Garrett settled into his black leather chair and looked through the window of his office. It was located on the third and middle floor of the old grey brick building, with the perfect view over the quiet city. A light snow shower was adding to the already carpeted town, and he thought again the contrast of the clean white blanket to the dirt that lay beneath.
“Contemplating the nature of criminals again?” a voice called out, but he didn’t flinch or turn to look.
He knew the voice of his brother and had expected a visit that morning.
Doug was dressed in a crisp blue suit and wore an expression of joy at seeing his brother safe and sound. He was accompanied by a younger man in a plain grey suit, the black tie sloppily knotted and in need of straightening. They walked to Garrett’s desk and sat in the leather chairs on the other side.
“You must’ve come in before anyone,” Doug continued. “No one knows you’re here yet. I only know because we were walking by and saw you through the glass.”
Garrett sighed as he rotated his chair to face them.
“When was that installed?” he asked with a motion of his finger toward the glass wall.
“About … three months ago,” was the answer as Doug looked skyward to recall. “Mr. Pinkerton wanted a more open feel to the offices.
Relax. It’s a security feature. Watch.”
Garrett stared at Doug with a disapproving glare at a security change he hadn’t approved. He watched as the man five years his senior approached the glass and tapped on it. His eyes squinted as the glass immediately became a white frost. With another tap, it appeared clear again and the man explained.
“You think it’s back to transparent, but no one outside can see in,” Doug continued to demonstrate.
As if on cue, a woman walked by carrying a stack of papers. He knocked on the metal window frame to draw her attention, then began pulling off his jacket, followed by his tie, all the while pretending to dance seductively.
Garrett watched the woman look around as if she were confused by the knocking, then focus again on the files in her arms. She didn’t seem to see any of what was happening in his office. He huffed as both of his visitors laughed.
“The lights above the door will tell you if it’s secure,” the youngest of the three explained.
Garrett looked up and saw a small yellow light, which he correctly assumed meant he could see out but no one could see in.
“Red is for clear on both sides, green is for opaque,” he continued.
“There’s a remote, too,” Doug added as he gazed around the room in search of it. “Oh, here, on the coffee table.”
He grabbed it as he returned to Garrett’s desk and placed it on the corner as he sat down.
“I have work to do, Doug,” Garrett told him as Doug pulled his coat back on. “I have an important phone call to make, so if you’ll excuse me.”
“No hello for your brother?” wondered Doug with a somewhat hurt expression. “Not even a gift from your travels? I heard JiHo has a nice tobacco pipe collection now. You couldn’t take one off him for me?” *
Garrett relaxed his shoulders a bit at his brother’s teasing and smiled. “His wife would nail both our hides to a wall if he broke up that collection. She’s the one who buys him those things.”
Doug chuckled and nodded in agreement.
“Oh, this is Trevor Westin,” Doug introduced. “He was brought on a few weeks after you left for your assignment. Headhunters brought him in after Mr. Pinkerton learned of his help on another Four Flowers case.
Poor kid had to sit through the whole ‘You know, I’m the great-great grandson of Allan Pinkerton, the greatest P.I. that ever lived’ speech,” Doug laughed.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Fagan,” Trevor said as he leaned forward with his hand outstretched.
Garrett hesitated before shaking the younger man’s hand. He didn’t like new people, especially those he hadn’t personally vetted.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Doug met his annoyed expression. “No one’s touched any of your cases. No one but those you approved before you left has even seen them. Trevor’s a good kid. You know the boss wouldn’t place his trust in just anyone.”
“He’s made a lot of changes while I was away,” Garrett remarked with a shake of his head. “Why wouldn’t he wait for my return so I could oversee the proper procedures of vetting and testing? What was the rush?”
Doug leaned back in his chair and glanced over at the new employee before answering.
“After so many security companies have become compromised, he didn’t want to wait any longer,” Doug vaguely explained. “It’s worse that law and justice offices have become corrupted. First, the D.A. and task force in South Korea*, then the department in Pennsylvania **. That profiler was FBI, so there’s that level of infiltration, as well.”
“The profiler on the Devil’s Advocate case **,” Trevor quickly blurted in an effort to contribute to the conversation.
“He’s aware,” Doug informed him.
Trevor nodded in understanding, seemingly excited to be part of the notorious investigator’s conversation. “Did you hear what happened to him? And about the plane that went down?” **
“I did,” Garrett replied, his concern over the young man’s enthusiastic inquiries growing.
“Oh, right,” Trevor mumbled. “I thought since you’ve been overseas these last months, you may not have heard. Who do you think it was? The assassin, I mean. It had to be an assassin, right? Maybe a group of them. I was thinking…”
“We don’t speak of field assignments in an open office,” Garrett warned in a low tone. “Any open office.”
Trevor looked toward the closed door and back at Doug in question.
“He means in front of anyone who wasn’t part of the assignment or the investigation,” Doug clarified.
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir,” Trevor apologized.
Garrett gave him a hard look and shook his head intolerantly.
“I’ll discuss these changes with Pinkerton later,” Garrett told them. “Right now, I need to make a phone call. If you can both excuse me, it’s personal.”
Doug and Trevor both stood and nodded their goodbyes.
“I’ll meet you for lunch,” Doug called over his shoulder as they stepped into the hallway.
* JiHo is the main male character from Cultivating Lilies
** Pertaining to The Detective and The Socialite
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