Dont look down, p.22
Don't Look Down, page 22
“Between you and me, you still do it, don’t you?” he asked abruptly. “Steal things.”
For a brief second Sam wondered whether he was doing some investigating of his own. Did he think she’d killed Kunz? That would make him totally innocent, though, and she didn’t believe that in any of her deeply suspicious bones. More likely he was hunting for a potential scapegoat in case something should go wrong. In that case, he was looking at the wrong girl. “Not for a long time. It’s not good for my health.”
He nodded, throttling down. “I get that, too. Busted my leg in three places my last time in Vail. Good thing there’re other ways to get the rush.” Daniel sniffed, pinching his nose.
Great. It could be a motive for the robbery, though. Samantha forced a laugh. “That’s what I hear, but I think stealing’s easier on the wallet.” She looked at the shoreline. “Pretty. Where are we?”
“My private lunch and recreation spot.”
“Mm-hm. Do you and Patricia come here?”
Daniel ran a strand of her windblown hair through his fingers. “I’m here with you.”
She allowed the caress, but figured that it gave her a little more room to push. “Maybe I’m getting too personal, but your dad was killed during a robbery. I expected you wouldn’t be that thrilled with taking a thief, former or not, to lunch.”
“This is about attraction, not my dad,” he returned, using both hands to play with her hair now.
He leaned in and kissed her. She allowed that, too. “Hey, I thought you were being a gentleman today,” she said, pushing him slowly away. It took more control than she expected to make the gesture seem reluctant. Pretty face or not, he made her skin crawl. Rick said she had her own sense of honor, unconventional or not, and Daniel was treading all over it.
“What about attraction? I know you feel it.”
“Maybe I do.” Sam gave him an assessing look. “But honestly, Daniel, I need more than a boat ride to convince me that you can do more for me than Rick Addison can.”
“Man, you’re mercenary,” he said, laughing again.
She could say the same thing about him, though she kept her commentary to herself. Considering that he’d attended a funeral day before yesterday, he seemed in quite the good mood, in fact—as if he thought he’d gotten away with murder or something. Had easygoing Daniel done it, though, or had he hired somebody? She would love to know whether he’d rented a BMW. “I’m just practical.”
“Fair enough.”
He released the anchor into the water and shut off the engine. The absolute lack of concern with which he viewed her presence, considering she could easily have been involved in his father’s demise, actually shook her a little. It wasn’t exactly an admission of guilt on his part, but if he was already that sure she hadn’t done it, it was because he knew who had. Sliding down the short ladder, he picked up the picnic basket and set it on the small, built-in table on deck.
“Hungry?”
“Sure. What’ve you got?”
“It’s a little early for lunch, so I had the cook pack mostly fruit and bread and cheese. And a bottle of wine, in case it’s not too early for that.”
“My goodness,” she drawled, joining him, “someone might almost think you’re trying to impress me.”
“You’re already impressed, or you wouldn’t be here. Patricia calls you the American mutt, but I figure you’ve got more sophistication than most women I know.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“No, really. Patricia wouldn’t know a piece of art from a piece of toast. She knows fashion, but that’s about as deep as it gets.”
“And you like deep?”
“I like that you’re deep.” Daniel set out a plate with grapes and orange slices, motioning her to sit as he took the bench opposite her. “So what do you do for fun?”
“For fun. I’m starting a security business, but you already know that.”
“You have one of those phones that has different rings for different people, don’t you? Does it help you keep your clients straight?”
So he wanted to know about her phone. That wasn’t good. “I keep my phone on vibrate.” She grinned. “I like it that way.”
“I bet. So if my dad had hired you, what would you have done to protect Coronado House?”
“I haven’t really thought about it,” she lied. “It does work out better for me that he was killed before we signed a contract, doesn’t it?”
“Come on,” he cajoled. “You can speculate, can’t you? More video cameras? Motion sensors? Some of those infrared beams?”
“What does it matter? It’s too late now.”
“Yeah, but that guy knew right where he was going, how to get in, where my dad was, how to get out. Do you think any of that technical shit would have stopped him?”
Christ. Now he was fishing for compliments. She looked him in the eye. “No. He was too good. The best I’ve seen, from what I can tell. Do the police have any clues?”
“Not a one. If he’s that good, maybe you know him.” He popped a grape into his mouth. “Maybe he’s famous.”
Was she reading too much into the conversation because she wanted him to be guilty? Was he really pushing his luck as far as she suspected? “I wasn’t that good,” she lied, looking down and feigning disappointment or shame or something that would make him feel even more superior.
“I bet you could hang with the big boys, Sam. I’d let you hang with me.”
She looked up again, smiling. “Are you one of the big boys?”
He leaned closer, to whisper into her ear. “The biggest.”
Samantha chuckled. “And wealthy, too. You are starting to look better and better.”
Daniel angled his head toward the belowdeck hatch. “So do you want to fool around?”
At least he’d asked, instead of just jumping on her. She wasn’t sure she could drive the damned boat back on her own. “I’m still not entirely convinced.”
He stood. “Okay, but I’m going down to freshen up. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here, enjoying the view.”
As Daniel disappeared through the squat door, Samantha sat back. Given her suspicions, she’d expected him to be more defensive and considerably more evasive. Of course, she hadn’t expected that he would be high; that made reading him both easier and more difficult. Quickly she opened her phone and set it to vibrate—not that she had any idea if anybody could reach her out here.
She glanced toward the hatch. He was probably getting higher right now—which could explain his pressing need for cash and his assumption that he would get away with murder. Had Charles doted on him, as Rick had claimed? It would be difficult to prove. Families, especially wealthy ones, tended not to advertise their internal problems. She needed to get a look at Charles’s legal documents to see whether Daniel’s funds had been restricted for any reason.
A quick, hard beat of excitement ran through her. All she needed was a little proof, and she could go to Castillo. And best of all, turning in Daniel would be hugely different from turning in one of her former compatriots. No torn loyalties, no risk of reprisals.
Of course she still had to get back to shore intact and then find a way to get a look at those documents. And finding the paintings and the rubies would definitely help. Samantha sighed. Apparently she was going to have to make nice with Tom Donner again.
When Daniel emerged into the sunlight again his smile was even broader—and he actually had a small streak of powder on his upper lip. Daniel Kunz was either really clever, or really arrogant and stupid.
“You missed a spot,” she noted, pointing at his lip.
With a sheepish chuckle, he ducked his head to wipe his nose clean. “So, where were we?”
“You were about to say that you’ve done some naughty things in your life, and that you would invite me to join you on the next one.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, nodding as he reached for the bottle of wine. “We could be like the modern Bonnie and Clyde. We’d be so hot together.”
“I imagine we would. You make an interesting proposition.”
He handed her a glass of wine and took one, himself. “Here’s to interesting propositions.”
She took a swallow. And to interesting conclusions. “So tell me how you learned to race yachts.”
Rick pulled into the small parking lot outside Paradise Real Estate at five minutes before ten. Laurie drove a BMW, and there was no sign of it yet, so he shut off the SLR’s engine and called Tom.
“Donner,” the attorney answered after one ring.
“Tom, did you get the e-mail I sent?”
“Rick.” Silence. “Yeah, it’s right here. Are you coming in today?”
“This afternoon. I have something to take care of, first.”
“Okay. No problem. We’ll have the updated pages ready for you.”
Richard actually held the phone away from his ear and looked at it. “You remember that the board’s coming in early,” he said after a moment. The way Tom obsessed over details, he should have been close to hysterics right then.
“You only called me an hour ago. We’ll be ready. I’ll talk to you la—”
“What’s going on, Tom?” he interrupted.
“Nothing’s going on. We’re just busy.”
“Is something bothering you? I told you I’d be ready for this.”
“I know.” More silence. “’Bye.”
The line went dead. Something was definitely up. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time Tom had hung up on him. He moved to hit the redial button, but a gleaming silver BMW pulled to a stop beside him. Shit. All right, he’d figure out what was bothering Tom later. It wasn’t as if he had nothing else to accomplish today.
“Laurie,” he said, stepping out of his car to hold her door open for her. “Thank you for returning my call. I know this is short notice.”
“Don’t worry; I’ll make sure you pay for it down the line.” She took his hand, holding it rather than shaking. “Let’s take my car. I’ve got all the maps and printouts.”
With a nod he went around to her passenger door and slid in. He would have preferred to drive, but if driving made her feel more in command of the situation, he had no problem with it. Especially since he had more on his mind than real estate.
“So, Rick—you don’t mind me calling you Rick, do you?”
“Not at all.”
“So, Rick, why didn’t you approach me day before yesterday to arrange a showing?”
“You seemed to have enough on your plate. I wouldn’t have disturbed you for business.”
“Business is business,” she said as they turned out onto the street and headed south. “There’s always time for it.”
That used to be his motto, until he’d met Samantha. His work ethic had slid into a definite secondary position, though he hadn’t realized it until lately. And it didn’t bother him nearly as much as he’d expected it to, or nearly as much as it would have a year ago.
Richard sent Laurie a sideways glance as she checked her mirror. He knew how to use people, to manipulate them into seeing his point of view, and he’d never lost any sleep over that fact. He did it the way some people were doctors and others were mechanics. And he happened to do it very well. Today he meant to use those skills to figure out whether Laurie Kunz had had anything to do with her father’s death. He’d been raised in the elite circle of which she was a part. Those people used money as a weapon. He had a shitload of ammunition.
The question was how hard to push. His own parents had died when he was still a teenager, but even half a continent away at a boarding school in Switzerland and separated from them for nearly a year, he hadn’t felt equal to any kind of task at all for several weeks. The fact that Laurie was out making real estate deals this morning didn’t make her guilty, but it did make him suspicious.
“My condolences again on the loss of your father,” he offered.
“Thank you. It’s been difficult, but Daniel and I are coping.”
“The two of you have always been quite close, haven’t you?”
“We try. It seems like the older we get, the more our interests diverge.” She signaled, turning left into a cozy tract of two-story houses. As she steered past a street game of soccer, she smiled. “Don’t worry; I’m not showing you one of these. There’re some custom homes on the hill.”
“I trust you.”
“Speaking of which, you’re not thinking of selling Solano Dorado, are you? Because I’d be very hurt if you didn’t let me handle the sale.”
“No, no. I promised a friend I’d help her relocate to this area.”
“’A friend,’” Laurie repeated. “Would it bother you if I mentioned that I personally wouldn’t be…sad if you were to end up single again? Not that I wish your relationship with Miss Jellicoe ill, of course.”
He sent her another glance, making sure she saw it this time. “I’m flattered.”
Laurie smiled again. “Good.”
The houses along the crest of the hill were several degrees above those they overlooked. In addition they all seemed to have nice views of the ocean. Large yards, good for entertaining, and a half-dozen rooms, large foyers, and grand curving staircases. He made mental note of everything as they toured the homes she’d selected, but kept his focus on the realtor. The more he could get her to talk, the more he would find out.
“Are you going to keep Coronado House?”
“I’m sure we will. Dad was very fond of it.”
Kunz had also been killed in that same house, but Richard didn’t mention that. “You and Daniel both?” he continued instead.
She looked at him sideways as she showed him out of the house they’d just finished touring. “We’ll stay together unless I get a better offer. What do you think?”
Her. Not Daniel. “What do I think?” he repeated. Of the house?”
“All right.”
He grinned back at her. “I’m thinking something more intimate. A condo—in a high rise. A yard would be at the bottom of the list.” Patricia would require a home where she could be the centerpiece. A garden would just be wasted space where she would complain about the cost of hiring someone to maintain the landscaping. But this outing had not been about his ex-wife as much as it was about Laurie and his impression of her.
“I have two on my list that might suit,” Laurie said, not consulting her notes; she would have every listing memorized.
“Let’s take a look,” he returned, gesturing her back to the car. “If you have time.”
“I have time for you.” They headed back down the hill.
“I should buy you lunch, then, for your trouble.”
“It’s no trouble, Rick, but lunch would be great.”
He nodded. “How about the Blue Anchor Pub in Delray Beach?”
“That’s the pub that came from England, isn’t it?”
“Transported stone by stone. There’s even supposed to be a two-hundred-year-old London ghost there. A murderess or some such thing.” Actually, Bertha was reportedly a murder victim, but the other depiction fit his purposes better.
“Ooh, spooky. It’s a date.” Laurie didn’t bat an eye. If she was a murderess herself, she was a cool-headed one.
“Good.” Perhaps a word like “murderess” hadn’t bothered her, but it was all part of the test.
“You haven’t mentioned what you think of Daniel and Patricia,” she said conversationally.
Richard kept his gaze on the road, but just barely. If he hadn’t had nearly twenty years of practice at hiding his thoughts and feelings, he wouldn’t have made it. Daniel and Patricia? Abruptly a few things made sense. That was why Samantha had chosen to use Patricia to get into the Coronado estate. Which meant that Samantha knew, damn her. “I didn’t think it was any of my affair,” he said smoothly.
“That’s very…British of you, I guess. I was surprised to hear your voice on my answering machine, though. Your ex-wife and my brother are boffing, and aside from that, Patricia seems to think that you have some sort of vendetta against her.”
“She flatters herself.”
“Ah. Now you sound annoyed.”
He laughed. “What’s annoying is people dwelling on the past. There’s no profit, personally or in business, in looking behind you.”
“I’d like to think I’m a forward-looking gal, myself.”
Nodding, Rick turned his gaze out the window, though every ounce of his attention was on the woman in the driver’s seat beside him. “I’ve noticed that people who spend too much time in the past tend not to have a plan for the future.”
“We seem to have a great deal in common.” Laurie chuckled. “You know, I always wondered why you didn’t ask me out after one of those charity polo matches you and Daniel love so much.”
He nearly had once, a few months after his divorce. She was what had once been his type: attractive, self-assured, and used to being in the public eye. “You always had someone else attending with you,” he returned.
“As if that would have stopped you.”
That had been precisely what stopped him. He would never touch another man’s woman. That was one stricture he’d had even before the stickiness with Patricia and Peter. It was that sense of fidelity that he, and Samantha—surprisingly, given her haphazard lifestyle—believed in. Given Laurie’s participation in his pseudo-flirtation, she didn’t seem as particular.
“Will your business concerns change at all with your father gone?” he asked, curving back to his topic of choice.
She shrugged. “Almost everything was put into a trust last year. Daniel and I have some decisions to make, and depending on what comes of it, I may divest myself of Paradise Realty.” Laurie sent him a smile. “Not before I’ve found the ideal property for you, of course. My clients never leave unsatisfied.”
“I don’t doubt it. But what would you do if you gave up your business?”
“Spoken like a true workaholic. I’d travel, I think, and my dad’s business would be more than enough to keep me occupied.”
