Sleight Mistake (Stone Investigations Book 2) Page 8

  ‘I’ve been trying to get in touch with you,’ he said, making no move to come inside. If he was frustrated by coming here, then his annoyance only grew when Sorcha moved into view behind her.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Sorcha demanded of him, rounding Lacie and straightening her back so as to better present her chest.

  ‘Me and the Little Lady are having sex. What’s it to you?’ he sniped.

  Lacie opened her mouth and lifted a finger to refute his claim, but Sorcha spoke before she could.

  Sorcha scoffed and moved toward him. ‘Lacie is a sane, rational human being. She’s way too smart to get mixed up with the likes of you.’

  ‘What does that make you?’ Shep asked Sorcha, his brow furrowed, but his mouth stayed relaxed.

  The baby bump was the only thing between the pair now. ‘Charitable,’ Sorcha snarked.

  Now it was his turn to scoff. ‘You don’t make a guy work for it if you’re handing out charity.’

  ‘You didn’t work for it!’

  Nodding, he agreed. ‘True, you do hand it out pretty easy.’ Shep glanced down at the bump.

  ‘Don’t look at my child that way!’ Sorcha exclaimed and wrapped her arms around her stomach.

  ‘You’re seeing things,’ Shep said, drawing his eyes back to Sorcha’s face. ‘It’s all in your head. Doesn’t pregnancy mess with your mind or something?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m the crazy one,’ Sorcha said, dismissing him with the tilt of her chin.

  Crossing Lacie’s threshold, Shep forced Sorcha to take a step back. ‘I think you might just be, sugar-hips. You’ve been ga-ga in love with Booth for the last couple of days. I don’t know anyone in their right mind who would be attracted to that loser.’

  Sorcha’s jaw swung loose as she made an affronted squeal. ‘You were spying on me?’

  ‘Ordered to,’ Shep said, glancing at Lacie before he narrowed his eyes on Sorcha. ‘You want to pay me to watch that kinda shit, it’s going to cost you more.’

  Sorcha’s frown joined the revulsion in her words. ‘You’re disgusting!’ Sorcha declared.

  ‘Guys!’ Lacie shouted. If she didn’t take control of this now then it was likely the pair would mount each other there in her living room with her present. ‘Keep arguing if you want but you can’t do it here. I have a meeting to get to.’

  ‘Pick up your damned phone once in a while, Lacie,’ Shep snapped. He fixed on Sorcha for a score of seconds and although he wanted to convey anger, it was obvious that his expression was a mask for a true hurt. His feelings went unspoken though because he turned on his heels and marched off.

  ‘Yuck, I can’t believe I let him near me,’ Sorcha said, moving outside for Lacie to lock up.

  Lacie saw through her friend’s indignation but chose not to needle her about it. In her own time, Sorcha would come around to the truth. The possibility existed that Sorcha already knew it, but Bruce was from a good family and was the father of her child. Sorcha believed she had made her bed.

  If Shep had been working on the case over the last few days, he’d have seen Sorcha and Bruce playing at being a happy family. Lacie couldn’t blame him for being irked. A part of him had to suspect this was all just one big joke meant to exacerbate his unhappiness.

  Witnessing Sorcha and Bruce’s happiness would be tough on Shep, but in a perverse way, Lacie was encouraged. Shep couldn’t have found evidence of cheating or he would have delighted in presenting both women with it.

  Sorcha skulked down to the car and gave Lacie a ride to the gallery for her meeting with Monty. Few words were exchanged during the journey which told Lacie Sorcha wasn’t half as detached from Shep as she’d want the world to believe.

  ‘You’re not yourself,’ Monty said.

  Their meeting had gone well. The idea was to talk about plans for the exhibition. They’d covered the basics but Lacie’s heart wasn’t in it, which apparently Monty had noticed. They sat together in his office, drinking tea, and usually they’d be chatty, but shooting the breeze was beyond her ability this day.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Lacie said, trying to shake herself into the moment.

  Monty was an astute man who had all the time in the world for people. ‘You have to talk to Ryder.’

  She shook her head and sipped her tea before replacing the cup in its saucer. ‘No, he has enough on his plate,’ she said. ‘He’s setting up a new business and… I’m just tired.’

  ‘Do you want to talk more about your exhibition? I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you chose us to stage your re-launch.’ His joy perked her up some.

  ‘You’re one of my closest friends, Monty,’ she said, proud that she had put the grin on Monty’s face. ‘I trust you. You’ve always been there for me.’

  Monty had a large office with a bistro table set in the bay window just for this type of occasion.

  ‘The tickets sold out within the hour.’

  Lacie lifted her teacup to her lips. ‘Tickets,’ she said.

  ‘For launch night,’ Monty said. ‘Everyone is waiting with bated breath. We’ve added another week but we’re still selling tickets for the viewing engagements.’

  ‘That’s good,’ Lacie said, turning the cup on its saucer. Tea in the States didn’t taste the same as it did at home, even when it was made to her specification. To be honest, she had never noticed or minded the difference, until today. Maybe it was her separation from Ryder that was making her crave the comfort of her mother’s brew or maybe it was the idea of people buying tickets to gawk at her and her work.

  ‘There’s been a lot of interest in you as well as your work,’ Monty said. His tone was meant to encourage, but the edge to it told her he knew it was unlikely to improve her ease.

  ‘Yes—what?’ Lacie asked, realising that she’d only been half listening.

  ‘We’ve had calls here and people showing up looking for information. Elijah Graden has also called repeatedly requesting contact. I wasn’t concerned when I thought Ryder was at your side. But since your disappearance you’ve garnered a lot of interest and I’d worry that it’s not all positive or at least sane. What works in your favour is that you’ve recently moved apartment. I presume that’s made you harder to track down.’

  ‘I’ve had calls,’ she said. ‘A couple of hang ups and some heavy breathers.’

  His grin was long gone. Monty was a great comfort in many situations and knew when to be serious. His advice was sage and almost always right. ‘The fact that you’re telling me that in context of this conversation means they are not particularly pleasant,’ he said.

  Monty was worried about her and about those who might want to gain her favour or at least attract her attention. Ryder’s fears were not just his she realised, all of her friends were worried about her and it was possible that they had a point. Sometimes less than savoury characters fixated on those who had been traumatised or those who had the limelight.

  ‘It’s nothing sinister,’ Lacie said, hoping to reassure him. ‘It’s just tiresome. The media asked for interviews, as you know, we refused all requests. People want to offer support or to ask what happened. It can be overwhelming… the interest has died down and I had hoped it was over. I suppose this exhibition is drawing more interest than I thought it would. I’ve had the odd fan letter in my time but nothing on this scale… It’s unsettling that so many people know who I am.’

  Monty leaned across the small circular table and elbows on the table weren’t normally his thing so Lacie knew what he was about to say was serious. ‘I don’t begin to pretend to know what you went through out there,’ Monty soothed. ‘I don’t pretend to know the ins and outs of your relationship with Ryder either. But the man knows what he’s doing, and he loves you, not even you can deny that.’

  ‘I never would. He’s been so busy this week that I haven’t wanted to… do you think I should talk to him about it?’

  Monty shuffled to the front of his seat to get closer. ‘I think that it won’t work out in your favour if
you hide things from him.’

  ‘I’m not unsafe,’ she said, trying to show it wasn’t fear as such that the interest caused. ‘I’m unsettled. There’s a difference… Without Ryder around all day, I’m… I’m more aware of my vulnerabilities.’

  ‘I have a little surprise for you on that score and I hope it will cheer you up.’ Monty slid a business card across the table and let his smile turn sassy. ‘Their business is through referral only, mention my name.’

  Lacie frowned at her friend’s smile then turned her attention to the black cardboard rectangle. The initials S.I.S. were embossed in a dark grey with a phone number she didn’t recognise etched beneath.

  ‘How could they—‘

  ‘Turn it over,’ Monty said.

  On the other side was an address only a couple of streets over. ‘They’re set up?’

  Monty shrugged but his smile was knowing. ‘Getting there from what I understand. The office just opened for business yesterday. Ryder came by this morning and asked me to pass that on after our meeting. Why don’t you go over and take a look for yourself?’

  Lacie turned the card around to examine in more closely. ‘Why that…’ Smiling, she traced her fingertips over the lettering.

  ‘He’s expecting you to go over there. I suppose this is the big reveal.’

  Monty drew her to her feet and gave her a hug, which gave Lacie the time to re-plan her afternoon. After that, saying goodbye was swift. When she was out on the street, she thought about going home to change her clothes. But the building address on the card was only a couple of blocks, so she decided to forego freshening up.

  Maybe it had been her eagerness to see Ryder, or maybe it was her desire to see what he was cooking up, but whatever her reasoning, Lacie was determined in her gait when she set the new S.I.S. address in her sights.

  Chapter Eight

  S.I.S. wasn’t displayed on the building’s list of premises. Either it just hadn’t been added yet or Ryder liked it that way. But the full address was on the back of the card, so Lacie got into the elevator, confident that she was in the right place.

  The elevator pinged when it reached the penultimate floor. The doors whooshed open to reveal a slick lobby with a wide white reception desk where a woman sat behind a computer. Behind the receptionist was a white wall emblazoned with the S.I.S. initials in large black lettering. Grey light emanated from behind each letter making the sight professional but striking.

  Flanking that screen were two glass walls, which were each garnished with a wide constant waterfall. These premises were modern, professional, and expensive. Ryder had put all of this together, in less than a week.

  ‘Can I help you?’ the little blonde behind the high reception desk asked. Though the woman wore a smile, Lacie read her feigned sincerity. This place was expensive and so was the clientele, right now Lacie was not, which was probably why the receptionist had her nose turned up.

  She tiptoed out of the elevator, keeping the strap of her purse in her hand. ‘Uh—‘

  ‘Do you have an appointment?’ the blonde asked when Lacie didn’t answer with enough speed.

  ‘I’m looking for Ryder,’ Lacie said, with a tentative step toward the desk. ‘Ryder Stone.’

  The slope of the receptionist’s brows became steep and her lip quivered. Lacie was just pleased the girl didn’t laugh right in her face because it was obvious that her request had amused the youngster.

  Her brows didn’t come down but her smile became sympathetic though it was also undeniably smug. ‘Mr Stone is busy, as I’m sure you can imagine. He owns the company. He runs the business,’ the receptionist said. ‘I can make you an appointment to meet with one of his associates if you give me the details of who referred you. As I’m sure you understand, we have to corroborate the referral personally before you can be allowed to meet with anyone.’

  ‘You check references?’ Lacie asked, thinking of how she’d stumbled through the front door of SW—Ryder’s previous company—that early morning months ago.

  ‘Of course we check references,’ the receptionist said, offended by the suggestion they might not. ‘This is a very elite company. We offer an exclusive service. Can you tell me who referred you? And what the matter is in relation to?’

  The blonde produced a form from a drawer in her desk and smoothed it onto the desk. Lacie tilted her head to get a better look at the document that appeared to be in triplicate.

  ‘There are a lot of questions on that form,’ Lacie said, approaching the desk. ‘Toby already has me on file. He’s got all my background information and a credit reference on me.’

  ‘If you’re a returning customer then you’ll be on the computer,’ the blonde said, moving to her mouse and keyboard. ‘Is there a reason you chose not to phone ahead for an appointment?’

  Lacie hadn’t considered the possibility that she might have to take a pop quiz before she was allowed in the door. ‘If you tell Ryder I’m here all of this administrative stuff will be unnecessary.’

  ‘I can’t really take your word for that, can I?’ the blonde said with distinct condescension. She was so good at it that Lacie wondered if she practised her contempt in front of a mirror. ‘People come in here every day requesting the CEO’s attention. He would never get anything done if I granted every request for an audience with him.’

  Lacie hastened to cover her mouth, but she hadn’t been quick enough. It was obvious that the blonde had registered her smile. ‘CEO? There’s no way Ryder told you to call him that.’

  ‘That’s what he is, isn’t it?’ the blonde said, showing no shame for her statement despite Lacie’s reaction.

  ‘Is this your first day?’ Lacie asked.

  ‘My first week, why—‘

  ‘This place hasn’t been here for more than a week,’ Lacie said. ‘The office only opened to the public yesterday, so you can’t have had that many requests for Ryder’s time.’

  ‘There are protocols to follow. They’re there for a reason.’

  ‘Everyone’s safety,’ Lacie said, nodding because she was all too aware of how strict the men’s protocols could be—especially if Gabe was watching. ‘I know.’

  The receptionist put her pen and the form back in a drawer. ‘If you are not willing to follow procedure I suggest you look elsewhere for your investigation and security needs.’

  ‘Like I’m allowed to use the competition,’ Lacie mumbled.

  The blonde was steadfast and Lacie wasn’t sure what to do. It hadn’t occurred to her that she might not get over the threshold. She didn’t particularly want to discuss her personal business with the blonde and she certainly didn’t want to make an appointment.

  But right now Lacie wasn’t sure where Ryder was and there would definitely be more than one exit on a building this size so staking it out wasn’t an option. Besides, she didn’t want to be crazy stalking woman, especially when she might have a stalker on her tail too.

  Making a scene or a threat was an option, the receptionist probably had a panic button built into her desk somewhere and if security came running then they would recognise her… unless Ryder had hired additional men, which was a distinct possibility.

  Coming here with the aim of seeing Ryder, Lacie was eager to lay eyes on him. ‘Is he in the building?’ Lacie asked. Opening her purse, she regretted not packing her cell phone. ‘Can you tell me that?

  ‘What?’

  The receptionist sounded flummoxed, but Lacie kept searching her purse. ‘Is he in the building? At least tell me if he’s doing something important.’

  ‘I can’t possibly reveal—‘

  ‘Of course not… Can I sit over there?’ she asked, pointing to the leather couch in the corner.

  ‘Why would you—‘

  ‘I probably won’t need it.’ Lacie retrieved her keys from her purse and did the thing she’d always vowed she would never need to—she pressed her panic button.

  Nothing happened. Not that she expected it to, the thing was built to be discre
et. Its purpose would be moot if it started blaring or flashing, thus letting the bad guys know she’d raised an alarm. That would take away the element of surprise, which could be crucial to a rescue mission.

  The blonde was more confused than ever and looked ready to raise an alarm of her own. The possibility existed that Ryder had taken off his watch to work out or something. Before she could panic about that, he stepped into view from behind one of the waterfall walls.

  ‘Hi,’ she said, moistening her dry lips. Fixating on him, Lacie forgot about the receptionist who was no doubt confused by this turn of events.

  ‘That’s supposed to be for emergencies,’ Ryder said, nodding at the button in her hand.

  ‘For when I needed you,’ Lacie said, curling her lips into a smile. ‘That’s what you said to me.’

  ‘You need me?’ he asked.

  ‘Every day,’ she said.

  ‘Come here,’ he murmured.

  He nodded once and stepped back. The blonde leapt from her desk. ‘She doesn’t have an appointment, Mr. Stone.’

  ‘She doesn’t need an appointment,’ Ryder said, watching Lacie’s every move as she walked toward them and around the reception desk. ‘Ever.’

  Lacie stopped in front of him and rolled her eyes upward to peek at him through her bangs. ‘Get back there,’ Ryder growled, not drawn in by her expression of innocence. Slipping a hand to the small of her back, Ryder guided her around the partition bearing the S.I.S. logo.

  The space was open. The centre of the area had couches and a coffee station then a pool table beyond. All around the perimeter were glass walls with their blinds closed and solid doors in equal distance from each other. The furthest wall had only two doors but like the others the walls were glass but blind shielded.

  Ryder took her to the remotest door and opened it then urged her inside. The walls of the corner office were floor to ceiling tempered glass and gave her a sense of vertigo.