Читать книгу The Perfect Man - Carla Fredd - Страница 9

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.