Fall from India Place (On Dublin Street 4)

“Yes. He gave me a check last night for two weeks’ rent and I’ve had it delivered to the owner. The staff at the building has the keys ready for him at the front desk. Let’s stock up the place for him with food, any appliances he might need, and dog food, I suppose. I thought we could surprise him with Angus,” Ian said, picking up a piece of paper and handing it to her. “Here’s the address in my building, along with the name of the woman watching Angus in France. I don’t have her number, but she lives in the village. It’s tiny, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find and contact her,” Ian said, opening his laptop and tapping out his password.

“I’ll have one of the administrative assistants see to the details,” she assured, glancing at the paper he’d handed her and turning to go. “Oh, and it’s Friday, so I have dance practice. I’ll have to be out of here by five,” she reminded him. It was the only day of the week she routinely left the office before eight or nine in the evening, and that often was true for weekends as well. Too often.

“I remember,” he said, and by the distracted tone of his voice, Lin knew he was already absorbed by whatever he was studying on his computer screen. She had long ago become used to Ian’s ability to shut everything out as he focused, including her.

•   •   •

At five that evening Lin headed for the door, her packed briefcase on her shoulder. Her gaze lingered on the phone on her desk. She paused.

She’d been telling herself to call Kam, but had managed to put it off for one reason or another. They had a lot of details that needed to be addressed for the Klinf meeting for Saturday and the Gersbach demonstration of his mechanism, plus she’d scheduled another facility tour for him with one of Noble’s technology suppliers early next week. Now the day was done, and she still hadn’t called.

Had she been half hoping he’d be the one to call, or even show up at Noble Enterprises wanting to speak with her?

She sighed irritably and exited her office. On the way out, she passed Maria Chase’s desk and heard her talking rapidly in French. Among the four administrative assistants that worked for both Ian and Lin, they covered the gamut of the majority of languages spoken on the globe. Lin’s French was spotty, but she recognized enough of what Maria said to slow in front of the admin’s desk, listening. Maria noticed her and smiled as she signed off and hung up.

“You were able to find the woman who is watching Kam’s dog?” Lin asked.

“Yes. I made arrangements with her,” Maria said, holding up a pad of paper with neatly written details on it. “I was about to call and arrange for a courier service to pick up the dog and take it to the airport.”

“Can you fill me in on the all the details?” Lin asked impulsively. For some reason she very much wanted to see Kam’s reaction when he realized his dog had become an international traveler and was there to make him feel a little more at home in Chicago.

•   •   •

Kam glowered at the doorman, the unlikely guard for Lin’s luxurious, supermodern high-rise. The middle-aged man puffed out his skinny, concave chest.

“I’m sorry, sir. Those are the rules. I can’t let up anyone up onto the resident floors unless the owner gives permission. Ms. Soong isn’t even home. She’s never home at this time of day, anyway,” he said, his patronizing manner amplifying Kam’s annoyance. Kam checked his watch.

“It’s going on seven. How late does she work?”

The doorman rolled his eyes. “You obviously don’t know Ms. Soong very well.”

He leaned forward menacingly. “Listen you puffed-up little—”

“Hello,” a man said next to him in a French-accented, stuffy-sounding voice.

Kam glanced aside distractedly and did a double take, recognizing the face smiling back at him.

“Richard St. Claire,” the dark-haired man said, ending with a nasty-sounding cough. He transferred an obviously used, crumpled tissue to his left hand and extended his right for a handshake. Before Kam had a chance to give him a you’ve got to be kidding me glance, Richard’s face quivered as though a sudden pain had come over him. He turned and sneezed loudly.

“Damn flu,” he mumbled hoarsely, wiping his nose.

“You really shouldn’t be out of bed, Mr. St. Claire,” the doorman said disapprovingly.

“I know, but I had to run out for some Tylenol.” He focused watery eyes on Kam.

“You’re the guy from the restaurant the other night. Lin’s friend,” Kam said.

“That’s right. I assume you’re looking for her?”

“Yeah. I’ll try her office,” Kam said, starting to move past Richard.

“You won’t find her there, either.”

Kam glanced back.

“It’s Friday. The one and only day Lin ever leaves Noble Enterprises before eight,” Richard said.

“And where would she be then?” Kam asked with sarcastic politeness when Richard didn’t continue, just studied him with a smug smile.

“If I tell you, you won’t do something to make me regret it, will you?”

“Do I look like someone who is out to cause trouble?”

Richard’s gaze dropped over him, a glint of admiration in his eyes. “That’s exactly what you look like.” He sighed when he noticed Kam’s frown. “But I suppose I can use the excuse of a fever if Lin calls me on it. Besides, she could use a little trouble in her life,” Kam thought he heard him mutter under his breath. “She’s at the Community Arts Center on Dearborn and Astor. Two blocks west of here. She goes for dance lessons every Friday. Main auditorium.”