He scowled. "Like I'm a shivering stray puppy you want to pat on the head."
She lowered her lashes, hiding her turbulent emotions from his too-discerning gaze. "Mr. Bond, I think your vivid imagination is running amok again. Let's get to work."
Still scowling, he ambled down the hall. She entered her office and sat at her desk to sort memos, but her mind wasn't on the task. How could she help Gabe? Could she help him? Was there a way to heal the wounds he tried so hard to hide? She looked up as he entered carrying a steaming mug.
"Howdy ma'am, brought you a cup of Earl Grey." He perched on the corner of her desk and handed her the mug.
She smiled. "Trying to kiss up to the boss?"
He beamed a naughty grin. "Nah. If I wanted to do that, I'd get under the desk."
Molten lava flooded her veins, and she jerked her gaze away from his sparkling eyes. A lesson well learned. She couldn't afford to get involved, even on a "just friends" basis. Things too easily got out of hand between them. She'd better keep her distance, let him do his job and leave.
Seeking a distraction, her attention snagged on a pile of ink-spattered papers. "Speaking of that incident, you either owe Trask a new suit or a cleaning bill. I'm surprised he didn't fire me." She shook her head. "Blue ink all over his beige suit. What a mess." She stared at the papers, frowning. "Something…" She concentrated on the dried silvery-blue puddles. "Blue ink."
"Yeah? So, it's blue."
Tessa looked up at him. "'Black pens only' is one of Trask's unbreakable rules. Black ink looks more professional and photocopies better." She touched the dried ink. "And this isn't even regular blue, it's a silvery-blue. Where did I get that pen?" She tapped her chin, trying to remember. "I know! The day I showed you the vault. I logged out and stuck the pen in my pocket. I didn't register the color because I was … distracted."
Gabe leaned forward. "And the significance would be?"
"Since we constantly have a pen in our hand, one of the bad habits we bankers have is subconsciously picking them up wherever we go. Only Carla and I had vault access, and this ink is a very distinctive shade of blue. It's a long shot, but if we can trace the pen—"
He leapt up. "I like the way your mind works. Where's the pen?"
"I threw it away." She peered inside her wastebasket. "Uh-oh. The janitorial staff emptied the trash last night."
"Where do they take the garbage?"
"Documents are shredded, paper is recycled and the trash—" She groaned. "We are not digging through the Dumpster."
He grinned. "Do you have anything better planned?"
"Yes, work. What if somebody sees us? Besides, it will be like looking for a needle in a very unsanitary haystack."
"Where's your spirit of adventure?" He removed the mug from her clenched hand and set it on the desk.
"At home, with my hazmat suit." She shuddered. "You can fly solo on this one, Secret Agent Man. I refuse to rifle through a Dumpster."
Gabe was staring at her mug. "Maybe you won't have to." He moved the cup aside, and then lifted her inbox. "Look." He held up a jagged half of a pen.
"I missed a piece." With a smile she rolled her gaze heavenward. "Thank you," she breathed.
He squinted at the printing on the side. "—ue Moon Club?"
"The Blue Moon Club is a jazz and blues place downtown."
"If Carla was involved with the counterfeiters, and she frequented the Blue Moon Club, it bears checking out. Immediately."
"I can't leave right now, I'll get fired!"
He punched numbers into the phone. "I assume Trask has voice mail?" His voice spiked high and nasal. "This is Dr. Franklin's office. Miss Beaumont was treated in urgent care yesterday for laryngitis. She requires bed rest and won't be at work for several days." He hung up, and then phoned himself in sick as "Gabe Bond."
"All set."
"But who's going to run the office?"
"I'm not sitting on this until the trail gets any colder." He held the door open. "Maybe after Trask does your job for a while, he'll appreciate you more."
"After this fiasco, I won't have a job." Reluctantly, she followed him to the car.
Gabe made a five-minute stop at a gas station to change from his nerd disguise into a black rayon T-shirt, pleated slacks and black sport jacket he produced from a gym bag in the trunk. He climbed inside the car,