Chapter 4

Marc cinched his robe tightly as he quickly stepped down the stairs from his loft, heading across the apartment to the door. It wasn’t so late that a visitor was out of the question, but he hadn’t been expecting a delivery or anyone dropping by so it was a little strange that his evening was being interrupted. He had been an early adopter of the Ring doorbells with the built-in camera and had a tablet mounted to the wall near his front door. He thumbed it on and looked out and raised his eyebrows in surprise, then turned on the microphone.

“Bonsoir, Detective,” he said evenly.

“Mr Fornier, mind opening the door?” Detective Connors said after a startled moment at hearing his voice. She quickly spotted the doorbell camera and looked down into it.

“Well, meaning no offence, Detective,” Marc replied. “But this can’t be a social visit so I must ask if you have a search warrant?”

The Detective sighed and ran her fingers through her long, coppery red hair. “I don’t have a warrant, and I’m not here to do a search or question you, Mr Fornier.”

“So this is a social visit then?” Marc asked, his lip curling into a bit of a smirk.

“Well, no,” the Detective said. “It’s something in between. Look, this is uncomfortable to talk about like this. Could you please invite me in?”

Marc let himself indulge in a full smirk for a moment. “Alright, Detective. But no funny business.”

He watched her for a moment longer on the doorbell cam and she ran her fingers through her hair again as if fixing it, then glanced down and tugged at the collar of her t-shirt under her leather jacket, fixing her bra to show off a little more cleavage. Marc wasn’t sure what she was after, but the Detective was clearly planning on trying to distract him with her looks.

Two could play that game.

Marc went to the door and loosened the collar of his robe so a bit more of his chest showed, then fixed his own hair before unlocking the door and opening it. “My apologies for my state, Detective,” he said with a welcoming smile. “You interrupted me during my evening ablutions. Please come in.”

“Oh,” the Detective said, hesitating a moment as she looked Marc up and down in his robe, but finally stepped inside.

Marc led her into the apartment and to the kitchen island, pulling out a stool and offering it to her before pulling out his own across from her. “It’s quite a surprise to see you,” Marc said as he led her into the apartment. “I had certainly thought our previous encounter would be our last. Not that I mind seeing you, that is. A pointed conversation with a woman as ... aggressively sure of herself as you are is always a stimulating experience.”

Detective Connors had eyed Marc up and down several times, and as she sat she looked around at his apartment in a curiously analytical sort of way. “You have a lovely home,” she offered. “You live alone?”

Marc smiled softly. “You know I do, Detective.”

“Please, um, call me Sinead,” the Detective said. “This isn’t exactly a formal visit, so...”

“Titles shouldn’t come into it?” Marc asked with a raised eyebrow. “In that case can I offer you a coffee? I have decaf.”

“Do you have tea?” she asked.

“I do,” Marc nodded, standing back up from his still and moving to get a kettle going. “So, Sinead, what can I do for you? And please, call me Marc.”

“Well, Marc, after our last conversation I found myself interested in your line of work,” Sinead said. “Your resume was impressive, and the way your employer spoke about you was very flattering.”

“Interrogation,” Marc said as he set the kettle on the stovetop burner.

“Pardon?” Sinead asked.

“Our last conversation was an interrogation,” Marc said, turning and smiling at her. “Not that I minded, I just think it’s important to remember things in the truest light. I was interrogated by two beautiful police detectives. It makes for quite the story at work dinners.”

Sinead blushed, just slightly, at the offhanded compliment even while she pressed her lips together in a firm line. She really was a striking woman. Her hair hung in thick waves down to the small of her back now that she didn’t have it tied back in a ponytail, and she had a striking jawline to go with her thin frame. If she weren’t in her mid-thirties Marc wouldn’t have been surprised if she could have been one of those ‘influencers’ on Instagram and done fairly well for herself. Or become one of those OnlyFans self-employed pornstars. Well, she likely would have been successful even with her age. She had a small bust, a pushup bra under her t-shirt likely doing a lot of the work to form the cleavage she had, and while he hadn’t seen it in her tight black jeans yet he remembered that she had a wonderfully formed ass in her business slacks.

“That’s ... true,” Sinead said.

“So, you’re interested in my work?” Marc asked.

“I am,” Sinead said. “It’s one of those things that there are only a few people can do well, and it seems like everyone who can does it purely in the private sector. It’s really pretty amazing.”

She was laying it on thick. Sinead knew that she was attractive and was leading into an ask of some sort, but Marc was having fun with this. “Well, to be entirely fair, private practice pays much better than public service in almost every way.”

“That must be true,” Sinead said, looking around the apartment again. “I’m just so curious about it all though, Marc. Do you think maybe you could show me a thing or two? A couple of tips, maybe?”

Marc snorted softly, glancing over at the kettle as it was starting to hum as it warmed up, then back to the redhead. “You came here at almost nine in the evening to ask for tips on corporate mergers, or on forensic auditing? Do you think, Sinead, that maybe you have something else in mind?”