“You painted these?”
She nodded silently.
He turned back. “They’re good. Really good.”
“Thank you.”
Alex studied him openly. She could feel the pull between them, feel the tension and a shiver of apprehension shot through her.
Their future hadn’t been revealed to her as of yet but she had no doubt their lives would be entwined one way or another. She just hadn’t made up her mind whether that was a good or bad thing.
Not for him but for her. At the age of twenty-six, she had managed to keep her heart whole. Oh, there had been men, a fair amount of them, but Brad Norton was different. A smile played about her lips as she took stock of the man in front of her.
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Damn! The man looked good standing there with the sunlight
shining on his raven hair and his tanned skin. The breadth of his shoulders and his muscular build were attraction enough, but there was something else that appealed to her. Something below the surface. What was it Alicia had said? She needed a man with layers. She had the definite feeling that Bradley Norton had a lot.
“I gather you took my advice and contacted some of my
previous clients?” she asked, curling into one of the overstuffed chairs. She caught his look of surprise when she slipped out of her high heels and tucked her feet underneath her. “I seldom find the need to impress, Mr. Norton. What you see is what you get.”
“I have to admit what I see certainly is worth looking at,” he said, smiling.
“Well, well. It appears this meeting is starting off a little better than the previous one.”
He walked over to the big desk and leaned against it. Folding his arms across his chest, he stretched his long legs in front of him.
“Comfortable?” she asked, fighting the urge to smile.
His lips twitched. “I figure if you aren’t into protocol then I shouldn’t be either.”
She laughed. “Touché! I like a man with a quick wit.”
“Good. Because you’re right, I did talk to some of your previous clients and I have to admit, I’m impressed. It appears I was wrong.
You’re very good at what you do, Miss Leahy.”
“Alex. Yes, I am, Mr. Norton.”
“Brad,” he corrected. “I apologize for acting the way I did when we first met. You have to understand, however, that what I’m
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about to hire you for, if you’ll accept, is very important and very personal to me.”
“I never take a case where the client doesn’t feel just as you do, Brad. In fact, I have a few rules that I always follow. I don’t take cases where I don’t trust or like the client, no matter how
interesting they are and I see no point in wasting my time with a client who isn’t totally committed to solving what he or she has hired me to do.”
“Are you clairvoyant?”
“Among other things. It is one of the reasons I have been as successful as I have. Make no mistake, I have the credentials.” She motioned to the wall where several framed diplomas hung. “I
graduated with a degree in criminology and worked for several years with the local police force before I hung my own shingle out.”
“And the other things?”
“Personal,” she responded. When he didn’t pry further, her
opinion of him went up a few notches. “You’re not the only one who’s done some research, you know. You’re quite an interesting character, Bradley Norton.”
“Ah… people singing my praises, are they?”
She shrugged, smiling lightly. “Perhaps. For instance, I know you graduated top of your class in high school, went to Yale and made the Dean’s list more than once. Norton Securities is listed in Forbes as a Fortune 500 company and, unlike popular opinion, you started that company from scratch with your own money.”
His gaze shot to hers. “It appears you have very good
informants, Alex.”
“I do. I also know you lived with your aunt for most of your adolescent years. Her death must have been very hard for you.”
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“It was,” he said, frowning. “Do you always investigate your clients so thoroughly?”
She eyed him steadily. “Absolutely. I seldom make a mistake
when I take a case and it would be foolish to go in blindly.”
“So I can assume I passed the test?”
“You wouldn’t be here talking to me if you hadn’t. Now, what I don’t know, other than the fact that your aunt was killed by what the police termed a drive-by shooting, is why you suspect
otherwise?”
When he was finished some fifteen minutes later, she leaned
back in her chair thoughtfully. “Your link is tenuous at best, Brad.”
“You don’t think it merits investigating further?”
“I didn’t say that. My senses are telling me there’s more and I never doubt my instincts.”
“Funny, that’s just what Miguel Santos said this afternoon.”
That caught her attention. “You know Miguel?”
He nodded. “Rosa as well. He and I were college roommates. I met him for lunch this afternoon. He sang your praises all through the meal.”
She laughed. “Knowing Miguel, I don’t doubt it. The man could convince an Eskimo he needed to buy an igloo. If he thought I was the right person for the job, he’d never let up. Makes him so good at what he does.”
“You do know him.” Brad grinned.
“I also know his expertise as a serial profiler is well known. Did you ask him about what you suspect?”
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He nodded. “I did and he basically feels the same as you. It’s obvious if I am to convince the law, I need more solid evidence.
That’s where you come in.”
“If Miguel hadn’t recommended my services then Rosa would
have.” She smiled. “Unfortunately lately we’ve lost touch with one another. She was on vacation in Mexico and about the time she was due back I was out west for my brothers’ graduation.”
“Then you might not know that Rosa is pregnant. Due in about a month.”
“That’s wonderful! She’s wanted a baby for so long. That
clinches it. I’ll call her later this evening and make a date for lunch.”
“How about dinner Saturday at their house instead? Miguel
invited both of us with the idea we could discuss the case.”
“Sounds great.” She curled out of the chair as gracefully as she sat, sliding back into her shoes. “Unfortunately, I have another appointment I can’t postpone in a few minutes.” She extended a slender hand. “I look forward to working with you, Brad.”
“No contract to sign?” he asked, wrapping his fingers around hers. There was warmth in her touch. It traveled up his body and seemed to envelop him.
A dimple flickered in and out of her cheek. “No contract. If either of us finds working with the other unacceptable, we simply call it off. Agreed?”
He hadn’t released her hand and she hadn’t pulled it away
either. He lifted his free hand and caught a soft red curl, wrapping it around his finger lightly. “I’m a business man, Alex. I think a firmer commitment should be in order.”
She raised a brow. “Really. What would you suggest?”
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“Something like this,” he said, leaning down to catch her lips in a quick kiss. At least that was his intention. A quick kiss, maybe to knock her a little off balance. Make him feel a little more in control again. He was a man who needed to plan, keep things in
perspective. The woman alternately irritated and intrigued him. He wasn’t comfortable with how that made him feel.
Only it didn’t happen. She felt so right in his arms, her curves molding to his as if they were designed to fit perfectly. He wasn’t sure who deepened the kiss, didn’t care. The kiss ended long minutes later with neither of them attempting to break the
embrace. He rubbed a thumb gently along her wrist, feeling the rapid beat of her heart. It matched his.
“You kiss very nicely, Bradley Norton,” she said, stepping back slowly, cheeks flushed.
He nodded, stroking her cheek lightly. “So do you, Alexis
Leahy. So do you.”
“That kiss could complicate things, you know.”
“Yeah, it could but we won’t let it, will we?”
She opened the door and leaned against it. “Not everything that we do is under our control, Brad. No matter what your father might have taught you. See you Saturday at what time?”
“Six o’clock,” he answered, the now familiar feeling that she was messing inside his head disturbing him. “I’ll pick you up.”
“No. I’ve got some things to do. Meet you there.”
She closed the door gently as he walked through, not giving
him time to continue the conversation. He moved into the hall wavering between whether he was impressed or ticked off or both.
Nora smiled up at him from her desk. “Is there something else I can help you with, Mr. Norton?”
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“No. No, thank you,” he murmured, making his way out into
the sunshine.
He drove home slowly, his thoughts muddled. The woman was
full of contradictions. One minute she was tucking her feet
underneath her, flirting lightly, and the next putting him firmly in his place, those incredible green eyes searing right through him. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t dated other women. He had, several of them for a long period. Most of the time, the relationships were casual and mutually satisfying. They didn’t leave him feeling frustrated and on edge.
He forced himself to switch gears. After all, none of that was important. What really mattered was her ability to help him find his aunt’s killer.
He walked into his condo, throwing his keys on the foyer table.
The blinking answering machine light caught his eye as he grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator. He took a satisfying gulp and then switched the machine on. The voice that began speaking had him sitting up straight, his drink forgotten.
“Bradley, I’ve thought about what you told me earlier and,
although I have my reservations, I took the liberty of contacting Russell Ferron. He happens to be an acquaintance of mine. It was his wife that was killed about nine months ago in Charlotte. He has agreed to speak with you. I’m still not sure this is wise, but if you feel there is something to what you suspect, meeting with him might be a good starting place. I’ve emailed you both his address and his home and office numbers.”
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Brad clicked the off button, sinking down on the couch. He
didn’t even know his father had his phone number. What was even harder to believe was, if he read between the lines, it appeared Andrew Norton was actually offering him an olive branch of sorts.
He picked up the phone and moments later Maggie answered.
“Afternoon, Maggie. Is my father home?”
“Not yet, Brad. You can reach him at the office for about
another half an hour if you need him, though.”
He glanced at the clock on the mantel.
“Of course. What was I thinking? I should know the time table by now.”
“It won’t work if you don’t give, Brad,” Maggie said sharply.
“What won’t work?” he asked, although he knew exactly what
she was talking about.
“Mending your relationship with your father.”
“I know, Maggie. I guess I’ve inherited more of his
stubbornness than I want to admit.”
“Actually, your mother could hold her own in that category as well. When she thought she was right, she stood aside for no one.”
That brought a smile to his face. “Looks like I don’t have a chance then. Listen, Maggie, do you know someone by the name of Russell Ferron?”
There was silence on the other end of the phone for a brief
moment. “Seems to me the name sounds familiar. Why?”
“His wife was killed the same way Aunt Ellie was, about three months before, in Charlotte.”
“Oh, yes. Now I remember. Well-known family in the area.” Her voice changed. “You think she was killed by the same person as your aunt?”
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“It’s a possibility. My father left a message saying he knew the husband. Arranged for me to meet him.”
“Andrew did that?” Maggie asked in surprise.
“Yeah, he did. I know. I’m still recovering from the shock as well. Strange coincidence both Aunt Ellie and this man’s wife died the same way. Maybe he saw that as well.”
“He’s trying, laddie. Meet him half way.”
“I intend to. Let him know I called and I’ll be in touch.”
“I will. Be careful, love. If what you suspect is really true, then there might be someone out there that won’t be happy at you
pushing for information.”
“Irish intuition?”
“Motherly instinct. Visit soon, you hear.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned into the phone as he disconnected
the call.
Checking his emails, he found his father’s message. He began dialing the phone and then hesitated. If he was going to hire Alex Leahy to assist with the investigation, then she needed to be there from the start. It was time to see if she was as good as her reputation painted her. The weekend would be soon enough to
make that appointment.
* * *
Saturday dawned sunny and pleasantly warm. Brad grabbed
his keys and slid open the sun roof once again. The breeze was refreshing and, for the first time in a long while, he felt a burden lift from his shoulders. The combined heaviness of the day-to-day running of a growing, successful company and the months of grief
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he still held inside after his aunt had died had weighed heavily on him without his even realizing it. The grief was slowly ebbing and being replaced by a firm resolve to find the person who killed her.
He was taking a big step today. He didn’t trust or open himself up to strangers easily. He had discovered very early doing that could lead to being hurt. So he had kept his emotions in check, his girlfriends casual and work had been his panacea.
The drive to Miguel and Rosa Santos’ house was pleasant. They lived on the outskirts of the city in a big farm-style house with several acres around it. He pulled into the driveway beside a vintage ’65 Mustang convertible. A grin curved his lips. The car had to be Alex Leahy’s. Somehow it fit her to perfection.