"It looks like the card cleared which means," Gwen handed the leather folio back to John while looking at BJ, "You're off the hook for kitchen duty."

"That's a shame." John grinned at BJ, "I was rather hoping to dump you off on someone else for the evening."

"But I'm your only company." BJ stuck out her tongue at John before heaving an overwrought sigh and looking over at Gwen. "Such as it is, I'm almost tempted to ask for dessert so I would have to pay for it in kitchen time."

"In a great hurry to do dishes?"

"Would you be doing them with me?" BJ winked at her and Gwen raised an eyebrow.

"No. But if it's time with me you want you don't have to resort to kitchen duty for that." Gwen scribbled something on a sheet of order paper and tore it off to hand to BJ, "I get off after midnight… If you're still up."

"I'll set an alarm." BJ tucked the paper away, smirking to herself with satisfaction. "I do have another question."

"Ask away." Gwen held her screen close to her chest.

"If I wash dishes, would I have a chance to meet the chef responsible for dinner tonight?" BJ fluttered her eyelashes in an attempt to look innocent as John's mouth dropped into a perceptible gape. "I'd like to give my compliments."

"Chefs only shout at the washers to not scour their pans the wrong way. And, before you ask," Gwen spoke before BJ's mouth finished opening, "They don't do table visits. It's considered gauche in this establishment."

"But if I really wanted to meet him… or her?"

"BJ –" John started to say but as BJ made a point of not looking at him, Gwen spoke up to stop him.

"In your case it's a she and she…" Gwen pursed her lips as she mulled over a thought and then took the small leather folio back from John. A second more had her holding up a finger to pause them. "Give me a moment."

As she left the table John rapped his knuckle on the table once to bring BJ's attention back to him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to thank the Chef for a wonderful meal."

"Don't lie to me." John leveled a finger at BJ, "I know that's not your motivation."

"It's not a lie."

"But it's not the whole truth either, is it?" John pursed his lips as BJ sucked in her lips and refused to answer. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes. "BJ, don't dance around the point. I know you're smart but I taught you the skills you're trying to use right now. I know you're omitting details on purpose."

"And?"

"And I want to know why you're so interested in meeting the Chef."

"Okay, that's fair." BJ moved in her chair to face her father, "My goal is to have us meet the Chef here and I'm hoping she will appreciate the way you enjoyed her food."

John shook his head, "Don't' do this."

"Why not?"

"Because she doesn't deserve to gawped at and fawned over. It's uncouth."

"I disagree."

"Do you?"

"Of course." BJ shrugged, "Who doesn't like being complimented? Or shown gratitude for a job well done?"

"This is unnecessary."

"Again, I disagree." BJ pointed at her father, "You said you enjoyed meeting her earlier today. Maybe she thought the same and she'll be touched that you enjoyed her food and her restaurant."

"You don't know it's the same Chef."

"If I called it wrong then we give the compliments anyway and it's no harm, no foul."

John shook his head, "This is a mistake."

"How so?"

"What if she thinks it's creepy."

"If she thought that, she wouldn't have given you her card and told you she was Chef here." BJ perked up and twisted toward Gwen as she came back to the table. "And?"

"Chef will see you in her office. If you'll follow me." Gwen ushered them to follow her through the dining room and back toward the hostess station. "It'll have to be short since she's a busy woman but I'm sure you'll respect her time."

"Perish any thoughts in any other direction." BJ stepped forward but John tugged BJ's arm to pull her back.

"On second thought, in trying to respect her time, it might be best if we don't meet with her." John gestured toward the door, "Our compliments all the same."

"Nonsense." Gwen waved him off and BJ used John's grip to bring him forward behind her. "She thought it was kind of someone to want to thank her for the effort on dinner and respected the stipulations to greeting her."

"A lot of idiots demanding she make a show to see her?"

"Usually finance idiots." Gwen rolled her eyes, "Or new money sods. They just want to show that people will jump when they demand it."

"My respect for this woman just rose." BJ grinned as they entered the office and John took a breath as Anna rounded her desk to shake his hand.

"What a pleasure to see you again so soon Mr. Bates."

"And you, Ms. Smith." John shook her hand and swallowed, "Sorry to put you through this. I'm sure you're insanely busy and this is an imposition on your valuable time."

"Not at all." Anna gave him a bright smile, "I'm actually between insanities at the moment so you caught me at a good time."

John returned her smile as Anna turned to BJ, "I'm sorry, I'm being rude. Anna Smith, Head Chef and proprietor of this establishment."

"BJ Pickering," BJ gave a firm shake, "Mr. Bates' business partner."

"You're a clothier as well?"

"Not that business partner." BJ dug out one of her cards and handed it over. "I work as private investigator for the consulting part of our business."

"Consultation?" Anna frowned and read the card. "About clothes?"

"Image." BJ jerked a thumb at John. "He's a big believer in clothes helping make the man but it's because he thinks they accent the man because the man is made through manners and refinement."

"A modern Henry Higgins?" Anna turned to John, "Are you in the business of making people respectable, Mr. Bates?"

"We try." John shuffled a moment, "But we came here to give our compliments about the food, not bore you with the details of our business."

"Not boring at all and I'm glad you enjoyed your meal." Anna leaned slightly to see Gwen, "Can you show me their order?"

"I feel like I'm about to be judged and I'm worried I'll be found wanting." BJ made a show of straightening her posture as Gwen passed over her tablet.

Anna read it quickly and pulled an impressed smile. "There is certainly taste and refinement in your palate Mr. Bates. I do have to wonder about the peanut butter and jelly sandwich your business partner ordered."

John laughed with Anna's joke as BJ pulled a face. "Ha, ha."

"In all seriousness, it would appear you have an appreciation for fine food the way you do for fine clothes." Anna handed Gwen back her tablet. "And it would be my pleasure to host you both again as soon as you find it convenient."

"We'd be honored." John barely spared a glance in BJ's direction in his rush to answer but a moment later he wished he had more to say when she spoke.

"Would you be joining us for dinner, Ms. Smith?"

Anna's smile quirked for a moment at the offer, as if flattered and embarrassed by it in equal measure. "It would be inappropriate for me to eat in my own restaurant while those who work here are serving. So I am grateful for the offer but it is one that only goes in one direction."

"What a shame." BJ slapped the back of her hand to John's chest less than a second later. "What about that place in Mayfair? The one… What is it? Lady Mary's new place that your friend Robert keeps begging you to try?"

"No." John went to say but Gwen hurried to speak up.

"The Urchin Lord." She feigned innocence when both John and Anna cast their daggers at BJ and Gwen. "I've heard it's highly rated."

"And it would be an opportunity to spread some of the gratitude around given how kind the Crawleys have been to us." BJ shrugged and clapped her hands together. "It's almost a necessity that you go."

"And Lady Mary has been hoping you'd grace it with your presence." Gwen nodded at Anna, "It seems as good an opportunity as any given that you wouldn't have to go alone."

John and Anna glanced at one another a moment and, in John's heart of hearts, he hoped the moment of pause in Anna's expression was due to her hoping he would say 'yes' and not because she dreaded it. He cleared his throat and extended a hand, "If you… If you'd be interested in that, Ms. Smith, I'd be honored to accompany you to Lady Mary's new venture. I've heard it's good and I do owe it to Robert to support the family."

"She has been asking me to and I've been putting it off because I didn't want to go alone." Anna took a swift breath and nodded, "Alright, let's do it."

"Excellent." BJ grinned, "Kismet, as it were."

"But I do still insist that you both come back and eat here again, as my guests." Anna motioned to Gwen, "We do have a new menu I'm considering rolling out and it would be nice to get some perspective from someone who know what they're looking for in fine dining and in refined experience."

"It would be my pleasure." John pulled out a card of his own. "So you have my number. Let me know the date that works best for you."

"I will." Anna took his card. "But you'll have to allow me to make the reservation."

"Do I?"

"Yes. That's how we'll get a table." Anna shrugged and grinned, "That's my reward for being an requested guest of Lady Mary."

"The struggles we endure." BJ patted her father's shoulder, "I've got work to do but if you need to stay then-"

"No." Anna shook her head and then took BJ's hand. "I also need to get back to work but it was a pleasure to meet you BJ, and good to see you again Mr. Bates."

"Likewise." John gave a firm shake but risked letting his hand linger a second longer than BJ's had. Anna did not pull away or release until he signaled and he forced himself to swallow and step back. "I'll wait for your call."

"I won't forget." Anna held up the two cards as Gwen guided John and BJ back toward the hostess station and the door.

"Thank you again." BJ stuck out a hand to Gwen, "And I'm serious about the alarm."

"Good. I wasn't kidding about getting off at midnight." Gwen shook John's hand as well, "Lovely to meet you Mr. Bates."

"And you Gwen." John paused as Gwen went to turn away. "Do you always play her wingman or was this a special instance?"

"I'm there for her day or night, Mr. Bates." Gwen straightened and snapped a play salute. "Whatever she needs, I try to provide."

"Good to know." John nodded at her and bumped BJ out onto the curb. "And you, miss, need to watch yourself."

"Me?" BJ put a hand dramatically to her chest. "What could I possibly have done?"

"Don't think I didn't notice that between getting our server's number you also succeeded in arranging the most obvious set-up for Ms. Smith and I."

"I wasn't trying to hide anything." BJ moved them up the cab queue. "Besides, she seems absolutely lovely and you were smitten."

"Smitten?"

"Yes."

"Smitten?"

"Yes, again." BJ slid into the cab and offered up the address to their office before turning to John. "She way too."

"Was she?"

"Yes." BJ paused and John leaned away from her narrowed eyes.

"What?"

"Just wondering how a man who is so good at reading people to diagnose what they could do to mend themselves can't read expressions or actions on a woman who's body language was sending all the signals for attraction."

"She… It…" John huffed, "She could just be polite."

"People being polite don't, without invitation, immediately say it's a pleasant surprise to see someone again."

"She didn't say that."

"She literally said, 'it's a pleasure to see you again so soon Mr. Bates'… Without prompting and before we'd said anything at all." BJ shrugged, "That read as interest to me."

"I…"

"She must be interested sir." Both BJ and John jumped as the cabbie turned slightly to see them over the seat at the red light. "There's no other way to read that."

"Thank you." John frowned and then shook his head. "Be that as it may, it's in her hands now so we'll know."

"Yes we will." BJ pulled out her phone and flicked through messages and emails. "Ah, I was right."

"About?"

'The case." BJ tucked her phone away again. "They found the little boy and got him home safely."

"That's good news." John bit at his lip, "What happens to the woman who took him?"

"I hope some ambitious solicitor doesn't try to throw the book at her and she gets the help she needs." BJ frowned and pulled out her phone again. John watched her frown deepen as she typed back a message and then ease slightly when she tucked the phone away again.

"What?"

"What?" BJ blinked at him and John pointed with a nod toward her phone.

"Something had you looking very focused and concerned."

"It's… It's for work."

"Well if it's-"

"My work." BJ patted her pocket. "Sorry. Client privilege."

"Respect." John leaned back in his seat. "What do you have at the office?"

"Starting work for our next case." BJ groused, "I hate the starting grunt work."

"It's the legwork that gives us a leg up."

"I know." BJ leaned into him, "I can still hate it though."

"Yes, you can." John nudged her with his shoulder before kissing the top of her head. "But you're good at it and the hard work is good for us."

"And the business." BJ, nudged him, "Have I told you how lucky I am you're my dad?"

"Not often enough."

Pickering adjusted the strap on her shoulder and knocked on the glass of the front doors. One of the cleaners, mopping the floor, started at the sound and turned almost fast enough to slip on the slick floor. Pickering grimaced on his behalf and then pointed to the door. The cleaner frowned and then pointed at the restaurant hours, printed on the door glass. Pickering nodded, making a conciliatory gesture, and then pointed to the lock on the door again.

As the man shook his head again, Pickering pulled out her phone and dialed a number. The phone on the hostess desk rang and the cleaner looked from it to Pickering at the door and then back to the phone before picking it up. "Hello?"

"Hi, yes, I've an appointment with Anna Smith, the owner here, and she said to come to the front and someone would let me in." Pickering pointed at the door. "I hope that's not inconvenient."

"I don't… I don't have the keys." The man shrugged and then looked over his shoulder. "Hold on. Give me a moment."

He hung up and Pickering ended the call on her end, waiting for a moment as the cleaner left her view and then returned with one of the kitchen staff, dressed in a deep navy uniform with a crisp white apron. He wiped at his hands and then came right up to the glass to speak, in a muffled voice, at Pickering.

"What's all this then?"

"I've got an appointment to meet with Anna Smith in her office. She wanted me to come here." Pickering pointed over the tall man's shoulder, "Is she in her office?"

"You could call her yourself and find out."

"I tried, six times, but I think she's on the phone because it's a busy-" Pickering cut off as the door opened from under her arm and she blinked in surprise as Gwen winked at her before pushing into the restaurant from the street side.

"Could've just phoned me." She gave another wink before patted the chef's chest. "I've got this Alfie. Go back to prep so Patmore doesn't give you too much guff."

"Sure thing Gwen." Alfie eyed Pickering before going back into the kitchen and both Gwen and Pickering picked their way carefully through the cleaner's sparkling floor to go into the back hallway toward Anna's office.

"I would've called you but I didn't want to seem presumptuous."

"After last night you can presume whatever you want." Gwen grinned at Pickering and then knocked on Anna's door. "Anna? I've got that woman from last night here."

"Thanks Gwen, send her in."

Gwen dramatically opened the door for Pickering and stepped aside. "Next time we should bring friends. I've got this guy that wouldn't mind a little something."

"Funny, I think I've got one of those too." Pickering allowed herself a smile before entering Anna's office and waiting until Gwen closed the door behind her before turning to Anna and extending a hand. "Good to see you again Ms. Smith, even if it is sooner than I would've expected."

"And what were you expecting?"

"Well, given what I do, I was hoping you'd one day come to me for research on my father but you haven't even had a first date yet so I'm-"

"This isn't about Mr. Bates."

Pickering frowned, "Your test said-"

"I do need your expertise but I need this expertise." Anna held up the card with 'Private Investigator' written on it. "If that's an option."

"Of course." Pickering paused, "This isn't a quid pro quo scenario, is it?"

"Absolutely unrelated."

"Good. I wouldn't want any wires crossed here." Pickering pointed at a chair in front of Anna's desk. "May I?"

"Please."

They sat and Pickering pulled out an analog recorder and a notepad. She held up the former, "Permission to record? It's analog so the only way to copy this is manually and most places that make this retro stuff don't exist anymore."

"If it helps you do your job, please do."

"It'll make sure I don't get your words wrong." Pickering started it, "Alright Ms. Smith, how can I help you?"

"I think I'm being stalked."

Pickering paused, narrowing her eyes. "To be clear, you're not worried that my father, John Bates, is stalking you right?"

"Oh, no, absolutely not." Anna shook her head and Pickering let out a small breath. "It's… I think it's someone else."

"You think you know who it is?"

"Yes." Anna took a breath, "His name is Alex Green."

"And what interest would Mr. Green have in you?"

"He…" Anna stopped, licked her lips, swallowed, and tried to start again, "We…"

"Ms. Smith," Pickering cleared her throat, "You can be honest with me. Whatever you stay is between you, me, my notes, and this recording."

Anna nodded but only swallowed again. Pickering offered her a smile. "I promise that I won't judge whatever you tell me. In my profession I have seen a range of behaviors and actions that led to unfortunate circumstances. Some of those things were in the control of the victims and others weren't. More to the point, whatever is going on here, if this man is stalking you, is not your fault and there's nothing you can tell me that would convince me otherwise."

Pickering adjusted in her seat, "So, why would Mr. Green be interested in you enough to spend time stalking you?"

"We trained at school together." Anna chewed the inside of her cheek. "And we had a few… I feel like 'dates' is too strong a word but I don't have one better. Towards the end of the course he made a pass at me and-"

"To clarify," Pickering paused her pen, "when you say 'pass' do you mean he made a causal request for a more serious, intentioned interaction or he tried to physically instigate something?"

"Does it matter?"

"It would speak to what he believes he wants now."

Anna pushed back in her chair a bit and crossed her arms over her chest. Except, to Pickering, it appeared more like Anna trying to hug herself without making it obvious. "It started as a casual request and when I rebuffed him he… He tried to kiss me."

"Okay." Pickering schooled her expression, "And that was it?"

Anna nodded, "I got out of the kitchen as fast as I could and I made an excuse to the instructors as to why I needed to switch to another course. They liked me and so they amended my schedule so I could complete the course faster and I got out of there."

"And you haven't seen him since?"

"Not actively." Anna shifted in her chair, her arms loosening slightly. "In our profession you hear about the success stories more often than you see them. It's not an isolated business but the level where we're hearing about one another is usually through others that come to our restaurants or the reviews or the stories… It's more word-of-mouth than anything else. We're not big on conventions and it's awkward at our level for competitions because it usually backfires."

"I've heard it works like that for make-up artists too." Pickering shrugged at Anna's raised eyebrow. "Apparently you make a name by being word-of-mouth and not by being on a competition show in that industry. Who knew?"

"I do, now." Anna took a breath and relaxed a bit more in her chair. "I did my advanced training on a recommendation for a place in northern Italy. It was a one-star Michelin place and then I bounced to another one-star in Germany about two years later. I got a big break at a two-star in France and then toured on a cruise ship after three years of France almost drove me mad."

"And now you're here." Pickering motioned around her. "That's a pretty big deal."

"It is." Anna's posture tightened, "But it's also how he… It's how he knew I was back in the country. It's how it all started."

"How'd you mean?"

"I got the start-up cash for this place through a loan, from the Crawley family."

"Generous bunch." Pickering frowned, "Isn't Lady Mary opening her own place?"

"She likes to diversify her efforts." Anna shook her head, "But a few weeks after we opened, I noticed him in the dining room. He asked the waiter about the chef but I refused the meeting. He… didn't take it well."

"Left in a huff?"

"Yes but not in a way that would end up in a viral video." Anna shook her head, "Since then I've noticed he books at the earliest or the latest times, as if he'll see me coming in or leaving. Or he's walking past the place multiple times a day. Or…"

Anna's breath caught and stuttered as if she needed to fight down a racing heartbeat. "I think I've seen him outside the window of my flat. And there've been days I came back and it… It was like someone had been inside."

"Not a building manager or a handyman I'm guessing?" Anna shook her head and Pickering leaned forward. "What tipped you to the idea of someone being in the flat?"

"Small things. Like the lid on my toothpaste being loose or a book on the wrong part of a shelf or my shoes being rearranged next to the door." Anna shivered. "I can't tell if I'm going made and I forgot I moved any of those things or if it's that someone's trying to gaslight me or if they're looking for something and they think they'll get it out of my flat. I… I just… I don't know."

"Well we're going to find out together aren't we?" Pickering made a note and then set her pad aside. "What we're going to do has a few steps."

"Okay."

"First, I need you to recognize that there are no good answers to any of this. The situation is absolutely buggered and there's no two ways about that." Pickering offered a conciliatory smile, "Second, the best result we can hope for it a restraining order but I think you and I both know that's shit and you've a better chance of being arrested for a non-crime hate incident than he does of going to jail before something bad happens."

"Then what do I do?"

"First, we get you better security around this place and your apartment." Pickering made a note. "Then we get you something, for every room of your house and your office, that you can use to defend yourself."

"I don't really-" Anna shifted in her chair, "I don't like guns."

"Good because that's illegal here and I'm not going to jail." Pickering winked, "I know my being American can give people the impression I'm all about the firearm but I do also believe in obeying the law."

"Then what do I use?"

"Knives in the kitchen would be my guess." Pickering leaned back in her chair, "I'd recommend something seemingly innocuous but that you can grab quickly in any room. A cricket bat in the living room or near the front door. A police baton or something kind of striking implement for near your bed. Scissors in a study or the bathroom. Things like that. Striking, slashing, bludgeoning, and piercing are as effective as blowing a hole in someone if all you need to do is incapacitate someone trying to harm you."

"Okay." Anna made a few notes of her own. "And then what?"

"And then you 'hire' me to tail you."

"How would that work?"

"I'll follow you around. I'll get a feel of the layout and organization of your restaurant, your flat, the places you visit, the ways you have unconsciously built a routine someone else can exploit. Then I'll know if anyone else has picked up on those things and see where someone could be laying in wait for you." Pickering grimaced, "I'll also need to have access to all those places. I need to know what's there, who's there, and that way I'll know if something's been shifted or moved. We'll keep track of everything, and I do mean everything, so we can find where someone's been tampering."

"That's a lot."

"It gets… It keeps going." Pickering took a breath, "I'll spend a week fully shadowing you. You'll see me the first few days as you follow your normal schedule so I get a feel for how you operate and where anyone might slip through. Then I'll sink into the background and we'll work against one another."

"How's that?"

"I'll move like I'm stalking you and you'll have to find me." Pickering lifted a shoulder, "A bit of 'Where's Waldo'."

"Creepy."

"Critical."

"How's that?"

"Because you need to be aware. I need you to track, however you want, each time you feel the prickle at the back of your neck or catch me out of the corner of your eye. I need to know when you think you're seeing someone so I know where someone else might get seen."

"Then what?"

"Then I vanish further. I melt into the background and I stalk your stalker." Pickering made a face, "With any luck we find the evidence we need to get police to believe you're not hysterical, delusional, or trying to get attention so they trust there's a real threat that needs handled.."

"And what are the actual odds of that?"

"Not great." Pickering shook her head, "Most of the time they can't be assed to do anything and the little they tend to do before there's physical threat is a warning. That usually only pisses people off but the police argue they can't do more than that."

"So it's up to me to protect myself?"

"Don't you love your tax dollars at work?" Pickering shook herself, as if the sarcasm would leave. "Sorry, that was unprofessional."

"No need to stand on ceremony." Anna offered her a smile and then let out a breath. "On the likely chance the police do nothing with what you give them, then what?"

"Then I pay a visit to Mr. Green, or whoever your stalker is, and he learned what an American baseball bat feels like. Or a cricket bat. I'm not fussy about whichever one will suffice to break a shin or a knee cap." Pickering only smiled a little at Anna's expression. "If the police won't step in to do anything then I believe it's the right of the woman to defend herself. I'll teach you how if you want."

"I'm not sure I'm up for instigating the violence myself. Defending myself, sure, but I…" Anna shook herself, "It's not my nature to ruin someone."

"Then you're a better woman than me. I'm all about getting the other guy before he gets me." Pickering leaned forward, putting her elbows on the desk. "Part of the reason he's getting away with any of this, or thinks he'll get away with it, is because dickheads like this are bullies. They charm their way in and out of things and when that doesn't work they intimidate, threaten, and coerce. They isolate and gaslight to keep people in question of their own reality and then find ways to hurt others where most can't see it. They seek out those they think are weaker than them, that won't fight back, and take pleasure in the power they think they have from it. They bask in terror and silence from their victims."

Anna held Pickering's gaze but did not move, what little color was in her face draining away. Pickering risked standing to lean over the desk and put a hand over Anna's. "We're not going let him get away with trying to do that to you."

"No?" Anna's voice fought to stay even but Pickering heard the waver.

"No." She set her jaw, "There won't be any shadows left for him when I'm finished with beating that bugger's ass."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die." Pickering stood, collected her notepad, pen, and recorder as she flipped it off. "I tend to find pretty big flashlights. They work to cast light in darkness and can bash a bitch over the head pretty well."

"I would prefer this doesn't end in violence."

"Me too." Pickering winked at Anna, "I hate trying to get blood out of leather."

She was almost to the door when Anna called out, "Ms. Pickering, I do hope this remains between us."

"Client privilege, Ms. Smith," Pickering gave her a salute, "No one knows but us."

"Thank you."

"See you tomorrow Ms. Smith."