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“Sure. Sure. Randall and I have gone out a few times. He’s a great guy. Why do you ask?”
“I heard from a friend that he’s big into investments. I don’t know if you remember or not, but when I turn twenty-five in January, I’m due a large bequest from my grandparent’s estate.” The safest way to keep this story straight is to tell the unvarnished truth.
“No, I didn’t remember that.”
“Anyway, I’ve been researching some ideas for investing my assets. Once I heard his name, I started researching his website to find out more about him. Everything I’ve learned is impressive.”
“I’m glad you called.” Her voice is full of excitement. “When I met him, it was right after my parents’ estate was settled. He presented his stock options and explained everything.” She giggles. “Not that I understood a word he was saying. The most important thing was that I didn’t have to do anything. I give him money, and more money starts rolling in. It happens every time.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea? Putting all of your assets in one place.” I twist in my chair, and my elbow knocks into a stack of files, causing my stapler to land with a thud in the trashcan. Shit. Anxiety crawls up my back like someone’s walking over a grave. I really don’t know her, but hearing someone say they’re putting all their eggs into one basket has me on edge.
Toby Garrett, the man assigned to the cubicle next to me, glares. After I cover the speaker part of the phone, I mouth, ‘Sorry.’
He nods and returns to his work. I gather the files into a neat pile and retrieve the wayward stapler to its rightful place.
“Yes, Randall makes things look so easy. You know me. I’ve never had a head for business. I know he can do a better job than I could on my own.”
“Has he pressured you?” I’m supposed to be investigating a robbery/theft ring–not worrying about a ‘sort of’ friend investing money. But everyone knows you should diversify your portfolio to keep from losing your shirt. Randall looks like he could lose millions and not blink an eye, but Patricia doesn’t have that large of a portfolio. Does she?
“Oh, no. He isn’t like that. He never pressures anyone.”
“Thank goodness. I hate when people try to manipulate me. Especially men who use bullying tactics to get what they want.”
“I know what you mean, but he’s nothing like that. He’s so sweet. He calls to remind me of important dates, holds doors open for me, and always shows an interest in what I’m doing. He’s the ultimate gentleman. Do you want me to tell him a little about you? Maybe you could meet sometime.”
This is the perfect opportunity to ensure the first of the players is at my father’s charity event. “That would be wonderful. Father and I had a huge falling out, so right now, I’m out of town, but I plan to be back for my mother’s benefit. Do you think the two of you could attend? I’ve met Randall before, but it was only in passing.” I hold my breath, lean forward in my chair, and rest my elbow on the desk.
Being introduced to Randall, rather than contacting him myself, would lead him to be less leery of my motives. Not being in my father’s clutches and with money to burn should be an opportunity to bring the big players out of the woodwork.
“I’m sorry to hear you’re fighting with your father. Having lost my parents, I know how important it is to put aside your differences.”
“You’re right.” I ignore the twinge of guilt over lying to her.
“I received an invitation. I’ll see if Randall can come and give him some background information about you. You’ll love him.”
After excusing myself from the telephone conversation, I gaze for several minutes at Randall’s image. Get busy. You’ve got to get the rest of the players on the hook and make things happen. In less than a week, you’ll be making the trip home. All that’s left to do is fill Mr. Truman in on the plans and make my reservations.
Patricia’s right–while I’m there, I need to work things out with my father.
Chapter Sixteen
Cade
I step off the elevator and study Lola. Her face is pinched as she jots down something in her planner and clicks through website pages. I’m too far away to see what she’s working on, but she appears to be in a groove. I’m still in shock that she hasn’t turned in her resignation and left town.
It’s been a few days since I’d walked, more like ran, out of her house, which was a chickenshit thing to do. We might not be destined to be together, but she deserves better than me avoiding her and cowering in the corner.
Hell, Truman trusts me to run his operation when he’s in the field. I should act like an adult and not dodge into supply closets when she comes down the hall. No one needs that many boxes of three-hole punches in their office.
Before Truman left, he’d asked if I was interested in participating in the extraction of an American diplomat who’s being held in Afghanistan. As I have every other time, I turned him down. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for that.
I haven’t been back in the field since my medical discharge from the Navy two years ago. I don’t trust I’ll make the right decisions in the heat of the moment. Because of my miscalculation, two of my team members, along with myself, were injured. It was supposed to be an easy in and an easy out, but it wasn’t.
Her computer screen is filled with the image of a distinguished, well-dressed man standing at the helm of a yacht. He’s wearing white shorts and an unfastened matching button-up shirt.
Business or pleasure? My jaw tightens. If this is the kind of guy who interests her, I don’t stand a chance. I don’t want to know who he is, but the words spill out of my mouth anyway. “Who’s the guy?”
She jumps and twists her chair in my direction, spinning around in a half-circle. “You startled me.” She turns back to the screen. “This is Randall Maitland. Mr. Truman has me looking into a string of thefts. Four individuals have been present at each of ten events in which jewels or other valuables were either stolen during the event, after the event, or from individual homes of attendees. Twice, jewels were robbed from the victims during the event, but no one saw anything. Our client is the insurance agency for eight of the thefts. Obviously, they’re getting a little upset that the perpetrators haven’t been caught and the merchandise retrieved.”
