Hard Case by Elizabeth Lapthorne Page B

smoothed his vest down. “This is unexpected. Did I miss an appointment for you both? You’re not in Mr. Marshall’s book.”
    “Oh, not me,” Steve said. “I’m just tagging along. I’ll hang out here—or even out in the foyer.”
    Steven stopped where he was, half way across the thickly carpeted room. He and Troy had discussed the ‘plan of attack’ on the way over. Unsure whether he really should even be present, Steve had offered to wait in the car, not wanting to be in the way.
    Troy had insisted he’d certainly not be a problem and they’d had a friendly banter over it. Steven was interested in Troy’s case, and curious enough to want to see it to completion, but he still felt odd bumbling along with his partner. Still, he was so attached to Troy the thought of sitting idly by—for Steven really had nothing better to do just now—rankled.
    He just couldn’t shake the feeling this was a bad idea.
    Despite that, Steve had a deep suspicion neither of them were really ready to be parted now they’d solidified their relationship. But Steve didn’t want to step on any toes, or use Troy’s career and perks to hobnob with any so-called important people.
    They’d finally agreed Steve would accompany Troy to the outer office—Leland’s domain—and he’d simply wait around until after Troy had discussed again his queries with Marshall. They’d play the rest by ear.
    “I do apologize for not having an appointment,” Troy said smoothly. “I really won’t need much of Mr. Marshall’s time, though. Just a few routine follow up questions. I should be in and out in ten minutes. There won’t even be time to get a cup of tea, my word on it.”
    “Well…” Steve frowned as Leland seemed uncertain. He realized the dapper young man seemed different somehow from their previous meeting. Still suave and smooth, neat as a pin and looking like a poster boy for a metrosexual, eager young budding politician, Leland nevertheless seemed somewhat flummoxed by something.
    He recovered quickly enough, pasting that bright, cheery white smile back on his face. Leland held out a hand to indicate the door that led to the inner office—Marshall’s— and seemed to try and herd both Steve and Troy in.
    “Of course,” Leland said in a rush. “Pardon my manners, but it’s been a crazy morning, you understand. All this extra security and the stress of knowing someone wished dear Keyton harm and…well, I’m sure you’re perfectly used to it but I just can’t quite wrap my head around it still. Please, won’t you both come in?”
    Steven was sure he must be mistaken, but for just a split second he thought Leland might be sweating slightly. He stepped forward, his instincts as a nurse to check the man’s pulse, feel his skin and offer him a seat as instinctive as breathing. Leland brightened, his smile now seeming forced, but Steven saw he was wrong. The man wasn’t sweating after all.
    Shaking his head, Steve realized he’d let the intrigue of the moment catch up with him. Or perhaps the lack of sleep from the night before was letting him see shadows where there were none. He’d been discussing conspiracy theories, old cases and all sorts of devious double-crosses and convoluted plans with Troy far too much this last week, obviously.
    “Thank you, Leland, but no,” Steve replied firmly. “I’m grateful for the open invitation, but I’d be of no use to Mr. Marshall in there. I’ll only be in the way. I’m happy to wait out here, or even down in the foyer, if you wish.”
    “Oh, are you sure, Mr. Thompson? Really, I’m sure it’s no bother—”
    “I’m certain. Thank you,” Steve insisted.
    “Well, of course,” Leland said. “Mr. Price, let me just inform Mr. Marshall of your presence. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to spare you a few minutes.”
    Leland hurried back around his desk and depressed the button for the inter office intercom. “Mr. Marshall, Mr. Price is here again for a few