B00MV3HMDW_EBOK (11 page)

“W
ould you stop doing that?” Taryn muttered, stepping out of the SUV in which Ethan had just opened her door for her. When he’d parked the vehicle in front of a colossal sized mansion that made Aunt Lisa’s house look like a small cottage in comparison, she’d taken a moment to review her notes one more time. That had given Ethan enough time to come around to the passenger side. She shaded her eyes from the morning sun as she looked up at him, trying to make her point as she jumped out. “Friends don’t open car doors for one another. You wouldn’t do it for Jax.”

“A gentleman does it for a lady. Besides, I thought we had established that we’re more than friends,” Ethan replied, closing the door and then pressing the key fob until the vehicle beeped. He took his time looking around the estate before starting for the large stairs that led up to a sizable porch as if he hadn’t just reminded her of why she wanted him to fly back to Minny. “By the way, did you catch a glimpse of the man on horseback around a hundred yards to our four o’clock?”

“Yes,” Taryn replied, falling into step beside him and unwillingly letting the door thing go. She’d address it another time. “Just as I noticed the man standing in the last window on the left side of the porch—if you’d call it that. This place is larger than one of our Minneapolis blocks. My bet is that he is the man we are here to see.”

As Ethan rang the doorbell, Taryn looked back over the spread and couldn’t fathom living in a place like this. It was the size of a metropolitan library. It was something that was seen on television back in the eighties on those nightly soap operas. The land was vast and the house was extravagant in nature, with its long white pillars and matching double French doors. Block after block after granite block, the house rose to three levels, allowing one to only guess at the square footage. The main house could withstand a barrage from a cannon and come out fairly well. The garage that sat apart from the house separated by an open courtyard could easily contain twelve vehicles. She had to wonder if each stall was filled with yet another exotic and horribly expensive car. There were apartments over the garages and she had no doubt there was a large staff on hand to service every whim of the man of the house.

“He’s armed,” Taryn said in a low voice, finally turning back to face the door. “Now why would a man riding a horse on private property be armed with a LAR-8 with what looks like a midrange optics package? Seems a little overdramatic, wouldn’t you say?”

Ethan didn’t get a chance to reply before a woman around the age of sixty answered the door. Taryn was surprised to see that she wore an apron around her waist that tied behind her neck. Her hair was a mousy brown, yet contained a few streaks of gray to show her age. A smile that seemed rather forced was plastered on her face and it was easy to see that she wasn’t ecstatic with her employment. Taryn made a mental note to speak with this woman outside of these four walls.

“Good morning,” Ethan said, flashing his dimple. The woman wasn’t fazed in the least and Taryn found she liked the woman a little more than she had three seconds ago. “We were hoping to speak with Arthur Bowers. My name is Ethan Chambers and this is Taryn Sisal.”

If she hadn’t been studying the woman closely, Taryn would have missed the slight widening of her eyes. Ethan continued to talk, apologizing for the early hour but that they’d wanted to catch Mr. Bowers before he left for work. Taryn didn’t think the man actually went into the office that often and figured he preferred to work from home. The woman took a step back and allowed them entry. She’d introduced herself as Alice before asking that they remain in the foyer while she went to inquire whether Mr. Bowers was accepting visitors. If Taryn thought her aunt’s residence was luxurious, this place was beyond extravagant.

“So this guy inherited everything from his brother?” Ethan had leaned down close and the richness of his tone rumbled in her ear. “You said you pulled the crime report on Charles Bowers’ murder. I find it hard to believe that they didn’t find some indication of Arthur’s guilt. The fact that he inherited all of this is one major red flag.”

“The lead investigator believed that Madeline was the accused but he could never prove it. Remember, she was still alive at the time. And there is still the fact that Yvette made a stop in Houston on her way to New York twelve years ago.” Taryn quickly went over everything she’d dug up on the Bowers last night. She was literally running on three hours of sleep, but the coffee Ethan had brought her was at least carrying her through the morning. Charles and Madeline had been married. They’d had two children and both were deceased by the time Charles Bowers was murdered. Madeline died in a car accident within a year of his death. The only person left alive was Arthur Bowers. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together, so why was he still living in this house instead of behind bars? The officer in charge had to have made some connections. “I’m betting the detective looked into Madeline’s accident but finally chalked it up to coincidence.”

“What state did Barney Fife live in again?”

Before Taryn could nudge Ethan in the side to indicate he needed to behave, Alice came back from the heart of the house. Her hands were linked together and she appeared somewhat nervous. Taryn would definitely follow up with her later this evening. It shouldn’t be hard to figure out where the woman lived once she hacked into this guy’s tax records. As for Ethan’s question, it made Taryn feel more at ease. This was the man she was used to having by her side.

“Mr. Bowers said he’d see you now.” They followed Alice down a different hallway, giving Taryn time to observe the layout. There had to be at least four various entrances into the main foyer. Before they were led down the one on the left, Taryn had casually glanced through the last one on the right and saw an impressive formal sitting room with large paintings and statues adorning walls and shelves. The drapery was elegant in an eggshell hue with gold-colored cords and tassels. She figure one of the two middle hallways led to the kitchen while the other headed to what appeared to be a game area with a pool table. As Alice led them farther down the corridor, the doors of a room had been left open to reveal a library of sorts. The window on the far wall revealed a large swimming pool in the back of the residence. Colorful plants surrounded the far end and boulders were situated inside a grotto that she was sure would put the Playboy mansion to shame. It was something to behold and it was Ethan’s hand on her lower back that kept her walking behind Alice. “May I offer you a beverage?”

“We would love some coffee and possibly some popcorn,” Ethan answered for both of them, for which Taryn was initially grateful for until he’d added on the snack part. This wasn’t the time for his witty antics. “Thank you. Alice? I hope you know I’m joking about the popcorn.”

Alice smiled slightly and proceeded to open a heavy and dark oaken door, revealing a rather large office just off of the library. Unlike the smaller version of Uncle Gordon’s, Arthur Bowers’ domain was impersonal. There were no cushioned or leather chairs surrounding a quaint coffee table with liquor arranged on a tray. There were no bookshelves that housed classic literature or knickknacks collected over the years. What Taryn saw was a very sizeable desk that looked like it hadn’t seen a piece of paper and a fireplace that gave the impression it had never been used. The man standing in the middle of the room appeared as detached as everything else.

Arthur Bowers was a large man with a wide girth. He wasn’t what one would call overweight, but his robust frame made it appear so. He stood at least two inches taller than Ethan, and like her Uncle Gordon he was wearing cowboy boots along with a black suit that probably cost more than her entire wardrobe. His hair was black and peppered with gray, and his tanned leather skin gave away his love for the sun.

“I’m Art Bowers.” The oil tycoon slipped his hands from his pockets and rocked back on his heels slightly, as if he were proud to make that announcement. “What can I do for you on this fine morning?”

“Mr. Bowers, I’m Ethan Chambers and this is Taryn Sisal.” Ethan removed his hand from Taryn’s back and shook hands with the man that hopefully held all the answers they were seeking. “We apologize for stopping by without calling first. We appreciate you taking the time to meet with us.”

“Most certainly. Call me Art, by the way. We’re not that formal around these parts.” Art took his time looking both of them over before spinning on the heel of his boot and walking around his desk. He motioned toward the two guest chairs in front. “Please have a seat. Alice should be in shortly with our coffee and your
popcorn
.”

Taryn remembered distinctly the door being closed when Alice had offered them coffee and they accepted. She glanced at the monitor on Art’s desk to see if there was a video feed airing from the corridor, but the screen was blank. They all took a seat and before anyone could start the conversation, Alice had returned with a tray of china coffee service and a matching bone china bowl brimming with fresh popped kernels on what appeared to be sterling silver tray. Really? The gesture was overboard. Taryn noticed that while she poured the coffee and made sure each guest was satisfied with their cup, she snuck a glance or two in Taryn’s direction.

“So, what is it that you think I can help you with?” Art asked, leaning back in his chair and switching his gaze between the two of them. Alice silently took her leave.

“My father, George Sisal, passed away a few years ago and something has come to light in which I would like some answers to,” Taryn replied after having fortified herself with a long sip of coffee. The rich flavor indicated this was not your regular grocery store brand. “Please don’t think I want to cause any family drama. All I want are some answers and then we’ll be on our way.”

“George Sisal.” Art said the name as if he were speaking of a bug who had gotten in the way of his shoe. Taryn inhaled deeply, trying not to take exception. It wasn’t like she was too keen on the idea that her father had an affair with a married woman. “I guess I really can’t blame George for my sister-in-law’s penchant for younger men.”

“I take it you’re referring to Madeline?”

“Madeline married my brother for his money,” Art replied abruptly, taking Taryn’s leading question and following along, although she wasn’t fooling herself into thinking he didn’t know what she’d done. He appeared cunning and very sure of his abilities to give the information he wanted to give…not what they truly wanted. At this point, Taryn would take what she could get and then move on to someone else. The answers were here. They just needed unearthed. “She was manipulative and never satisfied. Her pastime was sleeping with younger men in order to make herself feel beautiful, regardless of the fact that my brother was working eighteen to twenty hour days to make his company a success so that she could live in the lavish lifestyle she preferred.”

“So my father was one of these…men…that you’re referring to.” Taryn felt slightly sick to her stomach and set the mug on her leg. “I know this conversation must be hard for you considering Charles was your brother, but I need to know if their affair resulted in a child.”

Art didn’t reply right away, giving Taryn her answer. She wasn’t sure what to think or feel. This entire time she knew that Yvette was closely related to her, but to have it confirmed like this was a little disheartening. One, she had a half sister that she never got to know. Two, Yvette had somehow become involved in a trade where she made money from killing people. Three, Ryland had known this. Taryn remained silent and waited Art out, sensing that he would say more.

“To tell you the truth, I always suspected but it wasn’t my place to ask.” Art opened up a desk drawer and pulled out a picture frame. He didn’t immediately hand it over, and instead studied the photograph in his hand. Taryn’s fingers itched to get a hold of it, confirming what she and Ethan had already figured out. The girl in the picture had to be Yvette. “This is Sabrina at her graduation. She went missing one week later. Looking at you sitting there is like witnessing what Sabrina would have looked like at your age. Maybe things would have turned out differently had the truth come out long ago, but Madeline wasn’t about to lose her a rich husband over one of her many sordid affairs.”

Art slowly handed over the framed photograph and Taryn took it from his fingers, all the while knowing his eyes never left her face. He wanted to see her reaction and she had to wonder why. Taking her time and schooling her features, she finally looked at the photo. Sure enough, it was Yvette Capre when she was seventeen years old. Now that this was confirmed, it didn’t surprise Taryn that Sabrina’s pictures had somehow been erased from her high school website, or for that matter, anywhere on the Internet. Whenever Sabrina Bowers had become Yvette Capre, she’d made sure no trace of evidence could lead back to her childhood. As for the brother, Travis Bowers, his military file contained everything Taryn needed to know about him.

“I guess this confirms my belief that my dad fathered another child.” Taryn made sure that her fingers didn’t shake as she handed the photo over to Ethan. He’d been quiet, allowing her to take the lead on this so-called interview. “It makes me sad that I didn’t get to know her. Would you mind telling me what happened to Sabrina?”