“So...” Felicia pushed a wayward piece of hair from her face. “What’s going on? By the look of those beautiful roses in the background, things must be pretty darn good. He knows how much you like a unique flower. That’s a good sign...so let’s hear it, and don’t leave out any details.”
“You mean your triplet radar is off, too?” Farrah asked, laughing.
“Yes, I think Francine’s twins are interfering with our connection.”
“Thank goodness.” Farrah took a quick sip of her coffee. “It can be quite inconvenient at times.”
“Stop avoiding the question and spill before I fall asleep,” Felicia demanded, yawning.
“There’s just so much more to Robert than I ever realized. We all know he’s gorgeous, brilliant, and can make a woman—”
“TMI, sis. TMI.”
“Sorry,” she said, offering Felicia a sheepish grin. “Robert’s not that same playboy we met five years ago. The way he loves and protects his mother reminds me of how we feel about our parents. You should see them together...it’s so sweet. Did you know he designed and built her a house? Of course not, he’s so private about everything,” Farrah said, shaking her head.
“Wow...”
“What?” Farrah asked, frowning.
“Francine was right. You’re in love. Have you told him yet?”
Farrah’s shoulders dropped and she lowered her head slightly. “Not yet. I was going to last night before we got...distracted. Anyway, he hasn’t said anything yet, either.”
“But you know he does, right?” Felicia asked, the concern in her voice mirrored her facial expression.
“I think so...yes, I know he does,” Farrah said, nodding slowly.
“Good. I’m happy for you. Both of you.”
“So, you still keeping men at arm’s length?” Farrah asked with her left eyebrow raised.
“Not intentionally. I’m just busy, not to mention I’ve been on the other side of the world for the last year. Besides, most men don’t want to deal with a nerdy, twenty-eight-year-old virgin,” she said, slumping down in the bed.
“First off, you’re a successful, brilliant doctor doing top-secret research crap for the CIA. Something that doesn’t have to do with men’s inability to get it up.”
Felicia burst into laughter.
“Second,” Farrah continued. “Your virginal status is by choice. It’s not like you’re holding out for marriage or anything. Are you? Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
“No, it’s just never happened for me.” Felicia sank lower in the bed. “And at the rate I’m going, I’m going to be a successful, brilliant spinster.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Farrah chided. “As soon as you take care of this will business, we’ll work on getting you some business.”
Felicia covered her face with her pillow and laughed. “On that crazy note, I’m going to bed.”
“Well, at least you have the right idea.”
“Shut up, Farrah. I’ll call when I get to Atlanta.”
“Okay, good night. Love you,” Farrah said, smiling.
“Good morning and I love you more,” Felicia replied before ending the call.
Farrah closed her iPad, freshened up her coffee, grabbed a few more pieces of fruit and headed to her bathroom. She placed her cup on the counter, pulled her hair up and turned on the shower. Farrah stepped under the spray and began washing away the evidence of last night’s and this morning’s activities when Felicia’s words came back to her. He knows how much you like unique flowers. Yes, he truly did. It was a remark that jarred a long-buried memory.
“Good morning, Ms. Blake,” Ms. Ruthie, the sisters’ temporary assistant, greeted.
“Good morning,” Farrah replied, accepting the messages the older woman held out. “Oh, my, I just love those flowers. Are they yours?”
“Yes,” she replied, smiling.
“Gift from your husband...children?” Farrah asked.
“I don’t have any children,” she replied, breaking eye contact and putting her attention on the bright pink bouquet. “My husband sent them to me. It’s the anniversary of when we first met.”
“That’s so sweet,” Farrah said as she flipped through her messages.
“Thank you. I know this is the last day I’m covering Paul’s desk, but I couldn’t stand to be apart from them. My husband had to go through a lot of trouble to get them for me. I tried to tell him it wasn’t necessary, but he insisted.”
“I don’t blame you,” Farrah said as she examined the bouquet. “They’re beautiful and different. Do you mind my asking what kind they are?”
“Not at all,” she replied, taking one of them from the base. “They’re actually from a plant that blooms in late summer, so they had to be special-ordered and flown in. It’s called Ruby Spice, although my husband calls it the Ruby Lee...after me,” she proudly explained.
Farrah’s hold on the soap failed and it landed on the porcelain with a solid thud. “Oh, my God... Ruby Lee.”
Chapter 24
Robert walked into the gray, windowless concrete room that the team often used for information-gathering sessions, as he called them, to find a rumple-shirted, blue-jeans-wearing Butch Johnson pacing the room. The man stopped long enough to acknowledge Robert’s presence and glare at Charles, the tall, stocky, caramel-skinned senior agent Robert had assigned to retrieve Butch from that sordid little spot in New Orleans and bring him to their offices.
“Thank you for accepting the invitation to join us. This shouldn’t take long. The sooner you answer my questions, the faster we’ll be able to get you back to the Big Easy,” Robert explained, wanting to wrap this all up in the next few minutes. Robert didn’t want to go another day without telling Farrah the truth about everything, including the fact that he loved her.
Butch stopped in his tracks and stood facing Robert with his arms folded. “Invitation,” he taunted, slanting his head slightly. He shot an accusatory glare to Charles and pointed at him. “That body builder wannabe wearing your uniform showed up to my place and told me I had five minutes to get into his vehicle or he’d handcuff me and drag me out by my hair,” he said, dropping his arms. “I’ve been stuck in this godforsaken room for nearly twelve hours. Does that sound like a damn invitation to you?”
Robert turned and faced Charles. “Really?”
“What?” Charles shrugged. “You told me to get here right away, no matter what.”
“I meant to offer him a payment for his time,” Robert explained.
Meeks entered the room just in time to hear Butch’s complaint and Robert’s response. “I see you have everything under control as usual,” he said, leaning back against the door.
“Somebody said something about money?” Butch spoke up, his anger seeming to dissipate.
Charles looked at both Robert and Meeks. “He’s had bathroom breaks and he’s been fed,” he explained.
Robert turned back toward Butch and gestured to the chair across from the door. “Have a seat.”
“I’m fine, thanks,” he said, standing again with his arms folded over a bulky chest. “What’s this about money?”
“I apologize for the confusion. We’ll reimburse you for your time and inconvenience. Please sit.” Robert once again gestured toward the chair.
“I’m cool,” he said, waving off the request.
“When we were in New Orleans, you told us you were the middle man for Ruby Lee.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Butch said.
“What you failed to tell us was that Ruby Lee doesn’t really exist,” Robert said.
Butch’s eyes widened slightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insisted.
“Oh, but I think you do,” Robert countered, cornering the table and mov
ing past Charles until he stood in front of Butch. He was trying hard to keep his anger under control. “Ruby Lee isn’t in anybody’s database or on anybody’s radar. And that account number you gave us led to one of our very own accounts.”
“Maybe Ruby Lee worked for your company like Alexia did,” Butch replied, not bothering to keep the sarcasm from his voice.
Meeks frowned at the suggestion but remained silent.
“Did you not hear the man?” Charles asked, scowling at Butch. “Ruby Lee doesn’t exist.”
“I think I’ll take that seat after all,” Butch said, pulling out the chair and sitting down. Robert sat on the edge of the table in front of him.
Their guest sighed. “Look, all I know is someone calling themselves Ruby Lee contacted me about the job and putting them together with Alexia. They wired me two hundred and fifty thousand dollars to make the connection and from that point on, Alexia handled the specifics of the job with Ruby Lee directly.”
“Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars,” Charles said, shaking his head, his disbelief clear. “...for a connection?”
“And the forger, how did she connect with whoever did the work?” Meeks asked.
Butch hesitated before saying, “I...I don’t know.”
Robert leaned forward and stared into Butch’s eyes. “I’m losing my patience...and when I lose my patience, Charles loses his. When that happens, things won’t work out well for you. Who’s the forger?”
“I swear I don’t know who she used,” he insisted. “She rejected everybody I tried to set her up with. She thought I was an idiot for thinking any of the people I offered up were any good. She said she’d take care of it. Apparently she has her own people.”
“Her own forger?” Robert replied, looking back at Meeks.
“What did she mean by that?” Charles asked, moving closer to the table.
“I don’t know,” Butch shrugged. “I just assumed she already had someone.”
“Did you ever meet this Ruby Lee in person?” Robert asked.
“Just once, to get Alexia’s final payment.”
“Can you describe her?” Meeks asked, crossing his arms.
“Not really. She wore a baseball hat, sunglasses, and she had a really great body.”
“Wonderful. That can be anybody,” Robert grumbled, rubbing his face with the back of his hand.
“Do you remember what she drove...a plate number perhaps?” Meeks inquired.
Butch smirked. “Yeah, a new red Mercedes, and the letters on the temporary plates were R-E-D.”
“How can you be so sure?” Robert asked, with a puckered brow.
“Because I remember thinking how funny it was that a curly-haired redhead was driving a red car with the letters R-E-D on the plates,” Butch explained, grinning.
“What?” Meeks snapped, pushing himself off the door.
Robert turned to face him. “That has to be a coincidence.”
* * *
Farrah entered her office to find Francine staring out the window, waiting for her. Her sister looked really sleek in a sleeveless deep green maternity dress that brought out the green in her eyes. “Good, you’re here.” For a minute, Farrah felt underdressed, wearing their company’s standard uniform. “You know, we really should have had a maternity uniform made for you.”
“Funny. Very funny. You said it was important. What’s up?”
“You look great, by the way.”
“Now who’s being a comedian?” Francine shot back.
“Have a seat,” Farrah said, gesturing to one of the chairs across from her desk.
Francine sat down and Farrah took the chair beside her. “What’s going on, sis? Did something happen between you and Robert?”
In spite of the news she was about to share, Farrah couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. “Yes, but that’s not what this is about,” she replied.
“Then what is this about?”
“Do you remember when we first joined the firm? You were an agent and I was fresh out of law school,” Farrah reminded.
“Of course I do. Daddy was both proud and scared.”
They shared a laugh.
“Yes, he was,” Farrah nodded. “Remember when we had that floating admin pool and everyone’s assistant had to cover for each other?”
“Yeah, Paul hated that, too. Why?”
“There was a lady about mom’s age, shoulder-length sandy hair. Her name was Ruthie Lee Rutherford. Remember her?”
Francine’s gaze narrowed on her sister. “Vaguely, why?”
“I think she might be our Ruby Lee aka Lee Rugby.”
Francine’s eyes widened. “What?”
“I think, somehow, some way, she’s connected to all of this.”
Francine gave a dismissive wave. “No way. I’m sure Butch Johnson would have noticed if he was dealing with an older woman. He certainly would have told us that, too.”
“You didn’t meet him. I have a feeling he wouldn’t give up anything over the bare minimum. Besides, Alexia said Ruby Lee didn’t have anything we could hold over her. Maybe that’s because she’s older and doesn’t have anyone.”
“Everyone has someone,” Francine insisted.
“Ms. Ruthie didn’t have any children. Although, she does have a husband...or at least she did.”
“Who has a husband?” Paul asked as he walked into the office holding three coffee mugs. “Two coffees and one hot chocolate.”
“Perfect timing,” Farrah said, accepting the cup he held out to her. “Paul, do you remember Ruthie Lee Rutherford? She was an assistant in that temporary pool we had about five years ago.”
“Yeah, I remember Ms. Ruthie.” Paul blew into his coffee. “Poor thing. But I think you’re wrong. She never had a husband.”
“What? Why do you say that?” Farrah asked, looking up at him. “She told me she had a husband. He sent her flowers. I saw them.”
“I know. We all saw the flowers and gifts, but they weren’t from her husband. That’s just what she told everyone. She was a little off, but it had to be hell being someone’s mistress for over twenty years, only to have him die on you,” Paul said before taking a sip of his coffee as he leaned against Farrah’s desk. “Although rumor has it he left her pretty well off. Too bad she can’t really enjoy it.”
Farrah and Francine shared a questioning look before turning their glares on Paul.
“What?” Farrah asked.
Paul placed his cup on the desk, then looked at both women. “You two really don’t know?”
Both women shook their heads.
“Ruthie Lee Rutherford was the longtime mistress of former executive...turned board member...turned vendor...wait for it...Ted Jefferson.”
“Ted Jefferson!” Farrah leaned forward and placed her cup on the desk next to Paul’s. “The same Ted Jefferson that’s suing us?”
“Actually it’s his son who’s suing us,” Francine clarified.
Farrah glared at her sister. “Semantics.”
“Yep,” Paul said, shaking his head. “The same Ted Jefferson who embezzled money and tried to steal plans for several of our new security systems to cover his gambling debts.”
“That’s why we fired him. Dad would never say why, not even when Ted died. He wouldn’t even discuss it when his son filed this ridiculous suit. He said it was irrelevant,” Francine added.
“Irrelevant... How can he being a thief be irrelevant?”
Francine shrugged. “You know what Dad says. Forgiven misdeeds should be left in the past.”
“And if I remember correctly, Ruthie Lee Rutherford left the company right after he did,” Farrah confirmed.
“Yep,” Paul replied.
“Hell, if she thought her man was treate
d unfairly, she might want some type of revenge against the company,” Farrah stated.
“Wait... Your Dad got him help, and he repaid every dime he stole.”
“That must be why there’s no record of him ever being arrested. Dad made sure the board never pressed charges,” Francine theorized, taking a healthy sip of her hot chocolate.
“He also cleaned up his act and went on to build a successful construction company,” Paul confirmed.
“If I remember correctly, we did business with him for years until he got sick and passed,” Francine offered. “What do either of them have to do with any of this?”
“I don’t know. What I do know is that a slightly eccentric Ruthie Lee Rutherford, a woman that had a great deal of access when she was here and could’ve had a motive to want to do her former lover’s company harm, told me that her husband called her Ruby Lee after her favorite flower.” Farrah held up her right hand and hunched her shoulders. “Now, that can’t be a coincidence, and I think it’s worth checking into.”
Chapter 25
“There’s no way she could have had anything to do with any of this,” Robert said, pulling out his cell to send the incoming call to voice mail. “She’s behind bars and that’s where she’ll stay.”
“Who are you talking about?” Charles asked.
“A crazy old girlfriend of Meeks’s,” Robert replied.
“Jasmine Black,” Meeks said, his face twisted as though he was in pain. “Her obsession for me took it to a whole new level of crazy. From bailing out and buying a gun for someone we’d just put away so he could kill Francine to infiltrating our company to keep tabs on us, and from hiding behind and controlling stalkers to actually trying to kill Francine herself.”
After Jasmine’s attempts were foiled, she’d been sent to jail and was currently awaiting trial.
“We both know how resourceful she can be, not to mention vengeful. She could have easily coordinated something like this,” Meeks insisted, pacing the room.
“But whoever pulled this off had to have been planning this for quite some time, long before Jasmine ever came on the scene.” Robert reached to stop his friend’s movements. “Think about it. They planted someone in our organization to steal that info, and then planted bogus documents that would guarantee we’d lose the lawsuit, costing us millions. Their motive had to be something pretty significant. No offense, Meeks, but wanting you back in her life and her bed just doesn’t seem like it’s a big enough reason.”
Seducing the Heiress Page 15