"Not today. I need to get to the preschool.”
"Where is it? I’ll ride along,” she said recklessly. She couldn’t take time off from work in the morning. She’d already taken a lot of time off to do her part in settling her grandmother’s estate and getting the old antebellum home ready for sale.
Her boss had been understanding, but there was a limit.
Joshua looked at her in surprise. "I don’t do business in my car.”
Planting herself directly in front of him, Michelle stared up into his face. She was determined for him to at least listen to her.
Joshua looked at her, noticing for the first time how tall she was. She had to be five foot nine or ten. Most women made him feel like Gulliver in Lilliput Land. Not this one. She came to his chin and for one crazy moment he realized how easy it would be to kiss her—no contortions like he normally needed with the shorter women he dated.
When he dated.
Which hadn’t been often in the last year.
Of course, if he’d met someone like this before, he might have been inclined to make more of an effort.
He shook his head. He didn’t have time for such idle speculation—he had a deadline to meet. Any interest in a new case came second to his little girl.
“What’s your name?’’ he asked.
“Michelle Talmadge.”
“Well, Michelle Talmadge, I have a kid to pick up. I can’t be late. Not again. If you would call in the morning—”
“Maybe I should just try elsewhere,” she said sharply.
Joshua took a deep breath. He needed the money. Things hadn’t gone smoothly over the last year because of all the changes in his life with the arrival on his doorstep of his daughter Penny. He couldn’t afford to turn away work.
But neither could he afford to be late again. The day care center had been extremely clear about that.
“Come on, then, Michelle Talmadge. Ever consider a career in private investigation? You’re tenacious enough to qualify.”
Michelle shook her head as she followed him down the hall and struggled to keep up with his long, impatient stride.
Joshua wasn't going to slow down. She could keep up or come another time.
When he stopped beside a beat-up old vehicle, she looked at it in surprise.
“This is your car?”
He smiled sardonically and opened his door. “Climb in, it’s not locked. Who’d want to steal this wreck?”
Almost nodding in agreement, Michelle opened the passenger door, wincing at the loud screech it emitted. Gingerly she slid onto the seat. Surprisingly the inside of the car was immaculate. Ignoring the screech, she pulled the door shut with a strong thump.
He started the car, the engine turning over instantly, almost purring. Cool air was soon blasting from the vents.
“Sounds all right, anyway,” she murmured, buckling her seat belt.
“Camouflage,” he muttered. “Some of the places I go I don’t want people to notice me. Who pays attention to a beat- up old car? But she has a top-notch engine.”
She held on for dear life as he roared out to the parking garage as if to prove the prowess of the engine. Minutes later they were embroiled in New Orleans’ rush hour traffic. They crawled along Magnolia Street, inching through four traffic signals before turning onto Canal Street.
Joshua wasn’t the most patient of men. He beat a rough tattoo on the steering wheel, muttering under his breath and checking his watch at least once a minute. It might be faster to just get out and walk.
Michelle cleared her throat.
“About my hiring you,” she said.
Joshua looked at her. “Okay, babe, let’s hear the scoop.”
Michelle winced.
Joshua slammed on brakes just missed crashing into the back of the car in front of them.
From the corner of his eye, he saw her wince again.
“I want you to locate my father,” she said, staring out the windshield, as if afraid to take her eyes off the traffic. Maybe she wanted to brace herself for an impact.
“Name?”
“Sam Williams.”
“Age?”
“I don’t know exactly.” She needed to explain to the man she didn’t remember her father, that he’d left when she’d been just a toddler.
“Have a birth certificate?”
“For him?” she asked.
“No, for you.”
“Yes. My sister has it with other family papers. I can get it.”
‘‘His age and place of birth should be on that. Unless your mother didn’t name him as the father.”
Michelle drew herself up, turning outraged eyes on the man.
“Of course my mother would have listed him as the father. They’d been married for years by the time I came along. They were very much in love.”
Joshua snorted, and leaned on the horn as a motorcyclist tried to cut in. The man shot a look at Joshua and accelerated between two other cars, weaving his way through traffic.
“I should get one of those,” Joshua muttered.
“Mr. O’Malley.”
“Call me Josh, and I’ll call you Michelle. So how long has your father been missing? And why don’t you know how old he is?”
“He left Baton Rouge when I was two. That’s twenty- three years ago.”
He turned and looked at her. “Any reason for the delay in looking into this? I mean twenty-three years is a lot of time to sit on a missing person report. Didn’t you notice he was missing during that time?”
“Actually, I’m not sure he considers himself missing. There were extenuating circumstances regarding his leaving. In fact, until just a few months ago, we thought he'd left voluntarily. Then we discovered he hadn’t.”
She twisted the straps of her purse and cringed when he pulled around a slow car, accelerated strongly then slammed on the brakes. They’d gained about fifty feet. Now traffic ahead of them was at a standstill.
“Blast it.” Joshua pounded the stirring wheel again.
“Is there a problem?” Michelle asked, wondering if she’d made a tactical mistake in insisting she go with him. His driving skills were frightening. Maybe skills was too strong a word. She hoped she survived the experience long enough to reap any of the benefit hiring a private investigator might provide.
“I can’t believe
