Entangled

by Carmen Green

  “Sorry.” The smile he’d been holding back broke through. He found her smart mouth a funny juxtaposition to the geeky glasses and loose-fitting clothes she wore. “You’re the only librarian I know.”

  She shook her head and began to rise from her kneeling position. He stood then took her arm and helped her to her feet. Her arm felt slender, delicate and warm.

  “Thanks,” she said and stepped away from him.

  He watched her walk quickly to the other side of the room. She’d gotten as far away from him without actually leaving the room. What was with that? He looked down at the stack of books she’d left on the floor and picked them up. He put the books on a small table. He looked at the title of the first book. It was a popular business title that he’d wanted to read. He flipped opened the book and scanned the first few pages before laying the book flat on the desk.

  “Is this book new?” He flipped to the next page.

  She turned around. “Which book?”

  He held it up.

  “No, I gave him that book about six months ago.”

  Chris looked at the cover. It was pristine. It didn’t look like Marc even read it. He put the book on the desk and began flipping through each page.

  “What are you looking for?” She put a large stack of paperback books on the desk.

  “Anything Marc put inside. He would hide small things in his books when we were boys.”

  “Oh. What kind of things? People are constantly leaving papers inside library books. I found a fifty-dollar bill inside a book.”

  He raised a brow. “What did you do with the money?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Any money we find goes into lost and found. Most of the time, it isn’t claimed and the library deposits the money after a year.”

  “Couldn’t you see who was the last person to check out the book?”

  “No. Once something’s checked in, it’s taken off their record to protect their privacy and to keep from clogging up the computer system with old data.”

  “You weren’t tempted to keep the money?” He turned another page in the book.

  “No. It wasn’t my money.”

  Was she serious? Marc would have pocketed the money without even thinking about it. He watched her thumb through the pages of one of the paperbacks. How in the world had his brother ended up married to her?

  He removed the book jacket then put it back on when he found nothing and set that book aside.

  “So what did he hide in his books?”

  Chris reached for another hardback. “Money, papers, his report cards when he had bad grades.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “I was a typical younger brother wanting what my big brother had. I would go through his stuff when he wasn’t home.” He smiled at the horrified look on her face.

  “That’s just wrong.” She frowned at him.

  “No, it’s not. It’s what brothers and sisters do to each other. Marc did the same thing with my stuff all the time.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Curiosity or to get back at me for something I did to him.”

  “That just doesn’t make any sense.” She picked up another book and flipped through the pages.

  “I guess it wouldn’t make sense to an only child.” He turned a page. Between the pages lay a receipt. He picked it up. “Do you shop at H. Morgan and Sons Jewelers?”

  “No, but that’s where I take Aunt Gert’s necklace to be cleaned.” She walked around the desk. “Did you find something?”

  “This is a receipt for a diamond necklace he bought the month he died.” He tilted his head. “Do you know anything about it?” For a brief moment he saw a flash of hurt in her eyes. He knew the answer before she responded.

  She shook her head and began rearranging the books on the table. “He didn’t buy it for me.”

  This was a hell of a situation. “I’m sorry.” The words seemed pitiful and inadequate. He’d thought of her as a pain in the butt with her constant refusal to accept his offers to settle Marc’s estate. To him, it was just another bad situation his brother had dragged him into. He’d been sure she was being difficult to get back at Marc through him, but she looked really hurt.

  She looked up. “Thank you.” Her voice was quiet.

  “You’re welcome.” He picked up the last hardback book. He’d known Marc’s actions hurt the women he’d married, but it was another thing to see that hurt up close and personal. She couldn’t fake the kind of pain he’d seen on her face. He quickly searched the book and watched as she closed the covers of the last paperback. Something softened inside him. She was not only a victim of a crime; she’d been totally betrayed by Marc. This was yet another one of his lies. “Look. I don’t know why Marc acted the way he did. But you can’t let his actions continue to hurt you.”

  She gave him a smile tinged with sadness. “It’s hard not to be hurt when your husband buys jewelry for another woman.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I know. There was something wrong with Marc, not you. You loved him, but I don’t think Marc knew how to love anybody.”

  Her dark brown gaze met his. “I didn’t love Marc.”

  He dropped his hand to his side. He couldn’t have heard her correctly.

  The doorbell rang, interrupting his thoughts. She walked out of the room. He followed to the door of the library and watched as she opened the door. Standing on the other side were two little girls. They had the same facial features so he assumed the taller one was the older sister of the smaller girl who looked to be on the verge of tears.

  “Hi, Miss Renee,” the older girl said and smiled, displaying a gap in her grin from a missing front tooth.

  “Hello, Brandy, Brittany.”

  The little girl muttered “hello” then quickly lowered her head.

  “Brittany’s group in the community center is selling candy and she’s supposed to ask you if you’d like to buy some and I’m supposed to let her ask you herself and just stand here so she won’t be so scared. Go ahead, Brittany. Ask her.” She nudged Brittany forward.

  Chris bit back a smile at the mile-a-minute spiel.

  Renee bent down on her knee in front of a clearly reluctant girl. “Did you want to ask me something, Brittany?” she asked softly.

  The girl nodded her head, looked up at Renee’s smiling face. A few seconds later, Brittany lifted a brochure an inch from Renee’s nose and said in a trembling, small voice, “Do you want to buy candy?”

  Renee gently took the brochure from the girl and made a big show of looking it over.

  “They got chocolate and caramel and peanut butter,” Brandy said.

  “So I see,” Renee said. “I think I’ll have one of each, Brittany.” She turned over the brochure. “Am I supposed to put my name here?”

  Brittany nodded and held out a pen. Renee took the pen and wrote on the back. “Wait here and let me get the money.” She straightened then walked across the hall to the office.

  “See,” he heard Brandy say. “I told you Miss Renee was nice. She bought three boxes of candy so you don’t have to sell any more.”

  Chris watched Renee come out the office. She carefully counted exact change into the little girl’s hand.

  “Thank you, Miss Renee,” Brittany said and gave her a shy smile.

  “You’re welcome,” she said and watched them for a few seconds, waved, then closed the door.

  “Waving goodbye to the girls?” he asked when she walked into the library.

  “No. I waved to their mother. She was waiting for them on the sidewalk.”

  This place was more like Mayberry than he thought. When he was growing up, he didn’t see his mother until she came home from work and there was no extra money for activities that required selling candy.

  “Did you buy three boxes of candy so Brittany could meet her goal?”

  She looked at him in surprise. “How did you know?”

  “I heard Brandy telling her that she was
done. That was really nice.”

  “It was no problem. They’re sweet little girls and I can give the candy to Aunt Gert and her friends.”

  “You’re a generous woman, so why marry Marc? You did say you didn’t love him,” he restated, making sure that he hadn’t misunderstood her. He’d bet his badge that she wasn’t the kind of woman who married a man for his money. He’d met that type when he hung out with his friend, Will Johnson, and Renee Foster was the total opposite type.

  “No. I didn’t love Marc. We didn’t marry for love.”

  Part of him, the part buried deep inside him, gave a primal scream of joy. She hadn’t loved his brother and that knowledge filled him with a desire to claim her as his own. He quickly pushed the feeling aside. He knew better. He’d been burned more than once by wanting and never having. He frowned. “So why did you marry him?”

  She looked down at the books on the table. “I wanted to have a family of my own and I thought he would learn to care for me.” She shook her head. “I should have known better.”

  He wanted to take away her pain and tell her that everything would be all right. But he couldn’t. His brother had lied enough to her.

  “It doesn’t matter now,” she continued. “All that matters is finding the necklace.”

  He nodded. The sooner they found the necklace, the sooner he could forget the pain and hurt he’d seen in her eyes. The sooner he could bury the longing he felt when he was around her. He picked up the necklace receipt. “We’ll start here.”

  CHAPTER 5

  “What’s wrong with what I have on?” Renee stood in the middle of her office, obviously not pleased.

  Chris looked at the baggy, shapeless black dress, black tights and butt-ugly shoes Renee wore. He’d seen better looking shoes on the homeless. He’d asked her to dress like a grieving widow for the trip to the jewelry store. He wanted the sight of Renee to make the person at the store feel sorry for her. He’d used the sympathy card a few times in his career to get information from a reluctant employer in the past and it was worth a try now.

  While she’d gone upstairs to change clothes, he’d made quick work of exploring the main level of the house, searching for something that would explain her knowledge of computers. It had given him something to think about, other than her taking off her clothes upstairs.

  He tilted his head to the side. “If you walk in the store wearing that, the staff will expect you to ask for a handout.” He should know. He and Marc had worn donated clothes several sizes too big while growing up. Today, they would have been in fashion, but then the way they dressed advertised their poverty. Too many store employees to count had followed them around. To them, poverty was synonymous with shoplifting and Marc had proven them correct.

  She looked down at herself and brushed her hands along the sides of the dress. “No way. I wear this to work all the time.”

  Chris raised his brows. Why did she wear clothes at least a size too big? “Do you have something more tailored in black?”

  She wrinkled her brow. “I’ve got a black suit.” Her voice was uncertain.

  “Let’s see it.” He put his hands in his pockets.

  “I don’t think what I look like is going to make a difference one way or the other. I just want to know if they have Aunt Gert’s necklace.”

  “You haven’t reported the necklace as stolen. Legally the store doesn’t have to answer any of our questions. We need to give them a reason to want to tell us what we want to know. Changing clothes should be a small price to pay if the store leads us to the necklace.”

  She straightened her shoulders then nodded. “You’re right. I’ll be right back.”

  Chris watched her leave the room. The dress hung like a black tent around her frame, making her look smaller than she was. He hoped she didn’t question everything that he suggested otherwise it was going to be a very long two weeks. Moments later, he turned at the quiet sound of her footsteps on the stairs and felt a pull of desire so strong he nearly groaned.

  She stood in the doorway looking sexy, feminine and vulnerable. The black suit hugged every inch of her curves. Her breasts looked full and lush. Who knew her baggy clothes covered a small waist and full hips that had him thinking of him, her and a bed. She pulled on the jacket as if pulling it would hide the curvy body within. The skirt showed off long legs that were nice. Very nice. She looked up and met his gaze and for the first time he did nothing to hide his desire.

  Her eyes widened in surprise and confusion before she looked down. “Is this what you were talking about?”

  “Absolutely. You look beautiful.”

  She frowned and shifted her weight from one foot to the other before she caught herself and stood perfectly still. “Thank you.”

  He could tell that she was uncomfortable and he wondered why a simple compliment would cause that kind of reaction. “Are you ready to go?”

  “I just need to get my purse.”

  The twenty-minute drive to H. Morgan and Sons Jewelers was filled mostly with silence. Renee didn’t say much other than to give him directions. The jewelry store was located in a small strip mall with a Tuscan facade in an upscale neighborhood. He drove past the valet and parked in an empty spot in the postage-size parking lot. He put the car in Park and turned to her. “Okay, here’s the plan. I want you to look like you’re struggling to put on a brave face in your grief. If you’re asked questions, try to make your voice waver. Do you think you can do that?”

  She pressed her lips together and frowned. “I think I can.”

  “Good. If we’re lucky, we’ll get the information today. If we don’t, don’t worry about it. I’ll keep coming back until I get it. Okay?”

  She nodded.

  He looked into her somber brown eyes and saw a hint of uneasiness, but an even greater amount of determination and strength. He nodded, then opened his door and walked around the car. Before he could reach the passenger side, Renee opened her door and stepped out. He brushed aside his annoyance and walked beside her. The hot Alabama sun beamed down on them. He reached for the store’s door seconds ahead of her. He waited until she looked at him. “Renee, I open doors for women. Always.”

  She stepped back. “Oh, well. All right then.”

  He opened the door and gestured her inside.

  The interior of the store had an air of old-world elegance. Rich fabric formed the backdrop for elegant pieces of jewelry. Chris scanned the store, noting a young saleswoman helping an older woman who was examining rings at the first counter. A young couple and a salesman were quietly talking near the rear. A security guard stood off to the side at a discreet distance. To the casual observer, the man looked relaxed, but Chris noticed the way his gaze constantly scanned the store. When their gazes met, Chris kept his face blank and nodded his head in greeting. The guard gave him a short nod before continuing his surveillance of the store. They were greeted by an older woman dressed in an immaculate beige suit and pearls. “Welcome. How can I help you today?”

  Chris pegged her as the manager. “I hope you can help us Ms.—” he made a show of looking at the discreet name tag on her lapel “—Morgan. We’d like to speak to the manager.”

  “I’m the owner.”

  He held out his hand. “I’m Chris Foster and this is my sister-in-law, Renee Foster.”

  Chris shifted and stepped to the side. From this position, he could watch the door and most of the store. He watched as Renee gave the woman a brief smile and quiet pain shone in her eyes. It wasn’t an act. He nearly winced and wished for the nth time that she’d let him do this alone. She’d held herself coolly alone at Flowers Funeral Home during Marc’s funeral. Her adamant refusal to deal with him about Marc’s estate made him think of her as cold and distant. The emotion he saw on her face clearly proved she wasn’t. She should have stayed home. There was nothing he could do to comfort her now other than keep his focus on finding the necklace. He returned his gaze to the owner.

  “Nice to meet you both.” Ms
. Morgan’s pleasant expression never wavered.

  Chris reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out the receipt. “My brother, Marc, died in April and we found this receipt in some of his papers. This might be the necklace he bought to give Renee for her birthday. We can’t find the necklace anywhere.” He paused, maintaining eye contact with the older woman, searching for any sign of sympathy.

  He didn’t see any.

  “We know he bought several pieces of jewelry from your store and we’d like to know what the necklace looked like. If we can’t find it, Renee would like to buy a replacement.”

  The older woman looked from him to Renee. Her expression remained politely friendly.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” she said and he could tell she truly meant it.

  “Thank you,” he said. “It would be a big help if you could tell us about this piece.”

  She took the receipt, looked at it and returned it. “How do I know you are who you say you are?”

  “Here’s my ID.” He held it out for her.

  She looked at it for a long time. “I’m going to call and verify the information.”

  “That’s fine,” he said and gave her a business card. “You can call the main number and they can give you verification.”

  She went to one of the counters and made the call. A few minutes later she returned.

  “May I have the…” She stopped when a discreet melody signaled the arrival of another customer.

  Chris looked toward the door. The couple standing just inside the store dressed the part of upper middle-class man and woman. The woman wore a lightweight minidress with a matching long jacket that was almost as long as the dress. The heels on her sandals were so high he wondered how she managed to walk. She carried a purse the size of his overnight bag and her sunglasses covered her slightly tanned face. The guy wore a gray suit and blue shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He looked like he’d left his high-level job, ditched his tie and brought his lady to buy something expensive. There wasn’t anything about them that should have made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, but it did.