by Robin Caroll
“Are you okay?” Patsy stuck her head in the office door.
“Yeah.” Max let out a sigh and ran a hand over his hair. “Just frustrated.”
“No explanation needed.” She smiled and winked. “But you’d better hurry so you don’t miss your lunch date with Ava. I took the liberty of making y’all reservations at Vincetta’s.”
“But how…?”
Patsy’s smile widened. “I took it upon myself to tell her you’d explain missing y’all’s meeting by making it up to her at lunch. She’s meeting you there at noon.”
He bent and hugged his secretary. “I think it’s time I put in a raise for you.”
“Past due.” She chuckled and gave his arm a playful slap. “Now, get before you’re late. Mustn’t stand a lady up twice in one day—women don’t like that. Especially women like Ava Renault.”
Max grabbed his jacket and headed out the door to keep his date.
One turn and two blocks later, he whipped into the parking lot of the restaurant. He needed to tell Ava about meeting Dylan. No use in procrastinating. If he’d learned anything about Ava Renault, it was that you couldn’t plan a conversation with her. She was a surprise. Just like the night she’d snuck out of her house to tell him goodbye. He’d been about to suggest they elope, when she gave him a medallion with her name engraved on it. A medallion just like the one she had with his name on it.
He snapped his keys into his pocket and stepped from the truck. He needed to remember to get the necklace to the jeweler. A month ago, he’d broken the chain while playing racquetball at Clancy’s Gym. As he’d driven his car that day, he’d put the broken necklace into his car’s console. That he needed to get it fixed totally slipped his mind until this moment. It was the longest he’d gone without wearing it under his shirts since the night they parted. He made a mental note to get it out of the car tomorrow.
The restaurant hostess greeted him at the door and led him to a corner table where Ava sat perusing a menu.
She was as breathtaking today as she’d been fifteen years ago. Blond hair with the slightest hint of auburn mixed in, especially when the light hit it just right. Almond-shaped eyes in a haunting shade of green that was nearly impossible to describe. She caught sight of him and smiled.
His heart stuttered as he took the seat across the table from her. “I’m so sorry about this morning.”
The waiter appeared, cutting off any remark she was about to make. After taking their drink orders of sweet tea, the waiter launched into the lunch specials of spaghetti and lasagna, then rushed away.
“I hope everything’s okay.” It was a statement, but the way she said it made it sound like a question.
A pregnant pause filled the air. Tension hovered like the mist over the bayou in the early morning hours. Here it was, his prime opportunity to tell her, to explain. He took a deep breath, sucking in the strain, and gripped the linen napkin in his lap.
The waiter reappeared with their drinks. “Have you decided what you’ll be having?”
Ava ordered the Italian salad, while Max said he’d try the lasagna special. The waiter retrieved their menus and left.
“So…” Ava lifted her tea and took a sip.
“Sheriff Reed came by to ask me a couple of questions.”
She sat the glass back to the table with a clunk. “About?”
“I had a meeting with your brother the week before he was killed.” Max held his breath and studied her face for her reaction.
He wasn’t disappointed. Her beautiful eyes widened and her mouth formed an O. “You met with Dylan? Why?”
Here it was—the moment of truth. He let out his breath. “He called and asked to meet with me.”
“Whatever about?”
He swallowed against a dry mouth. “About the property Renault Hall sits on.”
She blinked slowly…once, twice, then pressed her lips together until they formed a straight line. A long moment passed before she spoke in a hushed tone. “What about it?”
“He wanted my opinion on what the property was worth.”
She arched a single, dainty eyebrow. “Really?”
Max nodded and let the words trip over themselves as he explained. When he was done, Ava said nothing, just kept staring at him with those hypnotic eyes. Her expression never wavered, not one iota.
“He never said a word to me about this. I can’t imagine what he was thinking.” Wasn’t that an understatement? Mother would’ve had a fit if she even suspected Dylan was interested in that land. Period. Maybe he wanted to sell the land because of its close proximity to where Angelina had been found? No, Charla wouldn’t hear of such. What could he have been thinking?
From what she could tell from the company’s accounting—as near as she could figure from her examination this morning—the Renault Cooperation had a very prosperous cash flow. Nothing made sense. She peered across the table. “Did he tell you why he was interested in the land’s value?”
Max lifted a casual shoulder. “He wanted to know an approximation of what I thought the land was worth. He wanted to know if I believed the value would increase if he built a house there, after tearing down the old estate.”
Now that was ludicrous. Charla would never allow a house, any house, to be built upon the property, and Dylan knew that as well as she.
“He didn’t want anyone to know what he was considering.”
It hurt that her brother hadn’t trusted her with this information, that he had instead turned to someone he’d considered an enemy. Both Dylan and Max had been raised to be competitors, and they’d complied as they grew. Little League, high school football, and now as adults, business competitors. Yet he’d trusted Max over her? Why? Something didn’t sound right.
“I don’t know why he was interested.”
The waiter delivered their meals and a basket of hot bread. The mouthwatering aroma of Italian spices wafted over their table, but Ava couldn’t even look at her salad. And then a shocking final realization stole her appetite.
Max had met with Dylan a week before he’d been shot—at the murder scene.
FIVE
Morning dawned bright and sunny despite Ava’s dark mood. Why couldn’t it be a typical February day, dismal and gloomy? At least her breakfast with Jocelyn and Sam had been pleasant. Sam had been especially cordial. The image of him with Jocelyn didn’t match the tough-guy image of him as an FBI agent. Maybe he had to be that way at work. But now she had a million things to do to get their wedding planned by the end of the month. So much to do, not enough time.
The shocker to her morning had come when she slipped behind the wheel of her car. Clint Herald and his niece, Sarah Farley, walked along the sidewalk. Ava’s heart caught. Could the rumors be true? Surely her brother would have said something if Sarah had been his daughter, right? Sarah had blond hair that shone in the morning sun.
Turn around and let me get a good look at your eyes!
But Clint led the little girl into one of the shops. The question burned in Ava’s mind the entire drive home.
“Ms. Ava, Bosworth says a deputy’s here with a box of stuff that was Dylan’s. Mrs. Charla won’t answer her door.” Bea’s voice broke into Ava’s mental wanderings. The maid stood in the doorway of Ava’s suites, the morning sun filtering in from the open drapes and bathing her in a warm glow.
Ava stared at the maid through the mirror. She’d just changed into a business suit to go into the Renault Corporation. Now this. Lord, I need a little help down here. I’m running on empty in the strength department.
“I’ll be right down. Just take the deputy to the sitting room, please. I’ll see to Mother after I’ve dealt with him.” Ava waited until the maid had left to grip the edge of her vanity so hard she nearly broke a carefully manicured nail.
The situation wasn’t getting any easier as time went on. First her mother’s odd behavior, then the questions by Sheriff Reed, then finding out about Max and Dylan’s meeting and now having to go through her br
other’s belongings. And all the questions, too. When will it ease up, Lord?
After Max had delivered his news over lunch yesterday, he’d returned to Renault Cooperation with her and spent the afternoon explaining the spreadsheets as well as the profit-and-loss statements for each client’s investments. His assistance had been more than valuable, and despite the questions warring in her mind about the strange meeting between him and Dylan, she’d greatly appreciated his help. It was still very odd for them to have met only a week before the murder, and at the crime scene, too, but her heart wouldn’t believe that Max had anything to do with Dylan’s murder. It was all circumstantial, and Max had explained what happened.
Even if it didn’t make sense. No wonder the sheriff had questioned him.
Dylan had been questioned several times about his connection with Angelina. The investigation had to be worked. But Max couldn’t be involved. He just couldn’t be.
Ava had been up most of the night, tossing and turning the facts over in her mind. Nothing was what it seemed. She didn’t have time to ponder it yet again—there was a deputy with her brother’s belongings waiting for her downstairs.
Dread dragged her steps as she made her way down the elaborate staircase, her fingers grazing the polished-to-a-shine cedar rail. She’d have to check on her mother after she finished with the deputy. It just wasn’t healthy for Charla to lock herself in her suites. Not at all. Maybe she should call Jocelyn to come by and try to talk to Charla. She couldn’t go on like this—something had to give.
She stiffened her spine as she entered the sitting room. Deputy Aaron Bertrand stood in full uniform and lifted a cardboard box as she walked into the room. “Ms. Ava.” He dipped his head in lieu of being able to tip his hat to her.
“Deputy.” She stopped at the settee table and gestured toward the box. “Are those my brother’s things?”
“Yes, ma’am. Is Ms. Charla coming?”
“No. Mother still isn’t feeling very well. I’ll handle this.”
He set the box on the table, then withdrew a piece of paper. “I’ll need you to sign the inventory sheet after you’ve gone through everything. Just to make sure what we logged is all there.”
Which meant she had to go through Dylan’s stuff now, with Deputy Bertrand watching. So much for grieving in private.
She pushed down the lump rising up in her throat and nodded. With shaking hands, she opened the flaps. She took a deep breath and stared at her brother’s belongings.
How strange to see a dead person’s things. Disturbing and depressing. Especially things that belonged to her brother. Her gut twisted.
The lawman cleared his throat. She wanted to scream that this was very hard, and not to rush her, but knew this was only a job to him. He probably had places he needed to be, crimes to investigate.
She withdrew Dylan’s money clip, the platinum holder with his initials monogrammed on the outside. The metal was cold to her touch, but she remembered the warmth in Dylan’s hug when he thanked her for it at Christmas. Had it only been two months ago? Only his driver’s license, credit cards and cash were wrapped tightly inside. She glanced at Deputy Bertrand. “Obviously, this rules out robbery as motive for his murder.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She set the money clip on the table and pulled out a watch. A Presidential Rolex with a diamond bezel—a gift from Charla on Dylan’s birthday two years ago. Ava set it beside the money clip. “Definitely not robbery.”
The deputy didn’t comment, just shifted his weight from one leg to the other, silently urging her to get through the box.
Ava withdrew a plastic bag filled with coins and other items and shot an inquiring gaze to Bertrand.
“Those effects were on his person at the time of his death.”
“Where in particular?”
“In his pockets. His clothes are in evidence and won’t be returned.”
“Oh.” As if she’d ever want to see the clothes her brother died in. Creepy. Turning her attention back to the bag, she couldn’t tell what was inside because everything jumbled together. She dumped the contents on the table.
Loose change, a monogrammed golf ball marker, and…her heart caught.
A medallion with a rose and engraving.
Her insides trembled as much as her hands as she picked up the piece of jewelry. She ran her thumb over the engraving. Her name. Max had kept it all these years?
No, it couldn’t be.
“We think he probably got it as a surprise for you or something, although it wasn’t in a jeweler’s box,” the deputy said. “It’s a little dirty because we dusted it for prints. Not a useful one in the bunch. Just smudges.”
Fingerprints? Who cared about fingerprints? How Dylan got this was the question. And why Max kept it for so many years. Her fingers went automatically to her matching necklace. She yanked her hand down quickly, hoping the deputy didn’t notice. “This was in Dylan’s pocket?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Are you positive?” Her mouth was drier than Loomis in August.
He glanced at the inventory sheet he held and nodded. “It lists it right here: coins and ball marker found in right front pants pocket, medallion found in left front pants pocket.”
“But that can’t be.” Dear Lord, this can’t be happening.
“Why’s that?”
“Dylan shouldn’t have had this at all. I gave this to Max Pershing back in high school.”
Another day, another opportunity to see Ava.
Max wasn’t surprised that he started his day thinking of her. Just being in close contact with her for the past month or so, he’d already gotten accustomed to spending time with her again. Old habits die hard. Or was there a chance for a reunion between them?
For the last several days, his feelings toward Ava had resurfaced with a vengeance. His heart tripped every time he saw her, yet his mind needed answers. An explanation as to why she avoided him when she returned to town. Answers to why she’d never made contact with him in college, never even replying to his letters. They’d been in love—what happened to change her feelings? Had she gotten involved with someone else in college, while he was in Baton Rouge? He found that hard to believe as the rumor mill kept everyone up to date as to the relationship status of everyone in Loomis. So, what’d happened?
Not knowing the truth set his teeth on edge. He could not allow himself to fall head over heels again until he knew.
With that thought, Max grabbed his keys from the buffet and headed out of his condo. Birds chirped happily in the Bradford pear trees lining the walkway to the parking lot. By all appearances, it would be an early spring.
“Why weren’t you in the office yesterday?”
Max nearly tripped at the sound of his mother’s voice. She stood by his truck, hand on hip. “I called more than five times. That secretary of yours is useless.”
“Good morning, Mom.” He planted a peck on her upturned cheek, grateful that she’d reminded him to put in for Patsy’s raise. “I had things to attend to.”
“What kinds of things? And why couldn’t your secretary tell me? I’m your mother.”
A detail she never let him forget. He let out a sigh. “If you must know, the sheriff had some questions for me.”
Her eyes widened. “What questions?”
She’d hear soon enough. Actually, he was slightly surprised she didn’t already know. Was his cousin Micheline slipping? “About my meeting with Dylan Renault the week before his murder.”
Shock didn’t look nearly as good on Lenore as it did on Ava. Max filled her in on the details and waited for the outburst.
One, two, three, fo—
“What? They implied you could be involved with his murder? How dare Bradford! I was a major contributor to his re-election campaign. He and I…well, I can’t believe this.”
Max rested a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. Really. It may sound bad, but that’s okay. I have nothing to hide. I told them the truth and that sh
ould be the end of it.”
“But to accuse you…”
“They didn’t accuse me. Just asked me questions.”
“Still.” His mother continued to fume, her lips pursed tightly.
“It’s all fine. Don’t worry.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead before opening his truck door. “I’m heading into the office now.”
“What does Ava think?” Her words stopped him.
“What?”
“Ava. What does she think about your connection to her brother’s murder?”
How did she feel? She’d been bewildered by her brother’s motivation, but other than that, she really hadn’t said much. Maybe he should’ve pressed her to talk more yesterday.
“I can’t imagine she’d want anything to do with you anymore after finding this out.”
He focused on his mother’s face. Her eyes. “I really don’t think that’s any of your business.” His words were sharper than he’d intended, but, honestly, how could she derive pleasure from his situation?
Her expression changed. Went slack. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just that the Renaults are so shallow, so concerned with their appearance that I thought she’d brush you off just on the implication. I don’t want you to be hurt, honey. I only care about you.”
He sighed and softened his tone. “I know, but truly, I’m okay. Ava and I are doing some things together. That’s all.”
Max didn’t miss her huff under her breath. “I’m a big boy, Mom. Able to take care of myself.”
“Does that include your heart, too?”
He smiled and slipped behind the wheel of his truck. If only he knew the answer to her question. His office was only a block away, so he didn’t have time to question the issue long. Max went directly into the personnel office and put in a healthy raise for Patsy before going to his own office.
Sinking into his plush executive chair, he dove into the work piled on his desk from his absence yesterday. Amazing how much could stack up from just an afternoon away. He was a third through the heap when Patsy stuck her head in the doorway. “Boss, Sheriff Reed’s here to see you. Again.” She wrinkled her nose.