“Okay, let me get this straight.” Evie’s voice emerged from Brooke’s phone, set on speakerphone so she could pace around her living room. “Since I was at your house—oh, two hours ago—and you were telling me you loved RJ, he’s now dumped you and fired you.”
Brooke inhaled an unsteady breath. She’d already cried once; surely she could keep the tears in for now. “That’s pretty much it. I’m not technically fired. I’m on paid leave. In fact he was so keen to get rid of me that he’s paying me more to stay home than I’d get to come to the office. He’s furious with me.”
“All because you neglected to mention that you shopped his mom to the cops.”
“Evie! Are you my friend?”
“I’m teasing. You didn’t tell him because you thought he’d dump you and fire you. Apparently you were right.” She could tell Evie found this slightly funny. “I’m thinking he’s not quite so fabulous as you originally told me.”
“He’s a very passionate, proud family man. He was raised to be head of the Kincaid family, and they come first. I admire that.”
“Even when it means you come last?”
Brooke bit her lip hard. “I wish the two weren’t mutually exclusive. If I could figure out a way to get his mom out of jail, he might forgive me.”
“Elizabeth Kincaid is out of jail!” Evie’s voice boomed out of the tiny phone. “I saw it on the news not fifteen minutes ago. She’s been granted bail.”
“She’s out?” RJ hadn’t told her. Then again, why would he? He didn’t want anything to do with her. Her heart crumpled.
“They showed a video of her leaving the jail. She’s one of those people who manages to look like a society matron even in that situation, polite smile at the cameras, and all that.”
“That is good news.” She shoved a hand through her hair. “RJ must be thrilled. I wonder if they know who the real killer is.” If his mom was truly freed, he might not be so angry with her anymore.
“From what you said, it sounds like you and Elizabeth Kincaid were there right at the time the murder was committed. Did you see or hear anything odd?”
“The building was pretty much empty. But apparently the intruder hid somewhere after the murder and crept out when the guard was in the bathroom.”
“So they probably snuck in well before the murder. Were there any unfamiliar people around the office?”
“I didn’t notice any but it was a very crazy day. There were at least three big meetings, one of them offsite at the architects. I had a terrible time struggling back with all those blueprints.” A thought struck her. She stopped pacing and stood still in the center of the room. An entire, fully formed memory sprang into her head. “My God, the blueprints. I brought them to talk with RJ about the plans for the new retail development on the waterfront. RJ went off to a meeting and I came back to the office with armfuls of blueprints. It was right before closing and pouring rain and I ran from the car park to the front door, trying not to get them wet, but I couldn’t get into the revolving door.”
Suddenly the whole scene was crystal clear in her mind. The fish smell of the rainstorm, her face and hair wet in the heavy shower, big drops splashing on the crucial blueprints.
And a man in a raincoat, who took half of the blueprints, opened the revolving door for her, and stepped in with her.
They’d emerged on the other side and she’d thanked him profusely as he handed back the rest of the tall cylinders of paper, then they’d walked to the bank of elevators. He didn’t get in with her, and that was the last she saw of him.
But he hadn’t stopped to sign in at the security desk.
“Brooke, have you been struck dumb?”
“The man, who came through the door with me. He was quite tall, but not quite as tall as RJ.” Why did her thoughts spring so readily back to him? “He wore one of those felt hats, you know, the Indiana Jones kind.”
“I call those jerk hats, because that’s the kind of person who usually wears them. In fact my last boyfriend before—”
“Evie! This is important. His hat was dripping from the rain, and he had little round glasses, the kind with the metal rim, thick lenses, so you could barely see his eyes.”
“What about his features. Did you recognize him?”
“No. He had a beard and moustache. Damn, I can’t remember the color. Gray, maybe? He was an older guy. And he had a Boston accent, I remember it. You know the kind. I pahked the cahr in Hahrvad Yahd.”
Evie laughed aloud. “He sounds very suspicious.”
“He didn’t stand out much at the time. The coat and hat kind of fit, with the rain. It was so wet, and dark, one of those intense, stormy days. Besides, we get quite a few characters at the office, especially since we’ve branched into real estate. You wouldn’t believe the kind of people who just happened to own a derelict dock in North Jersey.”
“Or Massachusetts.”
“Exactly. I didn’t really think anything of it, but since it was five everyone was leaving, security was in the middle of a shift change and he was with me so he breezed by the security desk without anyone stopping him.”
“When he wasn’t actually with you.”
“No. Not at all.”
“He could have been waiting for that opportunity.”
“I suppose so.” A tingle of anticipation—or was it fear—shot up Brooke’s spine. “I think this is important.”
“You should call RJ and tell him.”
For a moment her fingers itched to hang up on Evie and dial RJ immediately. Then an awful thought occurred to her. “Do you think RJ will be happy to hear I let the killer into the building?” If anything, this made things worse.
“Since he’s mad at you already, what’s the harm?”
Brooke hugged herself, and stared out the window onto the dark street. “I think I should call and tell the police. I can’t believe I never thought of this when I first spoke to them. Then again, maybe this guy had a reason to be there? Perhaps he’s not relevant at all.”
“Or maybe you’ve just helped to identify Reginald Kincaid’s murderer. RJ will be over the moon that you’ve cleared his mother of all suspicion, and he’ll run right over there and ask you to marry him.”
Bright moonlight fell at an angle on the cars parked outside, casting long, sharp daggers of light that fell through her window and across her carpet. “I doubt it.”
Ten
“Where’s Brooke?” Matt appeared in RJ’s office doorway, then cast a glance back at Brooke’s empty desk.
RJ shoved a hand through his hair. His chest ached and his head hurt. “On a leave of absence.” He said it coolly, hoping Matt would drop the subject.
“Is she sick?” His brother looked worried.
“Nope. I just thought it better if she was home for a while. Things were getting too complicated.”
Matt cocked his head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
RJ stood up from his chair and stretched. Or tried to. Every muscle in his body was tight as a bowstring. He felt Brooke’s absence like a missing limb. The office seemed dark and empty without her sunny presence. “I didn’t plan it. What a cliché, to have an affair with my assistant. I lost my mind.”
And then I lost my heart. He cursed the unwanted thought that sprang into his brain. Another cliché. Mom read him too much poetry when he was a kid.
Matt moved in and closed the door. “Is she making threats?”
“God, no.”
“You’re angry she didn’t tell you she saw Mom on the night of the murder.”
“I was angry. I’m still confused by it. And there’s something else.” Adrenaline pulsed through him. He picked up a paperweight on his desk and studied it in the light. A tiny model ship trapped in glass, sailing nowhere
.
Matt raised a brow. “Care to tell me?”
“I forgot to use a condom.”
His brother’s eyes widened. “You think she’s pregnant?”
“No idea yet, but she could be. Can you see how things were getting complicated?” His heart squeezed. Was Brooke sitting somewhere alone and worried? He cursed the violent urge to take her in his arms and comfort her.
“What a mess. Still, it’s not nice to banish her when she’s worrying about it, too. She didn’t mean to get mom into trouble.”
“We needed some space. Things were too intense.” At least that’s how he tried to explain the strange commotion of feelings that left him unsettled and edgy.
“You miss her, don’t you?”
RJ placed the paperweight back on the desk with a thud. “I don’t know how I feel. Too much happening all at once.”
“I know the feeling.” Matt grinned. “It all came thick and fast between me and Susannah. I think you should go with your gut instincts.”
“I’m not sure I have any.” His gut was in turmoil right now, maybe because he couldn’t face breakfast. Or because he couldn’t face a day without Brooke in it. “Besides, we have work to do. To make Jack Sinclair richer.” He attempted a wry grin.
Matt crossed his arms. “Don’t change the subject.”
“Why not? Isn’t that what we’re doing here? You’d think Jack would be here himself pitching in, since he owns forty-five percent of the company. And what’s with Nikki stalling on digging into his books?” Phew. He’d managed to get off the topic of Brooke.
Matt shrugged. “I don’t think she suspects him of murder as much as you do.”
“Me? What about you?”
“I barely know the guy. Too soon to draw any conclusions. Things aren’t always what they seem. Besides, I heard from Tony that the police have new eyewitness testimony about a strange man in the building on the day of the murder.”
He sat up. “That’s great. Details?”
“An older guy in a trilby, with a Boston accent.” Matt shrugged. “I can’t think of any clients with Boston accents, can you?”
RJ shook his head. “No, but this is great news. I’m going to call Tony for the full scoop. Hopefully they’ll drop all charges against Mom and we can put that ugly chapter behind us.”
“Brooke is the new eyewitness. Apparently she called the police last night after remembering the man.”
RJ froze. Could Brooke have made this new suspect up? For a moment he cursed himself for the disloyal thought. But he didn’t trust Brooke anymore. The realization hit him like a fist to the gut.
“Why the grim expression?” Matt shrugged off his jacket and threw it over his arm.
“Seems very convenient that she suddenly remembers a mysterious intruder, right after everyone’s angry with her for surreptitiously fingering Mom.”
Matt stepped forward and clapped his hand on RJ’s upper arm. “Bro, you’re all on edge, but Brooke is not the type to lie. That’s why she told the police the truth in the first place. We’ve both worked with her long enough to know it.”
Emotion gripped his chest like a nutcracker. He knew Matt was right. “She never did lie, she just didn’t tell me the whole truth.” He rubbed his forehead. “Because she was afraid the truth would upset me. If anything, it’s my fault she kept silent.” He blew out a hard breath. “I owe her an apology.” His neurons fired with energy, spurring him forward. “I’m going over to her house.”
Matt grinned. “Glad to hear it. I hope she’ll forgive you for overreacting.”
RJ grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and pulled it on. “Me, too.”
Brooke didn’t know what to do. It was midmorning and usually she’d have sorted through a ream of mail and coordinated several schedules and possibly attended a meeting or two. This morning all she’d done was drink a cup of coffee (decaf in case she was pregnant), do some halfhearted yoga poses and dust her bookshelves. She’d be wise to start looking for another job, but she didn’t have the heart.
She let out a long sigh and poured the dregs of her coffee into the kitchen sink. She felt like someone had taken a hunting knife to her chest and cut her heart right out of it. All the excitement and happiness of yesterday had crashed and burned so fast she was still too numb to even react properly. She knew pain was coming but right now she was still too shocked and dazed for it to touch her.
How quickly RJ had gone from cherishing her to despising her. He must have never really cared about her in the first place. A sharp pang of disappointment stung her. She still cared about him. She should be angry with him for dismissing her so harshly, but she couldn’t blame him. He was under stress and his family came first. She knew both those things before they got involved.
It was her own stupid fault she wasn’t brave enough to tell the truth about seeing his mom there that evening and telling the police. Now he’d learn that she let the killer into the building, which was hardly likely to help him forgive her.
She brought her empty coffee cup down on the sideboard with a light thunk. What a mess. Still, time to get dressed. No sense spending the day moping around in her pajamas. If she was pregnant she’d need to be strong for her child, and she might as well start now, just in case.
She’d turned on the shower and started to take off her PJs when the doorbell rang. She frowned. The mail had already been delivered and no one could expect her home at this time. She pulled her T-shirt back down again, turned off the water. Maybe it was the police. She’d spoken to a detective at the station yesterday and they said they might want to speak to her again. She grabbed a robe off the back of the door and slid her arms into it. She couldn’t face those flint-eyed officers in her heart-print shorts and top.
As she slid back the chain and undid the lock she couldn’t stop a massive, painful flash of hope that it might be RJ on the other side. This in no way diminished her surprise when she opened the door to his tall, imposing presence on her doorstep, dressed in a dark suit.
“May I come in?” His deep voice barely penetrated her shock. She hadn’t said a word.
Her pulse now pounded hard and fast. “Yes.” She stepped aside and he walked in. Didn’t try to kiss her. Didn’t shake hands. Still, a rush of energy crashed through her as his body passed within inches of hers.
She closed the door behind him and turned to face him, still no idea what to say. Why was he here?
His bold blue eyes met hers. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too.” The words fell from her mouth. So much for playing it cool. “Very much.” She bit her lip to stop more confessions pouring forth.
“I’ve come to apologize.” His eyes darkened. Brooke held her breath. “Banishing you from the office was out of line. I’ve been on edge, upset about my mom being in jail. I overreacted to hearing that you were the eyewitness.” Morning light shone through the window onto his hard profile.
“I should have told you it was me. I kept trying to pluck up the courage to tell you, but I was so afraid you’d be angry, and I only made it worse.”
His expression softened. “My behavior proved you were right. I flew off the handle and it was inappropriate.” He hesitated. The air thickened with tension and anticipation until Brooke felt faint. “I’m sorry.”
Sorry. Her heart sank. What had she hoped for? He was sorry. For sending her home. For sleeping with her without a condom. For sleeping with her at all. For kissing her. For ever hiring her in the first place…
Her head hurt and she fought to keep herself from shaking, as RJ’s tall presence filled her living room.
“Brooke.” He stepped forward, and again, pathetic hope rushed through her like a burst water main. He took her hands. Her fingers tingled and heated inside his. “All these years we wo
rked together, sitting in meetings and discussing correspondence and spending all day with each other.” She held herself steady. “And all along I never realized I was working side by side with the perfect woman for me.”
She blinked. The perfect woman for him? Her tongue seemed stuck in her mouth. Surely she should say something here, but no words rose from her confused and anxious brain.
“I love you, Brooke.” His voice deepened as he said the words, and something dark and powerful flashed in his eyes. “I’ve felt empty and hollow every second I’ve been without you. All I could think about is coming to see you, to hold you in my arms, and beg you to forgive my cruel behavior. When I thought I might have made you pregnant I panicked about making our lives more complicated than they already are.”
He hesitated, frowned slightly, and looked away. Brooke’s stomach turned over. Doubts crept back into her mind. Maybe he was just here trying to “do the right thing” in case she was pregnant. Her hands grew cold inside the cocoon of his fingers.
“Brooke, I want to marry you.” His eyes met hers again, with a jolt. “I want to have children with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” His words, spoken fast and gruff, wrapped around her and swirled through her mind. Did she imagine them? Was this some kind of crazy dream or delusion? It couldn’t possibly be happening, right here in her living room, on an ordinary weekday morning.
Could it?
“Brooke, are you okay?”
“I…I don’t know.” She searched his face. His strong features were taut with emotion. “What did you say?” Her ears must be deceiving her.
One of his dimples appeared. “I said I want to marry you.” His eyes twinkled. “You, Brooke Nichols, and me, RJ Kincaid, getting married.”
She drew in a ragged breath. He wanted to marry her? Her heart soared, then her excitement screeched to a halt again. Better clear the air. “Is this because I might be pregnant?”
Behind Boardroom Doors Page 14