Someone Is Watching (eBook)

9780553390636|excerptFielding / SOMEONE IS WATCHING

--One--

The day starts the same way it usually does. Just another monotonously gorgeous October day in Miami, the sky typically blue and cloudless, the temperature expected to reach eighty degrees by noon. There is nothing to suggest that today will vary significantly from yesterday or the day before that, nothing to suggest that today, or more specifically tonight, will change my life forever.

I wake up at seven. Shower and dress--a black pleated skirt and white cotton blouse, slightly more formal than my usual fare. Brush my hair, which is light brown and hangs in loose waves halfway down my back. Apply a hint of blush to my cheeks and a touch of mascara to my lashes. Make some coffee, scarf down a muffin, and call downstairs at eight thirty for one of the valets to bring up my car from the underground garage.

I could go get the vintage silver Porsche myself, but the valets get a kick out of driving it, even for the thirty seconds it takes to accelerate up the circular ramp from my parking spot on lower level three to the front entrance. This morning it's Finn, almost handsome in his uniform of khaki pants and short-sleeved, forest-green shirt, behind the wheel. 'Busy day, Miss Carpenter?' he asks as we exchange positions.

'Just another day in paradise.'

'Enjoy,' he says, closing my door and waving me away.

I head for Biscayne Boulevard and the law offices of Holden, Cunningham, and Kravitz, where I've been employed as an investigator for almost two years. The firm, home to approximately three hundred employees, a hundred and twenty-five of whom are lawyers, occupies the top three floors of an imposing marble tower in the business heart of the city. Normally I'd enjoy another cup of coffee while exchanging pleasantries with whomever happens to be milling around the staff room, but today I'm due in court, so I park my car in the underground lot, lock my licensed Glock in the glove compartment, and hail a cab for the short ride over to 73 West Flagler Street and the Miami-Dade County Courthouse. Street parking is minimal to nonexistent in this area, and I can't afford to waste precious time looking for a spot. I've been called as a rebuttal witness in a case involving corporate espionage, and I'm anxious to take the stand. Unlike many in my profession who prefer to remain invisible, I actually enjoy testifying.

Maybe that's because, as an investigator, I spend a great deal of my time in relative isolation. My job involves gathering information that will prove useful in courtroom defense, investigating cheating spouses and suspicious employees, engaging in surveillance, taking photographs, videotaping clandestine encounters, searching out and questioning prospective witnesses, locating missing heirs, and rounding up facts, some of which turn out to be pertinent and admissible in court, others merely prurient but useful anyway. When I have gathered up all the necessary info, I sit down and write up a report. Occasionally, like today, I'm called to testify. A cursory knowledge of the law is essential, making the several years I spent at the University of Miami majoring in criminology not a total waste of time, despite my leaving before completing my degree. According to the online site where I secured my investigator's license, it is part of my job description to be clever, well-informed, dogged, methodical, resourceful, and discreet. I try to be all of those things.

There's a long lineup of people already waiting to pass through the metal detectors when I arrive at the courthouse, followed by an excruciatingly slow ride in a crowded...