that try to take advantage, but hopefully, that will be kept to a minimum.”
The conversation about work carried on for much of the morning and ended with Brigitte being handed the files on the people that were already part of the program. Mr. Brody took her along to the canteen for lunch and she found she enjoyed his company. He was obviously passionate about the work he did although it didn’t stop him making jokes and being irreverent on occasions. She knew she would get on with him fine by the afternoon of their first day together, but was certain he would be a good teacher also and that she’d learn plenty from him. He was more than happy to answer her questions over the next few days and it enabled her to quickly get up to speed on the work she would be involved with.
“Have a read through that,” Mr. Brody said at the end of her fourth day of work and put a folder on her desk.
“I’ll go through it before I leave tonight.”
“It’s the first interview with a new person,” Mr. Brody went on. “So I can’t really give you an assessment of what to expect. We’ll figure out what we’re dealing with tomorrow.”
Brigitte nodded her head. She’d attended a couple of counseling sessions so far although she mostly watched and listened to her boss in action. The participants appeared to respect him and from what she could see, he acted as more of a helpful friend that anything else to them. She wondered if hardened ex-cons would feel the same about a twenty two year old girl, but guessed she would find out soon enough.
She went through the file she’d been given before leaving the office to prepare herself for the next morning. There was some surprise that the person she was reading about would get involved in the program, but she tried to clear away any pre-conceived notions that he might be one of those looking to take advantage of the system. There would be no way of judging that until they actually met him, so she put thoughts of work aside when she left the office to go home that evening.
They were uppermost in her mind when she got to work before nine the next morning and opened the door to an empty office. That was unusual, since Mr. Brody was usually there to greet her when she arrived. She moved across the room to sit at her desk and opened the folder to go through the details of the person they would be seeing that morning. The ringing of the phone on her desk disturbed her and she reached out to pick it up.
“Bad news,” the voice on the other end of the line said.
“Mr. Brody?” she queried.
“It’s me,” he confirmed. “I’m standing at the side of the highway looking at steam rising from under the hood of my car.”
“Not a good start to the day then,” Brigitte commented.
“I’m waiting on a breakdown truck and will get into the office afterwards, but I don’t think it will be for a while.”
“The meeting,” Brigitte let out in a hesitant voice.
“Yeah,” he said. “I called the reception desk at the apartments to try and change the time to later in the day, but apparently the guy has left already. I can only assume that he’s on his way.”
“So, what do I do?” Brigitte asked and couldn’t hold down the flare of anxiety.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Mr. Brody went on. “But probably won’t be there for the nine thirty start time. Get the guy settled in and find out how he’s got on since he was released. You have the list of standard questions for a first session if you need them, but I’m sure you’ll handle things fine. When the number of participants ramps up, you’ll be seeing people on your own anyway.”
“I didn’t expect to be doing that on the fifth day of my first week.”
“No, me neither and I’m sorry about this,” Mr. Brody told her. “But there’s not much I can do now except get there as quickly as I can. From what I’ve seen of you, you’ll be fine.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Brigitte said, but it did nothing to reduce her trepidation when the call came to an end.
She gathered what she needed over the next few minutes, then tried to calm herself as she concentrated on getting herself ready. The sound of the phone ringing at nine thirty made her jump and she rolled her eyes that she was being so skittish. It wasn’t as if she’d never met an ex-con although it was usually in the presence of others and this would be her first experience of a one-to-one discussion. She got up to move to Mr. Brody’s desk and wiped her clammy palm on her skirt before picking up the phone. It was the receptionist as expected and she explained the situation then listened.
“OK, thanks, I’ll be right out,” she said to bring the conversation to an end and hung up the call.
She returned to her desk to
get the items she’d gathered together then walked towards the door. When she got to it, she stopped to take a deep breath.
“Here goes,” she let out under her breath then stepped out of the office to head for the reception area.
Chapter 5
“Would you like anything else?” the woman asked when she put the cup down on the counter.
Matt tapped the fingertips of his left hand on his teeth as he glanced towards the bottles of hard liquor sitting on the wall shelves behind her. He wasn’t sure the idea he was contemplating was the best he ever had, but eventually decided it wouldn’t do any harm.
“Make it an Irish coffee,” he said.
The woman turned to reach for a bottle of Jameson Whiskey and unscrewed the top to put a slug of alcohol in the cup.
“Hair of the dog?” she asked as she returned the cap to the bottle.
“No,” Matt said and smiled as he shook his head. “It’s the first time in a week I’ve been up this early in the morning, so I need a little pick-me-up to get myself going.”
She replaced the bottle on the shelf and Matt handed over the money when she returned her attention to him. He expected her to leave him in peace afterwards, but she didn’t move away. Instead, she reached under the counter to get a cloth and started to clean glasses.
“I didn’t peg you as a morning drinker,” she said. “It’s usually later in the evening when you make an appearance.”
“Things to do,” Matt said and picked up the cup to take a sip.
He really wanted nothing more than his own company and thanked the woman for the coffee before walking away from the counter to move to one of the booths next to the windows. The bar close to his new apartment building was becoming his regular haunt for a drink although he was keeping his alcohol consumption sensible. He’d never been that much of a drinker anyway, but a beer or night cap usually went down well in the evening and he’d taken to enjoying one or the other every day since his release.
He adjusted the sleeve of his jacket to get a glimpse of his watch and saw it was almost eight o’clock. That meant there was plenty of time to enjoy his coffee before he needed to get moving and he settled down in the seat. He hadn’t really done much in the week since his detention in the state penitentiary came to an end and was in no rush to change that. Whether the people he was about to come face to face with for the first time would be happy with his attitude, he didn’t know, although he wasn’t particularly bothered one way or the other.
He wanted to stay in the program for the perks of a free apartment and the help he might get in finding a job, but was planning to get his life on track at his own pace. The money in his bank account enabled him to do that. If what was expected of him by government appointed counselors became a pain in the ass, he didn’t have a problem with walking away from the handout he was receiving. It wasn’t like he couldn’t survive without it. There was always a way to get by.
He still planned to give things a chance and that meant finding out what the sessions he was expected to attend were all about that morning. He could take it from there afterwards and make a decision about what to do. Picking up his cup, he took a sip to enjoy a fix of caffeine and alcohol. A glance out the window showed the street slowly coming to life and he sat watching the people passing by as they went about their daily business.
“Could I cope with their way of life?” he mused.
It would certainly be a huge change from what he’d been doing since his late teens, but he was sure he could cope with it. The thought that he didn’t want to waste any more years in a prison cell was enough to make him want to try something different. He continued to drink his coffee as he stared out the window. When the cup was empty, he decided to get another fix of caffeine and stood up to walk over to the counter. He stuck to black coffee with no additions on this occasion and remained at the counter while he drank it.
The woman started to speak to him again, but he gave one word answers to her questions and she eventually got the message that he wasn’t really in the mood for a conversation. It was ten to nine when he finished drinking and he moved across to the door to leave the bar. He walked to the nearby bus stop to catch a ride and kept his gaze on the passing scene as the journey progressed. It was a new experience for him to be using public transport on a regular basis, but his savings wouldn’t stretch to getting himself a car. He planned to resolve that once he started earning some money, but it would have to wait until he got himself sorted out.
The state government offices weren’t the easiest place to get to by bus, but the directions he got from the man at the apartment reception desk earlier that morning turned out to be accurate. When he caught sight of the large building that had been described to him, he got to his feet and walked to the door of the bus. He wasn’t sure if he got off at the right stop as instructed, but could see where he needed to get to and set off at a brisk pace. The hands of his watch showed that he was right on time when he stepped through the entrance and he went up to the receptionist.
She asked him to take a seat while she made the call, so that’s what he did. He leaned forward to stare down towards the floor at his feet and the thoughts running through his head meant he didn’t register the approaching footsteps until they were right next to him. The black heels he found himself staring at weren’t what he expected. Neither was the smooth, bare skin that greeted his eyes as his gaze slid higher to the hem of a skirt that sat mid-thigh on slim, shapely legs. His eyes opened wider as he looked up to the slightly nervous-looking smile of a pretty, young woman.
“Mr. Harris?” she asked.
He almost let out a laugh at the sound of his name and couldn’t even remember the last time anyone referred to him as Mr. Harris.
“That’s me,” he replied and returned the smile. “But I’m guessing you’re not Mr. Brody.”
“He’s running late this morning, but should be here shortly. My name’s Brigitte Sanderson. I’m one of the counselors on the rehabilitation program.”
“OK, well, it’s nice to meet you,” Matt said.
The unexpected appearance of Brigitte wasn’t something he was going to complain about and he found himself unable to stop staring at her features when he got to his feet. Her shoulder length blonde hair was neatly combed although there were a few stray wisps across her face and the idea of brushing them aside reared up in his mind. He’d expected blue eyes to match the color of her hair, but saw they were in fact deep brown and they reminded him of a Latina girlfriend he once went out with years before. He guessed that lip gloss was the reason for the slight sheen on a cupid’s-bow mouth as his gaze flitted across it. That seemed to be as much as she’d done in terms of making herself up, but her pretty face didn’t really need any help in looking good.
“If you’ll follow me, please,” Brigitte said.
Matt was still staring at her mouth when she spoke, but the words broke the slight spell he was under and he lifted a hand to rub at the nape of his neck.
“Yeah, sure,” he agreed and watched her turn away.
Brigitte set off from the reception area towards a corridor and he was more than happy to walk a few paces behind her to take in more of her obvious attributes. His gaze settled on the curve of her hips and he liked the way the tight, black material clung to her butt. Within seconds, he was admiring her long, lithe legs again and wondering how high the hem of her skirt would hitch up when she sat down. It was an alluring thought, but he quickly averted his gaze when she got to a door and held it open for him.
“Go down one flight of steps then turn right,” Brigitte said.
Matt nodded his head, but was disappointed to move through the door first. It put her behind him as he followed her instructions. He kept walking until he heard her voice again.
“This is us.”
He assumed she meant the room he was passing, so he came to a stop and watched as she opened the door. Thinking she expected him to go inside first, he stepped forward. Brigitte did the same a
nd they accidentally bumped into each other.
“Oh, sorry,” she apologized and let out a slightly embarrassed laugh.
“My fault,” Matt replied and moved out of the way.
He watched as she lifted a hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear before she stepped forward to move inside the room. It was a simple, innocent gesture, but somehow incredibly sexy at the same time and he took in a deep breath through his nose. It got him the fresh scent of Brigitte’s perfume as he followed her and looked around. The room they were in was set up for meetings, with a table and four chairs taking pride of place in the center of the small space. There was a whiteboard set up on one of the cream-painted walls and a small cabinet in the corner was the only other piece of furniture in the room.
Enforcer Page 6
