(Manday)

THE BEAR HAD TOPPLED my bird feeder again, the two aspirin I'd gulped with a swig of Pepsi weren't making a dent in my headache (note to self: don't try to match father Dan drink for drink ever again), and I was late for my first appointment of the week. As the owner and currently sole employee of a private investigation business teetering on the edge of solvency, I couldn't afford to piss off potential clients by being tardy.

Unfortunately, the woman tapping her foot outside the door of Swift Investigation did not look like a happy camper when I screeched to a stop in my Subaru Outback.

I assessed the waiting woman through the windshield as I gathered my purse and laptop. She was taller than my five foot three and rangy, dressed in a spiffy red suit and low-heeled pumps. Midthirties, at a guess. Everything about her said ``wound too tight, "from the French- braided hair pulling the skin of her face taut to the way her eyes skittered to her watch, to me, and to the infant car seat at her feet. Shit. Who brings a baby to a business meeting?

I got out of the car and offered her my hand. ``I got tied up with a burglary, I said in lieu of an apology. I'd bet the burglar had snarfed down at least fifteen dollars' worth of the primo seed blend I put out to attack songbirds. You must be Melissa Lloyd. C'mon in."

She bent to pick up bthe baby carrier as I unlocked the door and flicked the light switch. The illuminated space was simple, clean, and organize, just the way I liked it. off-white walls made the office look larger than it was. My desk filled the , back right corner by a window with wooden blinds. A matching desk, currently unoccupied since my last assistant left to become an aromatherapist, sat with the long side making an L with the door. A closed door led to the small bathroom in the back left corner.

``You are Charlotte Swift, the investigator? Ms. Lloyd paused just inside the door.

``Last I looked." I crossed the nubby, green-flecked carpet

and sat behind my desk, stowing my stuff beneath it. Swiveling my chair, I pulled a Pepsi from the mini fridge against the wall and popped the flip-top. I offered one to Ms. Lloyd with a gesture, but she shook her head, looking repulsed. I could see the word ``coffee" hovering in her mind, but she didn't speak it. just as well, because I don't even have a coffee maker, I don't want to encourage people to linger. There's a café two doors down if they're that desperate to feed their addiction.

She wasn't. She settled the baby on top of the empty desk, tucked a yellow blanket around it, and seated herself in one of the uncomfortable chairs.

``Cute kid." I said perfunctory, barely able to make out a wisp of dark hair poking from beneath the blanket. ``How old? ``A little over a week."

Melissa Lloyd damned trim for someone who'd just popped out a baby. Maybe she was into Pilates. I drew a legal pad towards me. ``You said on the phone you need to find someone?"

``Yess. Your Yellow Pages ad said missing persons is your specialty right?"

Since her furrowed brown seemed to indicate she needed reassurance, I said, ``I've been in business here for almost six years. For the past four, I've specialized in finding missing persons. Before becoming a PI, I was in the Air Force Office of Special Investigation the OSI. You've seen NCIS, about the Navy investigator? Like, only without Mark Harmon.