“Privately,” Jack qualified.
Bucky preferred staying where there were lots of witnesses, until he noted his father rising from behind his desk and walking closer to the floor-to-ceiling windows that separated Adlai from the buzz in the newsroom.
Realizing if he didn’t want Adlai involved he had to get Jack Granger out of the newsroom, Bucky swiftly grabbed his cell phone, pager and notepad, and led the way out of the newsroom, down the hall to the conference rooms where they interviewed people and brainstormed future articles. Finding an empty room, Bucky led the way in, switched on the overhead lights and shut the door behind them. “What’s on your mind?”
“Were you at my house last night?”
Bucky tossed his stuff down on the table. “Why would I be there?”
Jack, who was half a foot taller than Bucky and outweighed him by some forty pounds, stood over Bucky. “Answer the question,” he ordered him, like a bully shaking down a smaller kid for his lunch money.
Deciding sitting might be safer, Bucky pulled out a chair and sank into it. “No. I wasn’t.”
Jack still looked as if he wanted to throttle him. “You’re sure.”
“Positive. Why?” Deciding he better at least look unafraid, Bucky swiveled his chair around, leaned back and propped his feet on the edge of the table. “What happened?” he asked as he folded his hands across his lap.
Declining Bucky’s pantomimed offer to take a chair, too, Jack instead folded his arms in front of him contentiously. “Someone broke in.”
Now, this was news he was interested in. Bucky picked up his notepad and pen. “Any idea who it was?” Eager to get the details, he looked back up at Jack.
Jack sent Bucky a withering glare that under less compelling circumstances would have made Bucky quail. “You’re at the top of the list of suspects, Jerome.”
“Hey.” Bucky spread his hands wide on either side of him, in exaggerated claim of his innocence. “I draw the line at breaking the law, Granger.”
Jack lifted an eyebrow, not believing that for one minute.
“Okay,” Bucky amended, “I draw the line at breaking the law in a way that could put me in jail. Breaking into your place would put me in jail.”
Jack studied him a moment longer, then turned toward the closed conference-room door.
“What’d they take?” Bucky leaped up to keep Jack from leaving before Bucky got the necessary facts. “I’m assuming it wasn’t a regular burglary or you wouldn’t be here.” Determined to keep him from running out on him, Bucky squinted at Jack and baited him into inadvertently revealing more. “You’re not involved in anything nefarious, are you? You know, that would have one of your, uh…criminal friends enacting payback on you or something?”
Jack blinked in stunned amazement, shook his head. “Where do you get this stuff?”
“I take it that’s a no.”
“You only wish you had that story to write,” Jack growled.
Bucky narrowed his eyes at Jack in speculation. “So if you weren’t the target, then Daisy was?”
“Why would you think Daisy was a target?” he demanded, towering over Bucky.
“I don’t know.” Bucky shrugged and continued to watch Jack thoughtfully. “Maybe it has something to do with the sleazy stuff Richard is involved in.”
Jack pushed Bucky back into the chair he had been sitting in and leaned over him, hands on the table. “What sleazy stuff?”
Bucky scoffed. Jack Granger might be a corporate attorney, but he had the bad-cop routine down pat. “You’re telling me you don’t know about his extracurricular activities,” Bucky goaded.
Jack straightened slowly, looking perplexed. “What are you talking about?”
“I gather that means Daisy doesn’t know what Richard is up to, either,” Bucky went on as if Jack hadn’t spoken. “I mean, it’s not the kind of thing she would be able to keep her mouth shut about,” Bucky speculated bluntly. “I gotta figure, if Daisy knew, she would be complaining and carrying on about it herself. Telling her mother to take action.”
Jack had thought he was beyond the point in his life where he could be shocked—not true. Richard Templeton? Fooling around on Charlotte…and a reporter knew about it? Determined to keep the conversation on track, he passed on the opportunity to debate the truthfulness of what Bucky was claiming and instead simply demanded in the most reasonable voice he could manage, “What does any of that have to do with Daisy?”
“Maybe nothing.” Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe something. All I know for sure is that Richard’s paramour was at Templeton’s Fine Antiques a few weeks ago, having what looked to me like a pretty tense and unpleasant conversation with Iris.”
Jack clasped both hands around the back of his neck. “You think this woman is blackmailing the Templetons?”
“Maybe.” Bucky tapped his pen against the notepad. “Or maybe she just wants to and is looking for something that would get her some hush money and that would be something on Daisy….”
Jack’s glance narrowed. “Does this woman have a name?”
No way was Bucky giving that up. This was his story, however it unfolded. And he wasn’t going to let Jack Granger ruin it. “Let’s just say we have yet to be properly introduced.”
Jack looked as if he didn’t know whether or not to believe Bucky’s avowed lack of knowledge. “What does she look like?” Jack bit out.
Bucky shrugged, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to give a description that, while accurate and truthful, could also apply to thousands of women in the Greater Charleston Area. “Late thirties, early forties, auburn hair.”
“And built,” Jack guessed.
“Like a brick house,” Bucky confirmed. Curious now because it looked as if Jack knew something, too, Bucky leaned forward eagerly. “You’ve seen her?”
“Maybe.” His expression both stymied and concerned, Jack began to pace the conference room. He turned back to look at Bucky, watching Bucky’s face carefully as he revealed matter-of-factly, “There was a woman hanging around our house a few days ago. She approached Daisy, but then took off.”
Could it have been Ginger Zaring?
Bucky had to know.
“Hang on. I’ll be right back.” Bucky returned with a manila envelope full of black-and-white photos. “This the same woman?” he asked.
Jack swore virulently to himself as he thumbed through the lurid photographs that left no doubt Richard Templeton was cheating on his wife. “You shot these?”
“Yep,” Bucky declared proudly, deciding to test Jack’s knowledge by shocking the hell out of him.
“Where were they?”
“In the elementary-school library at the Protect the Children benefit.”
Jack looked at Bucky as if he was sure he couldn’t possibly have heard right. “The one Daisy and I were at?”
Bucky nodded affirmatively, adding, “Not to mention Charlotte and Iris.”
Jack let out a stream of profanities that would have made his dockworker grandfather proud. “The SOB really likes to take risks, doesn’t he?”
Bucky agreed there was no bigger horse’s ass than Richard Templeton. He was glad to see Jack apparently loathed the man, too. It gave him and Bucky something in common. “Which would, of course,” Bucky continued pragmatically, “make Richard Templeton a perfect target for blackmail.”
Jack sighed, and handed the lewd photos back to Bucky. “Or a demand for marriage.”
Bucky slid the photos back into the envelope. “You really think the woman would want to marry Richard Templeton?”
Jack shrugged. “Beats sneaking around like that, and he is rich.”
Very rich, Bucky thought.
The two men were silent.
Which was probably why Ginger Zaring had approached Daisy on the beach that evening, Bucky thought. Ginger might have wanted to try and convince Daisy that Ginger and Richard were in love and should get married.
Initially, Bucky had figured Ginger was a high-class
call girl, but a little sleuthing on his part had revealed that she was a devoted mother of a teenage daughter, about to head to a very expensive Ivy League school Ginger Zaring could not possibly afford on her own. And since Ginger’s ex-husband had flipped out a few years before and gone to live in the wilderness or something, he couldn’t be counted on to help, either, since he was willingly unemployed a great deal of the time.
One of Ginger’s co-workers had told Bucky the divorce and resulting financial troubles had left Ginger bitter, and focused on only one thing—helping her beloved daughter, Alyssa, get ahead. Ginger might have figured wealthy Richard was the key.
One thing was certain. Richard was making a fool of himself with Ginger all over Charleston, to the point it was only a matter of time before Charlotte or Daisy or Iris discovered it, too, and the whole thing blew up in their faces. When that happened, Bucky still intended to be first with the scoop.
“Do you think Daisy is in danger?” Jack asked.
Bucky shrugged and did his best to look as baffled about what was going on—and why—as Daisy’s husband apparently was. “You tell me—you’re the lucky devil who’s married to her. And while you’re at it, maybe you can explain to me why your boss, Tom Deveraux, and Daisy’s sister, Iris, were having a little tête-à-tête at Templeton’s Fine Antiques right after closing last night. Iris looked upset during the meeting and Tom was definitely troubled when he left.”
Jack blinked. “You were spying on them?”
“Observing those around me, the way any good reporter does.”
Jack’s expression became stony with resolve. “I don’t know why Tom was talking to Iris.”
“Sure about that?” Bucky was pretty certain Jack did know.
“Furthermore, it’s none of my business or yours,” Jack continued sternly.
Bucky tilted his head at Jack in silent speculation. “I’m sure that’s what you’d like me to think, but the evidence here says otherwise. Bottom line, I’ve never known the Templetons and the Deveraux to be at all friendly. If they ever were, it was long before I was born. So why were Tom and Iris suddenly meeting clandestinely? What could they possibly have been talking about that was so important to both of them and upsetting, to boot? Thus far anyway, I can only come up with one explanation. You work for Tom and you’re married to Iris’s sister, Daisy. So the only connection between Tom and Iris is you and, by default, Daisy. So if Tom went to see Iris about something upsetting, it was likely about you and Daisy.”
Jack flexed his shoulders, smoke all but coming out of his head.
“Then, of course, this tale of woe gets even stranger because if what you’re telling me is accurate—” Bucky ignored the danger signs and continued theorizing bluntly “—on the heels of that meeting, your place is broken into last night.”
“Which gives you more motive than anyone else, since you’re the only one snooping around in our business, in hunt of a juicy story that just isn’t there,” Jack pointed out.
“Except,” Bucky corrected, “I didn’t have anything to do with said break-in. Because I was at three society parties and two benefits last night taking pictures and getting quotes for this morning’s story. If you want to check it out, I’ll give you the names and numbers of the hosts.”
Jack seemed to be trying to decide if he could trust Bucky. Finally, he grimaced and said, “Look, I don’t know what your plans are, Jerome, but I don’t think either of us should say anything to Daisy about her father fooling around. She’s had a rough time of it lately, being in the hospital and all.”
Normally, Bucky would have said it was a mistake to keep anything from Daisy—she didn’t like being kept in the dark. About anything. But in this case he couldn’t help but agree with Jack Granger.
Whatever female problem Daisy had suffered had been rough on her. All Bucky had to do was look at her to know she was still getting over it.
“I agree,” Bucky said quietly. News of the uptight Richard’s debauchery would devastate Daisy and she’d already been hurt enough. So Daisy wouldn’t hear it from him, Bucky promised silently. But if Richard did make that fatal misstep, got caught with his pants down and the sordid story got out, all bets were off.
JACK KNEW he had to keep Daisy away from Richard Templeton’s mistress, and the first chance he got, he took steps to do just that. “You’re sure it was the same woman?” Daisy asked after Jack had filled her in on the parts of his conversation with the nosy reporter that Jack thought Daisy should know. Finished with work for the day, she picked up her camera bags and headed out to the parking lot.
Jack shifted Daisy’s load from her arms to his. “Bucky had a couple photos of her from a social event he was covering. There was no doubt it was the same woman.”
Daisy paused as Jack opened up the back of the SUV. “And she went to see Iris at the shop.”
Jack nodded, glad he had given Daisy a ride to work that morning on his way to the Deveraux-Heyward Shipping offices.
“What about?” Daisy persisted, seeming to sense something more was up than what he was currently telling her.
Jack shrugged, and revealed as much of the truth as he could while still sheltering his wife from any unnecessary ugliness. “Bucky didn’t know,” Jack reiterated calmly. “He just said the meeting between the two was tense. Anyway, if the woman comes near you again, I think you should stay away from her. Just let me handle her.”
Daisy hopped up on the back so she was sitting in the cargo area beneath the raised hood. She looked pretty and sort of summery in a pair of cropped red slacks and a red-and-white bandanna print blouse that bared her shoulders and fell just above her navel. Her wavy blond hair had been caught up in a clasp on the back of her head to keep it out of her face while she worked. And her face and shoulders held the blush of sun because they had done part of the day’s taping outdoors. Daisy clamped her hands on either side of her and swung her legs back and forth over the end of the SUV. “So what am I supposed to do if I see this mystery woman trying to approach me again, Jack—send out an SOS?”
“Yes.” Jack parted her knees and stepped between her legs. He wrapped his arms around her hips and waist and tugged her closer, until the insides of her thighs were pressed against his sides, exactly the way they had been last night when they were making love. “That’s exactly what you are supposed to do,” Jack told her firmly but lovingly. He paused to give her a long, thorough kiss designed to make up for all the hours they had spent apart. Drawing back only because of where they were, he gently touched her face. “Because like it or not, you are now connected to Grace and the breakup of her marriage, and she’s celebrity enough to be fodder for the tabloids. Information like that, along with the proof that was stolen from our place last night, could fetch a lot of money on the open market.”
Jack didn’t want to see any of the parties involved exposed to such devastating hurt.
“Did you tell Harlan Decker any of this?” Daisy asked.
Jack nodded calmly, even as he pushed his guilt—for keeping anything from Daisy—away. “I told him everything.” Including the parts Jack had kept from Daisy. “He’s going to see what he can do to figure out who this woman is.” And he was going to do so by tailing Richard Templeton. “But it may take a few days before we know anything.”
Hopefully, once they did get an identity on the woman, Jack would be able to take steps, legal or otherwise, to prevent this entire situation from blowing up in their faces. And protect his wife in the bargain. Because this was something Jack never wanted Daisy to know.
DAISY KNEW that although Jack was trying to play it cool, deep inside he was still edgy about the previous night’s break-in. She was, too. Especially since it looked as if Bucky Jerome was not responsible for the theft of Daisy’s private information.
Which was why, like it or not, she was going to have to involve her family. Connor was out of the country on business—he was in Aruba with a group of big-time investors, vacationing and trying to put together
some big consortium for a new ultraluxurious resort on the Atlantic. Details of which were top secret. She didn’t want to go to her father—she was not up to a lecture from him. She didn’t want to upset her mother—Charlotte would worry too much if she knew Daisy and Jack had walked in on a burglary in progress. So that left Iris, who, as it turned out, was involved in this mess anyway.
“I’m going to have to tell Iris so she’ll be forewarned, too,” Daisy told Jack as she climbed into the passenger seat beside him. Daisy pulled her cell phone out of her bag and punched in a number. “Hopefully, she hasn’t already gone to a dinner party or something.”
Iris’s maid, Consuela, answered on the second ring. “This is Daisy. I’m looking for my sister,” Daisy said.
“She’s out at Rosewood doing inventory, Daisy. She said she would be late getting home.”
“How late?”
“Ten or 11:00 p.m.”
“Thanks.” Daisy hung up and told Jack.
“You want to go out there?” he said.
Daisy noted he didn’t look particularly eager. In truth, neither was she. “I think we’d better,” she said reluctantly. If the family was about to be blackmailed about Daisy’s birth and Iris’s pregnancy, Iris needed to be warned as soon as possible. And Daisy sensed it was a conversation best had in person. Besides, she wanted to see the look in Iris’s eyes when they talked about the mysterious woman. This time Daisy wanted to know for sure that her birth mother wasn’t keeping anything vital from her.
Not surprisingly, Daisy and Jack were quiet on the ride to Rosewood. As always, Daisy was loathing any foray onto the property where the single most traumatic experience of her life had occurred. But maybe it was good she was going there again, Daisy told herself firmly. Maybe if she went there enough—with Jack at her side—she would be able to desensitize herself to the sprawling estate. And finally put those nightmares about the dark and dank cellar, which Daisy knew had long since been remodeled, behind her. It was worth a try anyway, since Daisy imagined Jack was as tired of losing sleep over her bad dreams as she was.
The Heiress Page 33