LITMIR.BIZ

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if I give you some free advice, Ms. Allen?” Ben asked.

      Allen lasered in. “I don’t accept it, as a rule, Detective. Neither do I give anything away for free nor respect people who do.”

      Ben rubbed his chin slowly, and I could hear the scratch of his stubble. “Yeah, well, I’d feel better if I gave it, anyway. The letters? The flowers? We’ve talked about this before, but I really wish you’d take my advice and not ignore what’s going on. Maybe it’s completely innocent, but maybe it’s not. I think it’d be better if you got out in front of it.”

      She let a few moments pass without responding, then did finally. “Advice noted.”

      Something small moved in a corner, and I turned to see a white long-haired cat wearing a diamond-studded collar slink out from under the chaise and head for Allen’s legs. Allen caught me watching.

      “That’s Blue, short for Blue Note. Ignore him. He’ll do the same to you.” She pressed a button on her desk, and the door opened instantaneously to a lanky young black man in a dress shirt, tie, and slacks. He looked to be around college age, fresh faced, short hair. He came in carrying a round silver tray with a linen napkin and a single cup of cappuccino on it, and it didn’t look like this was his first time doing it.

      He was used to the tray. Used to the walk from the door to Allen’s queenly perch with nary a rattle of fine china or silver. I watched every step of his journey. Whoever the kid was, Allen didn’t bother to look at him. She did flick a look at the tray, though.

      “Progress, Kendrick. This time you remembered the napkin.”

      He acknowledged her with a nod, put the tray down, and left as quietly as a ladybug.

      Her elbows on her desk now, Allen tented her fingers under her chin and stared at me. “There’s only you in your agency.” She’d obviously looked me up.

      I straightened up a bit. Showtime. “That’s right.”

      “Why?”

      It seemed an odd question right off the bat. I took a second to answer. “I like it that way.”

      Her dark eyes did not waver. “I don’t see what preference has to do with running a business. You could take on more cases if you had more investigators.”

      I nodded. “Yes, I definitely could do that.”

      “So, why don’t you?”

      “I’d rather keep it simple.”

      Allen’s eyes really were piercing. What was her deal? “What does that mean?”

      She was like a four-year-old bombarding you with questions about sex, and I was the parent trying to avoid indelicacies by keeping the answers short and broad, hoping she’d lose interest and settle for a juice box and animal crackers.

      “I like working alone,” I said.

      “Why?”

      Our eyes held. My patience was waning. “I just do.”

      I could feel Ben squirm in the seat next to me.

      “You won’t tell me why.”

      “No. Sorry.”

      Allen didn’t blink. “You’re not sorry.”

      I thought about it for a half second. “I was being polite.”

      “I’d like an answer.”

      “Why?”

      She cocked her head. “Why do I want an answer?”

      “Yes.”

      “Hmmm.” Allen pushed the button on her desk twice. I hoped she was buzzing Kendrick to see me out. Frankly, I was more than ready to go. How many times did she push that button in a day? I wondered. And was Kendrick compelled to answer every wordless summons? If so, poor kid.

      “You like being in control,” she said after a time. “So do I.”

      The door opened. No Kendrick. It was Chandler who walked in this time, but Allen’s eyes never left my face. Goody for me.

      “Kaye, I also need you to tell the studio I want to see the new set before Friday.”

      “We really need to get in there sometime today,” Chandler said. “That’d give us more of a cushion before mock run-throughs, in case we need to make changes.”

      Allen turned to Chandler, a sudden chill in the air. “Friday. Make the call.”

      Chandler, apparently startled by the rebuff, turned and walked out without so much as rippling the air.

      “Maybe you heard, but I’m about to launch my own show in a few months. National reach. It’s a long time coming.” Allen angled her head. “Well? Still waiting for that answer.”

      “Most people want control over the things that matter to them,” I said. “And they try getting it in a number of ways—working alone maybe, or by propping their desks up on platforms.”

      Ben cleared his throat; the gruff sound was followed by a clumsy stillness.

      “I’m wondering if you’re going to be a problem for me,” Allen said, condescension dripping from every word. “I’m picking up attitude. I don’t like attitude. I want team players. Are you a team player, Ms. Raines?”

      “If I like the team.”

      “And if you don’t?”

      I shrugged. “Then I take my ball and go home.”

      Allen looked to Ben. “This could be a problem.”

      Ben leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs. “Do you want good, or do you want easy?”

      The look on Allen’s face told me she was a woman not used to having to choose. She considered things for a moment more. “Fine. I’ll see how this goes. What I need isn’t complicated, as I’ve told you already. I don’t know who’s behind all this mess, and honestly, I don’t care. I have a magazine to run, a show to ramp up for, events, business. I don’t want any of that interrupted. Five thousand for the week. The week started the moment you walked in here.”

      Ben said, “Yeah, we got it.”

      I just nodded.

      Allen barreled on. “I start my day in the gym at seven. I’m here no later than eight thirty, unless I’ve got an early meeting scheduled, and I don’t this week. There’s security in this building, but I’d be a fool to rely on it, so both of you will be here during the day. I’ll need you both for my evening events. You can divvy up duties however you see fit. I won’t need you overnight. My building’s secure—doorman, full security staff. They know what they’re doing.” Allen sat back in her chair. “Unobtrusive protection is what I’m paying for. Questions?”

      Allen looked from Ben to me. Ben stayed quiet, so I stayed quiet. The man had a boat to pay for.

      “No problems working for someone else, Ms. Raines?” she asked pointedly.

      “I guess we’ll find out.”

      “I’m curious. Why take this at all? A PI who prefers working alone?”

      “Detective Mickerson asked, and I had the time.”

      She let a beat pass. “You two are friends, then?”

      I nodded.

      “And you apparently value that friendship.”

      I didn’t answer. I didn’t think I needed to. I asked a question instead. “Why do you think someone’s threatening you?”

      I had my theories, of course. I’d known the woman less than ten minutes, and working just on first impressions, I imagined she’d easily get on the wrong side of most anybody quickly. She was intrusive. She was rigid, and she didn’t strike me as being the

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