Memphis May Fire (#1 of the Harleigh Lynn series)

Chapter Three: Pressure

When Harleigh reported to work the next morning, she wore her uniform, and it felt stiff and wrong. She hadn't slept. She hadn't heard a word from anyone, and she had a sinking feeling today would be the day she was fired. She went up the steps anyway, heart pounding.

"You could take the elevator, unless you're afraid of it," Gene said.

He waited at the top of the stairs, leaning against the wall. She eyed his casual posture and his ruffled blond hair. 

Probably took him an hour to get his hair so 'naturally' styled. He's waiting for something. My reaction? What does he expect?

She chose to say nothing, turning down the hall to the conference room. She didn't check to see if he followed, focusing instead on the possibilities that lay ahead of her. But when she cracked open the door to the room, it lay empty. Half of her wanted to sit in the dark and feel sorry for herself, close the door, and hope they forgot all about her. Harleigh shut the door and went to Pereira's office door. His receptionist didn't look up when she came in.

"They're hanging out in the office. Feel free to go on in."

She doesn't know what happened yet. Gene let me go the wrong way. What is his issue?

Harleigh moved to the door and pressed her ear against it. She heard a peal of clear laughter.

Ari? He must be listening to Gene. Gene is the funny one.

She had a sinking feeling she knew what they were laughing about. Harleigh breathed in through her nose and pulled her pink hair into a ponytail, then opened the door. Ari's office was more like a repurposed living room. Along one wall was a row of desks with computers and chairs. There were four, and Ari, Gene, and Markov occupied three of the spinning chairs. Wilma had spread out files on the couch, rifling though them. A large window let the sun in, and a coffee table held mints and a flowering plant.

Ari looked up.

"Good morning," he said.

He doesn't sound angry yet. He's tired. Why?

Gene cocked his eyebrows at her, clearly wanting her to say something.

Bully. He wants a reaction. No, needs. He needs a reaction.

"Hi," Harleigh said.

Wilma nodded at her, hoop earrings bobbing.

"Ok crew, since we are all here, let's get to work. Pereira, did you get that call?"

Ari shook his head.

"I'm waiting."

"It probably won't turn up anything," Markov sighed, folding his arms, and leaning back in his chair, "These things happen. Leads peter out."

"Not all leads," Pereira corrected, "We have another fire in the meantime. They expect us in twenty minutes."

"Didn't know?" Gene asked looking at Harleigh, "Do you read the headlines?"

Harleigh shook her head.

"No."

Gene waited expectantly. Harleigh didn't say anything as Wilma kept shuffling files.

"Nothing else weird yet," she reported, "The gunman was apprehended, Harleigh. So no worries there, at least not yet."

Harleigh felt relief flood her.