Ryans pocket buzzed again. Time to stop procrastinating and get this over with. Full of attitude, he marched upstairs ready to meet and nix Emma Stirling.
* * *
The rest of the team was already congregated in the second floors main conference room, pouring coffee and settling down around the sweeping oval conference table.
Marc took a gulp of black coffee and eyed Ryan. Nice of you to join us. A corner of his mouth lifted. You look thrilled to be here.
Ryan scowled. You know how I feel about this. I was about to do something usefullike order a cool state-of-the-art app while I was preparing the case wrap-up. Instead, Im here, ready to meet another substandard candidate.
Great attitude. Claire walked over just in time to hear Ryans statement. Did it ever occur to you that we might find a white elephant? There are still a few of those out there, you know.
Is that a prediction, Clairevoyant? He loved to get at her with that nickname hed coined.
No. She shot him a dont-get-me-started look. Its an optimistic fact.
Patrick was already seated, scratching Heros ears. He glanced over at them. Play nice, kids. We have a reputation for professionalism to uphold.
Yes, we do. Casey seated herself at the head of the table. And, like it or not, were going to eventually have to hire someone. My standards are as high as yours, Ryan. Maybe higher. But Im not giving up. This place is not going to continue as chaos central.
I hear you. Ryan got himself some coffee and turned to peruse the group. So should we do rock, paper, scissors to decide whos going downstairs to let this one in?
I can handle that electronically, Ryan. An invisible computerized voice echoed from everywhere in the room, and a wall of floor-to-ceiling video screens began to glow. A long green line formed across each panel, pulsing from left to right, bending into the contours of the voice panel.
Good idea, Yoda, Ryan replied. Disarm the Hirsch pad when the doorbell rings and advise our job candidate to come upstairs. That alone should scare the shit out of her.
Casey couldnt help but smile at Ryans assessment. As for Yoda, Ryans extraordinary artificial intelligence system, hed become an honorary FI team member. Sometimes, it was hard to remember that he wasnt human. Then again, hed been built by Ryan, who was very human. Bottom line? Ryan was a genius and Yoda was omniscient.
Has everyone reviewed this candidates application? Casey asked.
Yup. Marc was his usual straightforward self. She sounds like a juvenile delinquent who never did hard time.
She sounds like a kid who needs a chance, Claire chimed in. She was bounced from foster home to foster home and spent a lot of time on the streets.
I have to agree, Patrick said. I know shes got a juvie record, and that would normally turn me right off. But in this caseher parents died in a plane crash when she was eight. There were no relatives to take her in. So she spent ten years in the system. Thats tough.
And were not exactly squeaky clean ourselves, Marc commented drily. He glanced at Patrick. Other than you, Special Agent Lynch.
Not so much anymore, Patrick retorted. Youve corrupted me.
The whole group chuckled.
Yeah, were the maverick investigators, Ryan said, coining a phrase from an article written about them. So, if this girl has a brain, Im willing to cut her some slack.
Some slack? Casey repeated, shooting Ryan a look. Im hoping youll do more than that.
I wouldnt count on it. I still think a virtual assistant would be the best choice. Ryan held up both palms to ward off oncoming arguments. But Ive accepted that Ive been overruled. So lets get this show on the road.
Right on cue, the doorbell sounded.
Applicant number twenty-seven has arrived, Yoda announced.
Punctual. Casey glanced at her watch. Okay, Yoda, go ahead and let her in. She interlaced her fingers on the table in front of her. Oh, and, Yoda? Leave out the applicant number when you announce her. Just stick to her name. Applicant twenty-six nearly took off when you made that reference. Lets not scare off applicant twenty-seven. Its starting to sound like were scraping the bottom of the barrel and each one of them is it. Either that, or were looking for perfection and cant find it.
That would be accurate, Yoda pointed out.
True, but we dont want to intimidate the girl before she even gets upstairs.
Very well, Casey. Name only.
Yodas words were punctuated by the beeping sound of the alarm system as he disarmed it.
* * *
A loud thunk resounded in the FI hallway as the large steel bolt retracted, unlocking the front door.
Please enter the building and proceed to the second floor, Yoda instructed the young woman at the door. Make a right turn into the main conference room. Your interview will be conducted there.
Thanks. Without so much as a flinch, Emma Stirling walked through the foyer as the door bolt reengaged behind her. She climbed up the winding staircase, and paused on the landing to run her fingers through her hair and adjust her tote bag on her shoulder. Then she entered the conference room.
She fought back a smile as she saw the all-too-familiar startled reaction from the team at large. It was the same as everyone whod read her history. They were expecting a scraggly looking brat from the streets. Instead, they were getting the equivalent of a prep school cheerleaderall blonde, blue-eyed and composed, with a fashionable short skirt and a formfitting top.
Shed worked hard to perfect that image.
I clean up nice, she said, putting aside the looks of surprise and assessing the challenge she was about to face.
Emma had done her homework.
The pretty, authoritative redhead at the head of the table was Casey Woods, the president of Forensic Instincts and a brilliant analyst of human behavior. On either side of her were two hot guysone dark and brooding, the other sexy and charismaticMarc Devereaux and Ryan McKay, respectively. Marc was Caseys right hand, a former navy SEAL and former FBI agent in the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia. Quite simply, there was nothing Marc couldnt do or couldnt make happen. Ryan was nothing short of a techno-wizard and a strategy genius.
The willowy blonde who looked like a fairy princess was Claire Hedgleigh. Emma didnt quite get what it meant, but Claire was a claircognizant and had an amazing psychic gift that took her into scary but productive places to help solve cases. The older conservative-looking guy was Patrick Lynch, a retired FBI agent with over three decades of law enforcement experience, and who grounded the team when they pushed the boundaries a little too far. Oh, yeah, and the cool bloodhound sitting up tall, ears erect, was Heroan FBI-trained human-scent evidence dog whose olfactory sense was second to none.
Pretty thorough, Emma thought with an internal grin.
Job candidate Emma Stirling, Yoda supplied. Twenty-two years old. Currently unemployed and available immediately. Have a seat at the table, Ms. Stirling.
Yes, sir, Emma replied, looking around to see where the voice was coming from. It was the same voice that had greeted her in the doorway.
Yes, sir, Emma replied, looking around to see where the voice was coming from. It was the same voice that had greeted her in the doorway.
She placed her tote bag in the empty chair next to Patrick, but remained standing.
With self-taught courtesy, she proceeded to walk around the conference room table, shaking hands with each team member. First, she squatted down to stroke Heros ears. Hes great. Whats his name? she asked.
Hero, Patrick responded. He helped her to her feet and shook her hand. Im Patrick Lynch. Nice to meet you.
Same here. She moved on to Marc and Ryan, who were sizing her up as they greeted her. She made sure to touch each mans arm with her left hand. Men appreciated that in business introductions.
As she approached Claire and Casey, she tripped and toppled forward, struggling to right herself as they caught her.
Im sorry, she said, her face turning bright red. I get clumsy when Im nervous. And Ill never get used to high heels.
We hear you, Casey said with a chuckle. There wasnt a woman alive who didnt understand the battle between fashion and comfort.
We certainly do, Claire echoed, intent on putting the poor girl at ease. Men dont have to juggle looking great and professional without limping home. Its one of the hardships of being a modern woman.
Thank you for understanding. The color was fading from Emmas cheeks as she regained some of her composure. Sheepishly, she made her way back to her seat and gratefully sank into it.
Once she was settled, Yoda continued. Application and résumé displayed on the main screen.
As he spoke, the large middle screen lit up, and Emmas paperwork appeared, the pages arranged side by side.
Thats just the good stuff, she told them, having glanced up at the information displayed. Im sure you know the rest.
We do. Casey leaned forward and studied the young woman. Weve all read every word. The bottom lineyou were a juvie. According to our research, you were guilty of a lot more than you were convicted of. You were incredibly good at getting off.
Emma startled. What?
Not the reaction you were expecting? Casey asked. Sorry. Were nothing if not thorough. Were also not easily shocked. Or were you hoping we would be and that wed bounce you out of here so you could feel vindicated and like youd put one over on us?
I... Emma was visibly taken aback.
I like the wide-eyed innocent thing, Ryan commented. Youve got a great combo going therea disarming exterior and an iron core.
Youre smart, too, Marc added. You did research on each one of us. He read the surprised widening of her eyes that she fought to conceal. The way you studied each of us as you walked aroundwhich you made sure to do, he explained, answering her unspoken question. Like you were making mental connections. That was your tell.
Wow, you people are just like the articles say. For the first time, Emma looked impressed. So lets say I came here to mess with your minds, and you figured me out. You also guessed I was a lot guiltier than my record shows. Then why are you interviewing me?
Why wouldnt we be? Casey asked.
You just said so yourself. Im a criminal.
A former criminal, Patrick qualified.
And a good one, Ryan said, ignoring Patricks scowl. Here at Forensic Instincts, we not only admire excellence, we demand it. Also, youve got guts. Guts are a requirement for working here.
True, Casey said.
Plus your background piqued our interest, Claire couldnt help but interject. She pointed at herself. And before you size me up further, yes, I am the soft touch of the team. I felt a pang of compassion when I read your history. Thats the upside. The downside is that none of my team members is as squishy as I am. So youll have some convincing to do.
Emma acknowledged that with a nod. I figured as much.
Casey raised her chin. Do you want this job?
Yes.
Why?
Because it sounds way cooler than the other jobs I was applying for.
But you didnt think youd get it.
Truthfully? No.
Honesty. Another refreshing virtue. Casey glanced around the table, making eye contact with each team member and reading their reactions.
Emma used that time to look around again, puzzled as her gaze searched the room. I dont know where its based, but I like your virtual intelligence system. How come you didnt make that your assistant?
Smart girl, Ryan muttered.
Because Yoda is overworked, Marc answered for the group.
Yoda? Emma grinned. Great name.
Really smart girl, Ryan muttered again.
Only half listening to Ryans wisecracks, Casey was eyeing Emma as their job applicant kept asking questions. What was going on in that cunning little blond head?
The girl was sharp. She was a walking contradiction. And she had a curious mind. She had the brains and the balls to fit right in.
But was she trustworthy? Loyal? Those were key requirements in Caseys hiring practice.
Only one way to find out.
At that moment, Emma pushed back her chair and rose. I want this job. What do I have to do to get it?
Prove yourself, Casey responded.
How?
A probationary period. Say, three months. Minimum wage. Show me unwavering loyalty to Forensic Instinctsthe company and the team. Hard work. Good work. No bullshit. No games. Up front all the way. Then well talk.
Fair enough. Emma paused, chewing her lip. In that case, I guess I should start out on the right foot, boss. She reached into her tote bag and groped around for a minute. Here you go. She pulled out Patricks wallet, Claires bangle bracelet, Marcs switchblade, Caseys day planner and Ryans iPhone, placing each item in front of its respective owner. No bullshit. No games. Up front all the way.
You could have heard a pin drop as the team members each stared at their just-confiscated belongings.
And who knows? Emma added with an impish grin. I might even teach you guys a thing or two.
3
EMMA WAS STILL getting used to the coolness of having her own desk and swivel chair in an alcove right off the front hall of the renowned Forensic Instincts.
Maybe if she played her cards right, shed get business cards, too.
The doorbell rang, and she snapped to attention, grabbing her new scheduling book.
Our nine-thirty prospective client has arrived, Yoda announced. Ms. Madeline Westfield. Shes listed in your appointment book on the left page, third column.
Yes, Yoda, I see that. Emma grimaced. Cut me some slack. Im trying to learn. At least give me thirty seconds before you jump in.
A brief pause. That seems fair and acceptable. Ill program my database accordingly.
You do that. Emma rose and walked to the door, punching in the dummy alarm code Ryan had assigned her. Only the inner circle got the real code. Not the newbies on probation.