A Hard Day's Night

It's been a hard day's night, and I've been working like a dog
It's been a hard day's night, I should be sleeping like a log
But when I get home to you I'll find the things that you do
Will make me feel alright.

 

Charlie Prescott looked at his watch as the door buzzer to his apartment sounded. An early riser, he was surprised to be buzzed before breakfast. Pulling the Half-Windsor knot of his designer tie snug as he crossed the room, he pressed the buzzer to reply. “Yes?”

“Charlie? It’s Mitsy. Can I come up?”

He frowned; surprised that she had come to see him at all.

“Of course.” He pushed the button to release the door for her and then moved to unlock his front door. He proceeded to make coffee, more to have some to offer her than because he wanted some himself. His routine was to stop for the largest cup available at the coffee shop on the corner. He’d just pushed the brew button on the sleek, stainless steel coffee machine when her knock sounded at the door.

It was only a few steps from the kitchen to the front door. Charlie traversed it in record time, yanking the door open.

“Come on in.” He took her coat and hung it on the heavy antique hall tree next to the door. “You’re up early,” he commented.

“I remembered you were an earlier riser. It was easier to catch you before you went to the office. It’s okay, isn’t it?” Her voice held an edge of anxiety. “It’s not too early for you, is it?”

“Of course not,” he remarked. “I just started coffee. You want to talk in the kitchen?”

“Sure, that’s fine.”

The two of them were soon seated at the kitchen table, with all the accoutrements for coffee ready when the unit completed its brew cycle. Charlie was direct and to the point.

“What’s up, Mitsy? Early morning calls aren’t your style.”

“My mornings certainly begin earlier since I started working at Kingston,” she answered. “But you're right, this is early even for me.” She paused, as if unsure where to start the explanation for her visit. “I’m not sure where to begin,” she admitted.

“The beginning’s always a good place.” He gave her a faint, teasing smile.

“Yeah. The beginning.” Placing both hands palms-down on the kitchen table, she leaned forward. “I need some legal advice about a situation at Kingston.”

Charlie frowned. “Doesn’t Kingston have a corporate attorney?”

“No. Well, yes, it’s just that I can’t ask them,” she said. “It’s sort of about them.”

“Mitsy – I don’t know.” Before he could continue, she reached out and grabbed his hand.

“Charlie! Please! Things don’t add up at Kingston. I need you to tell me if something is legal or not. That’s all. I’m not going to go back and quote you to my boss or the attorneys.”

He looked down at her small hand, the perfectly manicured nails and slim fingers contrasting sharply to his own. He wondered if she had any idea of the feeling she was arousing in him, just from grasping his hand.

“It makes it awkward for me professionally when you ask me to contradict another attorney’s legal advice.”

“But I didn’t get any legal advice from another lawyer,” she explained. “So you can’t contradict anything. Please, Charlie. I wouldn’t ask if weren’t important.”

Charlie sighed. The reality was that he’d do anything she asked of him. He just wasn’t sure he wanted her to know that. “Go ahead.”

“Is it legal for people who don’t work for you to get a salary?”

“Why would you pay salaries to people who don’t work for you?” Charlie asked, dumbfounded by the question.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out!” Mitsy crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair in a huff. “It makes no sense. Do you know Tim Gaitley? Margaret’s husband?”

Charlie shrugged. “I know of him, but not so much about him. I thought he came out of retirement to run Kingston for Margaret.”

Mitsy snorted. “Run Kingston? Run it into the ground, maybe. Seriously, if he does anything, I don’t know what it is. He’s supposed to be the chief legal counsel for the firm, but I can’t get him to return a phone call, or answer an email. When I asked Margaret about it, she referred me to the family attorney.” She rolled her eyes before continuing. “Then there's his daughter, Margaret's step-daughter, Tinsley Gaitley. She’s supposed to be the head of marketing. Draws a hefty salary and it’s the same thing; I’ve never seen her, heard from her, received a return call, nor had an email answered. When I asked Margaret about marketing, I was referred to another outside marketing firm. From what I can tell they’re both drawing hefty salaries and not doing any work.”

“Are they on some kind of paid sabbatical?” Charlie asked.

Mitsy shook her head. “No, I thought of that and asked. Margaret just said they were both currently working a special project.”

“Sounds like mergers and acquisition stuff,” Charlie offered. “Lots of companies pull their top talent to work M&A.”

Mitsy bit her lip. “I guess that could be it. It just seems strange. Margaret said she wanted me to come to work there to stop the hemorrhaging of cash from the company, but the biggest problem is the cash outlay to those two. It’s going to look pretty silly when I have to tell her she can’t afford to keep me unless she’s willing to get rid of her husband and stepdaughter.”

“What about Mike?” Charlie asked, his forehead knitting as he remembered the tall, lanky man he’d been introduced to by Jim. “I happen to know he’s in town. Besides attending Allison’s services, he’s been giving Jim Frayne help with a project for that fundraiser. Some kind of presentation they’re going to show that night. High tech, glitzy stuff from what I understand. Is he on the payroll?”

“He’s listed as the owner, but he hasn’t received a paycheck in several years, probably back when he was still engaged to Buffy. He’s still the primary stockholder, although there haven’t been any profits for the board to declare a dividend in several years.”

Charlie straightened. “You’re kidding? They’ve been unprofitable for that long?”

Mitsy nodded.

“How long have Tim and Tinsley pulled in those kind of salaries?” He leaned forward, his eyes searching hers.

“Since they came to work there,” she replied. “Including their annual bonus, it would turn your stomach, Charlie. Their cell phone bills alone are obscene. And Mike has nothing to show for those years.”

“Mitsy, I’m going to be honest, you’re in a tough spot.” Charlie spoke carefully. “You work for Margaret, right?”

She nodded. “I guess so. She hired me.”

Charlie shook his head. “It almost sounds like a form of embezzlement, the way you’ve laid it out there. The IRS might be interested. Do you know if Mike is aware of these salaries?”

“I have no idea,” she admitted. “Margaret’s in a similar situation, but she works like a whirling dervish, even weekends. It’s like she’s on the verge of some big discovery that will turn the company around, and she just can’t turn it loose. She’s only mentioned Mike a couple of times. She said they were estranged and that he didn’t have any interest in the firm. But …”

“But what …” Charlie prodded.

“But he owns it, Charlie. Not Margaret. Mike. The way it’s set up, he’s the only one who can own it and run it. The papers that were in my files state what Margaret’s salary is to be each year, but Mike is for all intents and purposes the sole owner with over ninety percent of the stock. If he decides he doesn’t want to run the business, then it’s sold to FireKing or dissolved. It’s all tied up with the King family. You remember his cousin, Maggie King Hoffman?”

It was Charlie’s turn to roll his eyes. “I’ll never understand what she saw in that jerk she married,” he muttered.

“He’s helped FireKing grow,” Mitsy reminded him. “He’s a tough guy to like, but you have to admire what he’s done with the company.”

“No, I don’t,” Charlie growled. “Listen, Mitsy …” he glanced at the clock. “Mike King has been hanging out with Beatrix and Jim. Why don’t you stop by the office sometime and let’s see if we can wangle a casual introduction? Kingston's not that far, you could even walk it if it weren't for those ridiculous shoes you wear to work."

Mitsy wrinkled her nose, but made no other sign of protest to Charlie's comment about her shoes.

Charlie paused, as if expecting a protest, but while Mitsy wrinkled her nose she made no other objection to his comment. When Mitsy failed to defend her spiky heels, Charlie continued. "It might work out to be the solution you need.”

“Actually, his mother introduced me to him at Allison’s funeral, so he may remember me.”

“Did she tell him you were working for Kingston?”

“No, she didn’t.” Mitsy chewed her lip. “But I'm pretty sure he would've had to approve my hiring, so he must know. Do you want me to tell him what I told you about Tim and Tinsley Gaitley?”

Charlie shook his head. “Nope, I want him to ask you about them. Come on, despite what you think, I’ll bet he doesn’t even know you work for his company. What do you say?”

Mitsy chewed her lip as she pondered the suggestion. “Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll try and stop by today. It'd be great if Ellie could call me when he shows up. I'd hate to waste a trip over there and find out he hadn't come into the office.”

Charlie winced, but was careful to make sure Mitsy didn't realize that comment had smarted. He stood and reached for her hand. “Listen, Mitsy. I know that things between us, that they’re… well, they haven’t been good. But Beatrix and Jim are really stressed with this fundraiser. Do you think we could put our differences aside for the weekend and attend together like we originally planned?”

Mitsy tilted her head to one side and studied Charlie. “Do you mean to tell me that Charlie the Chump Prescott can’t find a date?”

Charlie flushed. “I guess I’m telling you that Charlie the Chump Prescott is getting particular in his old age about who he wants to go out with.”

She gave him a faint smile. “Beatrix has been a good friend to me. Let’s don’t rock things for the fundraiser. Besides, I'm told that Kingston has bought a table, so it's a good idea for us to go together.”

 

 

Trixie was the last one to arrive at the office. Both Amy and Sean were waiting impatiently in the conference room when she walked in.

“Did you sleep at all, boss?” Sean asked noting the shadows under her eyes.

“Not much. It wasn’t for lack of trying either,” she added. “I managed to get through your background of Mike King.” She expelled a frustrated breath. “You have no idea how much I hate to say this, but, unfortunately, you’re right. He’s going to warrant some further checking. Still, we can’t take it out of context with the other facts. What about Jared Somer, Buffy Patterson, and the rest of Kingston? We really need those in-depth backgrounds completed. We know that Mike knows Madji Farsi. Is there any chance he knows Jared as well?”

“I figured you would ask me that,” Amy acknowledged. “I’ve been working on the backgrounds for all of them. But I need more time, not to mention a couple of pairs of feet on the street wouldn’t hurt.”

“You’ve got Sean and me as the only feet in this game,” Trixie pointed out. “Send us where you need to send us.”

“What I need is for you to tell me that someone in this stupid database is no longer a suspect,” Amy muttered.

Trixie frowned. “What are you saying?”

“Do you have any idea how many entries there are now in the database? How many people are still labeled as suspects? How difficult it’s been to go through and try and keep all the information and details updated on over fifty suspects? In fact, the only two people who’ve come off the list since the beginning of this investigation are Allison Beckhart and Harold Langham. Even your fiancé is still on the list, and you just told us last night that it was for real, not a sham for the case. If you really want me to get something done for this case, then start naming people who are cleared from the suspect list! I can’t keep data current on this many people.” Amy’s eyes flashed as she took a deep breath.

It was clear to Trixie and Sean that Amy was frustrated with her workload. But before they could say anything, she burst into her rant again.

“It’s ridiculous! The entire approach is ridiculous! If we still suspect Charlie Prescott, why in the hell did we let him use our offices? That’s totally asinine. Two or three weeks ago, you were all over Mitsy Thornhill, and then she totally dropped off your radar screen. You completed investigations of Jupiter and Eastway-Berkley before Sean and I ever showed up to help you, but you won’t clear them. How stupid is that? Either your investigation was complete or it wasn’t. Make up your mind.” She slammed the top of her laptop down and stood up. “I’m going to get some coffee. I’ll be back in twenty minutes!” She strode out of the office in a huff as Trixie and Sean exchanged shocked stares.

“It seems Little Miss Junior Agent has some spark in her after all,” Sean said, choking back a laugh. “I sure wish you could’ve seen the expression on your face during that tirade.”

Trixie gave a rueful shake of her head. “Back at you, Barnes. You were looking a bit stunned yourself.” She fingered one of the plain gold hoops in her ears as she thought about the truth in Amy’s diatribe. She looked guiltily over at Sean. “You know she’s right, don’t you? I’ve been afraid to mark anyone cleared, because connections keep showing up.”

“It’s a complicated case,” he advised. “But even if you find out that Charlie Prescott and Mike King were in the same fraternity, it’s not going to change the fact that you cleared all the Prescotts over a month ago. I think Freeman summed it up the other day when she said the New York Social Scene was one big incestuous group. We’re going to keep finding connections, but if we don’t reduce our focus and adjust so that Freeman has a manageable work load, we’re going to be sitting here a year from now looking at this as a cold case.”

“If it takes us that long, then the terrorists will win,” Trixie said glumly. “If they haven’t already.”

“Running a counter-terrorism operation is different than running a criminal investigation, or even computer investigations. You’ve done a lot of those, but this is your first real op that involves preventing a terrorist activity from occurring.” He held up a hand to stop her from interrupting. “I know the principles are the same, and I’m not in any way implying you’re not qualified to run this op. But, I’m willing to bet if this were one of your typical investigations, like that big one that netted the government that huge cash windfall, you’d be focused on no more than three to five of these fifty plus people and you’d have told Amy to code the rest as either cleared or unlikely. Now, before you tell me anything else, tell me this: Why aren’t you listening to your infamous intuition?”

Trixie hardly knew what to say. From her first days on the case in New York as she began to meet people, her intuition had been at work. She knew the Wheelers were innocent and it hadn’t taken long for her to lump the Mortimers at Jupiter Plains as well as the Prescotts at Eastway-Berkley into the cleared category in her mind. While Mitsy and her father threw out millions of mixed signals, she knew in her gut those were signals of a dysfunctional family relationship within their business operation, and not criminal activity related to terrorism. Her training had kicked in and it required that investigations be completed, and boxes checked. She and Sean had never been able to fully resolve their conflicts about Saad. He knew something. Of that they were certain, but whether it had to do with their case or something else, she wasn’t sure.

She looked up at Sean to find him staring at her intently. “You know who it is, don’t you?” he asked.

“Maybe,” she said reluctantly. “I just can’t make it all work. There are still too many unanswered questions.”

“Give me an example,” he said.

“Mike and Maggie King both caught their significant others with someone else around the same time. Betrayal at its worst. At the same time, a similar situation unfolded at B3 Software. Those are the same companies and players we’ve uncovered problems with during our investigation. It just can’t be coincidence, but what bearing does it have on this? ”

“Then throw the others out. Tell Amy to clear them, whatever, and let’s go get the answer to that question.”

“How?” she said. “I don't know what else they can tell us and if we keep asking we just look like we're digging for gossip.”

“Allison Beckhart is dead. Tell them it has something to do with that,” Sean answered. “You think Allison was being blackmailed, so perhaps that’s when it all started. Go ask the questions you don’t have answers to. Heck, Belden, you can start with our very own office neighbor for that. What if Charlie hadn’t been there? What would’ve happened?”

“Allison would’ve caught Reid alone with Ted’s wife,” Trixie answered. “No, wait. That’s not right either.” She stood up. “Okay, you’re right. I’m going to corner Charlie, but first I need to leave, um, what did you call her ... Little Miss Junior Agent ..." she paused and grinned. "I need to leave her a note.”

 

 

Amy Freeman pushed open the door to the war room. She grasped a folded brown paper sack in her hand, the knuckles white from the force of her grip, and balanced a tray of coffees in the other hand. She noticed Sean working and spoke in a falsely cheerful tone. “I’ve brought coffee and bagels.”

Sean looked up. “There better be cream cheese,” he said, studying her rigid posture.

“Yes, of course. I got you an onion bagel. That is your favorite, isn’t it?”

“Heck yes!” He moved toward the bag. “I'm not sure what you're doing with all that coffee, but if those are lattes, I'm gonna tell Belden to fire your butt.”

“One skinny hazelnut latte for me. One nonfat, chai tea with a shot of vanilla for the boss.” She picked up a third cup and offered it to him. “One large, dark roast brewed coffee, no cream, no sugar. The others are for Ellie and Charlie.”

“There is justice in the world after all,” he muttered, grabbing the cup and taking a healthy swallow. “Thanks, Freeman. You got it perfect.”

Amy smiled. She had finally learned that one way to help win her colleague’s respect was through his stomach, or more specifically, his coffee. “Where’s the boss?”

“Talking to our neighbor and office mate.” He jerked his head toward the other side of the wall. “She left you those papers, though.” He pointed with his bagel toward the piece of paper lying next to her computer keyboard.

“It’s not my termination notice, is it?” she asked, only half in jest.

Sean shrugged and took a large bite of his bagel.

Amy moved around the table to look at the piece of paper. “Oh!” she said, reading the note and then looking at Sean. “Is she serious?”

“Of course, she’s serious. The boss would never joke about something like that,” he answered. “You were right. We have to eliminate some of the suspects or we lose our focus on figuring this all out. If you want extra credit, get that list input into our case file before she returns.”

“This is fabulous,” she chortled. Taking the time remove her jacket and grab her latte, she quickly settled into her chair. “She’s completely cleared almost everyone at all the companies.” Amy began to read the list. “Eastway-Berkley, Jupiter Plains, Langham, and …” she stopped and looked at Sean in surprise. “Control & Venture?”

“That’s what she said.”

“But she never finished investigating them beyond that one division,” Amy protested.

“She’d have cleared Wheeler, Torch and Triad as well, except for a couple of questions,” Sean pointed out. “You’ll notice most of the executive staff and board of directors of those companies are cleared as well.”

Amy continued down the list of names from companies until she reached the end. Slamming the list down on the table, she glared at Sean. “She’s clearing everyone at Wheeler International except for Jim Frayne!”

 

 

“What are you doing in the office?” Trixie demanded as she walked into Charlie’s office after verifying with Ellie that he wasn’t on the phone. She didn’t wait for an answer. “How’s Reid? What about the kids? Do you have time to answer some questions for me? I’ve been trying to leave you alone, but it’s to the point where I need you. Are you busy this morning?” She finally stopped with the endless list of questions and stared. “Well, are you just going to sit there or are you going to answer my questions?”

“I’ll start with the last one,” he said dryly. “Yes, I’m going to answer your questions. Couldn’t you have at least brought some coffee in with you?”

“Oh!” Trixie looked around. “Freeman just went out for coffee. I guess from now on, we'll check with you and Ellie. Do you want me to get us some?”

He shook his head. “It’ll wait. Ellie will go in a few minutes. Do you care if she gets us a coffee machine?”

Trixie shook her head. “Be my guest.”

“Great! As for the rest of your questions, I’m here because it’s where I work. Reid is doing as well as can be expected and is making noises about going back to work himself next week. His kids are as okay as they can be. They might go back to school today. Since I’m answering questions I must have time, and yes, it’s going to be a busy morning, but we need to get Reid cleared. That’s the most important thing on my agenda.”

“Great!” Trixie said brightly. She started pacing back and forth in front of Charlie’s desk instead of sitting. “Go back to the night that Kitty and Allison found the two of you half-naked. Who should have been on that call instead of Reid the night Allison found the two of you alone?”

Charlie frowned. “I don’t know for sure. I think I told you that I thought it was Ted. I suppose it could’ve been Ian. The China office was a sales office, so it makes sense that it would’ve been Ted. For all I know, Madji was supposed to be there.”

Trixie was quiet as she digested the information. Her thoughts were moving as fast as her questions to Charlie had been. Madji had been caught with Ted’s wife, Tiffany “Fannie” Eaton. Trixie had believed Madji initiated the indiscretion but now she wondered if Fannie had made the overture to Madji. Was it possible that Ted had known?

“I see the wheels turning, but I don’t have a clue what you’re thinking.” Charlie spoke quietly.

“It just seems, despite everything else, that what happened that night wasn’t what should’ve happened. Allison told Kitty she had a call that her husband was having an affair. By all accounts from you and Reid, that was patently untrue. But someone wanted Allison to catch Tiffany with Reid.”

“Maybe,” he concurred. “But Tiffany was with Madji. Is it possible that someone wanted her to catch Madji with Tiffany? Is it important? I mean it was five years ago.”

Trixie nodded slowly. "There are too many coincidences surrounding that event. It means something, but I can't figure out what it means."

Charlie leaned back and rubbed his chin. Nodding slowly, he leaned forward. “Why don’t you just ask them?”

“Ask who?” she replied and she finally sat in the chair in front of his desk.

“Ask Madji. Ask Tiffany as well.” He shrugged and continued. “What do they have to lose at this point? Have you ever thought about asking them what happened?”

Trixie chewed her bottom lip as she contemplated his suggestion. Is it possible I’m overlooking something that obvious, she wondered? She sighed heavily. “You’re right. I should just ask them.”

She continued to sit as her mind ran through several scenarios. Charlie studied her, wondering what thoughts were being processed underneath that mass of crazy curls. The silence between them built until Trixie broke it with a question.

“Were they friends?” she asked, a hopeful note in her voice.

“Who?”

“Tiffany and Allison. Were they friends?” she clarified.

“They were friendly,” Charlie admitted. “But I don’t think they were friends. Honestly, though, I just don’t know. Both of them were off limits to me.”

Trixie leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands on the edge of Charlie's desk. Her blue eyes twinkled. “Really? Do tell.”

“I’m no saint,” he assured her. “But I’ve never even flirted with another man’s wife.”

She laughed. "Do you think that all the gossips know that even cads have moral standards?"

Charlie snorted, but before he could speak, a knock sounded on the door. Trixie quirked a questioning brow and he nodded. "Come in, Ellie."

Ellie pushed the door open with her shoulder, holding two large coffee cups. "These are for you. Amy just delivered them.

"Coffee!" Charlie practically jumped out of his seat. "Bless that girl!" he said, taking the cups and studying the sides. "This one is yours," he handed the one marked 'Boss' to Trixie. "’Lawyer’ has to be me!"

After telling Ellie to pass along his thanks to Amy, he sat in the chair next to Trixie instead of returning to his desk chair. "Look, why don't you let me set you up some time with Reid? He can handle it now,” he said confidently. “He’s to the point where he wants to do something. Fix things, you know.”

Trixie nodded. “Maybe, but maybe you can tell me a couple of things first. Were Madji and Ted friends?”

“Yes, I think so. They went to lunch together occasionally. Not after this happened, mind you, but before.”

“What about Ted? Did he and Fannie socialize much with Reid and Allison?”

“Not at all,” Charlie answered promptly. “Fannie would’ve loved it. But you can’t get Ted to any kind of social event that’s not related to work. The man uses his free time for sports. The Mets, at that.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head in dismay at Ted Kent’s love for the wrong New York sports team. “He has quite a bit invested in season tickets to the Knicks, the Mets, the Giants, really whoever’s playing. He has a sport and a team for all seasons.”

“I should expect to see him at Mets stadium instead of at the Met, huh?”

“Exactly!”

"Charlie, so far Madji isn't talking. Not to me, and not to the police. Do you think Reid could get him to talk to me?"

"Unless I'm totally off base, Madji will do anything Reid asks him to do. For that matter, so would Fannie. How about I get him to make some calls?"

Trixie nodded and took a sip of her latte, enjoying the spicy chai tea flavor.

Once again, a comfortable silence grew between the two of them as Trixie contemplated a new approach. This time, Charlie broke the silence.

“Listen, Belden. I could use a favor of my own."

"Really? You have an investigation for me?"

"Not really, more of a set-up."

Trixie was surprised. "What do you mean?"

"You did know that Mitsy works for your buddy, Mike King’s company now, didn't you?"

"Yes, I heard that some time ago. What about it?"

"Mike's not very active at Kingston. In fact, according to Mitsy, it sounds like he's more active with Jim's fundraiser than his own business. Is there any chance you could set it up for Mitsy to go to lunch with him, maybe as part of a group? She'd really like a chance to… uh, persuade him to take a more active role."

Trixie's eyes narrowed. "Why doesn't she just call and ask him to lunch?"

"Something about not upsetting her boss, Mike's mother. There are more issues there than in most dysfunctional families. What do you say?"

"If she's flexible this week about lunch, I'm sure we can make it happen."

Charlie nodded. "Thanks. Now, what about your other news?”

“What other news? You mean Harold Langham?”

“Come on, Beatrix. You announced it at the Wheeler’s brunch. All of New York knows that it’s official. New York’s darling dog detective is engaged to one of its most eligible and wealthy bachelors. He even spends his spare time helping her on her lost dog crusades.”

Trixie’s jaw dropped. Her arms flattened on the desk.

“Yep, this morning’s Squawker. Apparently, he pocketed a hefty reward.”

Trixie groaned and dropped her head down on the desk, covering it with her arms. “Nooo,” she wailed into the desk.

Charlie chuckled. “The Squawker speculates that he needs the money for a ring.”

 

 

Jim frowned at the dusty, old black jeweler’s box before he flicked it open. He studied the contents for a moment before looking at his future father-in-law. “It probably needs to be cleaned.”

“Probably,” Peter agreed. “I’m sure Mr. Mancuso can clean it for you this morning. By the way, I understand you were out finding lost dogs last night.”

Jim looked surprised. “Oh? Did Trixie tell you about that?”

“No.” The older man stared steadily at him. “I read about in The Squawker.”

“Oh!” Jim’s jaw dropped. It had been a while since they had to be concerned about the gossip rags. Being out of town had helped matters on that front. Now they – he-- had somehow let his guard down.

“Pocketed a hefty reward, according to the columnist.”

Was that a smirk tugging at the corner of Peter’s mouth? Jim wondered. No, probably not.

“Lydia Randolph tips well,” he acknowledged. “Trixie was busy with another case last night. Mrs. Randolph was hysterical, so Mike and I offered to help her out. We figured we could use the reward money for the School.”

Peter nodded. “You know, the last thing a father wants is to read about his daughter in those kinds of columns.”

“Sir, I’m sorry. I guess Mike and I weren’t discreet enough when we were out looking. To be honest, I’d forgotten about the paper’s interest in Trixie. I let my guard down. It won’t happen again.”

“Yes, well, I suspect with the announcement of your engagement, interest will die down and they’ll find some other young couple to harass.”

“Mr. Belden ...” Jim stopped as Peter held up a hand.

“Let’s make it Peter from now on.”

“Thank you, sir.” Jim felt his face flush. Before, his conversations with Peter Belden had been as his son’s best friend. This was the first time he’d ever spoken to him one-on-one, when he’d made it clear his interest was in Peter’s daughter. Jim remembered the things he’d whispered in Trixie’s ear the night before while he had her pushed up against the door in her office. If Peter knew …

“Hopefully, we’ve seen the last of the Squawker.” Peter busied himself with closing the safe deposit box.

“Mist --- Peter. You might want to know. They’re going to be at the fundraiser. In an official capacity. We gave them media access to the event.”

“Good grief, Jim. What on earth possessed you to do that?”

“Actually, I didn’t. Trixie did. Well, she’ll tell you that it was Dan and me. But we were worried she had a stalker, and we wanted this guy’s help.”

“Did she?”

“Did she what?” Jim was confused.

“Did she have a stalker?”

“No, sir. We don’t think so. Not now. We found out, that is Trixie found out. It was my cousin, Ben Riker. He was playing a trick on her.”

“I see.” Peter picked up the box. “Anything else, Jim?”

“No, sir. I mean …” Jim was unsure how to say the words he had planned to say on Sunday morning when he had ended up proposing to Trixie in front of the majority of her family. “Peter, you’re okay with me marrying Trixie, aren’t you? Yesterday, I was actually coming to tell you that I was going to propose and then, well, you know what happened. But, I want to be sure you know that I love her. Really love her. I’ve been waiting a long time to make it official.”

“Yes, son. I know.” He reached out and used his free hand to clasp Jim’s shoulder. “There’s no one else I’d rather see her with than you.”

 

 

“I’m not quite finished with these updates,” Amy said as Trixie entered the conference room of their office. “I should be finished in twenty minutes or so.”

“That’s fine, Freeman. Can I ask you to stop and look something up for me?”

“Of course. What is it?”

“Tiffany Eaton. Do we have her address?”

“Don’t bother looking that up,” Sean spoke up. “She lives on the upper east side. Are we going to see her?”

Trixie nodded. “Why not? Do we have an address for Madji Farsi?”

“Yes, of course,” Amy answered this time. “I’ll get it for you.” Amy’s fingers few over her keyboard, and she looked up and nodded at Trixie. “Just emailed you both Madji’s and Ms. Eaton’s address. Madji hasn’t been willing to talk to anyone,” she reminded her boss. “Do you think you can get him to talk to you?”

“That was before Allison was killed,” Trixie replied. “If he thinks it means clearing Reid, then he’ll probably talk. But it doesn't matter. Charlie is asking Reid to make some phone calls for us this morning. Hopefully, we'll have talked to both Madji Farsi and Tiffany Eaton by this time tomorrow.”

“Do you want me to take Tiffany?” Sean offered.

Trixie shook her head. "Let's take it together. My gut tells me we're going to need both perspectives to get what we want. "

"Anything I can do?" Amy interjected hopefully.

Trixie bit her lip. She remembered what it was like to be the junior agent relegated to coffee, lunch, and grunt work. "Freeman, you were right about the suspects. We need to eliminate as many as we can. The database and case file updates aren't glamorous, but we need the information from them. If you can get the database updates processed by the time we get the go-ahead from Charlie, you'll get an interview."

Amy nodded; her acute disappointment obvious to both Sean and Trixie.

"Boss, I could help work the updates to the case file," Sean offered. "You could do this research, you know, until we get the all clear."

Hating to squelch the look of hope on Amy's face, Trixie nodded slowly. "Okay, but Freeman, if the updates aren't done, it's a no go. We're so close right now, I can feel it. We can't afford for our information not to be up to the minute."

"Understood, Boss."

Trixie suppressed a grin at the eager tone in Agent Freeman's voice. "By the way, somehow, sometime this week, we need to set up a casual lunch that includes both Mike King and Mitsy Thornhill. It needs to look like spur of the moment."

"What's up with that?" Sean asked.

"I'm not sure," Trixie answered slowly. "Charlie asked for a favor, but my gut tells me there's more to it."

"You think Mitsy stumbled on something at Kingston?" Amy asked.

Trixie nodded. "She's been there just long enough to find something that doesn't add up."

"Is today too soon for lunch?" Amy was taking the mission to arrange a casual lunch as seriously as if she'd been asked to set up a covert operation in Afghanistan.

"Just go with your gut. If Barnes and I need to meet a group somewhere for lunch, just let us know. I'm sure Jim and Mike will be in the office sometime this week."

"Got it, boss. I won't let you down," Amy vowed.

"You haven't yet, Freeman. You haven't yet."