To Catch a Bad Guy (16 page)

“Oh, goody.” Katie
rubbed her palms excitedly. “This is going to be fun.”

A moment later, Dean
was smiling at her with that charming smile of his, his blue eyes shining with
a mischievous spark. “Janet – fancy meeting you here!”

Janet noticed how
different he looked outside of the office. He had taken his glasses off and
loosened his tie – insignificant alterations, but somehow his whole demeanor
channeled a sexy and mysterious vibe.

“Dean, what a
surprise!” Janet’s voice sounded much more eager than she had planned. “Do you
come here often?”

“Not really. Just
stopped by for a drink after work, and now that I’ve run into you, I’m glad
that I did.” Dean smiled.

Before Janet could
think of an equally flirty remark, Katie cut in, “Your date gave you the slip,
huh?”

“You could say that.”
Dean grinned, not flustered in the least. “I think she prefers older men,” he
added.

“I love a man who can
be a good sport about being rejected,” Katie approved.

Wishing Katie would be
quiet, Janet made a belated introduction, “Dean, this is my friend, Katie
Addison.”

“It’s a pleasure to
meet you, Katie.” Dean smiled. “May I join you ladies for a drink? I’m in need
of recompense after tonight’s fiasco,” he added. The tone of his voice,
however, was anything but embarrassed; on the contrary, it was playful.

He is used to randomly
picking up girls at bars and replacing them just as frequently, Janet thought,
concluding that it would be best for everyone involved if Dean would just
leave, but before she could voice her opinion, Katie interjected.

“By all means.” Katie
motioned to an empty chair. “You don’t mind, Janet, do you?”

“No, of course not,”
Janet conceded, darting an askance glance at Katie. No doubt Katie thought she
was doing Janet a favor, but she would not be the one having to face Dean at
work day after day. From now on, when it came to coworkers, Janet wanted to
keep things purely professional.

Dennis settled into a
chair next to Janet. “Drinks are on me. What will it be?”

“Whiskey sour for me
and a dirty martini for Janet.” Katie beat Janet to the punch, nixing her plan
to avoid alcohol. Dean’s proximity was inebriating enough. What with his
charming smile and baby-blue eyes, Janet’s head was already swimming.

“Excellent choice.”
Dean signaled for the waitress and placed the order, adding a vodka martini
with onions for himself.

“So, Dean, it sounds
like you’re a man of the world, and I was wondering if you could help Janet and
me settle a little dilemma we’ve been struggling with.”

Dean leaned in closer,
propping his elbows on the table. “I don’t know about the man of the world bit,
but I’ll give it my best.”

“What’s your opinion
about dating coworkers?” Katie asked innocently.

Suppressing the urge to
strangle her friend, Janet kicked Katie’s foot underneath the table.

“Excellent question.”
Dean nodded. “An issue that has been raised numerous times by various media
sources, including such paragons as Marie Claire and Cosmopolitan.”

Katie raised an
eyebrow. “You read Cosmopolitan?”

“I read all kinds of
magazines,” Dean deadpanned back.

Mercifully, the
waitress arrived with their drinks, and Janet prayed that the subject of the
conversation would be forgotten, but her hopes were fruitless.

“As I was saying,” Dean
continued, taking a drink of his martini, “numerous opinions have been voiced
on the subject, but none of them were conclusive. My personal view is that one
never knows when Destiny might knock on one’s door, so I say, if you hear your
Destiny knocking, open the door,” Dean concluded with a sidelong glance at
Janet.

Really? Janet thought,
could this guy get any smugger? First he invites himself over to our table and
now he’s making suggestive innuendos. But, then, she could not very well blame
him for the latter since Katie had pretty much invited Dean’s remark with her
impertinent question.

“Well said.” Katie
nodded. “Don’t you agree, Janet?”

This had done it. “I
think that it’s important to look who’s at the door first, or risk opening
one’s door to a burglar.”

“Ah, but the search for
love implies danger. Without risk, reward cannot be gained.” Dean grinned.

“And on that note I’m
going to leave you two.” Katie rose from her chair completely ignoring Janet’s
outraged look. “I’ve got to prepare for a deposition tomorrow.”

Deposition? Janet
nearly spurted her drink through her nostrils. Katie would not know how to
depose a witness to save her life. Her legal work had always been behind the
scenes, but she clearly was intent on playing Cupid tonight, and there was no
stopping her.

“You’re a lawyer?” Dean
asked.

“Guilty.” Katie smiled.

“I didn’t know you
transferred into litigation, Katie.” Janet gave her friend a pointed look.

Katie waved her hand.
“It’s just happened – I’m helping out a new partner. Well, gotta run. Dean, it
was a pleasure meeting you.”

“Very nice to meet you,
Katie.”

Janet nodded silently
as she watched Katie take her leave. From her behavior, one would think that
Katie was an expert on dating, but as far as Janet knew, her friend’s love life
situation was about as dire as her own. Speaking of which, now that she had
been involuntarily set up with Dean Snider, she had to think of something to
say. She could not very well just sit there like a fish.

“So, how do you like
working at Bostoff so far?” Dean asked.

“It seems that every
time you see me, you ask me this question,” Janet pointed out, immediately
regretting her snippiness. The guy was just trying to make conversation. “It’s
all right,” she added hurriedly. “I’m still feeling my way around things, but
it’s coming along.” She smiled, thinking that she was putting up a very good
front.

Dean’s eyes lingered on
Janet’s as though evaluating the sincerity of her answer. “Good.” He nodded.
“I’m glad.”

“How do you like it?”
Janet asked.

“Oh, you know, aside
from hating my boss and my work, everything is peachy. I’m just kidding,” Dean
added. “It’s a job – it pays bills.”

“Yep. That’s the
important part.” Janet finished the last of her martini. She decided to abstain
from eating the olives in front of Dean.

“Aren’t you going to
eat the olives? That’s the best part.”

“That’s my favorite
part too,” Janet confided, picking up the toothpick with the olives skewered on
it. “Would you like one?”

“Sure.” Dean nodded.
Then he did something Janet did not expect him to. He took her hand into his
and directed it to his mouth, leaning in to scoop an olive off the toothpick.

Janet blinked. This was
certainly forward of him.

“Aren’t you going to
eat your olive?” Dean asked, as though nothing was the matter.

Why the heck not? Janet
thought. She did like the guy, and for all she knew, she might not be employed
by Bostoff that much longer anyway, which made the issue of Dean being her
coworker irrelevant.

“May I walk you home?”
Dean asked.

They were standing
outside the bar. It was a beautiful, romantic night.

“Sure.” Janet was
flattered by Dean’s old-fashioned remark. This guy was full of surprises. “I’m
on Ninetieth and Second Avenue.”

“I’ll get us a cab.”
Dean moved to the curb.

Us, Janet felt an
involuntary jolt of pleasure at Dean’s choice of words.

After several off-duty cabs
had passed them by, Janet offered, “Let’s take the bus instead.”

They walked to Madison
Avenue for the uptown bus. Just as they got to the bus stop, they spotted a bus
that was about to depart. They raced after it and, laughing hysterically,
jumped through the bus doors.

Her heart pounding,
Janet threw her head back. “We made it.”

“Yes, we did.” Dean
paid the bus fare for both of them.

They sat by the window.
“There’s something special about riding the bus at night, isn’t there?” Janet
said.

“I like riding the bus
at night too. I think it has to do with having a space that’s normally so
crowded all to yourself.” Dean eyed a sleeping passenger in the far corner.
“Well, almost all to yourself.” He grinned. “When I was a kid, I used to sneak
into my school building at night. There was just something special about seeing
the space that was bursting with people during the day all peaceful and quiet
at night. It was my sanctuary when I needed a quiet place to think.”

“Sometimes, when I’m
riding the bus at night, I like to pretend that I’m lost at sea and that the
bus is a lifeboat that’s been sent to save passengers from a shipwreck.
Somehow, it always makes me feel better.” Janet halted, unsettled by her own
candidness. She barely knew the guy, and here she was, opening up to him for no
particular reason other than the fact that they were riding the bus together
after having had a few drinks.

“I know what you mean.”
Dean nodded. “Sometimes I think that life itself is like being lost at sea,
paddling your way to the shore.”

Janet looked away. She
did not know Dean well enough to reveal any more of herself to him.

There it was: an
uncomfortable silence. But when Janet looked back at Dean, she saw him smile
back, letting her know that it was completely all right not to have to say a
thing.

Janet’s stop was coming
up, and she signaled for the driver to stop.

The bus came to a halt,
and Dean held out his hand to help her out of the bus. His grip was firm and
warm, and Janet felt both flustered and excited as her fingers touched Dean’s.

“Well, thanks for the
bus ride. I’m all the way on Second Avenue,” Janet added, giving Dean a way out
to say goodnight.

“What kind of a guy do
you think I am? I said I’d see you home, Janet. Besides, it’s a wonderful
evening for a walk.”

Janet felt a surge of
flattering warmth run through her: this was turning out to be a surprisingly
exciting Monday night. She was about to thank Dean for his gallantry when she
had a feeling of things being amiss. She checked her watch. It was a quarter
after ten. Suddenly, she remembered that she had forgotten about picking up
Baxter from her neighbor, who had agreed to dog sit for her. Janet felt her
face flush with guilt. There she was flirting with Dean while Baxter was
waiting for her.

“Is everything all
right?” Dean asked.

“I have to pick up my
dog from my neighbor and I’m late.”

“Well, then, we’d
better walk fast.”

Fifteen minutes later,
Janet rang her neighbor’s door.

There was a sound of
clicking heels from behind the door, after which the front door opened, and
Mrs. Chapman appeared on the doorstep. Mrs. Chapman was a widow. She was in her
seventies, but maintained that age was just a number and insisted on acting
accordingly. True to her usual self, she was wearing a patchwork-patterned
tunic and leggings, complete with pompom adorned pink kitten mules. Her bright
red hair framed her face in taut ringlets – it was a new hairstyle.

While trying not to
look too shocked by the fiery red of Mrs. Chapman’s extravagant tresses, Janet
was about to introduce Dean to her neighbor, but was interrupted by Baxter, who
pushed through the door crack and started pawing at Janet’s legs.

“Good evening Mrs.
Chapman,” Janet managed to say as she tried to keep Baxter from ruining her
tights.

“Hi, there, Janet.
Baxter is sure glad to see you.” Mrs. Chapman chuckled, patting her hair.

“New hairstyle,” Janet
remarked obligingly. “It’s very much you.”

“Why, thank you, dear.
At first I thought it was a bit much, but it’s starting to grow on me now.”
Mrs. Chapman changed her hair at least once a month, saying that at her age she
was lucky enough to have hair left on her head and she might as well have fun
with it. “I don’t know about Baxter, though – I don’t think he likes it.”

As if in confirmation,
Baxter sat up on his hind paws and barked.

“Baxter!” Janet pressed
her hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh, but Baxter’s attention had already
drifted elsewhere, as he began to warily sniff Dean’s trousers.

“And who is your
friend? I didn’t realize we were in male company.” Mrs. Chapman adjusted her
hair again, peering at Dean curiously.

“Dean, Dean Snider,”
Dean beat Janet to the introduction. “We work together,” he added, anticipating
Mrs. Chapman’s next question.

“Well, Janet, I dare
say your new job must be fun,” Mrs. Chapman remarked. “But look at the time…
I’ve got to run; it’s getting late, and I want to be up bright and early
tomorrow to start working on the aria from Madame Butterfly. Goodnight, you
two. Oh, and Janet,” Mrs. Chapman added, throwing a side glance at Dean, “I
didn’t get around to Baxter’s evening walk, so you’ll have to take him. Sorry
about that. Toodles.”

“Madame Butterfly?”
Dean raised his eyebrows quizzically.

“Mrs. Chapman used to
be an opera singer.”

Dean whistled. “I
didn’t know you had celebrity neighbors.”

Janet shook her head.
“Mrs. Chapman sang small opera parts, but mostly she worked as a librarian
until she got married. She loves opera – it’s a big part of her life.”

As if to confirm
Janet’s words, there was a sound of singing notes coming from behind Mrs.
Chapman’s door.

“It sounds like you
don’t have any lack of entertainment.” Dean glanced at Mrs. Chapman’s door,
which was adjacent to Janet’s apartment door.

“It has its pluses and
minuses.” Janet grinned. Baxter tugged at his leash, reminding Janet of his
presence. “Well, I’ve got to walk Baxter; thanks for seeing me home.”

“You mean to tell me
that after rushing like crazy to pick up the little fella, I don’t get to come
along for the fun part?”

As if siding with Dean,
Baxter barked, waving his tail. Dean reached down and rubbed Baxter behind his
ear, in response to which Baxter licked Dean’s hand.

“I think he likes you.”
Janet grinned. “He usually doesn’t like guys.” This was true – ever since Janet
and Alex had broken up, Baxter had taken a dislike to all members of the male
sex, as if blaming the entire male gender for Alex’s abominable behavior.

“Dogs usually like me.”
Dean smiled at Baxter. “And I like them.”

“In that case, Baxter
and I would be delighted if you joined us for Baxter’s evening walk.”

Dean held the lobby
door open for Janet as they exited onto the street. Baxter pulled at his leash
anxiously, eager to explore the street. Janet smiled to herself, her initial
suspicion confirmed: Mrs. Chapman had set the entire thing up. If Baxter had
not been walked, he would have been preoccupied with matters of greater
importance. Janet peeked at Dean’s handsome profile and mouthed a silent thank
you to her neighbor.

They headed for Carl
Schurz Park. It was an ideal night, with the moon hanging low in the inky sky
and a breeze coming in from the water. The perfect setting for a kiss, Janet
mused. Not that she was going to act on her thought, but a girl could dream.
Baxter, however, seemed to be unfazed by the romantic atmosphere, as he tugged
at his leash, heading in the direction of the dog playground.

“He sure knows what he
wants out of life.” Dean grinned at Baxter’s determination.

“Do you mind if we stop
by the dog playground?” Janet asked.

“Not at all.”

Janet usually brought
Baxter’s toys along with her, but tonight she had left them at her apartment.
Baxter looked up expectantly at her, waiting for the usual ball toss.

“Sorry, Bax – not
today.” Janet shrugged. “I left your toys at home.”

“I think we can figure
something out.” Dean picked up a stick from the ground.

Baxter’s hind legs
twitched with anticipation, his tongue hanging from the side of his opened
mouth.

“Here you go, boy,
fetch!” Dean threw the stick to the other side of the playground, and Baxter
stormed after it.

“Do you have a dog?”
Janet asked. She knew next to nothing about Dean, and yet there they were,
walking Baxter together.

“No.” Dean shook his
head. “But I used to walk a dog for someone when I was a kid.”

Janet felt a warm
tingling in her chest. How could a girl resist a guy who loved dogs?

By now Baxter had
returned and placed the stick at Dean’s feet, breathing heavily with
expectation. Dean threw the stick again, and Baxter stormed after it.

“Dean?”

“Yes?”

“How long have you been
at Bostoff Securities?”

“Not that long,” Dean
answered slowly. “Just a few weeks longer than you.”

“Do you find anything
odd about the place?” Janet asked before she could stop herself. There was
something about Dean’s demeanor that made her want to trust him, almost
uncannily so.

Dean shrugged. “Every
place has its own quirks. Why, what have you noticed?”

Janet hesitated. She
was the one who had started the conversation, but until she got to know Dean
better, she was not going to say a thing more.

“Oh, there were a few
outliers I found while preparing for the audit, but nothing completely out of
the ordinary. I just meant that it’s kind of odd that the whole family is
involved in the business – Bostoff Senior and his two sons, and now my boss,
Lisa, is engaged to Paul Bostoff…”

“These things can get
tricky,” Dean cut her off, and she thought she saw a shadow of disappointment
on his face. “Well, it’s getting late. I’d better get going. I’m all the way
down in Soho.”

Janet felt the air grow
rigid between them. She had a ridiculous sensation that Dean guessed exactly
what it was that bothered her about Bostoff.

“I wish it weren’t
Monday night,” Dean added quickly. “I’ll walk up to Second Avenue with you and
catch a cab there. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be there.” Janet
felt her ease returning to her. She had imagined the entire thing. Dean was
just tired.

***

Back in his apartment,
Dennis draped his jacket over the hanger and loosened his tie. It was almost
midnight, and he had to be at Bostoff at seven thirty a.m. tomorrow – the same
time he was always required to come in, lest some dimwitted trader need help to
turn on his computer. Judging by the quality of traders that Bostoff hired, it
was no wonder that the company had to cater to corrupt hedge funds. The kind of
dullards Bostoff hired were no doubt cheap, but they were also incapable of
generating any respectable business. But then, Jon Bostoff was not interested
in respectable business, so he hired the kind of people who would not bat an
eyelash at the slimy schemes Dennis suspected Bostoff Securities was engaged
in. If only Hank Bostoff knew about the sort of outfit Bostoff Securities was
turning into under his son’s stewardship…

By now, Dennis knew
enough about Bostoff’s business to understand that the corrupt direction in
which the firm was heading was all Jon Bostoff’s doing. While still nominally
in charge of the company, Hank Bostoff had little idea about his son’s business
methods, and Paul Bostoff had no business in the world of finance. This
realization saddened Dennis. He could only imagine the disappointment Hank
would endure once the investigation would commence – the same kind of
disappointment Dennis had, albeit unwittingly, caused his own mentor in what
now felt like a different life, many years ago.

Dennis turned on the
shower and stood under the pulsating stream of water, willing his brain to go
blank, but failing. Bostoff Securities investigation was proving to be much
more difficult than he had expected. Since he had started working for the Feds
and then the Treasury, Dennis had relentlessly plowed away with the assignments
put in front of him. An investigation was just that: an investigation. It was
Dennis’s duty to bring the culprits to justice to atone for his own mistakes: mistakes
that continued to haunt him, no matter how many crooks he caught and how many
schemes he exposed. Dennis closed his eyes and turned his face under the water
stream. Janet’s face hovered before his eyes, reminding him just how hopelessly
naïve he had been. An investigation – any investigation – involved people, and
Janet Maple was among the people who would get hurt once Bostoff’s corrupt
operations were exposed.