by Joanne Rock
“That’s a lot for you. For any one person.” It also said a hell of a lot about the burdens she carried. No wonder she was a fearless climber. Real life had thrown her plenty of other obstacles.
“There are more and more resources out there. Even if I can’t get as much aid from her doctor as I would like, at least we have access to more programs as social awareness of the condition grows.” She glanced his way just as his all-terrain vehicle, completely covered in a mound of snow, finally came into view at the trailhead. “Is that yours?”
“Yes.” He offered her a smile, grateful to be close to home again but regretting not getting to learn more about her while she’d been sharing her story with him. “We’re almost home free.”
Reaching the vehicle, they worked side by side to brush off the worst of the snow. He noticed April gave herself completely to the task; apparently she was done talking for the day. While he understood that urge to shut down about family, he couldn’t help but ask one more question.
“What set you on your career path? Financial forensics seems fairly specialized.” Once he could open a door of his ATV freely, he withdrew a compact snow shovel and dug around the wheels, just enough to get them going.
They’d be fine once the ATV was in motion, but he needed some space around it to gain traction and momentum first.
She smoothed her glove along the top of a tire, swiping off the snow with her hand since there was only one shovel. “I received an accounting degree but worked for a PI in college to make some extra cash. I sat on stakeouts, followed cheaters, took some pictures...just legwork. Being around his office helped me to see my path.”
Standing up straight, Weston moved to the last tire as his brain shuffled through the new information.
“Now you follow money instead of people.” He could see where the order of finances would appeal to someone who grew up the way she’d described.
“People can try to create a smokescreen with their finances, but in the end, the numbers don’t lie.”
Her assessment of her job stuck with him as he loaded their packs in the vehicle. He’d heard the note of pride in her voice. It was obvious she gained professional satisfaction from succeeding at her work. Which only underscored his certainty that she wouldn’t let this case go.
Opening the passenger-side door for her, he asked, “Are you ready to return to civilization?”
“Yes, please.” She pulled off her hat and goggles, her blue eyes a clear, deep sea as she peered up at him.
Memories of waking up to her in his arms returned. The awareness of her hadn’t retreated, even with the reminder that her work was going to be a thorn in his side.
“And you’re still staying at the main lodge?” He knew for a fact she hadn’t checked out. But he was curious what she’d say about her plans moving forward. As much as he resented her investigation, her work was being financed by Devon Salazar, Alonzo’s son. So Weston preferred not to ask her to leave outright.
Ideally, she would give up on her own without anyone at Mesa Falls having to cross swords with the Salazar heirs.
“I am.” She stepped into the ATV. “I’ll be at Mesa Falls Ranch until I find the answers I need.”
Grinding his teeth, he closed her door, then slid into the driver’s seat and fired up the engine, trying to figure out what that meant for him.
He really should be keeping track of her progress on the investigation since he had a vested interest in keeping his former mentor out of the public eye. If April uncovered Alonzo’s secrets—and he was beginning to think she wouldn’t give up until she did just that—Weston needed to be there for damage control. Or to spin the story more favorably.
Just the thought of it made his shoulders tense up again.
He debated his next move as he drove them down the mountain. He passed his house, pointing it out to April on the way to the main lodge. By the time he arrived at her accommodations and switched off the engine, he knew he couldn’t return to his old way of dealing with her by ignoring her. There was no denying they’d forged some kind of connection on that mountain. If anything, he was already thinking about what it would be like to wake up next to her again. In a much warmer bed.
Mind made up, and intrigued by the prospect of seeing her again, he opened his door and retrieved her backpack before coming around to assist her. The snow wasn’t as deep here, telling him the storm hadn’t been nearly as bad in the valley as it had been on the peaks.
“I can’t thank you enough for coming to my aid last night, Weston,” she said as she took his hand and allowed him to help her from the low vehicle.
“You can if you have dinner with me tonight.” He liked the plan even more when he saw a momentary flash of feminine interest in her eyes.
Awareness.
The expression was fleeting, though, quickly replaced by a nervous nibble on her lip as she reached for her bag.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, since my investigation is sure to put us at odds again.” She hugged her backpack closer.
Did she feel like she needed a barrier with him? The idea gave him pause. He sure as hell didn’t want to make her nervous.
“I understand.” He wouldn’t pressure her. She’d had an exhausting couple of days, made more stressful by whatever crisis was happening at home. “But you know where to find me, and I promise no more threatening to have security cart you off if you want to talk.”
A small smile played around her lips at the reminder of their previous meeting.
“Even if I ask nosy questions?”
“I think we’ve passed that point in our relationship after last night.” He wasn’t going to pretend something significant hadn’t happened up there. “You have a job to do, and I respect that.”
That didn’t mean he had to like it.
“And you still want to have dinner?” she clarified, her professional mind clearly at work on the problem.
Sensing victory, he was surprised at the rush of pleasure he felt at the idea of spending an evening with her. She’d gotten under his skin fast.
“I do.” He relished the idea of seeing her relaxed by candlelight. Last night had been too anxiety-filled for both of them. “We deserve to toast our success in weathering the storm.”
Just thinking about something happening to her made his gut go cold again.
“In that case, I will have dinner with you, Weston.” She smiled, and he caught a glimpse of another side of her that he hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t deliberately flirtatious, but it was definitely aware.
A blast of heated attraction banished the chill of a moment prior, and he couldn’t wait for tonight.
Four
Revising her case leads in one of the ranch’s public lounges that afternoon, April should have been exhausted from the night spent on the mountain and the climb down afterward. Instead, she felt a renewed energy for solving her case as she sipped her chilled seltzer with a twist of lime and scrolled through notes on her tablet. The lounge was quiet at this hour, with most of the guests engaged in outdoor activities in the waning daylight. A country love song twanged through the speaker system while a fire crackled in the stone hearth close to April’s quiet booth table. She’d been here for over an hour, trying not to think too much about her upcoming date with Weston.
An impossible task, and no doubt the reason behind her feeling of restless energy. Her thoughts kept returning to their time together. And the promise of seeing him again for dinner. She wanted to believe that she’d agreed to the date to further her investigation. To see if she could learn more about Alonzo Salazar while she tried to unravel the mystery of Weston’s loyalty to the man.
But she knew that her attraction to Weston played into the decision as much as—or more than—anything. If it had been purely physical, maybe she could have ignored the draw of the man. But he’d risked his own neck in a snowst
orm to make sure she was safe. He’d helped her even though he’d been doing his damnedest to stay away. How could she not be intrigued and enticed?
With an effort, she pulled her thoughts away from Weston to focus on her leads. She set her glass of water on the cork coaster while she scanned an online forum devoted to Hollywood. There was an active discussion of actress Tabitha Barnes’s recent revelation that Alonzo Salazar was the man behind the pseudonym A. J. Sorensen, the author of the book Hollywood Newlyweds. A book that had destroyed Tabitha’s family. For maximum impact and press exposure, she’d made the announcement at a celebrity-studded gala that had taken place at Mesa Falls Ranch—the kickoff event for the ranch’s expansion from private corporate retreat to a more public luxury ranch destination. April had been on-site then for the start of her investigation into Alonzo Salazar’s finances, and the revelation that her target was the reclusive author had changed the trajectory of her case significantly. Alonzo’s son Devon Salazar had hired her firm to find out where his father’s money had disappeared, and the case had gotten decidedly thornier after Tabitha Barnes’s big reveal.
“Ms. Stephens?” A feminine voice made her look up.
An auburn-haired young woman dressed in the khakis and white sweater that marked her as a ranch employee hovered near her elbow. Her gold name tag read Nicole.
“Yes?” She was surprised the staffer knew her name. Momentary panic for her mother bubbled though her. Had something gone wrong back home?
“I’m sorry to interrupt.” The woman glanced over her shoulder, as if to make sure no one would overhear them, eyes darting swiftly around the lounge before she lowered her voice. “I’ve contacted your office a couple of times to try to share some information. For your investigation?”
Puzzled, April shuffled the pieces in her mind, realizing there was no crisis at home. How had a ranch worker come to learn about her case? Turning off her tablet screen without breaking eye contact, April gestured toward the seat across from her, inviting the woman to sit down.
“I never received that message.” She wondered why. Had her office not forwarded the information? Or was the woman lying? “But you’re welcome to join me.”
She’d take any lead she could get at this point. Alonzo Salazar had employed a nominee service through a law office that allowed him to be publicly anonymous, financially speaking. Although the service should have expired after his death, it was possible he’d paid for it in advance, since the law office hadn’t broken their silence yet on where his funds from the book had gone.
The young woman hesitated. “The staff aren’t supposed to dine in here, but maybe if I just sit for a moment.”
She lowered herself into the booth, still glancing around the mostly empty lounge.
“Why don’t you start by telling me your name?” April prodded, used to reluctant parties giving her information in small doses. People were often worried about being implicated in a crime when money was being used in questionable ways.
“Nicole... Smith.” The smallest hesitation before giving the common surname told April it was most likely false. The woman toyed with the name tag on her sweater for a moment before slipping it off. “I’ve only worked here since the start of the New Year. I came to Mesa Falls Ranch after seeing the gala on the news.”
“The ranch really put itself on the map after that.” April smiled warmly to encourage confidences. “I haven’t seen any celebrities here this week, unfortunately.”
Nicole nodded quickly, speaking in a rush. “I was most interested in what Tabitha Barnes said about the real identity of the guy who wrote Hollywood Newlyweds.”
“And how did you find out I’m interested in that too?” April pressed, since Nicole seemed ready to get down to business with this discussion.
“I tried getting in touch with Devon Salazar once I learned Alonzo’s name.” Nicole spun the gold name tag on the table. “And after a few phone calls, he suggested I contact you.”
Interesting. That told April she was both persistent and—possibly—had something worthwhile to share.
“Did you do that before or after you took a job here?”
Nicole’s gaze flicked up to hers. Held. “Right around the same time. It was easy getting hired on here with so many new job openings after the gala.”
The buzzing in April’s ears told her she was getting closer to answers. Clearly Nicole was serious about digging deeper into Alonzo’s mysterious past.
“You’ve got my full attention.” April forced herself to stay perfectly still, keeping her body language relaxed even though she was on the edge of her proverbial seat. “What information were you hoping to share with me?”
Nicole squared her shoulders. Leaning closer, she lowered her voice even more.
“I might know where Alonzo’s money has been going,” she confided, her red hair spilling onto the table as it fell forward.
April’s pulse sped at the possible lead.
Finally.
She waited until Nicole spoke again. “I think he’s been financing the education and upbringing of my thirteen-year-old nephew.”
* * *
Nicole Cruz had taken a calculated risk sharing her family’s secrets with a virtual stranger.
But she was running out of resources and needed help fast to continue her quest for the truth. Right now, it seemed like financial forensics expert April Stephens was her best hope of solving the mystery of the paternity of Nicole’s sister’s son.
When Lana died of an aneurysm six months ago, her secrets had died with her. Including the identity of Matthew’s father. Even though a mysterious benefactor had pitched in to pay for the boy’s private schooling—a boarding school with the excellent resources a bright and promising autistic preteen required to thrive—that didn’t cover all the expenses associated with Matthew’s care. Not that Nicole regretted the sacrifices she’d made for him. Not for an instant. She wouldn’t trade the joys of having Mattie in her life for anything. But now that Lana was gone, Nicole wasn’t inclined to let the boy’s father off the hook for his responsibility the way her sister had. Matthew deserved his father’s support—financially, if nothing else.
And her only lead to his father?
Alonzo Salazar.
“What evidence do you have to support the theory?” April asked, the picture of elegant composure in her navy blue blazer and pale blue cashmere sweater underneath it.
With her perfect blond curls spiraling around her shoulders, the financial forensics investigator stood out from the other ranch guests in their expensive cowboy boots and brand-new Stetsons. April Stephens looked like the kind of woman who didn’t allow herself to get rattled. Her understated makeup was pretty without being showy. Everything about her announced that she was smart and efficient.
Or maybe that was wishful thinking. Nicole needed a lifeline if she was going to solve the question of who Matthew’s father was before the boy’s spring break. Once Mattie returned to their San Jose home next month, Nicole needed to be back in California. Her spur-of-the-moment ranch job would come to an end, and with it, her best chance of getting close to the truth. For now, she tried to share enough details with April to entice her to follow the story, but she wasn’t willing to give her real name yet. Or Lana’s, for that matter.
“My sister—Matthew’s mother—never named the boy’s father before she passed away last fall. But toward the end, she told me not to worry about Matthew because his education was being paid for. When I pressed her for details, because she was—” She had to stop her story suddenly, the memory of her sister’s last moments causing a shock of a pain so sharp it took her breath away.
She blinked, tried to see past the hurt, and the ache only sharpened. To her mortification, tears welled.
“Let me get you a drink.” April rushed out of the booth and hurried to the bar, demanding a water from the older guy who was reo
rganizing the beer glasses.
Nicole was grateful for the reprieve. She took the moment to surreptitiously steal the linen napkin from an unused place setting so she could dab at her eyes. By the time April returned, she had herself under control again.
“My apologies,” she managed between sips of the water April gave her. “And thank you for this.”
“Of course. I’m so sorry for the loss of your sister.” The words sounded heartfelt, and Nicole was grateful for them.
She’d spent so much time reeling from all the life changes since Lana’s death that she hadn’t really grieved. That was, she grieved all the time, since losing Lana was like losing a limb. But she hadn’t ever given in to the need to weep over the unfairness of it all. Maybe she feared once she started crying, she wouldn’t stop.
Whatever the reason, she couldn’t afford to take that time now. Not when she was finally sitting across from someone who might be able to help her secure a better, more stable future for Matthew.
“Thank you.” Sliding the cut-crystal glass to one side, she met April’s clear blue gaze. “Shortly before she passed, my sister made a mention of A. J. Sorensen providing for her son. At the time, I thought she was delirious or that I hadn’t understood her properly.”
In truth, her sister had simply tapped the cover of the book Hollywood Newlyweds since it had been on the nightstand of her hospital room. So Nicole thought she hadn’t really known what she was pointing at.
“What made you change your mind?” April prodded at the same moment that Nicole’s shift supervisor poked her head into the bar, her disapproving glare falling on Nicole.
She needed to get back to work. Her break from her desk job in guest services had ended five minutes ago. And technically, she wasn’t supposed to spend her break in the hospitality areas. So she talked fast.