Anarchy Found (SuperAlpha, #1)(18)

“That won’t be necessary. I’m sure it will be better tonight when we get a handle on this case and figure out what happened.”

“You don’t think it was a suicide?”

Jesus Christ, Masters! Keep your f*cking mouth shut!

“Just protocol,” I say with a smile. “We have to look at all angles.” He looks at me for a moment and then nods and turns away. I follow him down the hallway and into his office.

“I don’t have much time, so this briefing will have to be quick.”

“Perfect,” I say, taking a slurp of my now-cold coffee. I make a face and force myself to swallow.

“Oh,” he says, noticing my grimace. “But let’s have breakfast. You haven’t eaten yet?”

“No,” I say. “I don’t eat in the mornings. It makes me sick.”

“Mmm,” he mutters. He wraps my hands around his forearm like he’s my chaperone. “Humor me for a little while, will you?”

Great. I’ll probably end up here all morning. But I go along because I have no other choice. This is the real world and after a lifetime in the circus and years in the military, I’m once again a part of it.

We don’t walk back to the elevator the way we came, instead he pushes a button on his watch, and a panel slides up on the far wall revealing an elevator. “Private,” he says, like he knows the questions popping into my mind.

“You like things private, don’t you, Mr. Montgomery.”

“That I do,” he says, waving me towards the opening doors.

I enter, he follows, and we ride it up one floor. And when the doors open we find ourselves in a small dining room that has soft music playing and one table with one man sitting at it. The view is amazing—not that Atticus Montgomery’s office view wasn’t, but this view is through windows two stories tall that slant up into the pitched glass roof of the crystal spire.

“It’s amazing at night,” Montgomery says. I look over at him and his smile disarms me for a moment. “I’ll have to have you up for drinks some time so you can see it. This spire is the executive dining room. But there’s another one my father calls his office over there.”

I look out the window to my right, spy the other spire he’s referring to, and raise my eyebrows, unsure what to make of this man. Surely he’s not flirting with me. Dear circus god, please, please, please do not let this man make a move on me today. I just don’t have the energy for it.

He places a hand on the small of my back, forcing me to move forward into the room to avoid his touch. But before I can get over that little maneuver, he’s wrapping my hand around his arm again, leading me towards a table. We stop in front of the older gentleman eating eggs Benedict and reading the stock report on a tablet.

“Detective Masters, my father, Alastair Montgomery.”

Alastair Montgomery does not look up or greet me with anything more than an uninterested grunt. Atticus pulls out a chair and I force myself to take a seat. Be sweet, Molly. You’ll get out of here much faster by playing along. “Thank you, Mr. Montgomery.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he says, taking his own seat next to me. “But my father is Mr. Montgomery and I am just Atticus.”

Before I can reply, Montgomery senior barks, “Did you find out what that mess down on twenty-one was all about?” Still, he does not look up. Like I am not even worthy of his gaze.

“No, sir,” I say as politely as I can. “I’m afraid this case will require a little more effort than one afternoon of questioning.”

“Then why are you here?” He looks up. And his anger is as ugly as his indifference. It lingers on me and then focuses on his son.

Atticus might be a powerful snob just like his father, but his demeanor is one of patience. To my horror, I find myself leaning in his direction, seeking some sign that he’s not going to throw me to his wolf of a father.

“Don’t mind the old man, Detective,” Atticus says, breaking the silence left by my speechlessness. “He has no use for manners these days.”

“I don’t need manners,” Montgomery senior barks at his son. “Two dead bodies were found in my building, Atticus. So it’s only natural that I expect answers. What I don’t expect is to be breakfasting with the CCPD’s rookie detective in my private dining room.”

“OK,” I say, pushing back from the table and looking at Atticus. “I’m going back to work. Your father is right. Thank you for the offer, but I—”

“I’ll join you. I’ve already eaten.”

“But—”

He cuts me off with a look. Something in his eyes that says, Quiet. He mutters a half-hearted goodbye and leads me back to the elevator.

When the doors close, sealing us off, I shake my head. “Well, that was awkward.”

“Awkward doesn’t even come close, Detective Masters. But now you know.” He stares down at me with an intensity that makes my heart skip a beat.

“Now I know what?”

“What you’re up against.” A small smile forms as the elevator car descends. Floors fly by. “How high the stakes are,” he continues. “And maybe a minute of rude conversation isn’t enough for most people to make a decision about a person, but I think it was enough for you. Detective Molly Masters is not most people, is she?” He cocks his head at me and drops the pretense of a smile just as the elevator stops and the doors open to the lobby. “I’ll get in touch with you about the date.”