The South Beach Search. Sharon Hartley

stared right back at him, not liking his dictatorial tone. She took orders from no one.... Well, except maybe Guru Navi, but he never gave orders. Only suggestions. This guy acted as if he were a five-star general.

      “Why not?” she asked. “We’re right here.”

      He shook his head as he took another bite of stew. “That’s a job for trained federal agents.”

      “Going to a pawnshop requires training?”

      “In this case, yes.”

      She sat back and folded her arms. “You love giving orders, don’t you? And you’re used to everyone doing exactly what you tell them.”

      He dropped a piece of bread on his plate, his dark eyes focused on her. “Have you been following the Romero case in the Herald?”

      “No.” Best not to tell him she ignored newspapers. They were full of nothing but negativity, bad news, sad news, making it impossible to live in the present moment.

      “Carlos Romero is in jail awaiting trial on a long list of charges, including first-degree murder for blowing up a post office in Fort Lauderdale and killing four people,” Reese explained.

      “I remember that,” Taki said with a shudder. Even she hadn’t been able to avoid the horrifying story of the victims of that violent blast. It’d made national news. Why did people always have to hurt each other?

      “Murder comes easily to some people,” he said. “They stole my briefcase hoping to discover the location of an important witness. Fortunately, they found nothing.”

      “Well, I’m glad of that. But why would murderers take my bowl?”

      “I was hoping you might know.”

      “I don’t,” she said.

      “Then maybe a diversion, to throw us off track, or just an opportunity to make a quick buck. But I’ll send an agent to check out your pawnshop. I promise.”

      “When?”

      “May I finish the lunch you ordered for me?”

      “Of course,” she said and took a sip of her tea.

      Good thing peppermint is excellent for indigestion, she thought, because Reese looked as if he was in for a serious case of heartburn.

      * * *

      BACK AT THE federal building, Taki smiled at Reese’s secretary as they walked past her cubicle. She had a pencil stuck behind one ear and a pen behind the other. The poor thing looked totally frazzled.

      “Sorry I’m late, Joanne,” he said and grabbed a stack of messages from her desk.

      “Romero’s attorney is trying to reach you,” the secretary said. “And Agent Rivas has phoned twice. I canceled the three o’clock conference when you weren’t back. It’s rescheduled for tomorrow at four.”

      “Thank you,” Reese mumbled as he entered his office.

      “Wow.” Taki moved to the front of his massive desk as he stepped behind it, reading his messages. “I made you miss a meeting.”

      “It wasn’t important,” he said, still shuffling through the pink papers in his hand.

      As she sat in a well-padded chair, Taki watched Reese morph back into Mr. United States Attorney. He’d relaxed slightly at lunch, but on entering his office he reverted to all-business. Just like her father. Never enough time to get everything done.

      He’d insisted she accompany him upstairs so she could hear him dispatch an FBI agent to the pawnshop, although she figured it was really because he wanted to keep her away from the place. But since that meant he was worried about someone besides himself, maybe there was still hope for Reese Beauchamps. She hoped so. Despite his arrogance and love of barking orders, she liked him, although she couldn’t figure out why.

      She hated to think it was because he was so good-looking. What did that say about her? But he did have the most gorgeous dark brown eyes. If she let herself, she could stare into them all day. And she liked the way his thick brown hair sported just a little wave. If he let it grow long, it would be magnificent.

      “Call your agent Rivas,” she said, disgusted with herself. “Then I’ll let you get back to work.”

      “Right.” Reese dropped the messages on the desk, pulled a swivel chair toward him and picked up the phone.

      To give him space while he spoke to the agent, she wandered around his large office with the fabulous view, examining various diplomas and certificates adorning the walls. Could pieces of paper tell her anything about the man?

      She admired elegantly framed degrees from undergraduate school at Princeton and law school at the University of Florida. Her father had once wanted her to attend Princeton.

      Without reading, she focused on the Old English script in a dignified plaque as a sickening realization shot through her.

      That was the third or maybe fourth time in one afternoon that Reese had caused her to think of her father. Before today, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d allowed the soulless monster to creep into her thoughts. Being reminded of the past never did anything but cause her pain.

      The two men didn’t resemble each other at all physically, but both attacked life as if it were an opponent to be wrestled into submission.

      She resisted the urge to run out of Reese’s office.

      She needed to stay far away from this man. It didn’t matter how good-looking he was. He behaved too much like her father and would destroy the serenity she’d fought so hard to create.

CHAPTER THREE

      “GET BACK TO me on that right away, Javi. Yeah, thanks.” Reese deliberately made his voice loud so Taki could hear him. She’d been staring at his Juris Doctor degree for five minutes as if it held the key to the secrets of her quixotic universe.

      When he replaced the receiver, she turned. Reese smiled at her, liking it much better when they were friends.

      “He’s ten minutes from the shop and will call me right back. Do you want to wait to see what he finds out?”

      “No,” she said. “I no longer think anything will come of that.”

      “What?” Reese pushed back in his chair, causing it to squeak in protest. “But you insisted on checking out the lead immediately.”

      “I know. The thing is...” She paused and looked out the window. “Well, after we left the restaurant our path took us by Jacques’s Hock, and I got a strong feeling that my bowl wasn’t there.”

      “You drove by the pawnshop? Why didn’t you tell me?”

      She met his gaze again. “You’d have just fussed about it,” she said with a graceful shrug.

      “And you got a...a feeling that your bowl wasn’t there?”

      She straightened her shoulders. “Yes.”

      “What kind of a feeling? Explain.”

      “How can you explain a feeling? I just sensed my bowl was not inside that building.”

      Reese rose, thinking Taki the most illogical person he had ever encountered. How could she change her mind so quickly? “My investigator is already on his way.”

      “Sorry. I was wrong,” she said, blue eyes troubled. Then she brightened. “But at least I admit it.”

      “Yeah, at least there’s that.” Reese fought an impulse to warn her about relying on irrational feelings. “Taki, in my experience, facts work a lot better when searching for the truth.”

      “Oh, I’m sure you think so,” she said, moving toward the door. “But