Her Man Friday
about it. And he just didn't see any reason to deny himself the simple pleasure of watching her.
    In that snug skirt and those smoky stockings, she was, in a word,
very hot
. Okay, so that was two words. One word just wasn't enough for a woman like that. A woman who, one minute, was throwing looks his way that would outgun a flame-thrower, then the next minute was unflinchingly inspecting a pig's spleen, then the next minute was coming to the defense of a young girl who obviously had some serious problems.
Issues
, Lily Rigby had called them.
Felonies
was probably more like it.
    And then another thought struck him when he recalled Miss Rigby's revelation that Kimball's young ward had been at Ashling for about a year and a half. That meant the industrious Chloe had come to live here right around the beginning of last fiscal year. And if Miss Rigby was to be believed—something on which Leo's mental jury was still definitely
out—
then the troubled Chloe was also a gifted child.
    Well, my, my, my, he pondered as he forced his feet to move in the direction of Schuyler Kimball's office. Presuming that the girl's gifts weren't homicidal in nature, or spawned by a chemical imbalance in the brain, then Kimball's ward might warrant a bit of investigation herself. Just what were they teaching kids in computer science class these days anyway? Seeing as how he hadn't uncovered much of anything else so far today, maybe he'd just try a new tack and see where it led him.
    Leo made his way quickly back to Kimball's office—well, as quickly as he could, considering the fact that Kimball's house was roughly the size of Rhode Island—and rifled through his briefcase until he located his telephone directory. Then, snatching up the phone, he dialed his good buddy Eddie Dolan, a man who was connected in ways that no one operating within the parameters of the American justice system ought to ponder. Eddie Dolan, who could find out anything about anybody… for a pretty hefty fee.
    Good thing Eddie owed Leo a big favor. Normally, he'd never be able to afford the price Eddie's superiors charged, which generally consisted of five figures. Or a selected body part. Depending on one's relationship with the guy and his… employers. Not to mention the size of one's debt.
    The phone rang a good half dozen times before being picked up at the other end, and then a few more moments passed before a gravely voice muttered in greeting, "Whattaya want?"
    "Whoa, Eddie, have you been reading Martha Stewart books again?" Leo asked. "Your telephone etiquette has come a long, long way."
    There was another moment of silence in which Leo envisioned Eddie squinting bleartly at the phone as he tried to figure out just where the hell he'd woken up anyway. People who did their business during the hours when most people—people who
weren't
involved in questionable lifestyles—were sleeping, tended to be pretty sleepy and incoherent at… Leo glanced down at his watch. Oh, say, three o'clock in the afternoon.
    Finally, though, Eddie's voice sounded from the other end of the line. "Leo?" he grumbled. "That you?"
    "Yeah, it's me."
    "Whattaya want?"
    Leo chuckled. "I need some information about some people."
    "What people?"
    "Schuyler Kimball, his immediate family, and the various and sundry persons he has working for him at his estate."
    "Ooo, well, la-di-da," the other man replied. "And what is it you want to know about His Highness, the King of Kimball and all his royal subjects?"
    "I'll take whatever you can get," Leo told him.
    "That means you want me to get all the dirty, lowdown, under-the-rug stuff you couldn't get on your own, being the upright, forthright, do-right kinda guy that you are. Right?"
    "Right."
    He heard the other man sigh heavily at the other end. "Well, you know, Leo, that kinda information isn't easy to come by. I might hafta rough somebody up."
    " 'Rough somebody up'?" Leo repeated dubiously. "You couldn't rough somebody up if your life depended

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