Monahan 02 Artificial Intentions Read Online Free PDF

Phoenix Technologies offices, located at Lexington and East 46th. She was about six inches taller than me and she had one of those hourglass figures you read about. Some would call her too big in the hips, but the suit she was wearing showcased her magnificent hips and small waist. Her hair was a beautiful brown, if brown has ever been described as beautiful, and cut short in a bob. It suited her.
    “Ms. Monahan,” she greeted me quietly and put out her hand. “Carrie MacIntosh.”
    I was surprised. I had expected Tommy’s secretary to be about my mother’s age.
    “Hi Carrie.”
    “I’m really sorry about Mr. Connaught.” Her eyes were water-filled but her face was composed.
    “Thank you. Is Cleve Johnston around?”
    “He’s back in the boardroom. Follow me.”
    She led the way through reception and down a long corridor. I had to trot to keep up with her. I hate women with long legs.
    “Carrie,” I called after her. “I’d rather see Cleve alone. That is, if he’s with people in the boardroom.”
    “I’ll put you in Mr. Connaught’s office. That’s no problem.”
    She stopped abruptly in front of a door and opened it. She waved me through and I entered into what was obviously a secretarial office.
    “My place,” she explained as she walked past the desk and opened yet another door. I followed her in and quickly glanced around.
    “Make yourself comfortable. Coffee?”
    “Please,” I mumbled to the door as it closed. She seemed very efficient.
    Tommy’s office was huge and the two exterior walls were all glass, overlooking Manhattan. His desk was centered in the room and soft seating was dispersed around the thick, luxurious carpet. One side of the space was taken up with a large, rectangular meeting table with eight, high-backed, leather chairs. I wandered around and noticed there were very few personal touches. A bookcase held two shelves of mementos, marble and acrylic paper weights commemorating various corporate achievements, sales and marketing give-aways and such.
    I heard the door open behind me and turned around to see Carrie, entering the room with a tray of coffee. She placed it on a coffee table.
    “I’ve told Mr. Johnston that you’ve arrived. He’ll be right in. Is there anything else you need right now?”
    “Thanks. I guess I’ll need a hotel room.”
    “Already taken care of.”
    I looked around for an ashtray. Tommy had loathed my smoking.
    “Ashtray?”
    “I’m sorry, Ms. Monahan, but smoking is not allowed in the office.”
    I dug my DuMaurier’s out of my pocket and lit one.
    “It’s okay, I’ll use the saucer,” I said as I blew out a cloud of smoke. I knew if I could smoke, I could handle what was going to happen in the next couple of hours.
    Carrie opened a drawer in the bottom of a credenza and extracted an ashtray.
    “How long have you been working with Tommy?” I asked her.
    “Three months.”
    The office door opened and Cleve walked in. Carrie’s long legs took her to the door in a few steps.
    “I’ll be outside at my desk if you need anything.”
    “Thank you Carrie,” Cleve and I said at the same time. The door closed quietly and Cleve looked at me for a moment.
    “I thought you’d given up that nasty habit,” he said, pointing at the cigarette.
    “No willpower.” I butted the half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray and walked over to the window. I stood there with my arms wrapped around myself and took in the view.
    We were both quiet for a couple of minutes and without turning around I asked Cleve, “How did he die?”
    “Gunshot to the back of the head.”
    Ohmigod. Ohmigod. My stomach turned and my head swam. Tommy had been murdered. It hadn’t even occurred to me. Without thinking too much about it, I had assumed he had died in some sort of accident.
    “Have they arrested anyone?” I finally asked.
    “No.”
    “Any suspects?”
    “No.”
    I turned around and faced him.
    “None? Was it a mugging? Was he in the wrong place at the wrong