Boiling Point (Phoenix, Ltd. Book 2) by Alison Henderson

Author:Alison Henderson [Henderson, Alison]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2016-10-06T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Zoë had failed to protect her client from a possible attempt on her life, and now her boss was going to pull her off the Prescott case, maybe even fire her. Not that she didn’t deserve it. She’d accused Nick of being a lousy P.I., but she was an even worse bodyguard. She’d really thought she was ready to handle an assignment on her own.

Impulsive and unprepared, Hargrove.

Why did her inner voice always have to channel her old drill instructor? Why couldn’t it choose someone more positive and affirming?

“Zoë? Are you still there?” Madelyn’s voice penetrated her veil of self-pity.

“Yes. Yes, of course.” She might as well get it over with, take her lumps, and figure out a way to move on.

“Regardless of the nature of the previous incidents,” her boss continued in a brisk, professional tone, “the accident yesterday has elevated the threat level. It’s time for Mr. Prescott to take his wife into his confidence and share the real purpose of your presence in the house. You will find it much easier to protect her if she’s able to cooperate.”

Had she heard correctly? Madelyn intended to keep her on the assignment? She wasn’t being fired? “I absolutely agree.”

“Do you feel comfortable discussing the matter with your client, or would you like me to call him?”

Zoë grinned into the phone, barely able to keep from hooting out loud. Madelyn had called Lyman your client, as if she were a full-fledged field agent. She allowed herself a silent fist pump.

Then she remembered how much more was at stake than her professional standing. Yesterday’s crash could have seriously injured or even killed one of them. The thought sobered her instantly. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll talk to him. I have a very good relationship with Mr. Prescott.”

“Excellent. Also, you said Mr. Rosetti is working under a similar arrangement with Mrs. Prescott.”

“Yes. I’ll ask him to have the same conversation with her.” If he’s still speaking to me.

“Very good. Is there anything else you need right now?”

“Not that I can think of. I’ll call you in a day or two with an update.”

“See that you do.”

“And Boss…thanks.”

“I’m just doing my job, as I expect you to do yours. And Zoë…don’t call me Boss.”

Zoë ended the call with a smile.

She would talk to Lyman in the morning. Today, his full attention was where it belonged—on his wife. But first she needed to find Nick and get him on board with the plan. Since he’d probably retreated to his room, she might need a peace offering to persuade him to open the door.

Ten minutes later she stood at the top of the stairs to Nick’s garage apartment with a plate of two-day-old chocolate chip cookies in one hand and a travel mug of coffee in the other. She balanced the cookies on top of the mug and knocked. And waited. And knocked again. Where the heck was he? She wasn’t interested in roaming the estate with coffee and cookies, calling his name.

She’d turned and started down the steps in disgust when the latch clicked and a hinge creaked behind her.

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