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this might be something she could look forward to.
    “Good. Saves me the trouble of calling the police.” As soon as she’d said it, she wondered why. Calling the police was not what she was really thinking.
    “That won’t be necessary. Just hear me out first, and if you still want to call them, I won’t be able to object. It’s your right. But I’m sorry about…”
    “This him?” Simms immediately stepped next to Christy, and, after sizing up the physique and bearing of the stranger, pegged him. “Navy, right?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    Wayne appeared at the end of the hallway, but his ego had turned to pudding. He hovered in the shadow, half protected by a wall.
    Simms continued. “I’m Carl Simms, the manager here. Ms. Nelson was just telling me how you terrorized her yesterday. Scared this nice young lady to death. I’ve advised her to call the police, and if she doesn’t, I will.” Simms delivered this with determination, but Christy noted he stayed a healthy two steps away from the large Navy man.
    The visitor had been looking at Simms, but in the silence that followed, his blue gaze turned back on Christy, as if to beg for time alone with her. And damn, she was going to give it to him, too. There was something there she needed to find out about. She had too many questions about the day before to be consistently angry. And how could she, when he looked at her like that?
    “Why don’t we go to the conference room and discuss this?” Christy offered softly.
    “That sounds fair to me,” the stranger replied. He didn’t take his eyes off Christy when he added, “Simms, you can join us if you like.”
    “Christy?” Simms asked.
    “I think I’ll be okay. Thanks.”
    “Can someone take these please?” the man said, holding up the heavy metal signs like they were a carton of Chinese food.
    “Those are mine.” Wayne darted from the shadows and grabbed them away without looking at the stranger. The signs clattered and he almost dropped them.
    “I’m guessing you must be Wayne.”
    Wayne shot him a murderous look, then adjusted his bravado and walked away, carrying the signs awkwardly in both hands. He was swearing under his breath, his sport coat stretching across his shoulders and his knees bumping the metal signs as he lumbered off.
    Christy drew back the sliding door to the conference room as the stranger passed by too close. A fresh soap scent made her eyes flutter and her nose itch. He found a spot at the head of the table facing out to the reception area and remained standing until Christy slid the door closed. When she took the chair at his left, he sat in tandem with her.
    He pushed the flowers in her direction across the laminate tabletop. She noticed again the tattoo of footprints from some unknown three-toed creature that traversed up his forearm.
    “These are yours. Once again, I am very sorry.” His voice, raspy and soft, drew her complete attention. His large hand squeezed the plastic outer wrap with a delicious crunch. The package displayed a colorful spring gathering of daffodils, stock, and baby green chrysanthemums. A few sprigs of lavender had been added for garnish. The glorious smell of the bouquet filled the room. The flowers had obviously been hand selected and the bouquet freshly made. She noticed things like that. Some of her past boyfriends hadn’t even bothered to take the price tags off the supermarket bunches. This bouquet probably set him back a good twenty dollars.
    A whole lot cheaper than bail. Some of her anger returned, but she gave him a curt thank you.
    He pulled his hand back and leaned against the table. He took a deep breath, and then exhaled as he began his story. “My name is Kyle Lansdowne. I am in the Navy. I’m looking for my Navy buddy and best friend, who is missing.”
    “Okay.”
    “The house…where we…met…belongs to my friend, Armando. I’d begun to look for him and thought I would start there.”
    “Naked?”
    “Well.” Kyle suppressed a