Free Paloma: A Laurent & Dove Mystery by Linda A. Lavid Page B

another. He shook his head. Romantic relationships were never his strong suit. Whenever he had to deal with them, his sense of certainty wavered. Was that happening now? How absurd. Cindy and he had ended their relationship years ago.
    He approached a frosted glass door with lettering, Cynthia Kovacs, Director , and entered. A young brunette sat behind a computer screen. She looked up. “Can I help you?”
    “I’m here to see Mrs. Kovacs.”
    “Your name?”
    “Max Laurent.”
    “Do you have an appointment?”
    “No. I’m a friend. Is she available?”
    “I’m afraid she’s with someone. Would you like to have a seat?”
    “Yes. Thank you.”
    Not much had changed since his last visit. Perhaps the carpet had been replaced, but the pictures of the waterfront were the same. 
     Max had made Cindy’s acquaintance when the library was the hub for newspaper stories, phone directories, and information on all kinds of topics. How many cases had Cindy helped him with? Too many. And naturally events evolved from the professional to the personal. For five years he and Cindy were involved, even considered marriage, but Max, in the final analysis, couldn’t take the plunge. He’d been in love with Agnes. He tried not to be, but in the end, he was. Thankfully, after their break-up, Cindy met someone else and married. One less thing to feel guilty about. She had been kind enough to come to his retirement party, where they had exchanged pleasant words. But there were occasions, a casual meeting downstairs, a happy hour in one of the downtown bars, that her attitude had a cutting edge. Max wasn’t sure how to take her. Maybe it was his imagination or maybe she finally realized what a heel he was. He couldn’t blame her. But hadn’t she said, always and forever, if you ever need my help, I’m there? Well, he did need her help.
    The door to her office was opened by a suited man.
    Cindy’s voice filtered out. “I’ll be in touch in a couple of weeks. The board has to approve any changes. You have my number.”
    The man nodded. “Thanks Mrs. Kovacs.”
    The secretary sprang from the chair and poked her head inside. “Mrs. Kovacs, Mr. Laurent is here to see you.”
    “Who?”
    The young woman turned to Max. 
    Max stood, then walked to the door. “The guy who owes you his badge.”
    Cindy, in her early fifties, looked much younger. Tan and athletic, her short-cropped hair, boyishly cut, framed her bright blue eyes. “Well, for a moment I thought I was hearing things, but now I think I must be seeing things. Sit. Take a load off. Leah, hold my calls while I talk to a very old and dear friend, or is that a dear and very old friend?”
    Max relaxed into a chair. “Pot calling the kettle?”
    She laughed. “Touché.”
    Max swept a glance around the room. Some things had changed. Her desk was different – teakwood with a curved kidney-shaped top. And the wall behind her was now filled with accolades – Woman of the Year , Honoree of the Year, Leadership in Government Award . “Nice office for a civil servant.”
    “Always a qualifier with you, Max.”
    Max felt that tinge again, an uneasiness. “No, really Cindy, this place is first rate. You deserve it.”
    “We always get what we deserve, don’t you think?”
    Max smiled  “Yes, we do. I’m sorry we didn’t have much time to talk at the party.”
    “The place was packed. You must’ve been very happy with such a wonderful send-off.”
    “Too bad I can’t remember it.”
    She laughed. “I’m not sure you’re supposed to remember retirement parties.”
    “Hey, what can you do? My last day for seeing a lot of those guys. Had a good run.”
    “I’d say. So, how are you spending your time? Roaming endlessly, visiting old haunts?”
    “Been playing golf.”
    “I thought you hated golf.”
    “Still do, but I never seem to realize it until I’m around the tenth hole.”
    “Why is that?”
    “The writing’s on the wall and it’s indelible. Once