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really blue?

      She would be the only other investigator working for him, and he imagined them spending a lot of time consulting with one another on their cases. Something akin to a partnership. Then there was the idea of having her look into the note. That meant actually trusting this woman.

      He couldn’t explain all that. Instead he kept it simple. “I guess it is. I’ve spoken with Ben and he says I would be crazy to let you pass by. In fact, he’s waiting in the wings to scoop you up if I do.”

      Another fact that rankled him. If he didn’t hire her and she worked for Ben, he might run into her at Ben’s office. How irritating would it be to find her solving cases for Ben while he was left with someone less talented?

      No doubt Ben would lord it over him.

      “Okay,” JoJo said, “we’ll make it a challenge. I bet I can leave and, within half an hour, be in your line of sight without you realizing it’s me.”

      “That’s totally awesome. Mark, you have to let her do it.”

      Mark gave his daughter a wry smile. Maybe he could impress her at last. “JoJo, you do realize I was a CIA black-ops analyst in the field for years.”

      Sophie rolled her eyes. “And years and years...”

      Okay, maybe not.

      “Observation is what I do. It’s how I survived. You can’t get past me. Especially not with the tattoos.”

      JoJo held out her hand. “It’s a bet then. I do this, I get the job. You win, you get to show off your observation skills to your daughter. The only thing you’re out is a half hour of your time.”

      “We were going to go eat—”

      “Are you kidding me?” Sophie said. “I’m not leaving. I want to see this.”

      JoJo winked at Sophie and his daughter smiled. Great, he thought. She’d known this woman for minutes and they had bonded more than he had with his daughter in months.

      He did need another agent. Especially if the threat against Sophie was real. JoJo’s résumé did speak for itself....

      Not that he was worried about losing, but he conceded that, if she pulled off the impossible, it wouldn’t be the worst thing from a professional standpoint.

      Personal, maybe, but he could get over that. He would get over that.

      He looked at his watch and pressed the timer.

      “You have thirty minutes. You must be in my line of sight. If I identify you, I win. If I don’t, you’re hired. Go.”

      She didn’t run. She didn’t leave through the front door, which was what he would have done. Much better to be someone coming in that way, then coming down the elevator where he could concentrate his attention.

      Instead, she sauntered to the elevators in that same efficient, but also aggressive, walk of hers. A walk that said, Get out of my way, I’m coming through. She stepped through the door and Mark leaned back to wait.

      Thirty minutes. He wished he had a magazine to help kill the time.

      CHAPTER THREE

      MARK CHECKED HIS WATCH. Twenty-three minutes had passed. He watched the elevators for activity then swung his attention to the front entrance. A man and woman walked in, but a quick assessment told him the woman was well over fifty. Not that makeup couldn’t do wonders, but JoJo wouldn’t have had enough time to put together a costume like that.

      He turned to the elevators and spied a family getting out. A mother, a father and a teenage boy who was dressed from head to toe in black and carried a skateboard over his shoulder.

      At least he looked like a boy. Mark kept his attention on the kid, searching for tells. There was a tattoo on his arm, but nothing around his neck. Was that sparkle on his face a nose ring? He heard Sophie gasp—clearly she was wondering the same thing.

      Had JoJo, a small woman, turned herself into an average-sized teenage boy?

      The front door opened again and a single woman walked in. Tall, blond, pretty, wearing a shockingly red coat over a short skirt and high heels. Mark assessed her quickly, and decided anyone trying to blend in wouldn’t wear such an eye-catching color, nor something so provocative as the short skirt. It would naturally draw the attention of any man in the vicinity. It, in fact, drew his. Her legs were fabulous.

      Still, there was something about the way she moved. Mark’s gaze followed her to the desk, where she asked to use a phone. She tucked her hair behind her ear as she held the receiver to her ear. Mark could not see tattoos on her neck.

      “Twenty-eight minutes,” Sophie announced.

      Mark stood to scope out hiding spots around the lobby where she could claim to be in his line of sight, but actually be hidden from view. The people working behind the desk hadn’t changed, so she hadn’t sneaked in that way. The family stood together, using the lobby computer. The boy had his back to Mark, so he couldn’t check for blue eyes. Instead Mark studied the shape of his back, his height.

      Close. Definitely close to JoJo’s height. Had she paid the two people to pose as parents?

      “Twenty-nine minutes. She’s so going to win.”

      Mark shot Sophie a glance and started toward the kid. A motion in his periphery caught his attention. The woman on the phone had lifted a leg up behind her. He followed that beautiful leg to her shoes.

      Not just high heels. Platform high heels. They raised her height by at least two inches.

      Gotcha.

      “Time is up. Who is she?”

      Mark looked at his daughter. “Do you know?”

      “I have my suspicions.” Her smile was smug.

      Smiling. Sophie was smiling. Mark looked at the blonde again. She had turned and he briefly caught her eye, but she bent her head and continued talking into the phone.

      “You think that’s her?” Mark pointed toward the kid.

      Sophie’s face fell a little. She obviously thought JoJo was the boy, and that he had won. He wasn’t sure if Sophie was displeased that he had won or that JoJo had lost.

      It had been a very short time for two people to make such a positive connection. There were worse things than his daughter liking someone Mark employed.

      He was throwing the contest, but in all of the time he had spent with Sophie, this was the most fun they had ever had. Deliberately, he went over and tapped the kid on the shoulder. The boy turned around, his Adam’s apple clearly visible. “What?”

      “Oh, sorry,” Mark said. “I mistook you for someone else.”

      “Whatever.”

      Ah, yes, Mark’s favorite word. The kid turned around and Mark could see the father shoot him a look, but Mark simply folded his arms over his chest and waited.

      The blonde made her way to him sporting a victorious smile.

      “Oh, my God, I totally did not guess that was you,” Sophie said hopping up and down on her toes with excitement. “How did you hide the tattoos?”

      “A trick I learned from Hollywood actresses.” JoJo tilted her neck and peeled off a thin layer of beige tape. “They use this stuff when they’re filming.”

      Effective, at least from a distance. Up close, Mark could see the faint outline of the tape on the other side of her neck. That was probably why she hadn’t used the adhesive during her interview.

      “Not bad. Hiding in plain sight. It worked.”

      “Did it?” JoJo asked. Their eyes met. She clearly knew she’d been caught. She wasn’t counting on Mark throwing the contest.

      Sophie looked at him.

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