For Love of Money (14 page)

He leveled an exasperated glare at her that said she’d hear about that later, but she figured if Lillian wanted to talk to her about something personal, what business was it of his?

“Didn’t Tim mention this when you questioned him?” Holly asked.

JC immediately clammed up. “You know I can’t tell you that.”

A brisk tap sounded and a man stepped through the office doorway.

“Hello.” His hands swept through the greeting gesture in sync with his words. The interpreter had arrived.

To her surprise, Holly was reluctant to leave. What else did Lillian know that JC wouldn’t tell her later?

Chapter Twenty-two

Holly dashed into her office and grabbed her briefcase.

“Remind my mother about the Fred Zhang meeting, please,” she asked Tracey. “I’ll go straight there after Marcy’s funeral.”

She pushed through the front door. Two magpies exploded off the pavement in a flurry of black feathers. Instantly, she flashed back to the clearing at Big Flats and the seagulls surrounding Marcy’s body.

A shudder rippled through her. She rejected the image, but her eyes tracked the birds to a Russian olive tree on the hill behind the office. When she moved to the Tri-Cities, she’d thought the black and blue birds handsome and couldn’t understand why the locals hated the cheeky scavengers. She’d considered it more prejudice toward an import—until the first time she’d seen magpies eating quail babies in her backyard.

She bypassed the spot that interested the scavengers. She didn’t want to know what piece of road-kill had attracted them.

A sedan entering the parking lot distracted her. Tim wheeled his Mercedes into a parking space two cars beyond her BMW. She had a million questions for him, although
What exactly was your relationship with Marcy?
might not be the place to start.

Tim climbed from his car, doing his best imitation of a casual male.

Holly stifled a sigh. Like Monday’s drunk never happened.

“Kaylin give you the information for our meeting?” He reached into his car and pulled out a leather satchel.

“Who? Oh, the temp. She sent over a bunch of stuff. Didn’t you hire a bookkeeper? It’s sorta expensive having us pull the papers together.”

Tim waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about the bill. Things were tight for a while. That’s all settled.”

“Glad to hear it.” Holly opened her BMW’s back door and dropped her briefcase on the seat. “I was surprised to see you started new companies.”

“New companies?”

“There were a couple. One’s TNM Ventures.”

“Oh. How…?” His voice trailed off.

“I noticed a property tax bill.”

Nodding, he blew out a breath. “That’s not an operating company. That’s land I bought on the Snake River. I thought it’d make a nice weekend place.”

“It’s a lot of land.” Although zoned agricultural, the bill had been substantial. And according to the tax statement, there was at least one building on the property.

He dropped his satchel beside the Mercedes and leaned against the fender. “Most of it’s planted in grapes—the water rights came with the land.”

“If it’s on the river, I’m sure it’s beautiful.”

“Listen.” Tim lowered his voice to a confidential tone. “Don’t mention the land to Nicole, okay?”

Holly’s internal radar pinged and questions raced through her mind. Why would he hide the land from his wife? Damn, why did any man hide assets? Preparing for a divorce? Having an affair?

Were her instincts right on track—Tim’s relationship with Marcy was more than friendship?

“I bought the land as a gift. Now…” Tim stepped closer. “Nicole’s spotting. We’re afraid she’ll miscarry again.”

Miscarry? Holly’s brain recalibrated. Totally missed that one. “I’m sorry, Tim. I didn’t know she’s pregnant.”

“She just found out. We didn’t want to tell anybody until she gets past the first trimester.”

“That makes sense.” She hoped he didn’t expect anything more. She didn’t know the first thing about children or pregnancy.

“We both want kids.” Tim continued as if she hadn’t spoken. He pushed his hand through his hair. “It’s just, lately Nicole’s obsessed with having a baby. It’s all she can talk about. I’m worried about her.”

Holly made sympathetic noises. What could she say? She wasn’t hearing the tick of her own biological clock.

Frustration tightened his mouth. “She’s seen so many doctors. Most think her pregnancy problems are related to her childhood, but none of them can give us a reason why she keeps miscarrying.”

Tim looked miserable. Holly wanted to kick herself. When she saw him on Monday, he’d probably been drunk and crying over their baby, not Marcy. Why couldn’t guys ever admit what was truly bothering them? Or that they even had feelings? “I’m really sorry. I hope things work out.”

With a start, she remembered Nicole’s comment earlier that week about getting so “big.” Was she in denial about the miscarriage? That had to make things harder on Tim.

He dropped his hands to his thighs. “Look, Holly. This is probably bad timing, but I’m glad I caught you. There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

She glanced at her watch. “I’m on my way to a meeting. Are you going to Marcy’s funeral this afternoon? We can talk then.”

“Maybe.” He studied the toes of his shoes.

She controlled the instinctive double-take. The question had been rhetorical. “She worked for you. I thought you were friends. Why wouldn’t you go?”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do. That isn’t what I wanted to talk about.” He traced one of the slashes on her car hood. “Sorry about your car.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t thrilled either.” Could ya get to the point?

She forced her leg not to jiggle with impatience.

Gaze locked on the car, he brushed away a fleck of paint. “I talked to Alex. He told me you two had a fight.”

“Anything between Alex and me doesn’t involve you.” She reached for the car door handle.

“Come on, Holly. You know the argument was about the mess at the wake. His mother can be a royal bitch. I’ve seen her screw up his relationships before.”

“If you knew that, why’d you introduce us?”

Tim shifted his weight against the Beemer. “Marcy said you weren’t dating much. We thought it’d be fun for you to meet people, get out of the house.”

Angry warmth flooded Holly’s cheeks. So now she was some kind of charity case?

“Don’t be mad.” Tim slipped his hand around her arm. “Look, I saw how Mrs. Montoya manipulated Alex at the wake. I can help patch things up. The guy’s really into you. You were good together. Don’t throw something away before you give it a chance.”

Why were they even having this conversation? Holly tugged her arm free and held up a warning finger. “One, I’m not the one throwing anything away. And two, like I said, this is between Alex and me.”

So, butt. Out.

Tim held up his hands in male surrender mode, which meant he didn’t understand a word she’d said. “Hey. I’m not interfering.”

“Yes, you are, and you’re out of line.”

“
Me
out of line?” Tim’s face flushed. “I heard about the way you were carrying on with that detective.
You’re
the one screwing over your boyfriend. And it becomes
my
business when I wonder if that’s how you handle your business affairs.”

“Carrying on? Screwing over?” she sputtered. “
Affairs?
Is there something else on your mind?”

His hands flew forward, placating. “Oh, shit. I’m not handling this right. It’s just…I mean—”

“I get the message. But let me make something perfectly clear. Business always comes first. You’re my client. I don’t even discuss client business on a cell phone in public. What you implied—that I’d blab about your business—is the equivalent of me accusing you of building a new office tower with substandard materials.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did.” She didn’t bother to curb her impatience.

“I wasn’t smearing your rep, honestly. Ah, hell.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Alex called. Between that detective hounding both of us and his seeing you two together… The guy’s got a lot of pride.”

“Make up your mind. Alex is into me. He thinks I ‘screwed him over.’ He has so much pride he couldn’t say, ‘Excuse me, Mama, my friend’s here all alone, and it looks like she needs some help.’”

Tim’s hand rocked. “Nobody’s perfect.”

“Including you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You knew about Lee Alders. Why didn’t you say anything? If you had, maybe JC wouldn’t be hounding you.”

Tim flinched, but didn’t bother denying he knew about Lee. “What was there to say?”

“Everything. He came here. He
threatened
Marcy.” She raised frustrated hands. “Was Marcy seeing him again?”

Surprise and what might have been anger flitted across Tim’s face. “Not that I was aware of.”

That wasn’t much of an answer. Arms folded, she waited for more. He’d witnessed a key exchange between Marcy and Lee and still hadn’t admitted it.
Why the lies?

Tim pushed away from her Beemer and paced to the front of the vehicle and back. “I saw the newspaper this morning. The police think Alders killed her?” He raised a questioning eyebrow.

Like JC would tell her about the latest police theory. Holly shrugged. “Do you think he could’ve killed her?”

Tim focused his gaze on the car fender, his face a study in concentration. “Maybe.”

“Maybe you should put talking to the cops on your priority list.” Holly opened the driver’s door to slide in.

“Hmm?” Tim glanced in her direction. “Yeah. I have to do that eventually.”

Holly stopped, surprised. “You really haven’t talked to them?”

“I’m supposed to meet with them today.”

“Alex and I talked to them days ago.”

“I had to reschedule. I have a lot on my plate.”

“We
are
talking about Marcy’s murder.”

“What am I supposed to tell them? I don’t know who killed her.” Tim’s expression was more irritated than concerned. “My foreman says the cops are questioning everybody at the Yakima site. The construction guys, delivery people. All the surrounding businesses. Hell, they even talked to the guys in the Taco Truck.”

“Can’t say they aren’t thorough.”

“All they’ve done is waste a lot of time I have to pay for.”

“So give them a better suspect.”

“Alders could’ve done it.” Tim shoved his hands into his pocket and rocked on his heels. “The guy’s such an asshole, he probably did.”

Thank you, Captain Obvious. “I need to go. I’ll see you and Alex on Friday at eleven.”

“Right.”

She hopped in the BMW. “Unless I dump your files on one of the managers,” she muttered.

Chapter Twenty-three

Holly entered the now-familiar office at the Tom-Tom Casino. If she hurried, she could still make it to her meeting on time.

Peter rose from his desk and met her halfway across the room. He greeted her with a handshake. “Do you have the engagement letter?”

“Ready for your signature,” she said. “It has everything we discussed.”

Within minutes, Peter had signed the contract and they’d scheduled the initial accounting fieldwork. “Let me walk you out,” he said.

In contrast to Monday’s easy conversation, a tense silence lay between them. Holly tried to think of something she might’ve said or done to upset him, but drew a blank.

“Listen, Holly.” Peter rubbed his chin. “I got to thinking about Tim Stevens, what we talked about. The brunette.”

Ah. So that was bothering him.

“She wasn’t his wife.”

Big shock. “How did you know?” she asked.

He studied the floor, not meeting her eyes. “Tim threw a Texas Hold ‘Em tourney a while back. Invited a bunch of his contractors and their wives.”

“Oh.”

“His wife ran around, talking to everybody, but you could tell she didn’t like it.”

“Didn’t like what?”

He shrugged. “Being here. Gambling.”

“I guess you must be pretty good at reading people.”

“Occupational hazard.”

“So the brunette wasn’t his wife. She could’ve been a friend.”

“Nope.” Peter scuffed his toe along a peeling seam in the carpet. “Look, I’m not here to be the morality police. It’s just my security chief started seeing her. I told him not to get involved with a woman who’d cheat with a married man, but…” He grimaced.

Part of her wanted to defend Marcy—if it was Marcy—while the rest of her was appalled. Marcy was seeing Creepy Security Guy?

Maybe she was attracted to weird guys. Look at her husband.

“Your security chief was dating her?”

Peter shrugged. “A couple of days after they were in here, he said he was seeing her.”

“Hang on a minute.” She propped her briefcase against the closest machine and pulled out the group picture. “Is this the woman you’re talking about?”

He laid a finger on Marcy’s image. “Like I said, pretty and upbeat. I can see why men are attracted to her.”

“She’s dead,” Holly blurted.

Peter froze. “Are you sure?” He raised a hand. “Of course you’re sure. Damn, what a waste.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

She watched the other shoe drop. His head turned, his gaze darting around the room. “I’m sure my security chief didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“I’m sure he didn’t.”

Holy crap, JC needed to know about this.

Holly hurried to her car. What had Marcy been doing with Peter’s chief of security? That didn’t track with the Marcy she knew. Then again, did the possibility of Marcy having an affair with Tim ever really register?

Movement at the casino entrance caught her eye. Creepy Security Guy was leaning against the doorframe, a familiar posture she couldn’t quite place. He raised a hand, a finger-gun pointing at her.

Her mouth went dry and a band of tension made breathing difficult. Had he heard Peter tell her about Marcy? Was the finger-gun a threat?

She started the car, then sneaked another peek. A chill sifted down her spine.
He was still staring at her
.

The exit was on the other side of the parking lot. Great. Now she had to drive past him. She eased the car forward, determined to focus straight ahead.

The figure by the door drew her gaze like hooks were anchored in her eyeballs.

He touched the brim of his hat, a casual salute, his face lifting from the shadow for a split second.

Her breathing stopped.

No. It couldn’t be
.

Black spots crowded the edge of her sight, left tunnel vision that obscured the pavement. Somehow, she made it out of the parking lot, then pulled to the side of the road.

She gripped the steering wheel with shaking hands.

Oh, my God. She knew the guy was freaking her out but now she knew why. Creepy Security Guy looked just like Frank Phalen.

But it couldn’t be him.

Could it?