by Jane Drager
Baylor took the keys off the ring. “They’re for cylinder locks, usually for a heavy-duty door.” He looked at Jan. “Any ideas, Ms. Lambert?”
Still biting her lip, Jan shook her head and shot a quick glance at her brother who sat with arms folded across his chest, watching Baylor.
Lauren rested her arms on the table and wagged a finger. “You know, Detective, one morning, I received a call from the landlord, Mr. O’Reilly. He wanted the twenty bucks Eric owed him, or he’d toss his stuff to the curb. I’ll bet Eric is renting the storage locker in the basement. That has a heavy metal door.”
Jan leaned forward. “How do you know what’s in the basement?”
The poor girl was so ga-ga over her lousy fiancé, she never noticed how often Lauren stopped to talk to the landlord before heading to the apartment. Hell, Lauren even had coffee one night with Mrs. Gleisberg, the tenant on the second floor. Lauren shrugged. “I helped Mr. O’Reilly carry a bunch of old bicycles from the basement. I noticed the locker then.” She’d bet any amount of money Eric stashed more than a necklace.
****
A regular parade flowed from the conference room and down to the street. While Jan and her lawyer stepped into Baylor’s car with a uniformed officer, Deems guided Lauren toward the limo. He had better ways of spending a busy Monday morning, and a quick glance at his watch told him he just wasted an awful lot of time. So much waited at the office and required his attention, but he dropped everything when Lou called. Finally, Jan’s friggin’ fiancé was behind bars. Lauren would be safe to walk without fear. Unfortunately, Lauren caught him checking his watch.
She jerked her head in Baylor’s direction. “I can go with them.”
“No. I’d like to see the whole matter resolved. This way, I can concentrate on work without worrying about you.”
She shot him a look he didn’t understand, but he was too aggravated to question her. He waved her into the limo.
Arriving at the brownstone, Lauren led the way to the front door.
She lacked her usual springy step and even glanced over her shoulder as if in apology. She’d taken quite a beating Saturday, and all the money in the world wouldn’t erase her bruises. She needed only time. He winked with what he hoped gave her reassurance.
Approaching the side door on the first floor, Lauren knocked.
Seconds later, Mr. O’Reilly answered, chewing. His brows shot upward. “Ms. Howell? What happened to you?”
She waved aside the comment. “Long story.” She introduced Detective Baylor. “Is Eric renting your old storage locker?”
With a brow cocked, he glanced from one face to the other. “Well, yeah, but Drummer is the only one with a key—his stipulation, not mine. But I haven’t seen him in a few days.” A nod toward Jan. “She should know his whereabouts.”
Baylor stepped forward. “We have the key, Mr. O’Reilly. Can we have a look?”
“Sure, hold on.” Pulling on a retractable cord attached to his belt, he extended a key ring then gestured for them to follow. “I keep the door to the basement locked. Anyone who goes down has to notify me first, including Drummer.” Leading them to a door under the stairwell, he unbolted the lock and flipped on a light. Then, he stepped aside with a wave. “All yours. Let me know when you’re done.”
Deems followed Lauren down a set of wooden stairs with a metal tube railing attached to the wall for support. The others descended like a herd of cattle clomping on the stairs. The finished basement had a concrete floor and white-painted cinder block walls, but like most basements, the space became a catch-all for junk. If he hadn’t invested in high-rises at an early age, he’d have purchased every storage facility in the country. People just refused to throw out their treasures, opting instead to store worthless crap at exorbitant prices.
Maneuvering around piled boxes, Lauren led the way toward the rear to a metal door.
Deems recognized the style and shape as one of the many bomb shelters built in the 1960s when the threat of the Cuban missile crisis loomed.
Taking the two keys from his pocket, Baylor tried one key then the other. The second key fit perfectly and turned the cylinder. He opened the door and flipped a light switch.
The small four-by-eight room held junk piled to the ceiling. Boxes, small pieces of furniture, car parts, and sporting equipment—some of which still dangled a price tag.
“This stuff is from his apartment,” Jan said with a catch in her throat.
Baylor rubbed the nape of his neck. “We might be here a while.”
Probably all day, Deems thought with a frown. Like looking for a needle in a haystack.
Stepping toward the detective, Lauren wagged a finger. “Eric probably tossed the necklace’s box, but I’m sure he wasn’t stupid enough to leave a seven-million-dollar piece of jewelry unprotected. A velvet cloth bag, for example.”
Throughout the shifting of the contents, Deems spotted the moisture building at the base of Jan’s eyes. What would she do now with her young heart broken? Did she still love Eric despite his murderous rampage? Hopefully, she wouldn’t visit him in prison and cause Mom and Dad a stroke.
Deems glanced at Lauren who helped Baylor shift through the boxes. Nothing stopped this woman from dirtying her hands, and a sense of pride swelled within his chest. Even with sore hands and a splinted pinkie, she rifled through Eric’s junk when most women would be afraid of breaking their nails.
With a grunt, Baylor hauled out a small suitcase and set it on a box. Releasing the latches, he threw open the lid and uncovered a black velvet bag.
While everyone’s attention centered on Baylor’s find, Deems rechecked his watch. If he hadn’t received the phone call this morning about trouble brewing in Salt Lake City, he’d be more patient with the slow process. Hell, even Lauren repeatedly glanced back with a brow raised, but she’d have to deal with his constant interruptions in order to understand a wealthy man’s world.
Baylor stretched a thin draw string and tilted the opening toward his palm. A brilliant sapphire and diamond-studded necklace sparkled from the overhead light.
Jan gasped. The detective whistled, and Lauren merely stared in awe.
Finally, Deems could return to the office and find out what the hell happened in Salt Lake City.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Wow. The necklace was the most gorgeous piece of jewelry she’d ever seen. The diamonds alone were maybe three to four carats and surrounded six brilliant sapphires with one blue gem hanging low enough to grace a woman’s cleavage. Not that she’d wear such a piece. She’d need a wardrobe to match, and right now, she owned one very expensive black dress.
While talking on his cell phone, Baylor led the way up the staircase. Solemn Jan followed her attorney, and taking up the rear was Lauren and Deems. Midway, Lauren gave a quick glance over her shoulder to see Deems again looking at his watch. For some reason, her heart sank. A reminder of their disparities, she supposed. A man too busy to stop and smell the roses.
Once out of the basement and walking the short hall toward the front door, Jan caught her arm. “Lauren, I am truly sorry.”
Yeah, well. At a loss for words, Lauren simply nodded and patted Jan’s hand.
Saying goodbye to everyone, Jan and her lawyer climbed the stairs to Jan’s third floor apartment.
Still on his phone, Baylor headed for the police cruiser while Deems took Lauren’s elbow and led her toward the limo. Again, Deems checked his watch. What the hell was he doing, counting the minutes?
His cell phone rang. Excusing himself, he stepped off to the side.
Forcing a smile, Lauren approached Lou who held open the limo’s rear door. With one foot in the door, she shot another quick peek at Deems. He paced the sidewalk, phone to his ear, and a frown creasing his forehead. Sighing, she met Lou’s gaze. “Something’s bothering him.”
“He’s a busy man.”
Too busy, probably. How much time would they spend together once the sexual novelty wore off? Shaking
her head, she stepped into the limo.
A minute later, Deems slipped onto the seat. “I’m returning to the office, Lauren. I’ve an emergency.”
His face had changed to stone with a gaze full of fire. She hoped to spend the rest of the day with Deems cuddled in his arms while he consoled her over her second brush with Eric. Not to be. She was in her last week for everything. Thursday, Antonio’s class would end with an Italian feast prepared by his lovely wife, Carmela, and the Stewarts were scheduled to return Friday afternoon. She’d love to spend the weekend with Deems before returning to Arendtsville on Sunday and maybe discuss their relationship. He asked her several times to stay, but she was so damn undecided. Tonight perhaps, she’d sit him down and have a frank discussion about their relationship.
As the limo rolled alongside the condo building’s curb, Deems grabbed her hand and pressed the penthouse key onto her palm. “Make yourself at home. I don’t know how long I’ll be.” He kissed her lightly then shook a finger in her face, his expression stern. “The doctor said to rest. You’ve had enough excitement for a while.”
A while? More like a lifetime. Feeling abandoned at the curb, Lauren sighed as the limo drove away. Deems hadn’t asked about her meeting with Jo-Jo. In fact, he hardly said two words from the moment he arrived at the station. She attributed the silence to anger toward his sister, but now, she wasn’t so sure. Whatever happened to foul his mood must be a doozy.
Opening her palm, she stared at the key thrust so hastily into her hand. The key was a simple symbolic gesture. A necessity in a man’s point of view—to open then lock a door with ease. To a woman, the key meant home and a place to belong. She should feel happy Deems trusted her with the use of his penthouse, but the doubts rolling around inside her heart were enough to make her cry. She entered the condo building.
Johnny stood with a big smile stretching onto his thin lips. “The Stewarts’ place will be ready by Wednesday at the latest, Ms. Howell. I understand you’ll be in the penthouse for a while? If you need anything, just call the desk.”
“Thanks, Johnny. Any news on Robert?”
“He’s doing fine, ma’am, and scheduled to be released from the hospital day after tomorrow. But we don’t expect him on duty for a couple of weeks. Night shift security will be handled by Lester. Good man.”
Lauren stepped into the penthouse elevator and inserted the key. Since she was alone and heading to Deems’ luxurious condo, she took stock of the opulence, starting with the elevator. Marble walls and floor surrounded her and only one key slot so no stopping at the fourth floor to check on the Stewarts’ condo. Brass handle bars lined the perimeter and matched the brass-covered doors. When the elevator stopped and its doors opened, she stared at the black walnut entrance with its strange keyhole. Funny what money can buy. With the same key, she unlocked the door and stepped into the living room.
Huge wasn’t the appropriate word to describe the place. Enormous maybe. She’d never seen anything so big in her life. Hands down, the room beat the size of her father’s apple warehouse.
Approaching the center, she ran her fingers along the sofa’s plush upholstery then onward to the glass end tables, the silk lampshades, and the dining room table with its beautiful dark cherry suite.
A powerful wave of awe hit. She felt like a queen inspecting her castle, ready to snap her fingers to request a new picture on the wall or to rearrange the furniture. She wouldn’t do either, of course. Everything was perfect…absolutely perfect.
As she strolled in the direction of the bedroom, she opened the first side door to see a corner office surrounded by windows. On entering the master bedroom, she caught sight of the red rose resting on her pillow. Lifting the stem with two fingers, she sniffed the fragrant petals and smiled. When had he the time to get a single red rose? The man was so damn sweet. Laying the rose onto the night table, she refreshed herself in the bathroom and retraced her steps to the living room.
Beyond the two sofas, three doors led to three more bedrooms, each with its own bath. Another door opened to a hall bathroom for guests, and a fourth room—a vacant corner room—contained an impressive array of windows. Great lighting for canvas painting. She entered the empty room and stood before the windows. The view faced Central Park, and her breath caught at the sight. Fifteen stories above the city with a breathtaking view. Although…
Leaving the room, she headed for the spiral staircase leading to the roof. After ensuring an unlocked door behind her, she walked into bright sunlight and stopped. The roof resembled a huge patio with square stones for a floor, lounge chairs and tables, a small flower garden, and a canvas-covered barbecue grill. A wrought-iron rail prevented any drunken guests from falling to their death, and toward this, she ambled.
Her breath caught at the bird’s-eye view of the city. From this height, the sounds of traffic and people had a muted quality, and she distinctly smelled the park with its trees and cut grass. Tears filled her eyes. This view, more than anything, could convince her to stay, but without legal ties, their relationship might end with a snap of his fingers. She’d be in the same situation as now—no job and no money. She’d love to experience this type of life for a little while, but she knew herself. She wasn’t a woman who lounged around and polished her nails. Work was inbred, and she seriously doubted a billionaire’s mistress/wife/girlfriend worked for a living. On the other hand, she refused to be a man’s sex toy. Damn, I don’t know what to do.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
From the moment he stepped into his limo, Deems answered one phone call after another. Apparently, the trouble brewing in Salt Lake City required his immediate attention, and his physical presence could be the dam to stop the flood of lawsuits. After a quick call to Lauren and hearing her disappointed voice, he almost told his legal team to go to the airport without him, but he always handled every crisis personally. Lauren needed to understand the importance of the company’s reputation. So, grabbing an already packed suitcase from his office closet, he and his team boarded his private jet bound for Utah.
By Thursday, three whole days away from Lauren, Deems returned to his office, ranting and raving at anyone brave enough to step in his path. The trip to Salt Lake was a total disaster with the company facing one building code violation after another, and all because the Utah manager acted like a slumlord instead of following the company’s maintenance guidelines. Deems fired the man on the spot. For the next forty-eight hours, he and his legal team worked on a game plan to combat the multi-million-dollar lawsuits accumulating by the day.
He’d spent endless meetings with code inspectors, politicians, and lawyers, one after the other, and each with their own demands. With every blessed hour, he wondered why the hell he came in the first place when he’d rather be with Lauren. He missed her terribly—more than he ever believed possible, missed her beautiful smile, and the sparkle in her green eyes. Every time he dialed her phone number, another call interrupted. Hell, he hardly had a chance to sleep, let alone talk to the woman who only had a few days left in New York.
His assistant, Betty, poked her head through the partially opened door. “Has the fire died yet?”
He’d been pacing before the large windows like an animal trapped in a cage, desk phone glued to his ear, and barking one command after another. He barely ended one call and prepared to make another when she interrupted. With chest tight and head throbbing, if he wasn’t careful, he’d have a stroke and find himself flat on the floor gurgling like an idiot. A solid week of high blood pressure. He desperately needed the comfort of Lauren’s arms. Had she decided to stay? After her taste of the good life, what sensible woman could refuse? All her problems would be his, and he’d love to come home every night to see her smile and hear her lovely voice.
Carefully placing the phone onto its cradle, he sucked in a deep breath and slowly released. He gave Betty a half-grin. “I’m sorry. You won’t believe what our Utah manager did.” He stared at the silent phone and sighed. “I need to take a brea
ther.” He flopped into his leather chair.
Stepping inside, she stood, holding the door like a shield. “I’ve heard some of the gossip, and most made my skin crawl. You open for visitors?”
“Depends. Who’s out there?”
“Mark Jordan. He came to say goodbye.”
“Oh—yes. Send him in and hold my calls.” Mark’s visit afforded a much-needed break. Something different to think about besides this friggin’ Salt Lake problem.
Betty waved Mark into the office and quietly closed the door.
In full suit and tie, Mark stood in the center of the room like a soldier ready to face the firing squad. Since Deems hadn’t talked to Lauren, he had no idea what transpired at their meeting. He should have told everyone else to go to hell and called her. But one problem after another required his immediate attention. When the dust cleared, he’d make some serious changes to the demands on his time. He leaned back in his chair and swiveled. “You have your work cut out for you, Mark.”
“Yes, sir, I do.” He inched forward, his posture rigid. “So, I’m not fired?”
Mark sounded like a little boy waiting for punishment. Deems wagged a finger. “As long as you clean up your act, I’ll give you another try. You still have an impressive evaluation from Dan.”
With slow steps, Mark approached one of the chairs facing the desk and ran his hand along the top of the leather backrest. “Excuse me, sir, but do I have any guarantees about returning?” He grimaced. “I might serve time, and the company policy—”
Deems waved aside the comment. “Yes, I know, no criminal records. I’ll connect you with one of our lawyers. Maybe he can swing a deal, you know, like community service—provided you rectify all the trouble you’ve caused.” He sat forward and hit the intercom button. “Betty, see if Taylor is in his office. I want Mark to pay him a visit.”
