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They hurried out of the office to join others hurrying through the suite of offices and out to the stairs. On the street, after a long descent, Torie, Paul, and other people from the building milled around, waiting for the firemen to give an all clear.

Martha scurried up, her sharp features set in disapproving lines.

“What is it?” Paul asked.

“Melvin Jr.,” she whispered. “He said he was just checking to see that you were out, but I was helping Elsa get Mister Pratt Sr. down the stairs and saw him coming out of our offices.”

“Really?” Paul frowned.

As they watched, Melvin Jr. pushed through the crowd to Paul’s side. “Paul, I wanted to…” He noted Torie’s presence, and his eyes widened. “Well, hello, Torie.”

He held out a hand and Torie shook it, then let go as quickly as she could. Melvin, Todd, and Paul had all been in law school together, and in the same fraternity. Once Todd left the country, Melvin had asked Torie out several times.

She’d declined. He was just…unpleasant.

“Hello, Melvin. How are you?”

He smiled and motioned to indicate the crowd on the sidewalk. “I’ve been better. This is certainly not the way I’d expected to meet you again. I trust you’ve been well?”

“As well as can be expected, yes.”

Melvin looked surprised for a moment, then seemed to remember she’d had troubles. “Oh, I’m sorry. I did hear about your house. And Todd, of course. My apologies. And my sympathy.”

“Thank you.”

“Melvin, I understand you were in my office?” Paul went right to the heart of the matter.

“Yes, I thought I saw someone in there. There was someone coming out of your office as I came out of the stairwell, and I yelled and he ran. I don’t think anything was taken, but I can’t be sure. I was coming to tell you before I found the police.”

Melvin pivoted and scanned the crowd. “There, there’s an officer. Let’s go over. My father’s over there as well. Good.”

Torie and Paul exchanged glances behind Melvin’s back.

“Do you believe him?” Torie whispered.

Paul simply shook his head in the negative.

They walked up in time to hear Melvin Sr. saying, “Yes, and my son saw someone coming out of one of our partner’s offices.”

Melvin Jr. froze in his tracks. Torie almost plowed into his back. Paul’s hands steadied her, but she felt a tremble in them.

“Whose office would that be, Mister Pratt?” the officer asked.

“Ah, there he is. Thank you, Melvin, for fetching Paul for me.” The older man had a wheeze to his voice, and coughed a bit. “Excuse me, I don’t usually take the stairs, much less in haste.” He coughed again, more vigorously this time. “Paul, you need to talk to the officer, and let him go into your office with you when we get the all clear. Melvin here says he surprised someone coming out of your suite.”

“So, Mister, uh…”

“Jameson. Paul Jameson.”

“You’re a partner here at Pratt and Legend?”

“He is. Just got the promotion this morning, so he’s not used to it yet,” Pratt Sr. interjected. “Missed the meeting, Jameson. You could’ve gotten the news firsthand, otherwise…” The old man shot him a sly smile before he began coughing again.

“Sir, do you want to see the EMTs?” Torie moved to his side. She was concerned about how pale he was. Her father had gotten wheezy, coughed that way when his heart was acting up. “Perhaps just a whiff of oxygen will help you clear up that shortness of breath.”

The cop didn’t wait to hear the old man’s answer, and Torie was glad of it. He tucked his notes away and hustled over to the waiting ambulance. The loitering EMTs snatched up some gear and came over.

“I’m fine, really,” the senior lawyer complained.

“Sir,” Torie said firmly, “you don’t want your family to worry.” She refused to look at Melvin Jr. “And,” she lowered her voice, “if you let them give you oxygen now, you’ll probably be able to walk back into the building. If you don’t, they’ll insist you go to the hospital.”

The old man harrumphed and muttered, but he talked to the EMTs and allowed them to fit an oxygen mask over his face. His color cleared immediately and he began to breathe easily.

The older man gave Torie an appraising glance, and then, to her surprise, winked.

She smiled at him and looked away so she wouldn’t laugh. It felt good to laugh. Heaven knew she hadn’t had much reason for humor over the last few weeks.

“It’s clear, gentlemen.” A fire captain came over to give them the news. “We found where the alarm had been pulled.”

“Damn pranksters,” Pratt Sr. declared, pulling off the oxygen mask and carefully standing up. “Thank you, gentlemen,” he said to the EMTs as he passed the mask back to them. One of the EMTs spoke quietly to him and he nodded, shooting a glance at Torie as he did. “I’ll do that. Thank you,” she heard him say.

“Now, let’s get back in the building and use the elevator this time.”

On their way into the building, Torie and Paul exchanged glances. “Are you going to call Tibbet?” she asked.

“Of course.”

In Paul’s area, the officer asked him to look around, without touching anything, to assess if anything was missing. “Officer, you may want to contact Detective Tibbet. My client,” he said as he indicated Torie, “has had considerable difficulties in the last few weeks, and this might be another attempt to scare or intimidate her.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll contact the detective.”

Torie was watching Paul. He was a good poker player, she was sure. Nothing showed on his face as he scanned the desk, the table where they’d been working, and the credenza behind his desk.

“Everything seems to be here,” he said finally.

“But not at my desk,” Martha said, coming in from the assistant’s area. “My PDA is missing.”

“Could you have taken it with you, or knocked it over in your haste to leave?” the officer asked.

Martha froze him with a look. “Absolutely not, young man. It was in a locked desk drawer, hooked to the charging station. It was deliberate.”

The young officer blushed, but got busy calling Tibbet. Once done with that, he also summoned the crime scene techs, at Tibbet’s request.

Martha’s phone rang and she picked it up. Her eyebrows rose as she looked at both Torie and Paul, but she concluded the call quickly. “Mister Jameson, if we could speak in private for a moment?”

“Certainly. If you’ll excuse us?”

Torie watched them, but could discern nothing from their body language. Although she’d slept well, she was beginning to fade. It was lunchtime, and she’d not eaten anything.

“Let’s go,” Paul said, taking her arm to ease her around the arriving officers. “Tibbet can come over to O’Briens if he wants to see us.”

“Where are we going?”

“We’re getting lunch. You’re too pale, your hands are shaking, and I’m starving.”

“Wait a sec,” Torie said, remembering her shopping. “Missus Prinz,” she said to Martha, “would you mind checking the items I left with you?”

Martha’s lips tightened, but she turned to the nearly invisible closet door in the paneling. Opening it up, she gasped.

“No. No argument,” Paul insisted as they left the building at the end of the day. They’d spent the afternoon with the police going over what had happened to Torie’s things. The shredded garments from Martha’s closet were now in Tibbet’s hands. They’d been notified that they could pick up the few undamaged clothes from the Suites, since they were ready to release the room as a crime scene. According to Tibbet, there wasn’t much left, so Torie would have to go shopping again.

“Until we can find you a new bodyguard, you aren’t going anywhere alone, much less staying alone. I’d rather have you in my guest room than have both of us staying at some characterless hotel. We’ll pick up your remaining things and head to my place.”