Chapter Seven
It was already nearing midday, well after the time Nadia usually checked in with her department managers, by the time she finally found the time to do so. She met with the general manager of the Harlem property to debrief the conference that had just ended and prepare for the upcoming one. They also discussed the fire and the workarounds they’d have to make to seamlessly host the events they had scheduled. The conference needed to go off without a hitch, and she had no doubt her team was up for the challenge.
She followed that meeting with conference calls with her general managers at the other two Shelton Hotel properties and a call with her insurance agent. So far the agent seemed nothing but sympathetic and helpful, but Nadia couldn’t discount the horror stories she’d heard about insurance companies refusing to pay out claims. All she could do was hope that the police wrapped up their investigation quickly and their results unambiguously showed Shelton was not in any way responsible for the fire.
She and Ryan grabbed a quick lunch from the cafe in the hotel lobby, then she dived into reviewing invoices, preparing the monthly occupancy reports and planning a staff-training session. It was late afternoon before the crick in her neck forced her to take a break. She rolled her shoulders, tilting her head from left to right and back. Ryan worked dutifully on his laptop at the table in the corner of her office.
He’d dressed more low-key than usual today in dark slacks and a formfitting burgundy pullover that accentuated his broad shoulders, powerful biceps and flat abs. As flattering as yesterday’s suit had been, she preferred the casual look.
“What are you reading so intensely?” Nadia asked.
Ryan looked up, spearing her with eyes that sent tingles rolling down her spine. “Confirmation on the current whereabouts on your ex-fiancé, Wallace. Seems he’s living in Texas and engaged to an oil heiress.”
“I guess he’ll get his rich wife after all.”
“I’ve also got the background report on Michael Dexter.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t even want to know what it says.”
He shot her a crooked smile that added fireworks to the tingles. “It’s nothing I wouldn’t expect from a businessman that had risen to his position. Some hints regarding questionable ethics on various business deals, but nothing jumps out.”
“Mike doesn’t like to hear the word no, but I doubt he’d go to these lengths just to get me to sell Shelton.”
Ryan hesitated before speaking again. “I’ve also been reading the police report on Nate’s accident.”
A mix of emotions churned in her stomach. She’d never seen the police report. She already knew more about how her brother had died than she wanted to remember.
“Why?”
Ryan crossed to Nadia and leaned a hip against her desk. “Just trying to get a feel for who your brother was.”
Although Nate had been the CEO, Nadia had handled the day-to-day operations of the hotels. She wasn’t sure if Nate had ever met Ryan or dealt with West Security, but if he had, his contact would have been minimal.
“That note makes it clear someone thinks Nate is alive,” Ryan continued. “We need to know why. And if they’re right.”
Nadia rose, sending her chair rolling back into the wall behind her desk. She rounded the desk, stopping close enough to Ryan that she had to tip her head up to look him in the eye.
“Nate is dead.”
Ryan cocked his head, his expression unreadable. “Someone doesn’t believe it.”
Nadia sighed. “If you really want to get to know what Nate was like, we should go to his apartment.”
Ryan’s eyebrows shot up. “I saw that his condo had been transferred to your name, but I’d assumed you’d rented it out. It’s prime real estate.”
Nadia reached for the picture of her and Nate on her desk, running a finger over her brother’s smiling face. “I haven’t been able to bring myself to get rid of his things. And it’s convenient for Uncle Erik to have a place in the city to crash if he has a late meeting or doesn’t feel like making the drive home to Connecticut.” She looked at Ryan. “But that apartment was Nate’s sanctuary. If there is something that might help us figure this mess out, it’s there.”
“I can go by myself.”
“No. I want to be a part of this.”
She stepped back behind her desk long enough to pull her purse from a drawer.
It was after five; the evening shift had already clocked in, and Olivia had headed home. Nadia locked her office, and they headed for the garage next door where Ryan had parked his SUV earlier that morning.
Ryan pointed them south to Nate’s Upper East Side condo, fighting rush hour traffic the whole way.
Nate’s building was architecturally more similar to Ryan’s than hers. The thirty-three-floor high-rise possessed all the amenities a rich bachelor could want: on-site cleaners, concierge, maid service, spa and gym. Twenty-eight floors above the city, the condo boasted spectacular views, despite being relatively small. A galley kitchen jutted off to the right of the entrance and looked into a decent-sized dining–living room combo. A black bookshelf held a smattering of books and several framed pictures of Nate with prominent people. The mayor. A city councilman. Even a United States secretary of state.
A narrow hall opened up beyond the living space.
“Nate used the second bedroom as his office. I think we should start looking there for...” she threw her hands up “...whatever we’re looking for.”
Ryan followed her down the hall and into the bedroom the office. The room’s sleek black-and-silver decor, minimalist and masculine, was all Nate. A sleek arched-legged desk occupied one corner, flanked on either end by more black bookshelves. A metal file cabinet stood in the adjacent corner.
“Do you mind if I see what’s in here?” Ryan asked, pointing to the file cabinet.
Nadia’s chest rose and fell with a shuddered breath. “I guess that is what we’re here for.”
She crossed the room to the desk while he turned to the cabinet. Sitting at Nate’s desk, she let her gaze linger on a photo of the two of them at one of the rare charity functions where he’d felt they both needed to make an appearance. One of the last times she’d seen him.
She turned away from the photo and booted up Nate’s computer. It was only the second time she’d been in Nate’s apartment since his death but the first time she’d ventured into his office, a place Nate had rarely let anyone in. She could have sworn the space still smelled faintly of her brother’s favorite cologne, though common sense told her that wasn’t possible. An acute stab of grief rippled through her.
Shaking off as much of her melancholy as she could, she was for once thankful that he never listened to her about the danger of using a combination of their mother’s name and their childhood address as his password. She scrolled through the files on the laptop not sure exactly what she was looking for. The file labeled Bronx Project both surprised and annoyed her.
She and Nate agreed never to keep company files on their personal computers. Having files spread over multiple devices not only made it difficult to keep track of them, but it also made it more likely sensitive company information could fall into the hands of a competitor.
“Humph.”
Ryan turned at her exclamation. “Did you find anything?”
“Nothing that helps us. It looks like Nate was inquiring about buildings for sale in the Bronx. He never mentioned an interest in purchasing a new property to me.” She didn’t bother masking her irritation.
Ryan crossed the small room and looked over her shoulder at the computer screen. “Maybe he hadn’t gotten around to talking to you about it.”
“You’re probably right.” Nadia turned in her chair to look up at him. “Did you find anything?”
Ryan shook his head. “Just the usual personal papers—copies of past tax returns, t
he deed to this place, insurance papers.”
She sighed. “I probably should have known that. Uncle Erik was Nate’s executor. He handled everything after Nate died. For a while, I could barely keep it together enough to handle the hotels.”
Ryan laid a hand on her shoulder, which she covered with her own. “That’s understandable.”
When she’d come to the apartment with Uncle Erik, he’d been all business, hustling her in and out as quickly as possible. Maybe he thought it was the only way for them to get through being in Nate’s space. But now new waves of grief for her brother washed over her, and she let herself feel them. Eventually, she’d have to get rid of Nate’s things whether she rented the place or sold it, which would be yet another reminder that he was never coming back.
She leaned into his hand. He ran his thumb in soft circles over the swell of her cheek.
“Are we done? I’ve had enough memories for one day.” She turned her back to Ryan, not wanting him to see the tears threatening to fall.
He stepped back, his hand falling from her shoulder. “I want to take a quick look in the bedroom.”
She powered down Nate’s computer, and they crossed the hall.
Nadia opened the bedroom door and screamed.
Ryan swore, reaching for the gun at his back, as he turned her away from the sight of the dead man on the floor, his sightless eyes staring at the ceiling.
Chapter Eight
The first officer to arrive took Nadia’s and Ryan’s statements, then ordered them to remain in the hall outside the apartment. They didn’t wait long before Detective Parsmons arrived. He eyed them and went into the apartment without stopping to speak. Nearly an hour passed before Parsmons came back out with another man that he introduced as Detective Beard.
Detective Beard led Ryan to the opposite end of the hall to talk, while Parsmons asked Nadia to go over the events of the evening for him.
Exhaustion clutched at her despite the relatively early evening hour. Still, Nadia repeated the statement she’d given the officer when he’d arrived.
“Walk me through it again,” Detective Parsmons said when she finished, peering at her over round-rimmed spectacles.
She sighed heavily, fighting the urge to slide down the wall and sit. Her legs felt ready to give out.
“I told you. We came by the apartment to see if we could discover who might be behind all the things that have happened to me.”
“And you came straight here from the hotel?”
“Yes. I was at the hotel all day.”
Detective Parsmons looked down at the notebook in his hand. “And when you got here you went straight to the office? You didn’t stop by the bedroom first?”
“No,” Nadia said through gritted teeth. “The office seemed to be the most logical place to look first.”
“Humph.” Parsmons didn’t look up from his notes. “Then what?”
For the second time, Nadia took him through the course of events, starting with finding nothing helpful in the office, then moving to the bedroom and discovering the dead man.
“Who has keys to the apartment?” Parsmons asked.
“My uncle and I. He stays here sometimes when he doesn’t want to make the trek back to his house in Greenwich.”
“But the place is in your name, right? So legally it’s yours?”
Nadia rubbed her brow, warding off the headache growing there. “Yes, but this is the first time I’ve been here in months.”
“Humph,” Parsmons repeated.
“It’s been a long day.” Ryan’s familiar deep voice came from behind Nadia, just before she felt his hand on her back. “If you’re finished with your questioning, I’d like to take Nadia home.”
Relief flowed through Nadia.
Detective Parsmons’s eyes shifted to Ryan. “One more question. Either of you have any idea who the dead man is?”
“No,” Ryan said.
At the same time, Nadia answered, “Yes.”
Nadia shifted as Ryan and Parsmons looked at her with twin expressions of surprise.
“I don’t actually know the man, but he looks like one of the guys that chased me into Sentinel last night.”
“But you didn’t recognize the dead guy?” Parsmons directed the question to Ryan.
Ryan frowned. “No, but I was focused on Nadia.” Ryan tapped the screen on his phone. “I pulled the footage from Sentinel’s cameras.” He turned the phone so they could all look at the video. “He could be the dead guy.”
Ryan pointed to the man that had come in through Sentinel’s back door.
“Can you send me that video?” Parsmons asked, handing Ryan a business card.
Ryan tapped the phone screen a few more times, then tucked the phone into his pocket.
Parsmons snapped the leather cover on his notebook closed. “You know I find this all very peculiar, I have to say. There’s a fire in your hotel, and a suspicious note is left in your office. And now the man you say broke into your home and attempted to kidnap you is found in an apartment you own.”
Ryan’s arm slipped around Nadia’s shoulder, pulling her into his side. The warmth of his body radiated through her. “If you’ve got something to say, spit it out, Detective,” Ryan growled.
Parsmons’s eyes narrowed and swung from Nadia to Ryan and back. “Okay. You, Miss Shelton,” Parsmons said, pointing to Nadia, “have access to all the relevant places in this story. Your apartment. This apartment. The hotel. You seem to be the common denominator. Why is that?”
Nadia stiffened but held Parsmons’s gaze. “I don’t know, Detective.”
“Me either.” Parsmons pointed his index finger at her. “But I’m going to find out.”
* * *
SHE WAS MORE than ready to leave Nate’s apartment once Parsmons released them. She didn’t want her Uncle Erik to hear about the dead body found there from someone else and worry, so she called him as soon as she got back to Ryan’s apartment.
“Are you okay? Tell me where you are. I’ll be right there.” Her Uncle Erik’s voice boomed from the other end of the phone.
Nadia glanced around Ryan’s guest room. She wasn’t about to tell her uncle she stayed the night with a man she barely knew. He’d have a heart attack. She couldn’t explain it, but despite only knowing Ryan through his security work with the hotel, she knew without a doubt she was safest with him.
“Don’t come back into the city. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m staying the night with a friend. I just wanted to warn you that the police will probably be in touch and Nate’s apartment will be off-limits for a while.”
“Well, for how long?”
Nadia clenched her teeth. “I don’t know, but while the police are investigating, you can take a room at one of the hotels if you’re going to stay in the city.”
“It’s not that. I was going to call you. I have to go out of town for a day or two.”
“Something serious?”
“No, no. An issue with a client that has to be dealt with in person.”
Nadia promised to keep him updated before ending their call and exhaling deeply. She fell back onto the bed, her legs dangling over the edge, and took a moment to simply feel the soft mattress at her back and enjoy the quiet. Uncle Erik was tightly wound by nature, and conversations with him were often energy sucks. Given where her energy meter had been when she’d initiated the call, she was now running on fumes.
She was debating whether to just call it a night and slide under the covers when the smell of onions and ginger snaked its way under the door, making her stomach grumble. She climbed off the bed and made her way to Ryan’s kitchen.
Ryan spooned chicken stir-fry onto two plates. “I figured you’d be hungry.”
“You were right,” she said as Ryan brought their plates to the table. “This looks great. Thanks.”
Ryan sat opposite her at the table but didn’t begin eating. “It’s not every day you find a body. How are you doing?”
She wasn’t sure how to answer that. Finding a dead man’s body in Nate’s apartment had been a shock on top of all the other emotions that had swelled inside her from being back in her brother’s personal space. Now, she just felt worn down, and she couldn’t wait until she could fall asleep.
“As well as can be expected, I guess.”
They ate in comfortable silence for several long moments.
“I have to take a day trip to Maine tomorrow. I’ve arranged for one of our best men to stick with you while I’m gone,” Ryan said.
“What are you going to do in Maine?” she asked, although she thought she already knew the answer.
Ryan held her gaze. “I want to talk to the sheriff that investigated Nate’s accident.”
“Why? You read the report. What more do you need to know?”
Ryan hesitated before speaking. “The report is the official record, but it doesn’t tell me anything about the investigating officer’s opinions and gut feelings. I’m much more likely to get that out of the sheriff if I speak to her in person.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what you think you’ll find.”
“Maybe nothing, but part of the reason I’m good at my job is that I’m thorough. I’ll be back tonight.”
“I’m going with you.” Nadia wiped her hands on the cloth napkin next to her plate.
Ryan frowned. “That’s not necessary.”
“It absolutely is. You obviously think something Nate was into before his death could be the key to what’s going on here. I don’t know that I agree with that, but I trust you. And if you’re right, I want to know what that is.”
Nadia waited without breaking eye contact while Ryan silently assessed her. She was involved in this, whether she wanted to be or not. She would not sit back and play the damsel in distress, leaving Ryan and West Security to crack the case.
“Okay. We’ll be leaving at six. It’s a little over a three-hour drive to Northpath, Rhode Island. I’d like to talk to the sheriff and be back on the road to New York before the sun goes down,” Ryan finally agreed.
Pursuit of the Truth Page 7