Pimpernel

by Sheralyn Pratt

  No, Claire was an adult now—committing felonies and everything. When it came time to make a name for herself, Natasha Ramsey would have no say in how things played out. Claire would do it on her terms and with the advice of a much more qualified partner: Professor Eastman.

  In the meantime, she would politely pick at her salad while her mom started into her usual tirade against her father’s latest “lady friend.” But all the while Claire’s eyes were on the second hand of the clock on the wall behind her mother, counting down the seconds the evidentiary hearing tomorrow when all charges against Ryan would be dropped.

  Chapter 14

  When a message popped up on Jack’s phone, he hoped to see Kali’s name attached. No dice. It was Ren’s number sending out a group message.

  Ren: Finally got into that closet safe of hers. Might have something.

  Margot: Bring it to the meeting tonight. Be advised: Claire is currently gambling in the casino. The woman has a mean poker game.

  Really? Jack hadn’t seen that coming. He was still processing the implications as he typed his reply. Our girl is full of surprises.

  Margot: So is her family. More on that later.

  Good, Jack typed. Take the afternoon off.

  Margot: You’re funny.

  Ren: I’ll take you up on that.

  Margot: You work for me, Ren. See you in 20.

  Ren: Living the dream…

  Chapter 15

  After what might very well be last awkward brunch with her mother, Claire didn’t take the residential elevator down to the private lobby for permanent residents of the hotel. She rode the hotel elevator down to the casino and traded five thousand cash for poker chips.

  A girl couldn’t go on the lam without cash, and while Claire’s family was rich, her allowance in college wasn’t extravagant. She’d only been able to pull together five thousand in the past month. Now it was time to use her people-reading skills to grow that amount.

  Claire hadn’t dared gamble multiple weeks in a row, lest she be flagged by security as a suspected card counter or scammer. Claire didn’t win games like poker by counting cards. She played the person, just like she did in those contract negotiations that had made Mr. SUV so fraudulently rich.

  Still, casinos didn’t look kindly on winners. Claire knew that much. So after winning $46,265 in chips in four hours at the casino, she cashed out. Security was beginning to hover and get curious about her continued luck. She’d been hoping to earn more before they honed in on her, but it was best to cash out before she landed on any lists that might be shared with other casinos. She might have to do this again another day. Best to keep the slate clean.

  Hopefully it wouldn’t matter either way. $46,263 may not be enough to live on for long, but it was enough to get out of the country with Ryan and start figuring things out from there—well, minus the rent she should leave with Daniel for bailing on him so unexpectedly.

  She wished there was a way to warn him that she was leaving, but it was best that he not know anything at all, just in case. Money would have to do as both her notice of vacancy and a silent thank you for the fact that he’d taught her that she really could live with another person—a man, even—and be totally fine. That was a good confidence builder, considering she and Ryan would likely be sharing four walls and a roof fairly soon. If she could be with Daniel off her meds, then she could be with Ryan after getting back on them. It could be done.

  It would be done.

  Claire rehearsed the investor numbers three times on the way home from the casino. She still had it all in her mental vault. Even better? The maintenance workers at her apartments had edged the lawn while she was gone, so it was no longer creeping across the sidewalk. Other than that, everything was as it should be until Claire came within sight of her front door and noticed something was off. Her mental map didn’t match up with what she saw until she realized two items lay in front of her door: a single red rose and an envelope.

  At first, it didn’t make sense. Then it did.

  Nick, she thought, her heart racing at the thought, but not in a romantic way. Her current rhythm fell more in the fight-or-flight category. Still, she forced herself to walk up to the door.

  Pick it up, she told herself.

  Her body remained statue still as her mind line-listed dozens of reasons she shouldn’t and couldn’t touch the flower and letter.

  “Stop it,” she muttered, forcing herself to bend down and pick up the items. Yet the anxiety remained when she opened the door and removed her shoes. Air on F String played from Daniel’s room, signaling that he was sewing.

  Good. Maybe he wouldn’t see any of this and hound her about it.

  She didn’t need to open the envelope to know the basic idea of what would be said inside. It seemed impossible that Nick could have had a good time with her last night, but he would probably say that’s exactly what happened and ask her out again.

  “Oooooh!” Daniel cooed from the kitchen area, startling her. She’d thought he was in his room. “Flowers already? Someone is smitten!”

  Claire tried for a smile. “I guess.”

  He wiped his hands on a cloth and skip-walked over. “So? What does loverboy have to say?”

  She held up the unopened envelope. “Don’t call him that. And I haven’t looked yet.”

  Daniel’s lips pursed out playfully. “Maybe he lurves you. Maybe he wants to kiss you.”

  “Stop,” she moaned. “I’m not looking to date right now.” Or ever.

  He rolled his eyes. “It’s a date, not marriage, honey. All it means is that someone treats you like a princess for a few hours a week.” He flipped away non-existent locks of hair from his face with his hand. “Trust me, it’s fabulous.”

  Claire shook her head. “Not my idea of fun.”

  He clicked his tongue in dismay, plucking the envelope from her hand. “And love letters? Do you shun those as well?”

  Daniel popped open the envelope and pulled out a piece of spiral-bound notebook paper. He held the paper between two fingers like a dead bug that needed to be transported to the trash.

  “Heaven help you, babe. Nick is so straight.”

  Claire’s brain went to work, mapping all the frayed parts as Daniel unfolded the paper to show her the few short lines of cat scratch inside.

  “Dear Claire,” he began, apparently able to decipher it. “I enjoyed getting to know you better last night. You’re everything I thought you’d be and more. I’d love to see you again or take you to a show here in Vegas. Your choice. Looking forward to seeing you again. Nick.”

  “No,” Claire said as the air seemed to disappear from the room.

  Daniel tilted his head thoughtfully. “That actually wasn’t as bad as I thought. I’d only change like 50% of it to make it not so horrible.”

  Claire shook her head emphatically. “I’m not going out with him again.”

  “Not even for a free show? Those are pricey around these parts.”

  “Don’t care,” she said, walking past him and into the kitchen. She may not be a fan of roses, but that didn’t mean she should deny this one water. First step: pluck off the bruised petal.

  “He likes you,” Daniel cooed.

  “He’s delusional,” Claire replied, grabbing a pair of scissors from the kitchen to snip off the base of the stem. When she noticed the towel Jack had just used wasn’t hanging straight, she fixed it before finding a vase.

  “Everyone’s delusional when it comes to the falling part of love, honey,” he said on a wistful sigh. “You have to ride the delusions to the point where you’re in love enough to deal with the real-life issues.”

  Claire arched a doubtful brow. “You know this from personal experience?”

  Daniel grinned. “Okay, guilty. I like to live in the delusional zone then run before things get real. Sue me.”

  Claire settled on shaking her head as she picked a small vase and filled it with nine ounces of water. Three plus three plus three. “I let last n
ight happen so I would have something to tell my mother at brunch today.”

  “Aha! Now you’re starting to sound like a woman. Brava! Baby steps.”

  “Ha-ha,” Claire deadpanned, placing the vase on the counter and making sure it was positioned just right. It was time to redirect the conversation. “I see you’re wearing your measuring tape like a tie. What are you working on?”

  “A pinstripe suit worthy of James Bond.”

  “A gay James Bond?”

  “Of course. Which is why I’ll be wearing it,” he said with a bit of pomp. “At least, I will be once I choose between notch and peak lapels. I mean, do I want to go more Eddie Redmayne or Ed Westwick?”

  Claire had no idea who he was talking about but figured it wouldn’t make much difference if she did. “It’s a big decision.”

  “It is!” he said emphatically, leaning against the counter as if suddenly exhausted. “I’ve cut out both designs in muslin, but I just can’t decide. I might have to make two jackets.”

  “That’s one way to address the problem.”

  “Right?” he agreed. “I’d be doing that this very moment if my fabric store didn’t insist on being closed on Sunday.”

  “The gall,” she teased.

  He caught the sarcasm. “Fine. Mock my pain. We’ll see how sympathetic I am the next time you’re dismayed about something.”

  “I guess we’ll see if I survive,” she teased, even as a pit formed in the base of her stomach as she realized this might be the last full conversation she ever had with Daniel if she and Ryan had to run tomorrow. The realization made her sadder than she would have imagined.

  All her life, Claire had wished for a friend like Daniel—someone who got her. Someone who made things easy. Last night with Nick had been a perfect example. Claire had probably said a hundred words the entire evening, yet Nick was now writing love notes. There was no way that would be happening if Claire had gone out with Nick on her own. She likely would have spent the majority of the evening in the bathroom washing her hands while strangers gave her dirty looks and reminded her that they were living in a desert where water conservation was a thing.

  One more day, she told herself, although the thought didn’t bring the same relief as it had before.

  Tomorrow all charges against Ryan would be dropped at the evidentiary hearing, which meant they needed to act fast. Even if she and Ryan stayed in town a few more nights, it wouldn’t be safe to come back here. She wouldn’t get to say goodbye.

  Feeling torn for the first time, Claire reached out and placed her hand over Daniel’s. As their hands touched, the oddest sensation washed over her. Her skin suddenly felt more sensitive and the back of her neck grew hot. In her chest, her heart felt it started up a game of jump rope or something. It felt odd.

  “I want to thank you,” she said, ignoring the off-beat rhythm of her heart.

  “Me?” he asked, eyebrows popping up. “Whatever for?”

  She meant to joke that she was grateful to have a roommate that didn’t mind living with someone who was a bit neurotic, but she didn’t want Daniel to see her that way just then. “I’ve been kind of a mess since…well, since you’ve met me, basically. Believe it or not, I’m not normally like this.”

  He tipped his head like a puppy hearing a new sound. “Like what?”

  Great. Now she was blushing. What was going on? “Insane.”

  Did she just say insane? Because that was so much better than neurotic? True, she often felt insane, but it wasn’t a word she liked to say out loud.

  Daniel shrugged dismissively. “It’s no big thing.”

  “But it is,” she said, her mind thinking back over the past couple of weeks to all the times he’d stepped in as an active buffer for her. He hadn’t run away like any normal person might. And who would have blamed him if he had? No one.

  Yet he’d stuck around. He’d been a friend. “Well, I’m glad you think so, but I really have had some crazy moments. You have to admit that.”

  He smiled. “Okay, there might have been a time or two when you crossed the weird line, but that’s all good among friends, right?”

  Claire laughed. She couldn’t help it. “Well, things should be getting better soon. I promise. Things have been crazy since I moved in, but they’re about to get easier”…when I leave.

  He flipped his hand under hers and gave it a squeeze, surprising her with the firmness of his grasp. Must be all that hand stitching he did. “Good for you, honey. But I’m your roommate either way—on both the good days and the bad. Got it?”

  She squeezed back, trying not to think what was to come. “Got it.”

  They stared at each other before Daniel grimaced. “Would it totally ruin this moment if I washed my hands now?” His nose wrinkled. “Your hands a little sweaty.”

  She looked at their clasped hands, slightly surprised that she hadn’t noticed the slight moisture between them first. Between her flushing face, hot neck, and bouncing heart, the growing heat between their hands hadn’t registered in a negative way. How odd.

  “Not even a little,” she said, pulling her hand away so they could both go wash their hands.

  Chapter 16

  Ren and Margot both had their game faces on when Jack joined them around the conference table. It didn’t matter that it was a Sunday night. Their line of work didn’t take weekends or holidays off if that’s when things were going down.

  And things were definitely going down.

  Together they watched the conversation between Claire and Daniel from the camera in the living room. Margot paused it right before they went wash their hands.

  Jack got straight to the point. “Is there anything happening in the near future besides Eastman’s hearing?”

  “On official calendars, no,” Margot said. “But we’re blind when it comes to her investor meetings and what happened with her mom at brunch today.”

  “But we know what happened after brunch,” Ren said, face grim. “Something changed today.”

  “Maybe they’re cashing out,” Margot said, even though her expression showed some doubt.

  “It’s a valid theory,” Jack said. “But why don’t you like it?”

  Margot chewed her lip for a moment. “Because they just popped the lid on Asia and are still closing the deal in every meeting. Pulling out now would be premature. I think they could easily keep going up to a half a billion before they start hitting turbulence.”

  “I agree,” Jack said, his mind still thinking about the casino. “And I’m still skeptical Claire and her mother are in this together. Going to the casino attracts attention, and it’s not like $46,000 is an amount of money Natasha Ramsey needs a casino to get her hands on.”

  “Agreed,” Margot said, tossing up Claire’s bank records. “I think Claire is planning on going AWOL after what we saw today.”

  “Me, too,” Ren said. “Sometime after the hearing tomorrow.”

  “Which theoretically means she thinks she knows what’s going to happen,” Jack said, eyeing the paused video of Claire and Daniel holding hands. The unguarded and trusting expression on Claire’s face as she gazed up at Daniel left Jack feeling uneasy.

  “Not likely,” Margot said. “Nothing that happens tomorrow is going to put her in a better position. We already know that Eastman is going to trial. Palms have been greased to make it so.”

  Jack stood, pacing the length of the room. “But is it possible she believes that palms have been greased the opposite direction? That Eastman is going to get off the hook and step back into his original role in the scheme?”

  Margot shook her head. “I still don’t see how that helps her. Either way, she’s still in a bind.”

  Jack gripped the back of the nearest chair and looked at the image of Claire on the screen. “We’re missing something here, you guys.”

  “Has Kali gotten back to us yet?” Ren asked, earning an eye roll from Margot.

  Jack shook his head. “Not yet. You know how she rolls on thin
gs like this.”

  “With an utter lack of team spirit?” Margot offered.

  Ren tensed, unable to let the jab pass. “She may not play well with others, but she’s really good about sharing a win. She’ll come to us when she has something. If it’s silent on her end it means she doesn’t have anything worth saying. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “Of course,” Margot snapped. “Because she can do no wrong, right?”

  “Stop!” Jack said before Ren could respond. “Let’s stick to talking about helpful things. For example, Ren, are we any closer to having any actual physical evidence against Claire?”

  Ren pulled a small notebook out of his pocket and tossed it onto the table. “This is from her closet safe. It held money, jewelry, some bonds, and this.”

  “And you took it?” Margot said, dismayed.

  “Only because I have no idea what it is,” he said. “I figured we could make a copy and I could put it back before it’s missed—if it’s missed. It could be nothing.”

  Jack leaned over the table and picked up the palm-sized notebook. Opening it, he was surprised to find no words inside, only doodles of geometric shapes.

  “What is it?” Margot asked, and in reply Jack put the touchpad in front of him into scan mode and placed the pages he was looking at face-down. Moments later, the images appeared on the large wall screen.

  “Pages and pages of this,” he said.

  Margot looked just as confused as he did. “Why would you put this in a safe with jewelry, money, and bonds?”

  “That’s a question we need to answer,” Jack said.

  “And until then?” Ren asked.

  Jack weighed his answer. “We watch how things go tomorrow at the hearing. We see if things go her way and how she responds.”

  Ren considered that. “How will we know if things go her way?”

  “She’ll show us,” Jack said with confidence. “Our girl is many things, but she’s no actress. Her reaction to events should be written all over her face.”

  Margot’s eyes narrowed in thought. “And if she’s in on the bad side of things?”