"I can give it to him. He doesn't see anyone without an appointment."
"I'm afraid we're going to have to deliver it personally. Can you tell him that we have something for him from Robert Emery, his former business associate?"
The woman gave the bag in Jessica's hand a curious look and then reached for the phone. "What's your name?"
"Sean Callaway."
She punched in a number, then relayed Sean's message. Then she said, "Mr. Hamilton said he can spare you five minutes." She got up from her desk and led them through another pair of glass doors, down a long hallway, to the office at the end. After a quick knock, she opened the door and waved them inside.
Sean had seen evidence of wealth in the outer office, but Clark Hamilton's private office was a designer's dream. And it wasn't just the furniture that was impressive, it was also the floor-to-ceiling view of the San Francisco bay just behind his desk.
Clark stood up as they approached. He was extremely tall, at least six-foot-five. He had brown hair that was streaked with gray and a dark moustache. He wore an expensive suit with a white shirt and red and black striped tie. He gave them an enquiring and somewhat wary look.
"How can I help you?" he asked.
"I'm Sean Callaway and this is Jessica Schilling."
"I met a Jack Callaway once."
"My father," Sean said.
"That makes sense. My receptionist said you have something for me that has to do with Robert Emery?"
"Yes," Jessica said, stepping forward. "I moved into Mr. Emery's former house last week. His mother, Helen, asked me to go through all the things her son left behind after he died and make sure that anything of a personal nature goes to the person who might want it." She cleared her throat and sent Sean a quick look.
He knew exactly what she was worried about. She didn't want to hand over the elephant without finding out more about Clark and Robert's relationship.
"It's our understanding," Sean said, drawing Clark's attention to him, "that you and Robert worked together."
"For ten years," Clark said, bitterness in his eyes. "Robert was at the top of his game, a brilliant investor, but he got greedy. He wanted a bigger cut. He wanted to make the kind of money his clients were making. So he crossed a line. He betrayed me. That's when I fired him."
Sean was surprised by his answer. "I thought he quit."
"I let him tell people that because of our long friendship. It wasn't true. He should have gone to jail for what he did."
"How did he betray you?" Jessica asked.
"He stole money from me, the firm, and some of our clients."
"He didn't die with any extra money in the bank," Sean pointed out.
Clark gave him a sharp look. "How would you know that?"
"The investigation into the fire revealed that Robert was in quite a bit of debt at the time of his death."
"He lost the money he stole in the stock market," Clark said. "He wasn't so brilliant after all. So what do you have for me?"
Jessica pulled out the elephant. "I thought this might be valuable. Robert left it in a box with your name on it. It was with some pictures taken in India."
"Robert bought that elephant for his son," Clark said, making no move to take it out of Jessica's hand. "You should give it to Blake."
"Oh, I didn't realize," Jessica said. "It had your name on it."
Clark uttered a harsh, bitter laugh. "Probably his idea of a joke. Was there anything else with my name on it?"
"Not that I've discovered so far," she replied. "But there are quite a few boxes to go through."
"I thought everything was lost in the fire."
"Apparently not," she said. "I guess the upstairs didn't suffer that much damage, at least that's what people tell me."
"Why isn't Lana cleaning out the house?" Clark asked.
"She's not interested. It's too painful for her."
"So you've spoken to Lana?" Clark asked.
"She's remarried and lives in Seascape," Sean answered, drawing Clark's attention back to him. "She told us that Robert quit his job and wouldn't say why."
"That's simple. He didn't want her to know what he'd done."
"Why didn't you blow the whistle on him, call the cops, put him in jail?" Sean asked. Clark didn't seem like the kind of man who would let someone steal from him and do nothing about it.
"I thought about it. I even threatened to do just that. But Robert and I had been close friends for years. We were like brothers. We had started the firm together. In the end, I just wanted him to leave, so I could rebuild my business."
"It sounds like Robert was in a bad place," Sean said. "Not only was he caught stealing, he lost the money he stole and also his job. You weren't going to give him a reference, so what was he going to do for work?"
Clark shrugged. "I have no idea."
"When did you speak to him last?"
"About a week before he died."
"What was his frame of mind?" Sean asked.
"He was angry, desperate to get his job back. I told him we were done."
"Do you think Robert was capable of killing himself?"
It was a shocking question to ask, but Clark didn't react with surprise. Instead, he said, "I wondered about that myself, but it's my understanding that the fire was believed to be accidental."
A knock came at the office door.
"Come in," Clark said.
The receptionist stepped into the room. "Your next meeting is here."
"Tell them I'll be right with them." Clark gave them a brief smile. "I'm sorry, but as you heard, I have another appointment. Miss Conway will show you out."
"Thanks for your time," Sean said.
"If you do find any papers relating to the business Robert and I had together, I would be interested in seeing those. I still have a few questions about what he did with the money," Clark said.
"I'll let you know," Jessica said.
The receptionist led them out to the lobby.
They didn't speak until they got back into the car.
"I don't understand why Clark would let Robert just walk away from the job," Sean said, as they fastened their seatbelts. "It doesn’t seem like the action of a sharp, ambitious man who'd spent years building a business that depended on trust.
"They were friends," Jessica said. "Clark felt some loyalty to Robert, which stopped him from calling the police. He wanted Robert gone but not destroyed."
"I suppose that makes sense," he said, but he wasn't entirely convinced. Then again, he didn't know what he would do if Hunter stole from him. Maybe friendship and loyalty would trump criminal punishment. Maybe he would do the same thing as Clark.
"So what do you want to do now?" Jessica asked.
"I guess I'll fill Emma in on the conversation and see if she has any other ideas."
"I really think it's looking more and more like Robert killed himself. Think about it. Robert was at the top of his game. He was a superstar. Then he crossed a line. He stole money, lost his job, and apparently lost the money he stole. He has an affair with Sally. He's not getting along with his wife. Then he dies, and Lana ends up with half a million dollars. No one knows about the terrible mistakes he made. His reputation is intact. His wife is out of debt. It makes sense."
"You make a good case," he said as he started the engine. "I just wish we had some proof."
"Well, unless we find a suicide note, I don't think we're going to come up with any."
As he drove out of the parking garage, he glanced at the dashboard clock. It was almost eleven. "Are you in a hurry to get home, Jess? I need to run by the studio and drop off a check for Hunter. It won't take long."
"That's fine. I guess we can spend a little more time together."
He gave her a smile. "We're friends, right?"
She smiled back at him. "You're the most complicated and challenging friend I've ever had."
"Right back at you."
While Sean spoke to Hunter in the control room, Jessica decided to explore. She found a staircase and went up to the second floor where she found what she presumed to be Sean's office. She was impressed with the state-of-the-art computer set-up and the artistically designed décor. A glass table served as a desk, and along one wall was an extensive display of photographs and music awards.
She moved closer. The first few photos were of bands. Then there was a close-up of Sean on the guitar on some outdoor stage, a line of majestic mountains as the backdrop. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him in action, his wavy brown hair blowing in the breeze, his fingers on the guitar, and an intense expression on his face as he sang into the microphone.
She could almost hear the music and the female screams of excitement. She'd seen Sean in a small, intimate club, but here he looked like a rock star. She moved to the next shot which zoomed out, showing the thousands of fans surrounding the stage. As she'd imagined, there were dozens of girls in the pit looking up at Sean with pure adoration.
How could one woman ever compete with that? How could one woman ever be enough for a man who got this much attention on a daily basis?
Maybe that's why there'd never been just one woman for Sean.
"Are you impressed?" a female voice asked.
Jessica whirled around in surprise. A stunning blond, looking very much like a supermodel, gave her a smile. Dressed in a super short skirt with a camisole top, a leather jacket, and three-inch heels, the woman was close to six-feet tall. She had long, silky straight hair that reached her waist, and her eyes were like a cat, a mix of gold and green. Those eyes were now filled with amusement.
"Speechless, huh? That usually only happens when the guys are actually in the room," the blonde said. "So who has you hot and bothered? Hunter or Sean?"
Jessica hadn't even seen Hunter. Her gaze had only been on Sean. "I'm sorry," she said, stumbling a little. "Who are you?"
"Pamela Becker. And you?"
"Jessica Schilling. I'm with Sean. I mean, I'm a friend of Sean's," she hastily corrected.
"So it was Sean who put that dreamy look on your face. That's good, because Hunter is my boyfriend."
Jessica wasn't surprised to hear that. This was exactly the kind of woman a musician would be with.
"So, you and Sean are friends. How did you meet?"
"That's a long story."
"Sounds like it might also be an interesting one."
"Not really. Did you say you and Hunter were together?"
"For almost a year. We met at that concert." She tipped her head toward the photo Jessica had been looking at. "Actually, it was at the after party. Hunter went to Coachella to see Sean play. I was there doing a photo shoot for one of the sponsors." She grinned. "It was lust at first sight. Then it turned to love."
Pamela's words reminded Jessica of her other life, the life she'd led before Travis and Kyle, where concerts and musicians and booze-filled nights created instant couples. Usually, those nights were filled with regrets, but apparently Pamela and Hunter had gotten lucky.
"Are you sure you and Sean aren't more than friends?" Pamela asked.
"Yes," she said quickly.
"Too bad. He's a good guy, a really good guy, just in case you're wondering."
"I already know that," she said. But a part of her felt like she didn't know the guy in the photograph at all. And while that guy attracted her, he also scared her to death. She couldn't let herself forget that Sean had more than one side, and at heart he was probably more like that rocker on the stage than the man who had listened to her son talk about sharks for an entire dinner.
"Know what?" Sean asked, startling her with his sudden appearance in the doorway.
"Uh, nothing," she said.
His gaze narrowed. "What did Pamela tell you?"
"I told her you were a good catch," Pamela said.
"And I told her I wasn't interested in catching you," Jessica put in. "That we're just friends."
"Right. Just friends."
His gaze clung to hers for a long moment, and despite what she'd said, she felt a shiver run down her spine.
Pamela cleared her throat. "Sure. I totally believe both of you. Where's Hunter?"
"Downstairs," Sean said.
"Then I'll leave you two alone to do your
friend
thing," Pamela said as she left the office.
Jessica had been alone with Sean a lot the last few days, but now felt different. Maybe it was because they weren't focused on solving an old mystery at the moment. "I like the photos," she said, searching for something to say. She tipped her head toward the wall. "You really have played all over, haven't you?"
"It's been quite a ride."
"I didn't realize you played such big venues."
"On occasion." He gave her a speculative look. "Something bothering you, Jess?"
"No. Are you ready to go?"
"Almost. I want to show you something first."
"What's that?"
"Come with me."
"You're being mysterious again," Jessica complained as they walked out into the hallway.
He shrugged. "I don't have words. You just have to see it."
Sean opened a door and led her into a large open space. Sunbeams danced off the hardwood floors.
"This is the space we're planning to rent out," Sean said.
She walked into the middle of the room. "It's great. I love the floors."
"The light is really good up here, too."
"I'm sure you won't have any trouble renting it out."
"But we want to make sure we have the right tenant, someone who fits in with the creative nature of our business. I was thinking a dance studio might be perfect."
A nervous flutter ran through her stomach as she shot him a questioning look. "When did you start thinking that?"
"A few days ago, when you told me that you've been thinking about opening a studio."
"Thinking about it is a long way from doing it," she said, but she couldn't deny the spark of excitement his suggestion had elicited. "That's just a dream."
"That's how the music studio started. Sometimes dreams become reality."
"You prepared for your dream. You saved money. You found a partner. You had a plan. I just have an idea."