Free Climbing High by Madelon Smid

arrange a dinner party for some time this week. Do remember to eat something.” Sharon enfolded her in loving arms. For a few seconds Siree allowed herself to lean on her mother and absorb some of her strength.
    Fifteen hours later any energy she’d soaked up from her mom, and all of her own, had diminished to the weakness of a twenty-watt bulb. She finally had a scent, and, nose to the ground, followed the trail for hours, her bloodhound instincts quivering with anticipation. When she hit a dead end, the adrenaline of the chase drained away, leaving her exhausted. She would have to backtrack and try a different approach.
    At ten o’clock Janice stuck her head in the door. At five feet ten inches the black American had the grace of a model and the ability to kill a man a dozen different ways. She had the computer skills to make her cover as a software writer legit. Over all too brief coffee breaks, Siree had learned Janice had been on an all-female marine team in Afghanistan, and left the military after her second tour of duty to work in private security. Gribbs called her in on special contracts. Siree had total confidence in Janice to protect her if the need arose. They’d come to admire each other’s skills, and only Janice’s insistence on professional protocols kept them from becoming closer. “Ben’s arrived to relieve me. He’s stationed outside in the hall. I’m standing down till 08:00 tomorrow.”
    Siree wriggled her fingers. She stretched her arms above her head, feeling the ache of the knot in her right shoulder. She rotated her arm, smiling at Janice. “I’m aiming for seven”—she dropped her arms—“so I’ll see you here rather than at the house. Goodnight.”
    She barely registered the soft tapping of Janice’s shoes traversing the long hallway or Ben’s muffled voice calling goodnight before the numbers captured her attention. Her fingers flew over the keyboard.
    Two hours later, she closed down her laptop with a sense of accomplishment. Finally she had something to report. A piece of the whole had shown itself. With a soft moan, she rotated her right shoulder and kneaded the muscles from shoulder to neck, trying to ease the knots, but couldn’t reach the source deep under her shoulder blade.
    “Here, let me.”
    She yelped, grabbed her mouse and threw it with all her might in the direction of the voice.
    Jake fielded the mouse before it hit his chest and set it back on the desk. “The last time I offered to rub a woman’s neck I got a much better response.”
    “You scared the heck out of me.” She glared at him. “Don’t you know not to sneak up on a woman working alone in an empty high-rise at…” She lifted her hand to check the time on her watch, but black spots danced before her eyes, and she seemed to lose the ability to stand upright for a second.
    “Just short of midnight,” he offered, stepping in to catch her swaying body and seal it to his own.
    She registered his strength and warmth and for a second of weakness sank against him. “I stood up too fast,” she said. “Head rush. I’ll be fine in a second.”
    “Just possibly you’ll be fine after some food and eight hours of sleep.” His caring tone stroked her nerve endings, setting even more of her aquiver.
    “I decided to go home just before your Houdini act.” She pulled herself free, stepped back and tried to get her body under control. It whimpered silently, wanting to go back into his arms. “What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you’d gone to New York for a few days.”
    Jake had limited his travel while Siree went after corporate criminals on his behest, but remaining in the Vancouver offices for any length of time would arouse suspicion amongst the staff and raise questions in the press.
    “Got back this afternoon and came in to clear my desk. Security told me you were still in the building and I came to read you the riot act.” His eyes lasered her. “More to the point, what are you doing