Memories of Us Read Online Free PDF Page A

quiet. He bypassed his office and headed for Celia’s.
    Beyond her closed office door, he could hear the murmur of voices, Celia’s light voice blending with Cook’s deeper tones. Cook’s dark chortle set Tom’s teeth on edge. Without knocking, he pushed the door open.
    The aroma of strong coffee hung in the air. Cook, stretched out on the sofa taking up one wall, had a file open before him. Celia sat at her desk, folders lined up in a neat row. Both heads turned in his direction.
    For some reason, seeing them working didn’t improve his mood. He didn’t acknowledge Cook, but fixed a look on Celia. She returned his gaze, her face impassive.
    “Ms. St. John, could I see you a moment please?” He turned and strode to his office. Inside, he set his briefcase on the credenza and flipped the computer on with terse movements.
    Celia appeared in his doorway, eyes narrowed. “Is there a problem?”
    Her hair was up in a chic knot, leaving the elegant line of her neck bare. The picture of her with Cook flashed in his mind again, the other man sliding his mouth along her throat. The irritation flared into something hotter, a primitive possessiveness. Damn, he really didn’t need this. He set the wrinkled lilac bag on the edge of his desk. “You left that in my car.”
    She crossed the room to pick up the package. “This is why you wanted to see me?”
    Settling into his chair, he flipped open the file he’d need for court that morning. The words wavered in front of his eyes, anger still jerking along his nerves. “I told you I wanted an update.”
    “I don’t have anything for you yet,” she said, voice cool, removed. “We’re waiting on fingerprints and blood tests before we question him again. We need a court order for a blood sample and the judge won’t be in his office until nine.”
    He glanced up. Her slender fingers played with the thin silver chain that disappeared into her blue blouse. Beneath her pinstriped jacket, silk clung to firm breasts. Great. Now he was able to envision the edge of her cleavage, as he’d seen it above her camisole the night before. “What is he doing here?”
    She lifted an eyebrow. “We’re going through cell-phone records. Doe had one of those throwaway cell phones. But we’re not finding anything yet, just calls to pay phones or other throwaway cells. I put out a press release and Cook issued an Amber Alert.”
    He nodded. “I saw the photos on the news this morning. Good idea, there. Be ready if they want an interview later.”
    “I will.”
    “In the future, I’d appreciate more professional behavior from you on scene.”
    Her face froze, fingers tightening on the chain. “Excuse me?”
    He clenched his jaw. “When you’re working, whatever is going on between you and Investigator Cook does not need to be bandied about the way it was last night.”
    “Whatever is…” She stared at him, her nostrils flaring slightly with a deep breath. Her face reddened and she crossed her arms, the lilac bag hanging from her fingers. “Just what do you think is going on?”
    “I don’t know and it’s none of my business, unless it affects your performance as my investigator. I merely don’t approve of your flirting with Cook at a crime scene.”
    Bad temper crackled in her eyes. She leaned forward, resting her hands on the desk. Her blouse gaped slightly, her silver chain brushing against a hint of satin. “Is this a reprimand?”
    “No.” He held her gaze, his own temper rising to meet hers, his pulse thudding in his ears. “A reminder.”
    She leaned closer. “Just for the record,” she said, her voice lowering, taking on a hint of steel, “I am not involved with Mark Cook. If I were, it would have no effect on my job performance and I resent the hell out of your implication.”
    “Good.” He drummed the file in front of him, irritated with the relief her denial sent coursing through him. “Then we understand each other.”
    Her mouth thinned. “Oh, I understand