Smith Investigation Series Box Set 1 Read Online Free Page A

mahogany reception desk, currently unoccupied.
    I walked across the room to one of the two doors on either side of the desk. A placard said ‘Management’, and I suspected it was Smith’s.
    I knocked and pushed the door open and wasn't surprised to find Smith elbow deep into paperwork already.
    “Good morning,” I said, getting his attention.
    “Ah, morning, Rob. You came.”
    “You look surprised.”
    “I am. But I’m also glad.” He stood up and reached to shake my hand. “Welcome to my domain.”.
    “Impressive domain, Sir Smith,” I admitted.
    “You think?”
    “Yes. Prime real estate.”
    “It does cost a fortune every month, I have to say.”
    “But it looks good. Gotta have the best image in the business!”
    He laughed. “It’s not that impressive.”
    I looked at him, surprised at his modesty. I leaned towards believing it. He wasn't the corporate type and, if I remembered correctly, didn’t grasp the concept of entrepreneurial pride.
    “So, you’ve read the file. You want to work the case?” he began.
    “No. I’ve read the file so I can come here today and recite it back to you.” Anything coming even remotely close to the talk made me jumpy. “I’m sorry.”
    “No, it’s OK. The old dry sarcasm of Rob Walsh.”
    I laughed, looking down.
    “Come on. Let me give you the tour,” he suggested, starting for the door. “You know you’re being sarcastic whenever you feel vulnerable, right? That’s your tell.”
    “Whose tell?” I heard a woman in the other room.
    “Morning, Spike.”
    “Morning, boss,” the woman replied, peeking her head through the open door.
    “Hi,” I greeted her, my voice small, suddenly realizing that I was required to meet his team. “Here we go,” I thought to myself.
    She came into the room and extended a hand to me. “Hi, I’m Lisa. People call me Spike.”
    She didn’t look like a ‘Spike’ in the least. Short and thin, with surprisingly long hair tied in a ponytail that pulled tightly against her skull. The sunlight reflected thousands of shades of chocolate in it, and I felt underprepared. I had just taken a shower, brushed and tied my hair in a low ponytail and, in contrast with her perfectly pressed two-toned cotton suit, my jeans and white untucked shirt looked washed out.
    Her brown eyes smiled at me, and I grimaced back. She gave me a delicate handshake and looked to Smith to make the introductions.
    “This is Robin Walsh.”
    “What?” she gasped. “ The Robin Walsh?”
    I squinted, unsure of what she meant.
    “The famous PI? Rising star of Kyle & Reed, killer people skills, ex-Navy, author? That Robin Walsh?” she clarified. I wished she hadn’t.
    “Yes but, please, call me Rob.”
    “Oh. My. God. Wait until the guys find out!”
    I cringed, feeling like I should crawl into the closest cranny I could find.
    “I’m sorry, I’m being such a fan girl right now!”
    “A what?”
    “I’m a big fan, Miss Walsh. Rob. And it’s so nice to meet you!”
    I was stunned. My fan? I wanted to ask her if she hadn’t, perhaps, gotten me confused with someone else, but Smith assured me with a nod that Spike was speaking the truth.
    “OK, Spike. Settle down, now. Spike doesn’t get to see the outside world much, Ma’am, so she’s easily excited.”
    I turned to the man who had spoken and was welcomed by the most beautiful sight one would get to see in a lifetime. The man looked like the picture of perfection with his tall stature, dark eyes against fair skin, short, dark hair and wearing a casual suit that probably cost more than my military stipend for a year.
    “Hi, I’m Dylan,” he introduced himself, giving me a slight wave. “I’m the surveillance guy. Spike, here, she’s more the administration type. Financial investigations and the sort, and she makes the meanest coffee. Isn’t that right, Spike?”
    “Shut up!” she protested, pouting. He grabbed her arm and hugged her despite her best efforts to resist the