she would not allow her claims to be ignored. She was no longer the terrified, hysterical widow whom federal agents had blown off before.
Jeremy bustled into the office, hurrying across the Berber carpet between the cluttered desk and the sitting area. “Good,” he said, glancing between Wally and Dianna. “You’re both here.” He took a seat on an orange-and-blue upholstered chair that clashed with Dianna’s blue-and-gray one, and tugged on his pants legs to arrange them. “I’ve settled Julie in my office doing homework. He’ll be here in a minute.”
“Who?” Dianna asked, but before he could respond, she continued, “Look, before whoever it is gets here, I have something I need to tell you.” She related what had happened on the plaza.
“Oh, no!” Jeremy rose by his seat. “Are you okay?”
Dianna assured them both—falsely—that she was. The experience had shaken her more than she dared to admit.
Farley was getting more blatant. Now he was even hiring people to frighten her. She wouldn’t know whom she could trust.
See you soon. The man’s words echoed in her head. She didn’t want to think about it…but how could she avoid him, if he stood right outside their building? Beware…
“Damn!” Jeremy said. “Well, you’ll have an opportunity to tell the right person soon. The head of our new security company is coming. He demanded this meeting, said he has something important to talk about. He didn’t sound happy. Maybe he already knows what’s going on.”
“I certainly hope so,” Wally stated. He was seated again, and his scowl added creases to his wrinkly, round face.
“If he doesn’t know now, we’ll make sure he jumps right on it,” Jeremy asserted, as usual assuming leadership.
The partnership between her bosses reminded Dianna of pairs of comedians from the past, since Jeremy was so much thinner than his counterpart. His perfectionism in business dealings carried through to his appearance, for even when he removed a tailored suit jacket, as he had for this meeting, his shirts were clearly of fine quality cottons or silks.
But the similarity to comedic teams stopped with their appearances. Though both men were kind, they tended to be serious. Neither was prone to crack jokes.
They both seemed equally rattled now.
“Look,” she said placatingly. “It wasn’t—”
A sound from outside Wally’s office interrupted her. Beth Baines, the attractive African-American receptionist, poked her head in. “Mr. Flynn is here with another man,” she said.
“Send them in,” Jeremy said. “Although Cal didn’t mention anyone else.”
Two men entered—and Dianna rose, clenching one fist so tightly that her nails dug into her skin.
Thank heavens. The new security team had come through.
Only—was she supposed to take part in the interrogation? “No,” she whispered aloud. She wanted no part of it.
One of the men, bulky and wearing a blue uniform, Dianna recognized from the group manning the metal detectors and conducting random searches of visitors at the building’s entry. He was obviously a representative of the security company.
But the other—it was the good-looking juggler from the courtyard. The man who’d unnerved Dianna. He strode confidently inside, followed by Julie.
“Are you going to show us more card tricks?” the child asked, her eyes aglow once more. Dianna wanted to whisk her from the room. Julie didn’t belong near this unpleasantness.
“Not now,” the man said with a smile. “I’ve some tricks to discuss with the adults.”
Tricks? Shakily, Dianna said to Julie, “Go back to your dad’s office, honey, and finish your homework. I’ll come help when we’re done here.” She gave the child a hug.
“Okay.” Julie’s look was baleful, but she obeyed.
The other man closed the office door behind her.
“What’s going on, Flynn?” Jeremy demanded. “Who is this?”
“He’s the man I told you about,” Dianna said coolly. “The one who tried to scare me outside on the plaza. He must have been hired by Farley.”
She glared at him, but he laughed aloud. Dianna felt her temper flare. Who was he?
She was able to ignore him for a moment as the uniformed man approached, holding out a hand. It felt like refrigerated meat as she shook it briefly, then let go.
“Ms. Englander.” He ducked his head as if in deference. His hair was light brown, and he had a bald spot at the crown. “I should have introduced myself before. I’m Cal Flynn, president of Flynn Security. I’ve stationed myself right alongside my staff because of the sensitive nature of the situation. Mr. Alberts called us in after you saw Glen Farley the first time.”
“That’s right,” Jeremy agreed. He sat again in the chair across from Dianna. “Flynn’s outfit is already making a lot of changes in the Center’s security.”
Cal Flynn’s smile broadened, revealing teeth so perfect Dianna wondered if he’d had them knocked out in the course of security assignments and replaced artificially.
Flynn continued, “Jeremy said you recently spotted the suspect a second time, and that you informed the police.”
That wasn’t exactly true. Dianna had mentioned it to her contact at the local police station, a community relations officer. It had been an offhand reference, but she’d told Jeremy nevertheless.
“That was fine, of course, but it would have been better if you let us handle the notification, since—”
“Since his feelings have been hurt,” said the juggler. He also approached Dianna, all but shouldering Flynn aside. His hand was out, too, but not to shake hers. He held a small leather case.
Dianna took the case, then glanced up at his face in surprise as she handed it back.
It was his ID. He was Lt. Travis Bronson of the Los Angeles Police Department.
“Who is he?” Wally’s voice nearly exploded from behind his desk.
Dianna told him as the police officer and security man took seats at opposite ends of the couch.
Flynn faced Lt. Bronson. “We certainly appreciate your interest and help, sir, but we have things under control.”
Dianna doubted that. Farley was a murderer. And they certainly hadn’t captured him.
In any event, she had a lot of questions. She asked the first. “Why were you outside juggling, of all things, Lieutenant?”
“Keeping an eye on everything,” he said. “We’ve other guys posted around here undercover, too.”
“Aren’t you a bit obvious, with all your—” she wanted to say “gyrations,” but that word brought back too clearly her own reaction to his sexy moves “—juggling?” she finished lamely. “And tricks.”
“Ah, but what better way to draw people near so I can observe them?” The archness of his grin suggested he knew just what she had been thinking.
“But why?” Jeremy asked almost peevishly. “We’ve hired the best security there is. What’s going on here?” He took a position beside Wally’s desk. His arms were folded, and a scowl puckered his long face.
Lt. Bronson rose. He looked directly at Dianna. “Because you’re in danger.”
“What?” Wally drew his bulk from behind the desk and crossed to stand protectively beside Dianna. He put his hand on her shoulder. “Even if she saw Farley, that doesn’t necessarily mean—”
“Oh, it means a lot,” the cop said.
Dianna