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“I can see why you haven’t found Rosie or the diamonds yet. You’re easily distracted,” I noted.
He was nuzzling my neck.
“Yeah, you’re distracting,” he agreed readily. “Not to mention I rarely get into the office. I prefer being out in the field. I hate sitting in this office.” He said this to the space below my ear and then moved his head to brush his lips against mine. “From now on, when I have to be in here I can look at this couch, remember having a piece of your sweet ass on it and the time will go a fuck of a lot faster.”
Yikes.
I should have been horrified, maybe, or offended. Instead I liked the idea of him thinking of me in his office, even that way, or maybe especially that way. I liked the fact that he told me, matter of fact. It wasn’t a roses and champagne compliment, but it worked all the same.
“Oh, all right,” I gave in on a sigh, wrapping my arms around him.
He kissed me, but I could swear I felt his body shaking like he was laughing.
* * *
After we brokein his couch, I used his private bathroom while Lee checked his e-mail messages and made some phone calls. Once I had all my clothes and hair back in order, we walked out of his office. He was going to give me a tour, and he took me down the hall in the opposite direction to reception.
There were several doors and he opened the one next to his office. It was large and held an exercise bike, a treadmill, a set of free weights, a flat screen TV and a big, comfy couch.
“This is a room for downtime, waiting or on call.” This was all he said before he closed the door.
He turned across the hall and opened another door and I peered inside. It was a bathroom, two sinks under two mirrored medicine cabinets. There was a double-front, free-standing cabinet with glass doors showing one side stacked with towels, the other side holding male toiletries like shaving cream and deodorant (okay, that was all the male toiletries, but males didn’t have a lot of toiletries, and from what I noticed, Lee, nor any of his men, were into primping and putting shitloads of product in their hair). It was mostly taken up with various medical supplies. This I found slightly alarming, but I set it aside. There was also a toilet in a stall and a big, tiled space with two showerheads in open bays. All of this was pristinely clean and new looking.
He closed the door while saying, “When you’re in the office, you use my private bathroom. This is males only.”
I felt a weird thrill that he gave this instruction using the word “when.” Maybe the next visit would include me walking down the hall when someone opened the door to the bathroom with open shower bays. Maybe I should bring Marianne here, it might change her life. I was beginning to think Dawn was a very clever girl, even though I still didn’t like her and definitely didn’t trust her.
“What does Dawn use?” I asked.
He gave me a look. “Don’t know. Don’t ask.”
We walked further down the hall. He opened the door to a small room that was lined with about a dozen lockers, a big, fireproof cabinet with an electronic lock and a kitchenette at the end. No explanation needed for this room, and I was glad to know where I could find the coffee.
Then he turned, knocked twice on a door and slid a fob across a pad on the side. A green light went on and he opened the door.
Woo hoo!
Now we were talking.
The nerve center.
We walked into a room with a bank of, like, a gazillion television screens on one wall, each with a DVD recorder beneath it. Underneath that was a console full of buttons and knobs. There were several multiline phones on the console. Another wall held radios stacked in inset shelves. I could hear the police band squawking quietly. Two guys were sitting in the room, but there were four chairs. Most of the television screens had visual, but a few were blank. Against the wall, opposite the screens, were a couple of desks that were a heck of a lot messier than Lee’s with folders, papers, empty pop cans and dirty coffee mugs.
Huh.
I had my proof about Dawn.
Both men were sitting with their sides to the door. Both men turned when we walked in and both men grinned when they saw me. I had the weird, uncomfortable feeling they both knew what happened in Lee’s office ten minutes ago.
“Indy, this is Monty and Vance. I think you boys know Indy.”
Say what?
“Hey, Indy,” Monty greeted. He had a blond military cut, a well-maintained body with a laidback posture, and I was guessing he was about ten years older than Lee. He was still grinning at me, and he lifted his hand and pointed a finger at a bank of four screens, all of which had visual on different angles of the inside of Fortnum’s.
Ah-ha.
Now I knew how Lee would think they’d know me.
