But her own emotions concerning her lover-client were rapidly becoming more convoluted and complex than the case itself.
She had an unnerving suspicion that this was how it felt to fall in love.
The downtown section of New Seattle was festively decorated for Founders' Day. Banners snapped in the breeze. Restaurants advertised first generation-style beer and old-fashioned Founders' burgers and traditional pear-berry pie. Signs were posted warning that the streets were to be cleared of all parked vehicles two hours before the evening parade began.
The Friends of the Library had erected a display of a huge book made entirely of various colored flowers in front of the public library. It represented one of the first generation hand-made books that the colonists crafted in their desperate attempt to preserve some of the knowledge trapped in their disintegrating computer data bases. Orchid was forced to blink rapidly for a few seconds as she drove past the inspiring flower sculpture. Everyone was entitled to a few tears of pride on Founders' Day, she told herself.
Fifteen minutes later she walked through the door of Psynergy, Inc.
"Happy Founders' Day, Byron. Got my check?"
Byron looked up from the gossip column of his favorite tabloid, Synsation. He stared at her over the rims of his purple spectacles. His expression was one of fasci nated horror.
"Run. Run while you still can," he hissed as he glanced wildly over his shoulder toward the closed door of Clementine's office. "Run for your life. Save yourself."
"I'm not running anywhere until I get my paycheck.'' Orchid walked to the desk, pushed aside a stack of "Think Exclusive" posters, and glanced down at the open page of Synsation. "What's the big news today? Any more alien abductions reported?'"
"Nothing so tame and ordinary." He stabbed at a picture on the page. "Take a good look."
Orchid studied the grainy photo. It showed a couple getting out of a car in front of a large, sprawling mansion. The picture had obviously been shot from a long distance. Nevertheless, the car looked vaguely familiar. So did the sleek set of the shoulders of the man whose face was turned partially away from the camera. When she looked closer she was almost certain she recognized the vee that dipped to the waist of the slim-fitting gown the woman wore.
"Good heavens, that isn't—?"
"You and Rafe Stonebraker?" Byron grinned malevolently. "Indeed it is, my dear. The Stonebraker birthday party is one of the social events of the year and," he paused for emphasis, "you were there."
Orchid grimaced. "I can't imagine why anyone bothered to take a picture of me."
"I hate to be crass about it, but I doubt if anyone would have bothered to get a shot of you had you not been on the arm of the heir apparent to the Stonebraker dynasty."
"Oh, yeah. Right. I forgot about that part." Orchid straightened, chuckling. "Thanks, Byron. You do know how to put a person in her place. Got my check?"
"Yes, but I don't think there's any big rush to give it to you."
"Why not, pray tell?"
Byron winced as Clementine's door crashed open. "Because the boss is going to murder you long before you ever reach the bank."
"What?" Orchid looked across the room, straight into the face of a charging buzz-saw. "Uh oh."
"Five hells, Orchid Adams, I ought to fire your ass," Clementine slapped a copy of the New Seattle Times against her leather-clad thigh. "How could you do this to me? After all I've done for you."
"All you ever did for me was give me a part-time job, Clementine. You were in desperate need of a full-spectrum ice-prism, as I recall. So were a number of other focus agencies in town." Orchid glanced at the newspaper. "What seems to be the problem here?"
"Problem?" Clementine's voice rose. "I'll tell you what the problem is. You went to the hottest social event in town last night and the damn newspapers got everything wrong. You screwed up the single most important opportunity anyone at Psynergy, Inc., has had in recent memory to project our new exclusive image, that's what's wrong."
"The real question," Byron murmured behind his newspaper, "is did she also screw the single, most important client Psynergy, Inc., happens to have at the moment. Enquiring minds—"
Orchid glared at him. "Shut up, Byron, or I will personally stuff every single one of those 'Think Exclusive' posters down your throat."
"Yes, ma'am." He buried his nose in Synsation.
Orchid turned back to Clementine. "What do you mean the newspapers got everything wrong?"
"You're identified as Rafe Stonebraker's agency date," Clementine said in ominous tones.
"So?"
"The damned society reporter makes it sound as though you were from a matchmaking agency, not a focus agency. What's more, he didn't even get Psynergy, Inc's name into the article."
Orchid exhaled deeply. "Clementine, I'm working undercover, remember? Rafe wanted to pass me off as a marriage agency date last night. He doesn't want anyone to know I'm working with him on a professional basis."
"But it was such a perfect opportunity to promote Psynergy, Inc., as an exclusive focus agency."
She looked so woebegone that Orchid felt sorry for her. She crossed the room to pat Clementine's broad shoulder.
"There, there. I promise that when this is all over, I'll get Rafe to mention Psynergy, Inc., to some of his friends. Okay?"
"I guess that's the best we can hope for now that you've wasted this incredible opportunity."
"That's the spirit. Now, can I please have my check?"
"Sure, sure. Give her the check, Byron." Clementine eyed Orchid closely. "Uh, there's just one other small thing."
Orchid took the envelope Byron handed to her. "What's that?"
"All that stuff in the paper about Rafe Stonebraker parading his so-called agency date in front of his family and the members of the board of directors of Stonebraker Shipping—?"
"What about it?"
"That was just part of the cover you and Stonebraker established, right? There wasn't any truth in it, was there?"
"Don't be ridiculous." Orchid walked very quickly toward the door. "Have a great Founders' Day."
She flung the door open and fled down the hall to the elevator.
By the time she reached the street, she had herself firmly under control. The sign above the entrance to the espresso shop across the street caught her eye.
The decision to waste a few minutes having a coff-tea latte by herself was an impromptu one. As soon as she sat down at one of the small tables however, she knew she had done the right thing.
She needed to think about Rafe. She could not do that very clearly when he was in the vicinity.
Unfortunately, she discovered as she sipped her latte and stared at the poster-covered wall, it was not easy to think clearly about him when he was safely out of sight, either.
A shadow fell across her tiny table. Visions of ski-masked men flashed before her eyes. She jerked, spilling several drops of her latte.
"Sorry," Selby Culverthorpe gave her a cool smile. "Didn't mean to startle you."
She composed herself and carefully set down her cup. "Did you follow me, Mr. Culverthorpe?"
"I did some checking this morning. There was some confusion last night about which matchmaking agency you're registered with."
"Is that so?"
"In the process of sorting it out, I discovered that you work part-time at Psynergy, Inc. I was on my way there to see if the staff would help me contact you when I saw you walk out the door and head for this espresso bar."
"Mr. Culverthorpe—"
"Call me Selby. After all, we were properly introduced last night. Mind if I sit down?"
She could not come up with any reason to refuse. The introduction to Selby and his wife, Briana, at the party had been fleeting at best but it had been made by Rafe's grandmother. Orchid knew she could not be rude without a very good excuse, which she did not yet have.