The Elizabeth McClaine Thriller Boxed Set

by Catherine Lea

  Elizabeth stalked over to the window and stared out over the city—her city. She knew this place like the back of her hand; knew those who protected it, those who thought they ran it. They weren’t always the same.

  With a glance back at her PA, she said, “Is that what you think? That I’m barking up the wrong tree?”

  Penny stared at her, unblinking. “Um, is ‘yes’ the correct answer?”

  “No, it isn’t the correct answer. I may not be in the political arena any more, but I know a smear campaign when I see one. This is a diversionary tactic. It’s what the good old boys do. If anyone gets one whiff of their dirty slush funds or their nasty little illegal operations, they pick that person out, make up all kinds of stories about them, and throw them under whatever bus happens to be passing. By the time the media’s done, it doesn’t matter if it was true or not. That person’s reputation is in the toilet and there’s no coming back.”

  Penny frowned, clearly dubious.

  Exasperated, Elizabeth turned to her. “Don’t you see? That’s what’s happening here. I was thinking about this all the way over here. Seriously, yes, trust funds may have inadvertently been invested into Aden Falls. But how is that insider trading? Unless I benefit personally, and financially, from the deal. Or if whatever I’ve done has been at the expense of someone else. So, investing a few measly bucks into a healthcare facility—with no personal financial gain coming my way—tell me how that could be illegal?”

  “Well,” Penny began and put up both hands, “just playing devil’s advocate here, but don’t you think it’s a little close to home? I mean, I know the trust needs to invest its money, but some could point to the fact that we do, indeed…benefit.”

  Elizabeth threw up one hand. “And there you are. You’re doing it now. You’re focusing on my suspected wrongdoing instead of what’s really going on here. You’re stuck in that debate of whether I’ve actually committed a crime or not. You’re not focusing on why the issue has suddenly become relevant in the first place.”

  One corner of Penny’s mouth drew back briefly in confusion. “I’m sorry, I don’t see the connection.”

  “Precisely. That’s the point. It’s a well-used political tactic. And even if I was arrested for insider trading—which I doubt I would be—with the time it would take for lawyers to get involved and me to defend myself against the charges, then whoever’s behind it—the real culprit—would have had enough time to dig a hole and bury the crime before anyone even knows. Meanwhile, I’m the one in the public square having rotten tomatoes thrown at me.”

  “You really think that’s what this is? That someone’s trying to blacken your reputation? Just to cover something up?”

  “I can smell it. You don’t hang around these people and not see all the dirty tricks they’ll pull when they think someone is getting too close to the truth.”

  Penny spread her hands. “What truth? We don’t even know what’s happened.”

  “Exactly. So, let’s go back. Something happened. Something someone thought was safe. When did all this start?”

  Still unconvinced, Penny frowned at the floor, then said, “When Laney Donohue took her sister out of Sunny Springs? That’s when all this began, right?”

  “Exactly. And at what point did I get involved?”

  “When…” Penny jutted out her lower lip. “…you went to see David Whitcliff, I guess.”

  Elizabeth tapped the side of her nose and pointed at Penny. “Give the lady a prize. David Whitcliff was at my party. Why didn’t he tell me?”

  “Um…he was embarrassed?”

  “No, because he was trying to make out he was out searching for Kimmy. That’s why he didn’t call the police. Because David had no idea Kimmy was gone. So, who else would have known about Laney taking Kimmy?”

  “No one but the staff there, I guess.”

  “Caroline called me. And evidently, someone else called Laney.”

  “Do we know who?”

  “Not yet. But there’s a chance that whoever called Laney told someone else who had an interest. So, who else was there who knew I was involved?” When she saw Penny still struggling, she said, “This isn’t about me being paranoid. Something is going on here.”

  “Okay. Well, I guess…maybe not David Whitcliff, but how about the Admissions Manager?”

  “Velma Stanford. There’s something about that woman that gives me the creeps,” Elizabeth muttered as an aside. “Who else?”

  “Caroline, of course.”

  Elizabeth blinked. “Oh my gosh. If anyone found out she called me, she could be in danger. I’ll let Delaney know.”

  Penny shifted uncomfortably. “I’m still not convinced all this is connected with the Jennifer Reels stories. I mean, surely it would have to be someone who had access to your financial information.”

  Ignoring her, Elizabeth let her gaze range out across the office. “Or maybe this nurse aid has something of someone’s, and they want it back. And that was the stone that caused the first ripple.”

  “Who is this girl she’s looking for, anyway? The nurse aid—what’s the big deal?”

  “Apparently, she’s the one who took care of Kimmy while Laney was in prison.”

  “But that could also be a coincidence, right?” Penny asked, still obviously unconvinced.

  “Look, this nurse aid disappears from Sunny Springs, a dead girl with no identification turns up in Lake View Cemetery, and suddenly, the instant I start looking into what’s happened, my name hits the headlines for all the wrong reasons. That’s no coincidence. That’s a reaction. I think this nurse aid knows something or has seen something someone doesn’t want made public.”

  “Maybe it’s to do with whatever Laney took when she broke into Sunny Springs,” Penny offered, although still without conviction.

  Elizabeth slowly turned a wide-eyed look on her PA while the pieces fell into place. “Of course. Laney inadvertently picked up something from those files no one wanted her to see.”

  “So, what would that be? I mean, all they have out there are the files of their disabled clients or their employees, don’t they?”

  “Exactly,” said Elizabeth, this time with a little less conviction.

  Penny gave it some deep thought. “I’m sorry, I’m totally lost,” she finally admitted.

  “Stick with me, kid. There was something in those files someone doesn’t want made public. Who would that someone be?”

  “Um…Velma Stanford?”

  “David Whitcliff, that’s who,” Elizabeth corrected her. “Well, if David Whitcliff thinks he can lie to me about his whereabouts, then bushwhack me with a few fake media reports so he can hide his dirty deals or whatever he’s doing, he can think again.”

  Penny grabbed her purse and scuttled after Elizabeth as she left the office.

  “You think he’s doing some dirty deals? Wait up, Elizabeth, I have to lock up.”

  Elizabeth wasn’t waiting. She had already marched down to the elevators and stabbed the down button repeatedly with her finger. By the time Penny caught up, Elizabeth was huffing up at the light panel and impatiently checking her watch.

  “So that’s where we’re going? To see David Whitcliff?”

  “What’s the point? He’ll deny everything. And I doubt he’s calling the shots here. I’d get more going to his boss.”

  “Then we’re going to see Ryan Halverston?” The delight in Penny’s tone made Elizabeth turn a skeptical gaze on her PA.

  “Don’t let that blue-eyed smile and those dashing good looks fool you. If he’s planning to put my ass in a sling and boot it all the way to Texas just because he’s got something to hide, he’s got another think coming. But there’s one person I need to see before I confront him again.”

  As soon as the elevator opened, Elizabeth stepped straight in and punched the button for the basement parking.

  “That being…?” Penny said.

  “Grant Alders. He’s the one who signs off on all these investment deal
s. He can tell me if they’re legit.”

  They both stood staring up at the light panel, watching the numbers count down. Finally, Penny said in a quiet voice, “I thought you weren’t worried.”

  The bell pinged and the elevator doors opened. Elizabeth regarded her PA for a second. “It’s one thing not being worried. It’s a whole different matter not being prepared.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  DAY TWO—4:38 PM—ELIZABETH

  Grant Alders was in court when Elizabeth arrived. His legal assistant asked her to wait in his office, telling her that he wouldn’t be long. Almost thirty minutes later, the door opened and he walked in, all bluster and apologies as he hung up his jacket behind the door.

  “I’m sorry I kept you waiting, Elizabeth.”

  “It’s me that should apologize, Grant. I know this is short notice.”

  Grant Alders had been a family friend and had spearheaded the legal department of Charles McClaine’s construction company since the beginning. A big man, with deep-set brown eyes and a kindly demeanor, it was generally thought that his business acumen and legal expertise had formed the backbone of Charles’s empire, and that without him the company would never have survived those early days.

  He gestured her to a comfortable leather chair opposite him. “Can I get you coffee?”

  “Not for me, thank you. I don’t want to hold you up,” she said, noting the pile of files on his desk.

  He sat back, arms along the armrests of his leather chair, assuming a relaxed position. His furrowed brow and tight features, however, contradicted any ease he tried to portray. He seemed tense, anxious to get on with it. “Now, what can I do for you?”

  She fixed his gaze. “The investments for the trust.”

  A little shrug. “What about them?”

  “I assume you sign off all the paperwork?”

  “You know I do.” Grant shifted in his seat, his brow furrowing slightly. “Is there a legal problem you’re worried about, Elizabeth?”

  “It’s the funds that we have invested with Aden Falls.”

  He opened his hands briefly. “What about them, Elizabeth?”

  “I have a rogue reporter claiming that we’re—well, my foundation—is guilty of insider trading.”

  He smiled widely. “By investing in a large company that happens to be in the same industry? How could that be insider trading?”

  “Payton Healthcare just won the tender to supply all our client evaluation services for funding.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Jennifer Reels is claiming that Payton is a subsidiary of Aden Falls. And that as a result of that deal, the share price of Aden Falls increased and that could be construed as insider trading.”

  Grant tipped his head, clearly amused. “That’s quite a long shot, Elizabeth. Companies often invest in the same industry because they understand it. And according to my records, the share hike wasn’t exactly earth-shattering.”

  “So, there’s nothing to worry about?”

  “This reporter is hunting for a story. I’m sorry it’s upset you so much, my dear.”

  She gave it a moment while she mentally put all the facts together. “Okay. Gate Westrum,” she said. “Do you know him?”

  His eyebrows went up while he took a dubious breath. “That’s a name that hasn’t surfaced lately.”

  “I hear he was murdered.”

  “So I believe.”

  “What do you know about him?”

  He looked away and opened his hands, perhaps considering how to frame the explanation. “The way I heard it, he got into some financial difficulties.”

  “What kind of financial difficulties?”

  “He’d become involved in some illegal dealing. But that’s all I heard.” He frowned. “Elizabeth, I can see why you’d be concerned about charges of insider trading, but what’s your interest in Gate Westrum?”

  She shifted in her chair. “I suppose you saw the article in the paper. About the Charles McClaine trust, and my recommending our clients into Sunny Springs—which is owned by Aden Falls.”

  “I did, as a matter of fact. I guessed you must have had your reasons. I suggest if you have an issue with the client funding you should see Kyle Hendry in the finance team. He’s the one responsible for client authorization sign-offs.”

  “Thank you, I will.” She met his eye, held it. “There’s something else. This reporter, Jennifer Reels, the one who’s dragging my name through the mud. Turns out, she’s the same one who wrote the articles on Gate Westrum.”

  He lowered his gaze for a moment, then looked up, puzzlement obvious in his expression. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth, you’ve lost me.”

  “I was hoping you might know what incriminating evidence Gate Westrum was found with. In the dumpster, I mean. I thought if I can find a connection between my foundation and whoever Gate Westrum was dealing with, I could figure out what the angle is.”

  The smile on Grant’s face deepened the crease lines each side of his mouth. He dropped his head briefly again, maybe a little embarrassed.

  “The way I heard it, there was a significant amount of photographic evidence proving that Gate Westrum had had a wonderful time in the company of some very dubious ladies on his trips. With all due respect, Elizabeth, I can’t see how that could possibly be connected to you.”

  “You think someone was blackmailing him?”

  “Blackmail was never suggested in the articles I read about him. But I guess that’s possible. Gate held a lot of highly sensitive information about his clients.” Grant scratched at the corner of his eye. “Whatever that information was, he must have somehow used it to manipulate someone. And that didn’t end well for him.”

  “What was found with him?”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “So where were the photos taken?”

  “The police said they were from a nightclub, I believe. They were following up, but that was the last I heard.”

  “Did you know him? Personally, I mean?”

  He shook his head, made a dismissive face. “I met him twice. He was still trying to build his business as a realty broker. He approached us with some business opportunities, but they weren’t what we were looking for. Otherwise, I only know what I read in the papers.”

  “Have the police followed up on his murder?”

  Mouth down at the corners, he gave another head-shake. “I have no idea, Elizabeth, but I’d assume so. What’s this got to do with the article on your foundation? You want to initiate an allegation of libel against her?”

  “No, no.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s a gut feeling, that’s all. I believe someone put Jennifer Reels up to writing the article in order to sidetrack me from looking into why a nurse aid from Sunny Hills disappeared.”

  He blinked at her. “And you think there’s a connection. With this young woman.” Not questions. Statements of disbelief.

  Elizabeth could hardly blame him.

  She sighed. “Okay, I admit, there may be no connection,” she said. “I’m simply trying to establish why this article came out the minute I began looking into the incident at Sunny Springs. Like I said, it may be coincidence. If Gate Westrum had been murdered in some random attack, as unfortunate as it would be, I could see that. But he was found in a dumpster with a bunch of sordid photographs. To me, that was done to humiliate. But why would anyone do that? The guy is dead. The only reason I can think of is that someone wanted to send a message to someone else.”

  “I have no idea, Elizabeth. I can only tell you what I heard.”

  “Then I discovered someone invited him to my party.”

  His head jerked forward. “Your birthday party?”

  “Correct.”

  “Elizabeth, if anyone had seen him, I can guarantee at least someone would have recognized him. He’s been dead for months.”

  “I know, I know,” she said, feeling foolish for even suggesting it. “And I appreciate anything you have told me.” Sensing sh
e’d gotten everything she could, she gathered her purse and searched in it for her key. “Oh, can I ask one more thing?”

  He smiled. “Sure.”

  “Where was the nightclub he was visiting?” When he frowned, she added, “You said Gate Westrum was on some kind of business trip.”

  He gave a small shoulder shrug. “Boston, I think. But don’t quote me on that. I could be wrong,” he admitted.

  He could have been, but a tiny voice echoed through her head telling her he wasn’t.

  “Do you know the name of the nightclub?”

  “I’m sorry, Elizabeth, I don’t.” He grinned. “It’s not somewhere I’d go. But like I said, maybe Kyle can shed a little more light on the client funding for you.”

  “Thanks, Grant. You’ve been a terrific help.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  DAY TWO—5:09 PM—ELIZABETH

  Grant had called ahead to find that Kyle was in a meeting, but promised he’d be there as soon as he could. Ten minutes later, he emerged from the elevator with his hand out, and a welcoming smile. He threw one arm gently around Elizabeth and affectionately pecked her on the cheek, then escorted her straight to his office.

  After rounding his desk to sit facing her, he lifted a stack of files from the desk, set them aside, then swiveled back to face her, leaning on both elbows, chin rested on his bridged hands, eyeing her fondly.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt you like this, Kyle.”

  “My dear, you have no need to apologize. In fact,” he said with a conspiratorial wink, “you’ve given me a good excuse to take ten minutes out.”

  A nice remark, although Elizabeth knew full well that the only thing that would interrupt his schedule would be an imminent threat to the company, or his own death.

  “Oh, and I forgot to tell you how much I appreciate your inviting me to your party. Just a shame I didn’t get to spend more time with you. I was looking forward to at least one dance.”

  “I’m so sorry, but I got an urgent call and had to rush away,” she said. “Promise me you’ll come to the next one, and the first dance is yours.”

  “Wild horses wouldn’t keep me,” he said and chuckled. Clasping his hands on the desk in front of him, he let the smile drop. All business now, he frowned at her. “Now, what can I do for you?”