Kitabı oku: «The Perfect Man», sayfa 3

Chapter 4

Chris wasn’t surprised to see the gold credit card and Florida driver’s license in Marc’s jacket. He’d bet that Marc’s other identification and credit cards were sewn into clothing and hanging in the closets of houses in Florida and Georgia. His older brother had learned to be careful. He would have had to be or else he would have made a mistake with one of the wives. Marc’s life had been a balancing act and he’d been a very good juggler.

Chris put the cards down on the table. He reached for another jacket from the box and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Renee pick up the license. She hadn’t believed that he’d find anything in Marc’s clothing if her shocked expression was any indication. He felt sorry for her and the other wives. Marc had snowed all of them. Chris slid his fingers along the shoulder of the jacket. The sleek silk-blend fabric felt cool and smooth to the touch. No lumps or budges disrupted the tailored lines. The best thing he could do for all of them would be to settle Marc’s estate and let them get on with their lives. But first, he had to figure out what happened to the necklace. He also had to figure out Renee. He shifted his position so that he could watch her without being obvious.

She studied the license as if it were a treasure map with the location of the necklace printed on it. She bit her bottom lip, which looked plump and lush like a ripe plum. He wondered if she tasted just as sweet.

Chris tightened his jaw and took his gaze from the tempting sight. Focus on the damn job, he told himself. He finished searching the jacket and laid it on top of the growing pile of clothing that had been searched.

“Did you have a flight to Florida listed at all?” she asked.

He picked up a shirt. “I don’t think so. Why?”

She turned the license toward him. “This was issued in March—a month before he died. How did he get to Florida?”

He scanned the card and found the issue date. “He could have driven or taken the bus.”

She shook her head. “Taking the bus doesn’t sound like Marc. He always booked first-class or business-class tickets for the plane. There’s not an equivalent for the bus.”

“Hmm.” He didn’t tell her that he’d learned Marc has taken the bus one-way from Charleston to Savannah. From Savannah, he’d taken a commercial flight to Birmingham. He’d tracked down that information from a credit card that none of the wives knew he had.

“I’d better make a note to check his card records for gas charges.” She walked to the cart with her laptop and began typing.

Chris continued his search of Marc’s clothing. If she was lucky, she might find the information, but Marc could have used cash. She probably wouldn’t find anything because cash rarely left a trail. He continued to search through Marc’s clothing until the box was empty. He glanced over his shoulder at Renee. She’d pulled one of the black mesh office chairs over the to cart and her fingers moved quickly across the keys of the laptop.

He got his knife and cut open the next box. With her distracted, he could search without interruption.

This box was smaller than the other. He pulled out packing paper and reached for the brown leather organizer and flipped it over. Marc’s name was printed on a small brass plate on the front. Why did Marc have a BlackBerry and this? Chris opened the organizer and began looking through the calendar. Marc’s handwriting was just as sloppy as he remembered. Every day in January Marc had written at least one notation. Some entries were easy to recognize, like meetings and presentations, but others weren’t. He turned the page to the next month and the next until he came to the month that Marc died. The entry made no sense to him. GMALNL-ALNYER. He’d have to look through Marc’s files later to check if he’d listed anyone with the last name of Nyer. He put the planner on the desk next to the credit card and license. He would take it with him to the hotel tonight where he could access more information on his computer.

Chris looked at the computer equipment scattered around the room. He wasn’t sure whether he could trust her network. Until he learned the exact extent of her computer’s abilities to spy on his activities, he would search through all of Marc’s things here then use the secure terminal from his hotel room to try to access the files on the external hard drive recovered from Marc’s plane.

He went through the rest of the items in the box, looking for anything useful, but came up empty-handed. “Is this everything?” he asked, folding the lid of the box closed.

“That’s all that was left,” she replied.

“Left.” Chris turned and grew silent. She’d put on a pair of black-rimmed Catwoman glasses and the staccato sound of her fingers hitting the keyboard drowned out the steady hum of computers. She should have looked ridiculous, but instead she looked bookish and sexy as she stared at the computer monitor. She was the last woman he should feel attracted to, but he couldn’t deny the gut-level desire he felt. He’d had enough of Marc’s hand-me-downs in his life. There was no way in hell he was going play second string to Marc’s widow. He’d do what he’d done all through childhood and ignore what he couldn’t have. “What do you mean?”

She looked up from the monitor and frowned. “Well.” She pushed the glasses onto the bridge of her nose. “Marc had other things, but he must have taken them with him on his last trip.”

“What things?”

“His briefcase, BlackBerry, the external hard drive I gave him for his birthday.”

“You gave him an external hard drive as a birthday present?”

“Yes. He was always losing his jump drives. I figured he’d have a hard time losing a hard drive.”

He’d never heard of a woman giving her husband a hard drive as a birthday present. What kind of relationship did they have? No. Their relationship didn’t matter. What mattered was finding that necklace. Chris walked to the desk where she’d placed his briefcase and pulled out a notepad and a pen. He made a list of the missing items. The briefcase, the BlackBerry and an external hard drive were found in the wreckage. “Did he have more than one?”

“No. It was bigger than the hard drive on his laptop and he used it for backup. Once I showed him how to use it.”

Chris put the notepad down. He didn’t see the need to tell her about the other external hard drive that was found in Marc’s plane. There was no telling how many more of Marc’s secrets were waiting to explode like land mines in an abandoned field.

“I’ll find out if there are any charges on the credit card and check out the driver’s license. In the meantime, I need to check to see if the information you have fills in the gaps in my timeline of Marc’s whereabouts.” He didn’t think he’d find new information, but he had to check.

“What can I do to help?”

“You can go through Marc’s bank records and credit cards. Make a list of any jewelry stores he used in the last six months and make a list of names or businesses you don’t recognize.”

“Why the ones I don’t recognize?”

“He would have had to deal with people or companies that you wouldn’t be involved in. He wouldn’t risk you finding out about the necklace.”

She gave him a brisk nod and began typing.

He raised his eyebrows. She was actually going to do what he asked? Not wanting to give her any reason to change her mind, Chris walked to the desk and opened the briefcase. He removed his laptop and turned it on. The timeline he’d created for Marc was riddled with gaps. His brother seemed to like to disappear for a few days and so far Chris had not been able to fill them.

It didn’t take him long to go through the information she’d found. Just as he’d suspected, he didn’t find anything new. Chris turned and looked at her.

Half a cookie sat on a plate beside her mouse pad. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the computer screen. She looked totally engrossed in her work.

“Did you find anything?” she asked without ever looking away from the screen.

Not so engrossed after all. “No. Did you?”

“I found two jewelry stores and three names I don’t recognize.”

“Are the stores local?

“Yes.”

“Good. I’ll head over later. I know you contacted the jewelry stores in the area to see if any of them had the necklace, but Marc might have spoken with someone about it.”

She stopped typing and gave him a hard look. “We’ll go there later.”

He leaned back in the chair. “We’ll head to the stores later. Are you looking at bank statements or credit card bills?”

Her expression brightened and she picked up the cookie. “Bank statements.” She took a bite.

He felt a zing of desire spread throughout his body. What was it about her that attracted him so much? There were more beautiful women in the world. He should know because he’d dated a few of them. None of them had made him feel this visceral desire. His gaze focused on her lips, lush and tempting.

Chris jerked back to face his laptop. He was going to have to get himself under control. She was off-limits to him and he knew how to walk away from things he wanted. He’d had a lifetime of experience.

“I’ll go through the credit cards.” His voice was rough. He took a sip of the sweet tea.

“I’ve got some of his credit card information here.” She wrinkled her nose. “I haven’t looked at the statements. I can e-mail you the files.”

There wasn’t a chance in hell that he was going to get on her Internet connection. He reached inside his briefcase and removed his jump drive. “Just put it on this.”

He rolled his chair the short distance to her desk and gave her the device. He ignored the slow burn of desire when their hands touched. He rolled his chair back to his desk.

He went to work on the credit card statements he’d retrieved a week ago. Marc hadn’t denied himself any luxury. He’d purchased several Hugo Boss suits, two Rolex watches and ordered three pairs of handmade Italian shoes. His spending habits were in sharp contrast to Renee’s. She bought books and a lot of them.

He turned to her. “Did you buy books for Marc?”

She looked up. “Yes, but he wasn’t much of a book reader. He liked magazines and newspapers.”

“There weren’t any books in the boxes.”

“No, they are in the library.”

“You gave the books to the library?”

“No, the library in the house.”

“I need to see the books.”

“Okay, hold on a second.” She made a few keystrokes before standing. “It’s right across the hall.”

He followed her out of the room and across the hall to a set of pocket doors. She pulled a latch and pushed the doors open. Each of the walls housed floor-to-ceiling bookcases filled with books. A wrought-iron rolling ladder rested in the far right corner of the room. An iron railing system connected the bookcases together. He hadn’t seen this many books outside of the library.

“Did you buy all of these books?”

“No. Aunt Gert gave me some of them, but I bought most of them.” She went to one of the bookcases to his left and kneeled on the hardwood floor.

As he walked farther into the room, he noticed the bookcases were built into the wall and gave an illusion of wall-to-wall bookcases. There were two large windows that let in the morning sunlight, which brought out the brownish tint to Renee’s hair. She began stacking books on the floor in a neat pile.

Chris bent down. “Are these all of them?” he asked.

“Oh, no. Those are just the business books. The fiction section is over there.” She pointed the opposite wall.

“You group your books?”

She looked at him over the top of her glasses. Her expression said, I know you didn’t just ask that stupid question. He bit back a smile. She reminded him of an insulted, slightly nerdy Tinkerbell.

“Yes. I group my books. It’s called cataloging. It’s what librarians do.”

“Sorry.” The smile he’d been holding back broke through. He found her smart mouth a funny juxtaposition to the geeky glasses and loose-fitting clothes she wore. “You’re the only librarian I know.”

She shook her head and began to rise from her kneeling position. He stood then took her arm and helped her to her feet. Her arm felt slender, delicate and warm.

“Thanks,” she said and stepped away from him.

He watched her walk quickly to the other side of the room. She’d gotten as far away from him without actually leaving the room. What was with that? He looked down at the stack of books she’d left on the floor and picked them up. He put the books on a small table. He looked at the title of the first book. It was a popular business title that he’d wanted to read. He flipped opened the book and scanned the first few pages before laying the book flat on the desk.

“Is this book new?” He flipped to the next page.

She turned around. “Which book?”

He held it up.

“No, I gave him that book about six months ago.”

Chris looked at the cover. It was pristine. It didn’t look like Marc even read it. He put the book on the desk and began flipping through each page.

“What are you looking for?” She put a large stack of paperback books on the desk.

“Anything Marc put inside. He would hide small things in his books when we were boys.”

“Oh. What kind of things? People are constantly leaving papers inside library books. I found a fifty-dollar bill inside a book.”

He raised a brow. “What did you do with the money?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Any money we find goes into lost and found. Most of the time, it isn’t claimed and the library deposits the money after a year.”

“Couldn’t you see who was the last person to check out the book?”

“No. Once something’s checked in, it’s taken off their record to protect their privacy and to keep from clogging up the computer system with old data.”

“You weren’t tempted to keep the money?” He turned another page in the book.

“No. It wasn’t my money.”

Was she serious? Marc would have pocketed the money without even thinking about it. He watched her thumb through the pages of one of the paperbacks. How in the world had his brother ended up married to her?

He removed the book jacket then put it back on when he found nothing and set that book aside.

“So what did he hide in his books?”

Chris reached for another hardback. “Money, papers, his report cards when he had bad grades.”

“How do you know this?”

“I was a typical younger brother wanting what my big brother had. I would go through his stuff when he wasn’t home.” He smiled at the horrified look on her face.

“That’s just wrong.” She frowned at him.

“No, it’s not. It’s what brothers and sisters do to each other. Marc did the same thing with my stuff all the time.”

“Why?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Curiosity or to get back at me for something I did to him.”

“That just doesn’t make any sense.” She picked up another book and flipped through the pages.

“I guess it wouldn’t make sense to an only child.” He turned a page. Between the pages lay a receipt. He picked it up. “Do you shop at H. Morgan and Sons Jewelers?”

“No, but that’s where I take Aunt Gert’s necklace to be cleaned.” She walked around the desk. “Did you find something?”

“This is a receipt for a diamond necklace he bought the month he died.” He tilted his head. “Do you know anything about it?” For a brief moment he saw a flash of hurt in her eyes. He knew the answer before she responded.

She shook her head and began rearranging the books on the table. “He didn’t buy it for me.”

This was a hell of a situation. “I’m sorry.” The words seemed pitiful and inadequate. He’d thought of her as a pain in the butt with her constant refusal to accept his offers to settle Marc’s estate. To him, it was just another bad situation his brother had dragged him into. He’d been sure she was being difficult to get back at Marc through him, but she looked really hurt.

She looked up. “Thank you.” Her voice was quiet.

“You’re welcome.” He picked up the last hardback book. He’d known Marc’s actions hurt the women he’d married, but it was another thing to see that hurt up close and personal. She couldn’t fake the kind of pain he’d seen on her face. He quickly searched the book and watched as she closed the covers of the last paperback. Something softened inside him. She was not only a victim of a crime; she’d been totally betrayed by Marc. This was yet another one of his lies. “Look. I don’t know why Marc acted the way he did. But you can’t let his actions continue to hurt you.”

She gave him a smile tinged with sadness. “It’s hard not to be hurt when your husband buys jewelry for another woman.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I know. There was something wrong with Marc, not you. You loved him, but I don’t think Marc knew how to love anybody.”

Her dark brown gaze met his. “I didn’t love Marc.”

He dropped his hand to his side. He couldn’t have heard her correctly.

The doorbell rang, interrupting his thoughts. She walked out of the room. He followed to the door of the library and watched as she opened the door. Standing on the other side were two little girls. They had the same facial features so he assumed the taller one was the older sister of the smaller girl who looked to be on the verge of tears.

“Hi, Miss Renee,” the older girl said and smiled, displaying a gap in her grin from a missing front tooth.

“Hello, Brandy, Brittany.”

The little girl muttered “hello” then quickly lowered her head.

“Brittany’s group in the community center is selling candy and she’s supposed to ask you if you’d like to buy some and I’m supposed to let her ask you herself and just stand here so she won’t be so scared. Go ahead, Brittany. Ask her.” She nudged Brittany forward.

Chris bit back a smile at the mile-a-minute spiel.

Renee bent down on her knee in front of a clearly reluctant girl. “Did you want to ask me something, Brittany?” she asked softly.

The girl nodded her head, looked up at Renee’s smiling face. A few seconds later, Brittany lifted a brochure an inch from Renee’s nose and said in a trembling, small voice, “Do you want to buy candy?”

Renee gently took the brochure from the girl and made a big show of looking it over.

“They got chocolate and caramel and peanut butter,” Brandy said.

“So I see,” Renee said. “I think I’ll have one of each, Brittany.” She turned over the brochure. “Am I supposed to put my name here?”

Brittany nodded and held out a pen. Renee took the pen and wrote on the back. “Wait here and let me get the money.” She straightened then walked across the hall to the office.

“See,” he heard Brandy say. “I told you Miss Renee was nice. She bought three boxes of candy so you don’t have to sell any more.”

Chris watched Renee come out the office. She carefully counted exact change into the little girl’s hand.

“Thank you, Miss Renee,” Brittany said and gave her a shy smile.

“You’re welcome,” she said and watched them for a few seconds, waved, then closed the door.

“Waving goodbye to the girls?” he asked when she walked into the library.

“No. I waved to their mother. She was waiting for them on the sidewalk.”

This place was more like Mayberry than he thought. When he was growing up, he didn’t see his mother until she came home from work and there was no extra money for activities that required selling candy.

“Did you buy three boxes of candy so Brittany could meet her goal?”

She looked at him in surprise. “How did you know?”

“I heard Brandy telling her that she was done. That was really nice.”

“It was no problem. They’re sweet little girls and I can give the candy to Aunt Gert and her friends.”

“You’re a generous woman, so why marry Marc? You did say you didn’t love him,” he restated, making sure that he hadn’t misunderstood her. He’d bet his badge that she wasn’t the kind of woman who married a man for his money. He’d met that type when he hung out with his friend, Will Johnson, and Renee Foster was the total opposite type.

“No. I didn’t love Marc. We didn’t marry for love.”

Part of him, the part buried deep inside him, gave a primal scream of joy. She hadn’t loved his brother and that knowledge filled him with a desire to claim her as his own. He quickly pushed the feeling aside. He knew better. He’d been burned more than once by wanting and never having. He frowned. “So why did you marry him?”

She looked down at the books on the table. “I wanted to have a family of my own and I thought he would learn to care for me.” She shook her head. “I should have known better.”

He wanted to take away her pain and tell her that everything would be all right. But he couldn’t. His brother had lied enough to her.

“It doesn’t matter now,” she continued. “All that matters is finding the necklace.”

He nodded. The sooner they found the necklace, the sooner he could forget the pain and hurt he’d seen in her eyes. The sooner he could bury the longing he felt when he was around her. He picked up the necklace receipt. “We’ll start here.”