When All The Girls Have Gone(42)

"Nothing new there," Trey said.

"He wants to take your father's place, you know," Angela said casually.

"He hasn't got a chance."

Angela smiled, satisfied. "No, he doesn't, does he?"

Eventually he would sell Loring-Greenslade, Trey decided. He did not plan to follow in his father's footsteps and waste his life poring over sales graphs and charts in the executive suite. But for now the company gave him an excellent platform from which to control his destiny.

That was what he craved most of all, he thought; what he had always craved-total control and the power that accompanied it. Now, at long last, it was within his reach.

But first he had to find the evidence box and deal with the women who had complicated his life. Strategy was everything.

He glanced across the room. Charles still had his back to him.

Trey smiled to himself. You don't stand a chance, cousin. Grandma always liked me best.





CHAPTER 49




Max's phone rang, shattering the oddly companionable silence that had settled on Charlotte's living room. She looked up from her perch on the sofa where she had been making notes.

Max had been typing names into his computer. He stopped, picked up the phone and glanced at the screen.

"It's the Loring Police Department," he said.

He took the call.

"Cutler," he said.

He listened intently, frowning a little, and then he took his little notepad out of his pocket, picked up a pen and jotted down some notes.

"Right," he said. "I appreciate the update, Walsh. No, nothing concrete on this end. Yes, I'm still pursuing the investigation. I will. Yes. Thanks."

He ended the call and looked at Charlotte.

"Roxanne Briggs has disappeared," he said. "Walsh says he drove back up the mountain today to ask her a few more questions. She was gone. There were no signs of foul play. Evidently she packed up and left."

"She probably got nervous after her husband was killed. After all, she was married to him for decades. She must have known his secrets."

"I keep thinking about the issue of timing," Max said. "We're looking at a cascade of recent events that all seem to be connected to the attack on Jocelyn over a decade ago. It's as if a dam that had been holding back the past was suddenly breached."

"You think that some single event triggered the situation we're in now?"

"Yes. Whatever it was, it happened in the past few months. When we find it, we'll be able to see the complete pattern."

She looked down at her list. "You're right about the alumni records. There was no problem logging in under Jocelyn's ID. We're making progress but not very quickly."

"Time to call for backup," Max said.

She glanced up. "Who?"

"Anson is good at this kind of stuff."





CHAPTER 50




"You're sure you want me to handle this for you?" Reed Stephens closed the file that Max had placed on his desk. "You don't owe that family a damn thing."

Max had been distracting himself by leafing through the morning edition of the newspaper. He tossed the paper aside and got to his feet.

Reed's office was located in a downtown office tower. He specialized in business law. He was not one of the high-flying merger-and-acquisitions experts, but he had helped several local start-ups and small businesses get off the ground.

More to the point, Reed was well respected within the legal community. Max was counting on that reputation. Charlotte was right. Any halfway decent lawyer would be likely to pay attention to what Reed had to say.

"I can't think of any other way to get the information in that file in front of Davis Decatur," he said.

Reed nodded once, stood and went to stand in front of the window. "You dug up a lot of solid information on Simon Gatley. There's more than enough in that file to take to the feds. Why not start with them?"   





 

"You know how the feds work. If they actually opened a case, it would take them a couple of years to complete the investigation-assuming they ever did. Besides, they like big, headline-grabbing cases. Gatley has been smart enough to keep his operations under the radar. Sure, some investors have lost some money, and at some point in the future the whole Ponzi scheme will collapse. But taking him down at this point would not be a career-making move for a federal investigator."

Reed nodded. "You're right."

"Everything in that file can be verified by another investigator. I can't take it to Decatur myself. He'll assume I'm angling to find a way into the family, that I'm after a share of the Decatur money."

Reed turned around. "Davis Decatur will probably listen to his lawyer. He might even be convinced by what's in that file. But his daughter might not want to believe any of it. You know what they say about love being blind."

"In which case, there's nothing more I can do."

"All right. I'll find out who handles the Decatur family's personal legal interests and give him or her a call. But no guarantees that this will turn out the way you hope it will."

"Trust me, I'm well aware of that. Thanks, Reed."

Max headed for the door.

"By the way, I've got a job coming up," Reed said. "Corporate security. Are you available?"

"I'm a little busy at the moment."

"A word of advice, my friend. You're trying to build a business. You shouldn't be turning down the kind of work I'm offering. Corporate security is going to be your bread and butter."

"I'm a one-man company, Reed. You know that."

"Maybe it's time to think about expanding. And while we're on the subject, you also need to get yourself a full-time receptionist. If you don't have someone available to handle potential clients when they come through the door, you're going to crash and burn before you ever turn a serious profit."

"I know you're giving me good advice, Reed. It's just that right now I haven't got time to deal with the logistics of running a business."

"Make time. Soon."

"I'll do that."





CHAPTER 51




Madison Benson ordered another martini and checked her phone again. Maybe a text message had come in but she just hadn't heard it. Given the noise level in the crowded hotel bar, it was entirely possible.

There was no new message. She stared at the screen for a moment, trying to ignore the twisted mix of anger and jealousy that threatened to overwhelm her. All right. She was angry. She had a right to be angry. It looked like she was going to be stood up. But she must not allow herself to acknowledge the jealousy. Other women might succumb to that dangerous emotion, but she was not that weak. She was not jealous. She was furious. Big difference.

But they were supposed to be business partners, not just lovers.

How much longer was she going to give him? She had to draw a line and make it stick.

But she knew that it was unlikely that she would ever meet another man who was capable of arousing such passion in her. Everything about him excited her. He was strong-as strong as she was; willing to do what had to be done to achieve his objectives. He was charismatic and ruthless; her true mate. They came from very different backgrounds, but she was certain that, deep down, they understood each other. There was a bond between them.

She had grown up poor, the only child of a single mother who had been addicted to drugs and abusive men. One of the bastards had felt no compunction about raping his girlfriend's pretty, blond-haired daughter.

But she had overcome her past. She had learned very fast that her good looks and her intelligence gave her power. She had figured out how to use that power. She was a self-made woman who knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to go after it.

She had run a number of scams in the course of her career, but the strategy of targeting abusive men had proven particularly satisfying. Each time she and the other members of the club took down one of their targets she had remembered the bastard who had raped her. He had been dead for several years now. She had taken great pleasure in confronting him in the parking lot of a bar one night. She had made quite certain he knew who she was before she shot him dead.

She sipped the martini and pondered her options. She would give her lover twenty minutes, she concluded. Just long enough for her to finish her drink. If he did not show up by that time, she would leave. She would have no choice. She was just as strong and just as ruthless as he was. She would not allow him to treat her as anything less than his equal. She was not her mother.   





 

Thirty minutes later he walked into the bar. She was still sitting alone in the booth, having made up an endless series of excuses for not leaving at the twenty-minute mark.

She watched him make his way through the crowd. By the time he got to the booth, her pulse was skittering with anticipation.

"Sorry I'm late," Trey Greenslade said. "Got delayed at the old lady's birthday reception."

She kept her smile very cool. "I was just about to leave."

He sat down beside her.

"Good thing you didn't," he said. "It's been a hell of a day. I need a drink. I also need you. I need your help."

"What do you want from me?"

"I've got to get control of the situation before that damn investigator who's looking into Flint's death causes any more trouble. That means we've got to find a way to bring in Jocelyn Pruett. You said you might be able to do that."

"Maybe." She could negotiate, too. "What's in it for me?"