Florida Knight Read Free

skilled paralegal. And she was skilled. She took pride in her work. So why this tide of dread that suddenly weighed her down, this feeling that something momentous—and possibly dire—was about to happen?
    Nerves. There were those who said Kate Knight didn’t know the meaning of the word, but it just wasn’t so. If they’d known the wimp she once was . . .
    Had she had it too easy since she walked away from her previous life? Must contentment inevitably be punished? Was she was about to lose it all?
    She was an idiot. A foolish, fanciful creature unworthy of twenty-first century females. Kate scowled at her computer screen, forced her fingers to the keyboard. On the Petition of FREDERICK G. BAILEY, for Subsequent Administration of the above estate . . .
    Twenty minutes later, Kate walked through her boss’s door. Clinically, she noted her raised heart beat as she took a seat in one of the comfortably upholstered chairs in front of Barbara’s desk. She crossed her legs at the knee, noticing a slight shine on her navy crepe slacks. Not to worry, she thought grimly. Suitable office attire was something she wouldn’t have to worry about if she no longer had a job.
    “Uh, Kate . . .” Barbara Falk faltered. Idly, she played with a glass paperweight filled with swirls of blue and silver.
    Kate’s depression deepened. Her boss was never at a loss for words. Dear God, it must be really bad.
    “Kate, I’ve had a most unusual request.” Barbara Falk paused, obviously uncomfortable, before plunging ahead. “You probably know Bill has a lot of friends in law enforcement. Well, one of them asked him to find someone who could–ah–help one of their investigators. Bill thought of you.”
    Bill was William A. Falk, Barbara’s husband and, at one time, a prosecuting attorney in the DA’s office. Through the ensuing years of a private practice which had become the largest, most prestigious law firm in Golden Beach, he had kept his police contacts—city, county and state. His wife’s determined independence was their sole bone of contention, which Bill Falk handled by a public display of amused tolerance.
    Kate could not, however, imagine any way in which her world could intersect with an investigator. Then again, helping a detective—whatever he wanted—was better than losing her job.
    “I–um–knew you probably wouldn’t be thrilled with the idea.” Barbara was still focusing on the paperweight, unable to meet Kate’s eyes. “But the matter seemed important, so I–ah–I invited the investigator here to meet you.” Attorney Falk glanced at her watch. Something close to relief showed on her pleasant, rounded features. “Oh, my, he’s due here any minute.” Kate’s boss straightened a stack of papers, reached in a desk drawer for her purse. “I’ll just introduce the two of you, then dash off so you can have a bit of privacy. Don’t bite his head off, Kate,” Barbara added more briskly. “Listen to the man. Please!”
    “ Barbara! ”
    The outer door swung open. Footsteps approached the inner office. At the look on her employer’s face, Kate swallowed what she was going to say, but stubbornly refused to turn and look. She had been set up, and she didn’t like it.
    “Oh, my!” Barbara breathed.
    Okay, so it was rude not to look. She wanted to keep her job, didn’t she? Kate turned her head.
    Oh my and Wow ! When she’d suspected something momentous was about to happen, this was definitely not on her list of possibilities. Somehow Kate was on her feet, even as all the ridges of her brain, and places south, seemed to be curling at the edges, threatening to go up in smoke.
    “Lieutenant Turco, Kate Knight.” Barbara’s voice was a distant buzz, the name sailing straight over Kate’s head. Her lips curved into a semblance of a smile as her hand was swallowed in a grip as strong as it was brief.
    Attorney Falk, having satisfied the minimum dictates of courtesy, made good her escape.
    Kate never