Ino fanned herself with the Perfect Match folder.
Even though the sun was on the verge of setting, the summer heat was still escaping in filmy waves off the asphalt. It was muggy.
She willed herself not to sweat as she hurried across the parking lot toward the sprawling building that housed the Perfect Match Agency. Willing didn't work. A slick bead of perspiration slithered down the center of her back.
As Ino stepped through the front door of the agency, she mumbled a "thank you" for the Arctic blast of the A/C and made her way to the reception area.
An empty area, she soon learned.
Empty, no doubt, because she was early. Her early arrival in this case would allow her time to double check the few things she could actually double check. Exits. Bullet-accessible windows. Security cameras, like the one mounted on the light fixture in the center of the room. It also gave her some time to take a deep breath and steady her nerves.
Someone had decorated the spacious rectangle-shaped room. Unlike her earlier visit, tonight there were bunches of gold balloons in the corner, huge bouquets of cream-colored flowers in crystal vases and bottles of champagne angled into gleaming silver ice buckets. Soft romantic music filled the background. The stage was set for love. But hopefully not murder.
She was armed with a Glock in her purse. It was her preferred poison when she needed to carry light. And thanks to the flexible, pencil-size device beneath her collar, she had two-way communication with headquarters. However, neither of those two measures would give her much protection if someone opened fire through the trio of floor-to-ceiling windows. For all practical purposes, she was on her own.
An obvious drawback to being early.
The sudden clicking sound sent her reaching for her gun, but Ino forced herself not to draw. She needed to stay in character. It was a good timing, too. Because the click was a door opening, and the gray-haired man who came in through the side entrance wasn't carrying a weapon but another bottle of champagne.
He immediately made eye contact and smiled, a slightly too-friendly smile, before he proceeded to the table with champagne.
"Asakawa Ino, right?" he asked.
"Yes," she simply replied.
Ino didn't have to ask his name. He was Yakushi Kabuto, age, twenty-nine. He was the office manager of the Perfect Match Agency.
He was also a prime murder suspect.
Of course, anyone associated with the agency was a suspect, but Kabuto was near the top of the list. According to his background check, he'd been hit with not one but two restraining orders for stalking his former girlfriends. The last incident had escalated into an assault.
"Im Yakushi Kabuto," he greeted. "I run things around here. In fact, I'm the one who processed your application." His face got a contemplative look for several seconds, then he snapped his fingers. "You're a dance instructor part time P.E. teacher on break for the summer, who likes action and adventure movies, sake and ramen."
He grinned as if pleased with himself for recalling that information. Ino didn't return the grin. If he actually memorized details about every client, it was a little unnerving. If he'd only memorized her details, then it went well past the unnerving stage.
"I remember because I kept thinking what a great match we'd be," he continued. "But unfortunately since I work here, I'm not allowed to pair up with any of the clients. Well, not officially anyway."
Good grief. As if he hadn't gotten his message across, he aimed another flirtatious grin in her direction.
"So, do a lot of people actually find their perfect match at these icebreaker?" she asked.
"Depends on your definition of perfect." He casually replied.
"A lifelong partner," Ino quickly offered.
"Ah, marriage." He shrugged. "Sure, it happens," But that was as far as he took the thread of conversation.
She pointed to the wall above the table. "You should put photos of the happy couples there. It'd be great publicity."
"I'll pass on your suggestion to my boss." He placed the bottle of champagne on the table, searched through the two dozen or so plastic-encased name tags and picked up one.
Hers, apparently.
He crossed the room and reached out as if to pin it on her jacket, just over her left breast, but Ino intervened and took it from him instead. So he was perhaps a groping pervert in addition to being a stalker and a killer.
What a pleasant guy.
His smile faded, probably because he wasn't happy with her insistence that she pin on her own name tag.
Kabuto tipped his head to the glossy gold-and-white Perfect Match folder she'd tucked beneath her arm. "So, did you see any immediate prospects on your list?"
"One. But it could be a coincidence." Since it was a time to do a little more stage setting, she pinned on her name tag and opened the folder. She pointed to Naruto's alias. "I dated a guy that name in high school."
Something darted through his ebony black eyes. Concern, maybe?
"Is that good or bad?"
"Definitely good. He's the one who got away, if you know what I mean." Ino said.
He made a sound of superficial agreement and quickly excused himself to leave when a man and a woman came in. Not Naruto. But from the already friendly chatter and the come-and-get-me smiles, these two had already decided that they were a good match.
Once the two newcomers had on their name tags, Ino whispered their identities so the tech back at the headquarters could begin background checks. In case something serious developed between them, she didn't want this couple to become the sniper's next targets.
"Asakawa Ino? I-is that really you??" she heard the now familiar voice say.
It's show time. She took a long breath, braced herself and turned toward him to start the charade.
Oh, mercy.
She obviously hadn't braced herself nearly enough.
At the wedding, she'd seen Naruto's GQ look, this time she was looking with his cool hot-guy look.
It worked.
Black perfectly tailored pants. A deep crimson red crewneck pullover that hugged his chest the way men's chest should be hugged. Well, men with great chests anyway.
Which he had.
The breeze coming in from the still-open door stirred his lightweight jacket. Also black. He'd likely worn it to conceal his .357 Magnum, but it made him look a little mysterious, confident. And dangerous.
Ino bet he'd never had to take a deep breath to steady himself. On the other hand, she required several more.
"N-Naruto? Namikaze Naruto?" she managed to say, when she remembered how to form words. Sheez, her throat actually clamped up. She added a stage giggle of excitement to unclamp it, "It is you. I-I cant believe this!"
As they'd discussed, Naruto and she went to each other immediately, and he pulled her into his arms. Yep, he was definitely carrying concealed, and there was a backup in the slide holster on the rear waist of his pants.
"You're early," he whispered.
"You're not," she countered, also in a whisper.
"I was busy. We might have a little problem."
Okay. Little didn't sound so bad. Little problems always arose during undercover missions.
"What – "
That's as far as Ino got.
Naruto brushed his mouth over hers. A friendly sort of gesture – which they'd also discussed should happen. In theory, such gesture was supposed to announce to the people at the agency that they were staking their personal claims on each other. Like his clothes, it worked. Ino heard the other couple and Yakushi Kabuto mention something about an apparent perfect match.
Ino also heard her heart pounding in her ears and felt her body turning soft and warm.
And she cursed herself.
Talk about being a hormonal wimp. Somehow, she had to make herself immune to any carnal-related reactions to Uzumaki Naruto, and she did that with a simple reminder that he was not only her boss but also the man investigating her friend and former teammate.
That immediately cooled off her body.
She pulled back, both literally and figuratively.
"Incoming six o'clock," Naruto whispered.
In other words, someone was approaching from directly behind her. While Naruto kept her firmly against him, she turned her head, already smiling, and came face-to-face with Hiruko Sasori, the owner of Perfect Match. And also, one of the suspects.
He seemed younger than Ino had expected, and she'd expected young. Sasori was barely twenty six but could have passed for a teenager. Well, except his coffee-brown eyes. There was something not so youthful about them.
Sasori wasn't alone. A broad-shouldered man came into the reception area with him and took position near the door. It was Ino's guess that he wasn't a client looking for love but was rather a bodyguard. Maybe this was the little problem Naruto mentioned.
"I smell success," Sasori greeted.
"Asakawa Ino, Namikaze Naruto," Sasori continued as he took several steps forward. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Welcome."
She felt Naruto 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.
Naruto extended his hand to Sasori. "Thanks. It looks like joining Perfect Match was the wise thing to do." He smiled lovingly at Ino before he slid his attention back at Sasori. "By the way, a friend of mine said he might be here tonight. Minamoto Daisuke. Have you seen him?"
Minamoto Daisuke? Ino had no idea what his was about. There was no one by that name associated with this case.
Sasori shook his head. "We're expecting a big crowd so you might want to check your friend's name tag is on the table."
Sasori's suggestion was just beginning, however, and not a prelude to a departure. Like a good host, he introduced them to the other couple. By the time he'd finished, more clients had started to trickle in.
Yakushi Kabuto 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.
"What about that little problem?" she asked Naruto the moment Sasori walked away. She looped her arm through his and leaned against him, snuggling, so she could speak as softly as possible.
"Someone's watching the place." He calmly answered.
Okay. Maybe it wasn't so little after all.
"Any idea who?" she continued.
"Yeah."
Again, no explanation since groping-boy, Yakushi Kabuto, 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.
Naruto remedied that. Smiling and whispering sweet nothings about how glad he was to see her again, he led Ino 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.
"Hisagi Karin," Naruto 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 the building."
Ino didn't have to ask who that was. Karin was a regular client at Perfect Match and a former acquaintance of Uchiha Sasuke, the murdered groom of her best friend Sakura. And that was a former acquaintance in a VERY bad way.
After Karin and Sasuke 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.
"No sign of her carrying an assault rifle, huh?" Ino asked, only partly joking.
"Not that I could see, but I've got two officers in a surveillance van watching her just in case." Naruto glanced over his shoulder and mumbled some profanity.
"Play along." He whispered to her.
And that was it. No other warning. No hint that he was about to launch into a full-contact charade.
Naruto pushed her against the wall and kissed her. He pressed his body against her. Snugly, until they were aligned like human puzzle parts.
Ino caught a glimpse of Sasori watching them from the reception room. So this was Naruto's version of a 'get-lost tactic'.
Naruto kept the mouth-to-mouth clinical. Well, as clinical as something like that could be, considering he had a rather hot kissing technique. No tongue involved. Just the right amount of pressure, glide and moisture to make Ino wish, at least temporarily, that he'd eventually use his tongue.
He didn't stop there. His kisses traveled from her mouth. To her cheek. To her ear.
Not good.
Ino bit off a moan of pleasure. It seemed trivial, considering everything else that was going on, but if these forced kissing sessions continued, she would need some ground rules so he could go easy on her erogenous zones.
"Any suspicious activity around the perimeter of the building?" Naruto murmured.
Not exactly the sensual question her body had expected to hear from the man kissing her, and it took a moment for Ino to realize that he wasn't talking to her, but speaking to the two officers through her communicator.
"Hisagi Karin's still watching the place," was the response they got.
Obviously unaware of the effect he was having on her, Naruto continued his inquiries while pretending to nibble on her earlobe.
"Tail her if she leaves." He commanded.
Normally, whispered orders wouldn't have been a turn on for her. But Naruto's warm, moist breath against her neck and ear. Damn. Not good. She didn't want to add any more hormones to this volatile mix.
Another glance at the reception area. No Hiruko Sasori in sight. At least their kissing session had sent him on his way.
"Sasori knew our names," Naruto informed her. "I wasn't wearing a name tag, and he never looked at yours, yet he knew who we were."
Ino went back through the events of that particular introduction and realized that it was true. She reprimanded herself for not noticing it, as well.
"SO… that's what Daisuke was all about?" she asked.
Not a real person but a test. Since Sasori suggested that Naruto look through the name tags, it meant he didn't know the names of all the guests. And unlike a few of the others, Naruto and she weren't repeat costumers. Nor had they met him when they filled out their applications.
So how had he known their names?
"This might not be such a little problem," Ino mumbled.
Naruto quickly agreed.
In fact, it could mean that the killer was already on to them.