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League type. And was. Old money. And from all accounts Perfect Match was a gift from his megasuccessful father. A way of keeping Addison a productive member of society. So far, it’d worked. Despite a fairly recent dip in business, it was the most successful agency of its type in the city.
    â€œKate Kennedy, Joe Farrell,” Merrick continued. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Welcome.”
    She felt Joe stiffen slightly but couldn’t ask him why. It probably had something to do with the guard who was studying them a little too carefully.
    Joe extended his hand to Merrick. “Thanks. It looks like joining Perfect Match was the wise thing to do.” He smiled lovingly at Katelyn before he slid his attention back to Merrick. “By the way, a friend of mine said he might be here tonight. Chad Benton. Have you seen him?”
    Chad Benton? Katelyn had no idea what this was about. There was no one by that name associated with this case.
    Merrick shook his head. “We’re expecting a big crowd so you might want to check to see if your friend’s name tag is on the table.”
    Merrick’s suggestion was just the beginning, however, and not a prelude to a departure. He wasted no time latching on to her hand, and like a good host, he introduced Joe and her to the other couple. By the time he’d finished, more clients had started to trickle in.
    Bruce Donovan did his hosting duties, as well. He began pouring the champagne—lots of it. Nothing like alcohol to kick up the libido and lower the defenses. The piped-in music switched to a slow, sultry beat.
    â€œWhat about that little problem?” she asked Joe the moment Merrick walked away. She looped her arm through his and leaned against him, snuggling, so she could speak as softly as possible.
    â€œSomeone’s watching the place.”
    Okay. Maybe it wasn’t so little after all. “Any idea who?”
    â€œYeah.”
    Again, no explanation since groping-boy, Bruce Donovan, walked up to them with a tray of filled champagne glasses. Even when they both declined, the man didn’t move far enough away for them to have a private conversation.
    Joe remedied that. Smiling and whispering sweet nothings about how glad he was to see her again, he led Katelyn to the far end of the room and then just inside the hallway that led to the agency’s offices. He angled them so they wouldn’t be facing the camera in the reception room.
    â€œFiona Shipley,” Joe informed her. When the static crackled in their respective communicators, he turned his off, because the now close proximity was interfering with reception. “She’s parked outside watching the building.”
    Katelyn didn’t have to ask who that was. Fiona was a regular client at Perfect Match and a former acquaintance of Raul Hernandez, the murdered groom, and that was former acquaintance in a really bad way. After Fiona and Raul had met, dated and then broken up, she had apparently threatened him. The police had been looking for her but hadn’t been able to locate her—not since she’d quit her job and moved out of her apartment. Apparently though, she’d come to them.
    â€œNo sign of her carrying an assault rifle, huh?” Katelyn asked, only partly joking.
    â€œNot that I could see, but I’ve got two officers in a surveillance van watching her just in case.” Joe glanced over his shoulder and mumbled some profanity. “Play along.”
    That was it. No other warning. No hint that he was about to launch into a full-contact charade.
    Joe pushed her against the wall and kissed her. He pressed his body against her. Snugly against her. Until they were aligned like human puzzle parts.
    Katelyn caught a glimpse of Addison Merrick watching them from the reception room. So this was Joe’s version of a get-lost tactic.
    Joe kept the mouth-to-mouth clinical. Well, as clinical as something like that could be, considering