Free Haunted Hearts by John Lawrence Reynolds

you getting at?”
    Flanigan stopped fingering his tie and removed his glasses. “Can you go down there and positively identify him?”
    â€œAre you asking me to?”
    â€œI’d like to know it’s him. I’d like to know where he lives, and I’d like to know where he’s employed. If anywhere. Charge your expenses to the docket number I gave you.”
    â€œI could use a picture of him.”
    â€œThere are no pictures of him. None that I have.”
    â€œIf he’s got a record, there’ll be one on file.”
    â€œYou might try that, with your connections. You have a description of him. When could you leave?”
    McGuire shrugged. “Tomorrow.” He stood up. “Do you want to tell me why you’re so interested in this guy?”
    â€œI don’t think it’s necessary.”
    â€œIs he considered dangerous?”
    â€œNot to you.” Flanigan looked at his watch. “Let me know if there’s a problem.”
    McGuire nodded and crossed the carpet to the office door, closing it behind him. In the anteroom outside Flanigan’s office, Lorna Robbins was stapling some legal documents together. Across from her, seated on the oversized leather sofa, a slender woman with streaked blond hair began to rise when the door opened, then sat back again when she saw it was McGuire, but McGuire was struck by the expression he saw in the instant before she turned away, as though the woman had been prepared to launch herself towards him before settling back on the sofa. A curious expression, as though she were about to be rescued. And a familiar appearance, around the eyes.
    McGuire raised his eyebrows at Lorna, who glanced at him before turning away. He walked to her desk and bent to speak just as the door behind him opened. McGuire turned to see Flanigan gesturing to the woman on the couch, and she rose and entered Flanigan’s office in several brisk, short steps. The lawyer avoided McGuire’s eyes and quickly closed the door behind them.
    Lorna Robbins leaned towards McGuire. “You know, staff members aren’t supposed to date each other. It’s against policy.”
    â€œIt’s not a date,” McGuire said. “It’s lunch.”
    Lorna smiled. “Darn, I’d rather it was a date. I can always get another job.”
    â€œMeet you downstairs in five minutes,” McGuire said, and Lorna bit her lip and nodded.
    Looks like I’m going to Annapolis, McGuire told himself as he descended the stairs. He wondered if the slender woman with the streaked blond hair and the strange manner had something to do with it all. He remembered her eyes, the look of hope and pleading he saw there.
    Lorna met him at the elevator, watching the other employees and saying very little to McGuire. As they left the building, he held the door for her and she glanced at him in mild surprise.
    The restaurant was narrow, crowded, and dark. Seated at a table far to the rear, Lorna relaxed. She ordered pasta and salad, then looked directly at McGuire for the first time since leaving the office building. McGuire told the waiter he would have the same.
    â€œAre you nervous about being seen with me?” he asked her. “Do they take the rule about not dating staff that seriously?”
    â€œNo.” She continued staring at him, one hand toying with her hair.
    â€œThen why so tense?”
    She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “A little frightened, I suppose.”
    â€œOf what?”
    She shrugged. “Are you seeing anybody?” she asked. “I mean, are you involved with anyone right now?”
    â€œNo,” McGuire said. “You?”
    She shook her head. “I had a bad experience with a man last year. We were supposed to get married, move to Cape Ann, and open a bed and breakfast. We told my friends, my kids, I almost handed in my notice at the firm, and then . . .”
    â€œHe got cold