When her watch beeped and signaled sheβd swam thirty
minutes she glided into the wall, breathless but totally
relaxed. She pushed out of the water and crossed to the
bank of chairs where sheβd draped her towel. Sheβd barely
dried her eyes and hair when she heard a deep voice call
out her name.
Angie stiffened. She recognized the gruff baritone.
Detective Malcolm Kier. The cop made no effort to hide his
contempt for her and her work. Instantly, she wished she
had on her business suit and high heels. She straightened
her shoulders and faced him. βDetective Kier. What a
lovely surprise.β
He possessed a powerful build. Not more than an inch
taller than her, he radiated a raw energy and a donβt-fuck-
with-me demeanor that intimidated most everyone. He
rattled her as well, but sheβd decided long ago that sheβd
eat dirt before she ever let him know it.
βCounselor. Good to see you stay in shape.β He wore
denims with muddied hems, a faded flannel shirt, a jean
jacket and scuffed work boots. A leather gun holster
peaked out from under his jacket.
βI try. You just roll in from the mountains?β
βJust about.β
βYouβre a regular Grizzly Adams.β
His grin did not reach his eyes. βThatβs right.β
Water dripped from her suit. Drying herself off in front
of Kier felt awkward. But the cooling air and her refusal
to be intimidated motivated her to slowly begin drying her
arms and legs as if she didnβt have a worry in the
world. βSo what brings you to the gym, detective? Looking
into membership?β
His gaze didnβt waver. βNo, Iβm here on official business.β
She wrapped the towel around her waist, tucked it in place
and scooted her feet into waiting flip-flops. How had he
found her? And then she remembered that sheβd once told
Kierβs partner, her sisterβs boyfriend, that she swam daily
here. βNeed an attorney?β she goaded. βIβd be happy to
see you in my office. Feel free to call my secretary for
an appointment.β
βI donβt need your services.β
βThen why are you here? Bored? Here to rattle my cage a
little more?β Kier had been a constant shadow presence
since the Dixon trial. It seemed he never missed an
opportunity to annoy her.
βI donβt rattle your cage.β The smugness didnβt support
the words. βI could care less about you.β
βThat why I see you at Kingβs several nights a week?β
He shrugged. βI like the food. Plus you know I took an
apartment across the street.β
βRight. So why is it you always make a point to hold me up
in the courthouse when Iβm late?β
βJust making conversation.β
βHow about the four parking tickets Iβve gotten in the last
year.β
βThe city marks its No Parking zones clearly. Youβre being
paranoid.β He reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out
a theater program. βIβd like you to look at this.β
Annoyance crept up her back bunching the muscles sheβd
worked so hard to relax. βThis is not the best time for me
to discuss the arts, detective.β
As if she hadnβt spoken he turned a program toward
her. βDo you know this woman?β
She held his gaze not wanting to look and give him the
satisfaction that heβd won this little standoff. βLike I
said, call my secretary.β
His stare darkened like an angry storm on the horizon, but
it didnβt waiver nor did the picture in his hand. βLook
here, or look at the station. Makes no difference to me.β
βYou wouldnβt.β
βNothing would give me more pleasure than to steal a few
billable hours from you.β
Asshole. Heβd do it. She blinked and lowered her gaze to
the program. The young womanβs pale face and blond hair
accentuated a high slash of cheekbones. Bright green eyes
sparked and her lip curved upward as if she knew a secret.
Angie knew her. βHer name is listed in the program. You
can read, canβt you?β
He held the picture out an extra beat then slowly tucked it
back in his jacket pocket. βHow long has Sierra Day been
your client?β
Staring down angry cops and prosecutors was part of any
defense attorneyβs turf. βI donβt discuss my clients. You
remember attorney client privilege, donβt you detective?β
βWhy did she hire you?β
βI canβt tell you that.β
βTell me about the divorce. Was it nasty?β
βSeeing as you have all the answers why are you here?β
βWord is she and her soon-to-be ex husband mixed it up a
few times.β
βTalk to him.β
βIβm asking you.β
And then she cut through her own indignation and really
thought about why he was here. Kier was a homicide
detective and he wasnβt making a social call. What had
happened? She thought about the last time sheβd seen
Sierra. The woman had breezed into her office unannounced
and demanded that Angie settle her divorce immediately.
Sierra needed cash and wasnβt ashamed to admit it.
βDo you know where she might be?β Kier said.
Sierra could be reckless. βWhy the interest in Sierra
Day? Is she in trouble?β
βShe was reported missing by the West End Theatre manager
ten days ago.β
βYou donβt work Missing Persons.β
He shifted his stance. βDid her husband ever threaten
Sierra?β
βHas something happened to Sierra?β
βLike I said, she is missing.β
βAnd like I said you donβt work Missing Persons. What
arenβt you telling me, detective?β
He studied her. βSierraβs stats match the characteristics
of a body we found late last night.β
βCharacteristics?β
βFemale. Mid-twenties. Five foot six to five foot eight.β
βThat fits Sierra and a lot of other women.β
Her skin chilled. βWhat else do you know about your
victim?β
βNot much.β
βMeaning?β
He studied her, as if wondering how much to give for
maximum return. βAll we have are bones.β