Читать книгу Runaway Heiress - Jennifer Morey - Страница 10
ОглавлениеSitting on an uncomfortable hospital room chair with his legs outstretched, elbows on the armrests and fingers teepeed together, Jasper Roesch watched Sadie Moreno sleep. Rest in unconsciousness, more like. She’d gone through twelve hours of surgery and a day of intensive care before the doctors rolled her into a recovery room. She’d survive her gunshot wound, which had narrowly missed her heart.
The tall, slender Spanish-looking woman had long manicured nails. The nursing staff had put her ample head of jet-black hair up. Her Angelina Jolie lips were pale and dark circles shadowed the skin beneath her eyes. But even the signs of her close brush with death didn’t diminish her beauty.
Three knocks on the door brought him turning to see a well-dressed man with neatly trimmed and combed brown hair and nickel-gray eyes.
“Jasper Roesch from Dark Alley Investigations?” the man queried.
Jasper stood and faced the man. “That’s me. And you are?”
“Steven Truscott.” He stepped forward. “Sadie’s security officer.” After a brief shake of hands, the man looked over at Sadie. “She said she was going to hire one of you.”
“I figured she had a reason for showing up at DAI.” And that reason ended up shooting her. “How did you find out she was here?”
“The doctor called her home and her estate manager notified me.” Steven said. “Your agency called before the hospital. The estate manager passed the number on to me. Kadin Tandy said you were here watching over Sadie until I arrived.”
The founder of DAI had let Jasper know Sadie’s security officer would be coming to the hospital to explain a homeless man’s murder case. He’d thought it odd someone like that would show up rather than a family member.
“I was assured her safety would be your top priority,” Steven said. “I can’t be with her all the time.”
“Where did you come from?”
“Sadie runs an organization for the homeless. She has three facilities, one in New York, one in Dallas and headquarters in San Francisco. I work intermittently at her headquarters.”
“Her address is in Wyoming.”
“She works remotely.”
He did, too, if he only worked intermittently. Many people worked from their homes, but something about this didn’t add up. Sadie worked from her home but the one person who came to see her at the hospital is her head of security who works remotely as she did.
“She prefers reclusiveness,” Steven added, as though he felt he needed an excuse. Jasper would have questioned him further if he hadn’t turned a grave face to Sadie.
“I worried something like this would happen,” Steven said. “She’s been after the police to catch Bernie’s killer. I kept telling her to stay out of the investigation. A woman like her stands out in a crowd.”
Who wouldn’t be after police to catch the criminal who’d killed someone close to them? Bernie, he presumed, was one of her homeless men and the victim of murder that had brought her to DAI’s door.
“Is there a reason she should stay out of the investigation?” Did she just want to avoid the public? Jasper hadn’t heard of her so she couldn’t be so famous for that to be a threat.
“As I said, she prefers to remain reclusive.”
The more he talked with this man, the more suspicious he became. He questioned a lot of criminals, many of them experts at lying. Steven was no expert, at least not when it came to Sadie. Maybe her being shot had caught him off guard.
“Has anyone notified her family?” he asked.
“I’m the closest she has to family. Her father passed several years ago. She was his sole heir.” He eyed Jasper as though sharing a piece of gossip. “Holdings in an oil and refining corporation.” So, Sadie had inherited her wealth, but hid herself from the rest of civilization in Wyoming. Why?
“What about Bernie King?” Jasper asked. “Who is he to her?” For Sadie to hire DAI to investigate his murder meant she cared more than she might if Bernie was just another one of her homeless people.
“Bernie is a special friend.”
Movement from the hospital bed shifted Jasper’s concentration. Sadie began to open her eyes. He went to stand beside her, Steven going to the opposite side of the bed.
“Steven?”
“Yes, Sadie, I’m here.”
Steven took her hand and held it while Sadie groggily smiled up at him. “I thought you went home.”
“I did. But then someone from Dark Alley Investigations called and told me what happened.”
Steven had been here recently? Jasper wondered if that was how the shooters had found her. He also noticed she had no accent. She looked Spanish but she must have been raised in the United States. He hadn’t had time to dig into her background yet.
Sadie’s brow twitched in confusion. Memory must elude her after enduring the trauma she had. She slowly turned her head and soft chocolate-brown eyes fringed with thick dark lashes found him. Their clear, dramatic beauty struck him. The unexpectedness made him clamp down on the attraction. She stared at him for endless seconds, confusion going to recollection and then purely personal observation.
“This is Jasper Roesch,” Steven said. “The founder of DAI put him on Bernie’s case.”
“Oh.” She stared at him awhile longer and then her brow twitched again. “Where am I?” She looked around the room.
“You were shot outside Dark Alley Investigations,” Jasper said.
She stared at the ceiling awhile and then seemed to connect more dots. Driving up to DAI, getting out...
“I remember going there, but I don’t remember what happened after I got out of my car.”
“Someone drove by in a stolen car and shot at you,” Jasper said. “There were two, a driver and a passenger. They both wore hats and sunglasses.” Kadin had run the plates. The car had been found outside town.
“She was coming to see you about the murder of Bernie King,” Steven said to Jasper. “He was a homeless man going through Sadie’s reestablishment program at the Revive Center. There are no leads.”
Jasper nodded a couple of times. “I’ve got a call in to the lead investigator. I’ll meet with him and get all the details.”
“I saw you in front of Dark Alley Investigations,” Sadie said to Jasper.
“Yes. I saw you, too. You were a little hard to miss.” While he meant because of the men who’d shot at her, she was hard to miss for an entirely different reason. He wondered if he revealed too much about how seeing her had impacted him. A moment of awareness of the effect of that first sight passed between them.
Jasper shook off the distraction. “The doctor said you’d be released by the end of the week, but you’re going to need time to recover. I’ve got some security guards ready to accompany us to your house.”
“I don’t need security. I have my own.” She looked up at Steven with a soft, exhausted smile that revealed how much she valued the man, maybe as a family member but probably more as her head of security. She valued his protection.
Jasper began to have a lot of questions. Sadie had her own security, worked remotely and liked reclusiveness, although he didn’t quite believe that. Steven had seemed to throw that out for Jasper.
What were the two of them hiding?
“Don’t argue with the man, Sadie,” Steven said. “You said it—this about more than murder.”
“I’m only talking about getting us there safely. I’ll evaluate what you’ve got on your property and decide if it’s enough,” Jasper said. “How’s that?”
“Thank you,” Sadie said tiredly. “I don’t want to tell anyone they’re out of a job.”
He didn’t care where the security came from, as long as it was solid. If hers met DAI requirements, they’d be fine. And they’d spare DAI the resources.
Sadie’s head rolled to the side and she stared across the hospital room.
Steven put a reassuring hand on her arm, above the IV.
“Why would the killer come after me like that?” she asked. “I thought I was safe here.”
“Shh,” Steven said. “Get some rest.”
Jasper had to agree the killer going after her seemed extreme. And why would more than one? There had been two in that car.
Jasper refrained from asking why she had to be safe. He’d like to question Sadie without her esteemed security head in the room.
“We’ll discuss the case in detail once I’ve had a chance to review the file,” he said.
“I hope you have better luck than the San Francisco police,” Sadie said.
“If I relied on luck I wouldn’t be working for DAI,” Jasper said.
Her exhausted eyes found his and he felt her appreciation. “That’s nice to hear, Mr. Roesch. It’s upsetting to think Bernie’s murder will go unsolved. He was so dear to me.” Sadie paused, seeming to fall into thoughts of the dead man, who clearly was someone close to her. Did she get close to all of her homeless people or did only a few stand out?
“He had so much going for him,” she gave him a hint by saying. “Not every homeless person is as successful as he would have been. He was so close to starting a new life.”
And now whoever had killed him may have a reason to stop her from hiring an agency like DAI to investigate his murder.
“Who knew you were going to hire DAI services?” he asked.
“Just Steven. He talks to the police in San Francisco for me and comes to meet me occasionally.”
For her? “Do you mean he’s taken over keeping in contact with the police?”
“Yes.”
“That’s true now,” Steven interjected, “But at first Sadie badgered the police to work harder on his case.”
“And you think they didn’t like the badgering?” Why had she withdrawn from her badgering? Why hand that task over to Steven? Was it a rich woman thing or would the answer tell him more about her reclusiveness?
“No. We thought she’d be safer if she let me look into things.”
There was that hypersensitivity to safety again. He’d table that for a while. “Have you told anyone? Talked to anyone about the murder? Friends? Family?”
She stared at him as though thinking it an unusual question. “No.”
“You don’t talk to anyone other than Steven?” No one?
She looked up at the ceiling in thought and then back at him when something must have come to her. “I did tell my friends at The University Club. And my household staff all know.”
He’d check all of them out when he arrived at her house. “University Club? What is that?”
“It’s a women-only club in London,” Steven said. “She flies there almost every month.”
“What about closer to home?”
“I live in a very remote area near Jackson Hole. I do go to the golf club, but I’m not close to anyone there. I belong to an online social club and have gotten a little chatty with one of the other members.”
As wealthy as she was, he wasn’t surprised she belonged to elite groups, but an online social club sounded more mainstream.
“What kind of social club?”
“Dating. It’s a special interest group, not only for the purpose of dating. I meet people who like to hike, that sort of thing.”
“And you’ve met a man on this site?”
She nodded.
“Would that person have any reason to stop you from investigating Bernie’s murder?”
She breathed a laugh and then winced, digging her head back into the pillow in pain.
“Easy, Sadie.” Steven put his hand on her arm again, catching the edge of her hospital gown and moving it down her shoulder a fraction, revealing part of the bandage on her chest.
“No,” she said to Jasper. “I haven’t even met him yet.”
“Would he have any other reason to go after you?”
She rolled her head from side to side, a silent response.
“What about events? Dates? Anything like that?”
“I attend all of my fund-raiser events. That keeps me very busy.”
“Anyone come to mind at any of those who might be worth checking out?”
She thought awhile. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“We’ll look into that more later. Right now, you should get some rest like your friend here suggested. You have a long road ahead of you for recovery. We’ll head to your place as soon as you’re released.”
Sadie’s brow creased slightly. “We?”
“I’ll require a room close to where you sleep.” He wouldn’t negotiate this part. DAI had a strong policy on client safety.
“Where...what are you saying? You’re going home with me?”
“Somebody almost succeeded in killing you, Ms. Moreno. Long-distance comms aren’t going to work.” Something much more up close and personal was her only option. “That’s nonnegotiable.”
As her incredible eyes softened into acquiescence, he almost dreaded what would happen when she regained her strength.
* * *
Sadie lived in the Tetons, soaring rocky peaks and steep forested slopes her view from every window of her English fairy-tale home. Landscaping painted the property near the house. The manicured lawns and gardens would be spectacular in the warmer months ahead. A ten-foot stone fence looked to surround the estate and a heavy iron gate prevented entry until the guard on duty recognized Sadie and let them onto the property. So far so good. He liked what he saw. No one had followed them, either.
He drove Sadie’s Ferrari up the gravel driveway to a turning circle and gawked at the oolitic limestone mansion. He sat in the car and stared. With sash windows running the length of two stories and two turrets, he could have traveled through time to the old English countryside of Cotswold. Still transfixed with the Ferrari engine purring, he heard Sadie stir on the seat beside him. Weak as a kitten, the trip home had taxed her.
He climbed out from the low seat and went around to Sadie’s side. She’d managed to get the door open but now cringed in pain.
“Let me help you.” Jasper slipped his arms beneath her and alighted her from the car. She winced and put her forehead against his shoulder. He could imagine the kind of pain she was in.
As he approached the wood double doors, one of them opened and a man stepped out onto a stone porch that extended to the driveway with gardens surrounding it. Not a tall man, or large, he had a butler look to him with expressionless eyes, neatly combed-back thick brown hair and an unsmiling mouth. He wore tan slacks and a white dress shirt and had a radio clipped to his belt. He allowed Jasper to enter.
Inside, Jasper stepped onto a marble-floored entry with a waiting room off to one side.
“Right this way, Mr. Roesch,” the man said. “I’m the estate manager, Finley.”
No introductions necessary, Jasper mused. “Hello, Finley.”
They entered the main living area, a large walnut-paneled room partially open to the second floor. The coffered ceiling contained ornate insets and the trim held equal detail. A curvy ivory sofa and chairs around a large square cocktail ottoman brightened up the room.
“What kind of electronic security does she have here?” he asked as he followed the man up a turreted stone stairway worthy of a princess.
“The property is surrounded by a ten-foot stone fence topped with barbed wire, cameras and movement detection devices. A single guard is stationed in the gatehouse and several others stay in one of the guesthouses. There’s a small ops center there.”
Impressive, but...why?
“Don’t even think about making changes,” Sadie said against his shoulder and neck.
He chuckled. “I wasn’t...” Just the opposite.
“I don’t want intrusive security. This is my home. My sanctuary. It’s bad enough that the perimeter wall makes me feel like I’m in prison.”
Didn’t she think she already had intrusive security? “Noted.” He wouldn’t reveal his thoughts, not yet.
He took in the railing with a view of downstairs and then stepped into a wide arching stone hallway with nineteenth-century mirror, lantern-style lighting and floral crewel drapes. He passed a walnut-paneled library with vaulted ceiling and early evening light bringing out the colors of books. A Persian rug and old-fashioned seating were arranged before a fireplace. “Were you into castles and princesses as a kid?”
“What girl isn’t?” she asked sleepily. She’d taken a painkiller a couple of hours ago.
Finley entered a room at the end of the hall. Rose, soft green and cream colors hit the eye first. Then the rich detail came out. The bed looked French, probably hand carved, and a toile fabric chair and ottoman were angled before six sash windows. An etched glass closet door was open to reveal a large walk-in closet with organized walnut shelves and more seating.
Finley pulled back the soft, downy covers. Jasper laid her down and her arms stayed around him as their gazes met. He couldn’t look away and watched her eyes slide closed once, twice, three times, and then they didn’t open. It had to be one of the sweetest sights he’d ever experienced.
“Your quarters are across the hall from the miss,” Finley said. “Cook has prepared dinner. Where would you like it served?”
“Right in here.” Jasper went to one of the pretty chairs and sat.
“Excuse me?”
Noticing Finley’s alarm, he explained. “My first concern is for Sadie’s safety. Best if you tell everyone that’s nonnegotiable.” He nodded toward his charge. “She’s as vulnerable as she’ll ever be in this condition. I won’t take a single chance.” He adjusted his seat. “In fact, why don’t you bring a cot or something in here? I’ll be sensitive to her need of privacy.”
Finley seemed to smother a pleased smile. “Yes, sir.”
“Where did she find you?” Jasper asked before the estate manager could turn to leave.
“I had to take classes on how to manage property like this,” Finley said. “She sent our cook to culinary school.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Jasper said.
“No, sir, I didn’t. I’ll let the miss tell you.”
“Why does she have such robust security?” Jasper asked. He got that protection was necessary when you were as wealthy as Sadie, but her fence seemed overboard. Was there a reason or was she just paranoid? She did not strike him as the paranoid type.
“It’s remote country out here,” Finley said.
“How many guards?”
“Eight.”
Eight guards for a residential home. “I’d like to talk to the one in charge.”
“That’s Dwight Mitchel. Former Special Forces. Had a bit of financial trouble during his divorce. You wouldn’t know it but Sadie has more heart than most in this world. When most first meet her they might get the wrong impression.”
Jasper’s impression had been based on attraction. Her car would stamp her as rich. Is that what Finley meant?
“She likes her money but she spends most of it on her charities.” Finley looked up and around the no-expense-spared bedroom. “A first look at her doesn’t reveal much about her other than appearances, but inside she’s a well of humanity. You have to see her as she lives here to truly know her.”
Comparing the Sadie he’d seen step out of a Ferrari to the one he met in the hospital, he had to agree. She was more than a rich, beautiful woman to Jasper, and just how much had him putting himself in check. Not only would living so remotely bore him to death, the idea of domesticating gave him hives.
* * *
Sometime later, Sadie roused. Jasper heard her and came awake, something he’d learned to do long ago. She moaned in pain. He rose up from the cot Finley had provided along with some bedding. Going to the bedside table, he helped her sit up against several pillows. While she overcame a wave of agony, he took a pain pill from its container and handed that to her along with a bottle of water.
After she swallowed and sat with her eyes closed awhile, she blinked and met his. “What are you doing up?”
“Watching over you.”
At first a warm and content look drooped her eyes, but then she saw the cot. Her eyes opened more. “What is that?”
“I asked Finley to put it in here. I’m going to guard you until you can move around on your own.”
“That isn’t necessary. In fact, it’s...it’s improper and...presumptuous on your part!”
“I can see how you’d look at it that way. I can assure you my only motive is to protect you.” And get to the bottom of her mystery—which included far more than Bernie King’s murder.
“There’s plenty of other rooms. Go stay in one of them.”
“I will—when you’re better and not this defenseless.”
Her mouth opened and a few audible breaths stammered out. “Are you always this bullheaded?”
He grinned, a natural thing her petulant face and direct question brought on. “Yes. I have a reputation of solving cases faster than most. No one’s ever been harmed under my watch, either.”
“You’ve done this before?”
“Many times.”
“What are you? A detective or a bodyguard?”
“I was a cop and a detective before I joined DAI. I often stayed with family of victims until I caught the killer.”
She studied him thoughtfully. “That sounds unconventional.”
“It is, which is why I like working for Kadin Tandy.”
Her questions seemingly satisfied for now, she glanced down at herself, smoothing covers and patting the demure neckline of her nightgown. Then her hand stilled.
“How did I get into this?” she asked.
“One of your maids changed you. I waited outside the door. She said you woke but barely.”
She blinked once, and again. Then her gaze traveled down his body and back up to his face, noticing him differently than before, less combative, much warmer. Even under the influence of painkillers she seemed rested, and as long as she didn’t move, relatively pain free.
“Do you feel up to talking?” he asked.
“Sure. About what?”
He moved around the bed and went to the chairs, sitting down. “Why don’t we start with Bernie? Who was he to you and when is the last time you saw him?”
She rolled her head and looked up at the ceiling, obviously upset. “He’s what made me start the Revive Center. I met him on a trip to San Francisco, one of my few and far between getaways. He was sitting against a building, holding a cup and nodding off. He’d been drinking. A policeman approached him and tried to order him to leave.” She rolled her head to look at him. “Bernie chose an upscale spa to take his nap.” She smiled fondly and looked back up at the ceiling. “I intervened. I don’t know what made me. I took Bernie to my hotel, sat him down in the restaurant and gave him coffee and food. When the alcohol wore off, he told me his story. He lost his wife to cancer a few months ago, and then his daughter committed suicide, leaving him alone and facing a crisis he didn’t have enough strength to handle.”
Jasper let her have a few moments to her thoughts, feeling how deeply moved she’d been with Bernie. She showed him a glimpse of her true self, not the one hiding in Wyoming.
“On that particular trip I was scouting for a location for a business. I hadn’t decided what kind of business yet, I only knew I wanted to be involved in some kind of charity. Animal rescue. Health. I hadn’t thought of the homeless, but meeting Bernie made me realize how passionate I felt about them.” She looked at Jasper again. “People will shove the homeless aside before they’ll do anything to fix the problem. Where do people expect them to go? They wouldn’t be in the street if they had somewhere else to go. Bernie had nowhere to go. He made me want to do something.”
“Bernie stayed with you while you started the Revive Center?”
“I put him in rehab first. He had to quit drinking. Once he completed that, then I set him up in an apartment. He needed psychiatric care because of his losses. He did that pretty extensively for a few months. By then I had some space lined up and the apartment building under construction. I kept Bernie in his own apartment. We’d meet once a week so I could check on his progress. He slowly improved. We got to know each other very well.”
She drifted off and Jasper would love to know what her last sentence had made her remember. How much had she told Bernie? Maybe Bernie—other than Steven—was the only other living soul who really knew Sadie Moreno from a remote area of Wyoming who seemed to have carried at least some of her past with her to her new life, namely, the Ferrari.
“Why did you move to Wyoming?” he asked.
Her rumination on the past ended and Jasper watched her eyes grow guarded as she looked at him. “I wanted to get away from the life my father had.”
“What kind of life was that?”
“Rich.” She looked away.
“Why do you have such tight security here?” he asked.
“I like to feel safe.”
“Locking your doors doesn’t do that?”
After a few seconds she met his eyes across the distance between the bed and the seating area. “What are your plans for the investigation? What will you do to start?”
Okay, that was all he’d get out of her for now. “I have a message in to the lead investigator. I’ll talk to him first and ask for a copy of the file. Then I’ll spend a fair amount of time researching that.”
She nodded and then closed her eyes, the painkillers apparently taking effect.
Jasper stood. “I’ll let you get some rest. I won’t be far.” He put a small, round device with a green call button down on the table, within her reach. “Press that and I’ll be here.”
“What is this?”
“A pager.” He showed her the pager clipped to his belt.
Her eyes rose up to his and he felt her admiration along with her wryness. “A little over the top, isn’t it?”
“For your security?” He grinned with his teasing. “Maybe.”
She smiled slightly in return.
He left her, hoping he could get more information out of her security officer.
* * *
Dwight Mitchel met him in the drawing room, another princess caliber work of architecture and interior design. Incredible crown molding bordered a recessed white painted ceiling with a huge round and tan light fixture. Pretty, ivory diamond tufted back sofas and an armless settee with throw pillows in purple, green and orange surrounded an oval glass table on an irregularly striped area rug. Although more modern than other rooms in Sadie’s home, the decor still held a decided English flair.
The guard wore jeans, combat boots and a gun harness over a black henley and stood near a drinks trolley, holding a bottle of sparkling water. A big Colonel Miles Quaritch from Avatar, he even had a scar on his right temple.
Jasper went to him and shook his hand.
“We’ve heard all about you,” Dwight said with an unsmiling face.
“I’m not surprised.”
“How can I help you?” It wasn’t a cordial question. Jasper looked past this man’s impassiveness and saw distrust.
“I’d like you to walk me through your procedures. Roles and responsibilities, that sort of thing.”
“You don’t have to worry, Mr. Roesch. Sadie’s security is well covered.”
“I need to be familiar with your protocols so I know what everyone will do in the event of an emergency, that’s all. I have no issue with the security here. In fact, it seems rather excessive.”
The ex-military man didn’t falter. “We do regular patrols around the perimeter of the property. I can give you copies of the schedule. There are two guards posted in the mechanical room 24/7. We communicate via radio.” He tapped his ear where a clear coiled wire disappeared into his shirt. “One guard at the gate. Cameras have eyes on the gate and the property inside the fenced area.”
Jasper hadn’t expected to be disappointed with the level of security. He did, however, need everyone on the security team to trust him. Taking out his wallet, he removed a business card.
“In case something happens. I’d like to be informed.” He pointed to the radio. “Maybe you could get me one of those.”
Dwight eyed him, scrutinizing him as though sizing him up, the most body language he’d seen from the man so far. “Aren’t you a detective? You’re helping the miss solve Bernie’s murder case, isn’t that right?”
“That is. But since the attempt on her life, my role has expanded. At Dark Alley Investigations, we take the safety of our clients very seriously.”
“All good to know, Mr. Roesch, but we’ve got her safety taken care of. As long as she’s in this house, it’s my job to protect her, and I take that very seriously.”
He could see that Sadie was in good hands, but the lack of trust could pose a problem.
What was it about Sadie that instilled so much loyalty? Everyone called her the miss. And everyone was fiercely protective of her, especially of her past, it appeared. What was going on with that? And did he really want to know? He should be relieved that he wouldn’t have to worry about her security. He was here to solve a cold case, not satisfy curiosity over a woman. A beautiful woman. A stunning, warm, intriguing woman who stood apart from any other...
All the more reason to keep his distance. And his hands to himself.
“Why so much security?” Jasper asked.
“You’ll have to ask the miss.”
“I already did.” Jasper left it at that. Dwight didn’t seem like an ignorant man. He had to know Jasper was well aware that he and most likely everyone here protected Sadie against anyone learning about her past. And her past had nothing to do with Bernie King’s murder.
Or did it?
