by Nancy Warren
He always had his work, Nick reminded himself, as he sloshed through a puddle, jogging down an alleyway to grab an incriminating photo of a high level high-tech executive in the act of selling his company secrets.
His feet were cold and wet. The alley smelled like garbage and urine. It was difficult to get a clear shot with the rain sliding down his face obscuring his vision.
He’d flown back from California and immediately dived back into work. This case was solid, the client a regular, but did he have to be working outside in the cold rain? He wanted to be hanging out in the sun.
He wanted to be wherever Kate was.
He wondered whether Kate was teaching a surf lesson right now. He could picture her flying along on that board, a smile of complete joy on her face. She got the same look sometimes when they were in bed together, and he knew that whatever happened and wherever he went in life, he would never find a woman the equal of Kate.
How could he have known when he agreed, reluctantly, to take on the job of testing Ted's future wife's fidelity, that he would lose so much? He didn't mind too much losing the Carnarvon's business, which he obviously would do when they received the report from the scruffy PI. What he minded was losing something he'd only just found.
Nick didn't think of himself as much of a romantic, but he knew love when it clobbered him over the head. If it had taken him this many years to fall in love for the first time, he suspected he might be the kind of man who can only love once. For all the women he'd known and enjoyed in his life, he had never met one who challenged him and teased him and delighted him and just plain saw him the way she did.
The crazy thing was, he was very sure that he also saw her in a way no man ever had. Certainly not Edward Carnarvon.
When he walked out on her he'd been filled with mixed emotions. Frustration that she refused to admit that they were perfect for each other. Irritation that she didn't seem to care that yet another private investigator was on her tail. And the longing of a man who fervently wants something he may not be able to have.
There had also been an odd kind of protectiveness that he hadn't even recognized at the time. He didn't want some scraggly loser taking photos of the woman he loved in an attempt to make her look bad. Only an act of will had allowed him to walk past the car where the world’s most obvious detective had hunkered down. He'd wanted to yank open the door, pull the guy out, tell him to find a new gig and, at the same time, grab his camera and break it.
He hadn't done any of those things. But even now, thinking back, he felt the tingle in his fingers, the urge to break something.
When he got back to the office later that day, with footage, incriminating evidence that was enough to fire the corporate thief, probably put him in jail, his assistant, Susan, walked behind him into his office and shut the door. They had worked together for most of his career. When she shut the door to his office it meant either that she had something delicate to tell him about one of their colleagues, or that she was pissed.
He glanced up at her warily. "Is everything okay around the office?"
"Fine," she snapped.
"No human resources issues I should be aware of?"
"Oh, yeah. There's a big human resources issue you need to be aware of. You've been a grouchy bear since you got back from your mysterious case which you never wrote a report about—she used air quotes around the word case—and it's polluting our corporate culture."
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "We have a corporate culture?" She was taking her MBA at night school and she had a bad habit of bringing her latest lessons to the office.
"Every office has a corporate culture. The smaller the office, the more impact the people at the top have. You are at the top of this one. You've been snapping people's heads off, not listening, and generally acting like the boss from hell."
"The boss from hell? Really? That seems kind of harsh." Not that he didn't accept that he hadn't been his usual cheerful self around the office. He thought he’d done a better job of holding it together, though. Seemed he’d been fooling himself.
Her lips twitched, "Okay, not from hell exactly but I don't like it when you're not happy. It puts me on edge."
"I'm sorry. It's a personal manner and I have no business letting my personal life interfere with my work life." He wondered what a good manager in one of her study sessions would do. He said, "thank you for bringing this to my attention."
She leaned forward, putting her palms on his desk and glaring down at him. "It's a woman, isn't it?"
He wasn't going to lie. She'd known him too long. "Of course it's a woman. Who else can turn a man inside-out and then toss him to the curb?"
To his consternation she laughed out loud. "Are you kidding me? Some woman finally figured you out?"
What was funny about a broken heart? "What do you mean, figured me out?"
"Oh, I've watched you for years. You charm women without even trying. You're that guy everyone wants to be with. Funny, good-looking, sexy, and you have that irresistible thing that’s like catnip to women.” She leaned in closer. “You can't be tied down."
He pushed his computer keyboard an inch to the left for something to do. "Yeah, well, there are women out there who also don't want to be tied down. Or, maybe just not tied to me."
"Well, get over it."
"Is that supposed to be a rousing pep talk? Cause I gotta tell you, it could use some work."
Her face softened as she regarded him. "We've all had our hearts broken, Nick. Yours is just a little late coming. And, for the record? I'm sorry."
When she walked out, leaving the door open behind her, he felt like a fool. He couldn't believe he'd let a woman get to him like this. His assistant was right. It was time to get his head back in the game.
He got to work on the final report on the corporate espionage case, assigned out a couple of routine background checks, and agreed to investigate yet another case of insurance fraud.
About four o'clock, his assistant buzzed him. "You have a call on line one. Mr. Carnarvon."
"You mean Ted?"
"No, I think it’s Ted's father."
Nick took a moment to breathe in and breathe out before he picked up the phone. He held it away from his ear. He'd been expecting this call, of course. Only he'd imagined it would be Ted yelling in his ear about seducing the woman he’d planned to marry. "Mr. Carnarvon."
"No need to be so formal. You've known me for years. Call me Duncan."
Nick took a second to reply. He didn't hear hostility in the voice on the other end of the phone and that puzzled him. And what was with the call me Duncan routine? As a detective, he did not like puzzles. He liked to know everything the other party knew and preferably more. "All right then, Duncan. What can I do for you today?"
He sensed hesitation on the other end of the line, then Duncan Carnarvon said, "this is a delicate matter. I would need to rely on your complete discretion. "
"Mr. Carnarvon—Duncan—we have a confidentiality agreement in place."
"Right. Good. Of course. Look, I'll get right to the point. I want you to investigate my son." Now, finally, the man sounded aggressive, irritable, as though asking for something so completely inappropriate annoyed him.
"Investigate him for what?" Ted might be a two-timer in his personal life, but loyalty to the family company was as inbred as his name.
"I want you to follow him. Find out where he goes, who he sees. I think that boy is up to something and I don't like it.”
That boy was more than thirty years old and, for old times sake, Nick wouldn't spy on him. Besides, he had a pretty good idea exactly how Ted was spending those mysterious missing hours.
"I'm sorry, Duncan. I like to think I work for the Carnarvon family and your firm.” He paused, wondering how to phrase what he wanted to say, and decided to just say it. "Ted's your son. I've known him since college, which already disqualifies me as an investigator, besides, he is completely loyal both to the company and to you. If he finds out you’re having
him followed and investigated, it could get ugly. If something's troubling you about his behavior why don't you talk to him?"
"I certainly intend to confront him. But I want to have all the facts at my disposal first."
"Then perhaps you should hire a freelancer for this one. I prefer to keep my relationship with your entire company."
"As I said, I rely on your discretion."
"You have it."
When he ended the call he sat staring into space for a moment. He'd expected to be contacted by the Carnarvons. But that conversation was the opposite of what he'd imagined.
Which meant that for some reason they had never received that PI's report or if they had there’d been no mention of the obvious personal relationship between Kate and himself.
Why?
He worked through every scenario he could think of in his head. Nothing made sense.
He picked up his cell phone. He’d been wanting to call Kate from the moment he’d left her place. To his personal shame, he’d kept his phone with him and checked it many times hoping she’d call or text him. But there’d been nothing.
Why shouldn’t he call her?
Why the hell not?
He had her on speed dial, of course. He hit her number, waiting in growing anticipation for the sound of her voice. He was crazy about her voice. It was smooth, sweet and sexy at the same time.
But, at the end of three rings, he didn’t hear her voice. He heard some awful mechanical tone telling him that the number was no longer in service.
He frowned as though his cell phone was to blame for the bad news. What had she done with her phone?
He remembered it. A cheap throw away job. He teased her that she’d taken up drug dealing but she explained that she’d sent the phone Ted had given her on an extended vacation and instead had picked up a throwaway phone. Made sense.
So why didn’t she still have it?
If she didn’t have that phone, then she couldn't teach surfing.
He stalked back to his computer. Pulled up the listing for the surf store and called the number. He recognized the owner’s voice when he answered. “Hi,” he said. “I want to book a lesson with Kate. I had her a couple of weeks ago and she was amazing.” And wasn’t that the truth.
“Sorry. Kate’s not here anymore. I can give you Kyle. He’s a great teacher.”
“No. I only want Kate. Is she coming back?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Okay. Thanks.” He hung up.
There was only one place he could think of that Kate would have gone.
Home.
Had Ted rushed down to visit her? Brought flowers and champagne and knelt on bended knee? Had he begged her to come back to him?
Not only did Nick have a hard time picturing Ted on his knee, but he had even more trouble envisioning Kate saying yes. Maybe she wasn’t in love with Nick, but after everything they’d been through he couldn’t imagine her going back to Ted.
The only thing Ted could offer was a buttload of money. Old family money, and a society name.
The Kate he knew wouldn’t care about that crap.
But there had to be another Kate he didn’t know. The one who’d said yes to Ted once before.
Had he somehow convinced her to say yes a second time?
Of course he hadn’t. This jealousy demon was a new and unwelcome member of his personal demon collection. He needed to get rid of it. The best way he could think of to do that was to see Kate again. Maybe she’d blow him off, but he wanted to try again. He’d rushed in too fast, declared his love without easing her into the idea.
He had a new plan. He was going to suggest they go back to the beginning. Have a real first date. Go slowly. She lived in LA and he lived in Seattle, but they could do long distance. And maybe, if he gave her enough time, she’d love him too.
It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was all he had.
His last call of the day was from an elderly client who was redoing his will. The man had retired from business and moved to a warmer climate for his arthritis so Nick hadn’t heard from him in a while. After some initial catching up, he said, “What can I do for you, Mr. Leacock?”
“I fell out with my son years ago and cut him out of my will.” The old man sighed heavily. “I haven’t seen him since. I don’t want to die without seeing him again. I want you to find him.”
“Okay. You have anything I can go on?”
“I have an entire box of photographs, old letters, everything he left behind. But I won’t let it out of my sight. I want you to come down here. I’ll pay your regular rate and travel plus a bonus if you’re successful.”
“And where are you located?”
“On Catalina Island.”
Nick nearly yelled for joy. Catalina Island was off the coast of California, amazingly, a place he wanted to go to anyway.
“I’d be happy to take your case.”
“There’s some urgency. I’ve got a heart condition.”
“How does day after tomorrow sound?”
“Perfect.”
Chapter Eighteen