Page 17
After releasing a deep breath, she nodded. “Okay. I’ll go get my briefcase now.”
***
Locke glanced up from the documents he had been reading for the past few hours and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t feeling tired, just more than a little astounded. Just like he had discovered Karl wasn’t what he had thought him to be, neither was Nyla Roker.
She was the daughter of one of Tampa’s wealthiest men. Her family had come from old money, and she was the heir to it all. Now her family was trying to force her to choose: pick a life with an ex-convict or give up her inheritance.
It seemed to him that she was choosing love.
Another thing he had discovered was that Nyla Roker wasn’t a pampered and spoiled wealthy woman. With a master’s in finance, an MBA, and a degree in psychology, all by the age of thirty, she had been groomed to one day take over her family’s vast empire. Some thought she was smart as a whip. However, many began questioning her intelligence when she began dating Karl. Evidently, none was aware that she and Karl had legally built their own wealth and were sharing it with others.
Locke figured since Karl’s arrest had made news, a number of those people would be the first to tell Nyla Roker, ‘we told you so’. At least they would if they could reach her. They couldn’t. Wherever she had gone after Sheppard had relayed Karl’s message to her was somewhere only the two of them knew about, and she had blocked all calls. Not being able to reach their daughter, her parents had filed a missing persons report since she seemed to have vanished without a trace. He thought cutting contact with family and friends for a while was good for her, both mentally and physically.
Locke went still when he heard a sound. It wasn’t that he had forgotten that he was no longer alone in the huge house, but he had tried putting it out of his mind. Hollis had set up a temporary workstation on his dining room table, planning to move into the library when her desk was delivered this week. He hadn’t heard a peep out of her. Not the sound of shuffling papers, the clicking of her fingers on a keyboard, or footsteps on the wooden floor.
She had to have gotten up to stretch those long, gorgeous legs during the nearly four hours that she had been here. He checked his watch and saw it was almost five. Why hadn’t she gone to lunch? By most people’s schedules, it was now dinner time.
He frowned when he recalled what she had stated earlier. Namely that he wasn’t her type? He appreciated knowing that and didn’t care one iota that he wasn’t. But still…he couldn’t help wondering what type of man her type was. Of course he wouldn’t ask her, but he certainly had an idea. She would prefer a man who wouldn’t try to control her, lower her confidence, or not accept her as the alpha woman that she was.
Locke recognized all the alpha traits – take charge, independent, highly intelligent, and direct. However, she seemed to balance those traits by unapologetically embracing her feminine side. She looked damn good in pencil skirts and jackets. He bet when he saw her in a pantsuit it would still look sexy on her.
He glanced toward the entrance to his office when he heard a couple of soft knocks. Hollis was standing in the doorway, proving the point he had just mentally made. She looked just as fresh and beautiful as she had that morning. Not a single strand of hair out of place, not a wrinkle in that skirt, and her shirt and jacket added both a professional and sexy look.
He wouldn’t deny he was attracted to her, but her presence wouldn’t bother him, just like his presence wouldn’t bother her. They had addressed the rules. Besides, she wasn’t his type either.
“Yes, Hollis?”
“I’m leaving for home. Don’t expect me tomorrow. Karl’s statement you recorded gave me a number of leads, and I want to check them out. First up, is Elm Street.”
“You’re going to the Lemon Drop Café?” he asked.
“Yes. I want to canvass the block and check out several other businesses. Hopefully one might have a video camera with a wide aim that could pick up anyone coming or leaving that café. Although there were no video cameras in that café, I want to talk to the person who waited on his table that day to see if that person can identify the sketch we have of the men he met with.
He nodded. “That’s not a bad idea. I would think the police would have done so.”
She shrugged. “I’m certain they have and just haven’t shared it with us yet.”
He figured she was right. “You were born and raised here in Tampa, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’re familiar with the Rokers?”
“Of course. They are one of the wealthiest families in town.”
“Old money, I understand,” Locke said.
“Not as old as some. The family owned a lot of the property where Busch Gardens is now located. They got their wealth from selling the land for the theme park, which I understood was pretty substantial at the time. It established them as an elitist, wealthy family for life. When the grandparents and parents died, the son and daughter inherited it all. I believe there was a ten-year difference in their ages.”
She paused as she remembered. “The daughter attended a private boarding school in New York, went to college there, and subsequently got married and stayed there. I believe the guy she married was older, and they were only married a few years before he died of a heart attack. She never moved back to Tampa and only returns for visits.”
She paused again before saying. “The one thing I remember is that the Rokers are close-knit and sticklers for their privacy. Numerous charities make their philanthropy list, and as far as I know, they are good people who love their daughter. They just don’t approve of her relationship with Karl Halifax.”
Locke nodded. “And Nyla Roker gave it all up for love.”
Hollis shrugged. “Love makes you do foolish things at times.”
He wondered if she was being sarcastic or stating what she really believed. Deciding not to dwell on it, he then asked, “Besides visiting Elm Street, any more leads you’re checking out?”
