“Paintings,” Cabot said.
Josh got a speculative look. “Were they valuable? Maybe if Porter was into drugs, she figured she could steal Brewster’s pictures?”
“There’s no market for Hannah Brewster’s paintings,” Virginia said coolly. “At least not that I’ve ever been able to find.”
Josh swallowed some of his martini and set the glass down on the table with more force than necessary.
“There’s nothing more I can tell you,” he said. “If that’s all you’ve got, this meeting is over.”
“We’ve heard that there are rumors of financial problems at Night Watch,” Cabot said.
Josh froze, stone-faced. “Where are you going with this?”
“When did you first realize that someone in-house was embezzling from you?” Cabot asked.
For a moment Virginia didn’t think that Josh was going to respond. Then he seemed to deflate.
“A few weeks ago,” he said. “Why?”
“Think Sandra Porter was the embezzler?” Cabot asked.
“No,” Josh said grimly. “Or if she was, she’s continuing to work from beyond the grave. I checked my financials an hour ago. More money has disappeared into the ether.”
“Maybe she was working with someone else,” Cabot suggested.
Josh frowned. “A partner who killed her? I’ll admit that possibility did occur to me.”
Cabot put his business card down on the table. “If you think of anything else I should know or if you want me to refer you to a very discreet cybersecurity firm who can investigate the embezzling, give me a call.”
Josh pocketed the card without looking at it. “Do me a favor. If, in the course of your investigation, you happen to turn up any leads on who is siphoning off money from my business, will you let me know?”
“Depends,” Cabot said.
“On what?”
“Whether or not it turns out to be a conflict of interest.”
Josh frowned. “How the hell could there be a conflict of interest?”
“You never know. But if there isn’t one and if I do get a lead on your embezzler, I’ll be sure to send you my bill.”
Josh gave him a curt nod. “Fair enough. You get me some answers and you’ll get your money.”
“Out of curiosity, any idea of where I should start looking for a potential embezzler?” Cabot asked.
Josh drummed his fingers on the table. “I ran my own investigation. Took a close look at everyone in my accounting department and in the IT department. Figured the thief had to be someone who knew how to move money around.”
Virginia leaned forward. “Did you find anything?”
“No. But now I’m starting to wonder if I’m overlooking some possible suspects simply because I didn’t think they had the skill set required to rip me off. But if one of them was working with Porter, who certainly did have the skill set—”
“Got a name?” Cabot asked.
Josh hesitated. “There’s a writer in our social media department, Kate Delbridge. There’s nothing I can put my finger on, but something about her makes me wonder if she might be involved in the embezzlement.”
Virginia raised her brows. “Because she’s the last person you’d suspect?”
“No. Because several months ago we had a weekend fling while on a business trip to San Francisco. I warned her going in that I wasn’t interested in a serious relationship. Told her the ground rules—if she breathed a word about it at the office, I’d have to let her go. She seemed okay with that, but now I’m starting to wonder if she wants revenge. I can’t get a read on her.”
“Does she have the skills to embezzle and not get caught?” Cabot asked.
Josh shook his head. “No, I’m sure of that much. But it doesn’t mean she wasn’t working with Porter. Maybe she knows enough to keep the scheme running even though Porter is dead. Hell. I knew I should have fired Delbridge when we got back from that trip.”
“Why not let her go now?” Cabot asked.
Josh snorted softly. “Ever hear the old adage, ‘Keep your friends close but keep your enemies closer’? If Kate is fleecing me, I’d rather have her where I can keep an eye on her.”
“Got any other suspects?” Cabot asked.
Josh’s jaw tightened. “Maybe. But I’m not ready to give you another name. Not yet.”
CHAPTER 29
Cabot opened the passenger-side door of the SUV. Virginia climbed into the seat. He closed the door, looking thoughtful. She watched him walk around the front of the vehicle. There was a blast of cold air when he opened the door and got behind the wheel.
He sat quietly for a moment. Back in the zone, she thought. Doing his art.
“What are we waiting for?” she asked after a while.
“Thought it might be interesting to see how long Preston sits alone in that bar,” Cabot said.
“Ah, I get it. You don’t think that the CEO of a business like Night Watch spends much time drinking alone.”
“It would be unusual,” Cabot said. “People in Preston’s position usually have friends.”
“People who want to be close to the guy at the top.”
“Yeah.”
Virginia settled into the corner of the seat. “Do you do this sort of thing a lot?”
“Sit around and wait for someone to do something interesting? No. Most people are eager to share their lives with the whole world online. But once in a while there’s no substitute for the old-fashioned approach.”
“What happens if you need to use a restroom?”
Cabot looked at her. “Do you really want to know the answer to that one?”
“Probably not.”
A fleeting expression of amusement came and went in his eyes.
In the end they did not have to wait very long. A short time later Josh Preston emerged from the front door of the bar, got into his car and drove slowly through the busy South Lake Union neighborhood.
Cabot followed at a discreet distance
“Looks like he lives on the Eastside,” Virginia said.
“No, the address Anson dug up for him is on Mercer Island. Looks like Preston may be going to visit someone who lives on the Eastside.”
CHAPTER 30
Tucker Fleming stared at the screen of his phone. According to the tracking program, Virginia Troy was on the move again.
There were a lot of logical reasons why she might be in a vehicle that was currently on the 520 bridge, heading for one of the communities on the east side of Lake Washington. Maybe she was going to visit the home of a client.
Tucker watched the blip on the screen. Troy was off the bridge now and veering left toward Kirkland.
An unpleasant tingle of uncertainty iced the back of Tucker’s neck. After Sandra Porter’s death he had told himself that the situation was under control again. The cops were focused on a theory that involved drugs and an ex-boyfriend who didn’t exist.
But Cabot Sutter was proving to be unpredictable. That made him dangerous.
Tucker reached for another can of his favorite energy drink. He popped the top and took a long swallow. Back at the start he had been the master player in the game. But things kept going wrong. Hannah Brewster had escaped him by jumping off a cliff. Virginia Troy had hired a PI with links to the past. Then Sandra Porter had turned into a stalker and tried to blackmail him.
He had to regain control of the game, and he had to do it fast.
CHAPTER 31
Preston drove through the boutique village of Kirkland and stopped in front of a low-rise condominium complex on the shores of Lake Washington. He parked at the curb, got out and walked to the security gate. He pressed the buzzer. A few seconds later the gate opened. He went through it and walked along a path.
The door of number 8 opened before he could knock.
Cabot
got a glimpse of an attractive redhead, and then Preston was inside the woman’s condo and the door was closing.
“Looks like Preston has a girlfriend,” Virginia said.
Cabot drove slowly past the condominium complex and turned a corner.
“Maybe,” he said.
He pulled over to the curb and got on his phone. Anson answered immediately.
“What’s up?” he demanded.
“We’re in Kirkland. I’ve got an address for you. I need a name to go with it.”
He gave Anson the address of the lakeside condominium. Anson came back a short time later.
“The owner’s name is Laurel Jenner. I did a quick search on the social media sites that the professionals use and she came up right away. She’s the head of marketing at Night Watch.”
“Thanks,” Cabot said. “Looks like Preston and Ms. Jenner have a personal relationship.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time a boss had an affair with one of his employees,” Anson said.
“True,” Cabot said.
“They’re both single,” Anson pointed out. “No law against it. By the way, I was just about to call you. You need to come back to the office as soon as you can.”
“Something wrong?”
“No. Just someone here you should meet. Soon.”
Anson ended the connection before Cabot could say anything else.
CHAPTER 32
Traffic was light for a change. Cabot made good time getting back to the office. He opened the door of Cutler, Sutter & Salinas and came to a full stop. Virginia, however, kept going, slipping past him into the reception area.
Cabot ignored her. He did not take his eyes off the young male sprawled in one of the two client chairs. The teen was transfixed by whatever he was looking at on his phone. He worked the device in a slick, smooth, single-handed manner that made Cabot feel old.
The kid had dark hair cut in the latest trendy style. He was lean and gangly in the way of a boy making the transition to early manhood. He wore running shoes, ripped denim and a gray hoodie. Cabot figured him to be about seventeen.
The stranger lowered his phone and raised his head, revealing a sharply angled profile. He looked eerily familiar. Cabot had the sensation that he was seeing a ghost in a mirror—a ghost of himself when he had been the kid’s age.
He closed the door and looked at Anson for clarification.
“Meet Xavier Kennington,” Anson said calmly. “Xavier is your uncle’s son.”
“Uh-huh,” Cabot said.
“That makes Xavier your cousin,” Anson said meaningfully.
“Uh-huh.”
Anson moved on. “Xavier, this is Ms. Virginia Troy.”
Virginia smiled. “A pleasure to meet you, Xavier.”
Xavier shuffled to his feet, ducked his head and mumbled an acknowledgment of the introduction. But his eyes were locked on Cabot.
“Hi,” Xavier said to him.
Cabot closed the office door with great precision.
“Do your parents know you’re here?” he asked.
“Yeah. I texted Mom a few minutes ago.”
Cabot glanced at Anson.
“I think you and Xavier should talk,” Anson said.
“Anson is right,” Virginia added gently.
Cabot turned back to Xavier. “My office.”
It was an order, not a request. Wary but determined, Xavier trailed after him. Cabot closed the door, took off his windbreaker and hung it on the hook. Xavier stared, fascinated, at the holstered gun.
He’s just a kid, Cabot thought. What happened in the past was not his fault.
“Have a seat,” he said.
Xavier lowered himself into a chair. He clutched his phone in one hand as if it were a protective amulet.
Cabot sat down behind the desk.
“Why did you come to see me?” he asked, doing his level best to keep the anger out of the words. It wasn’t easy.
“Figured I’d warn you,” Xavier said.
“About?”
“Burleigh.”
“The lawyer for your grandfather’s estate?”
“He was your grandfather, too,” Xavier said quickly.
“Biologically.”
“Look, I don’t know what happened back when your mom and dad took off, but everyone says that Granddad was really pissed.”
“I’ve heard that.”
“I know your mom joined some kind of cult for a while after your dad was killed,” Xavier said. “I know Aunt Jacqueline died in a fire and that you went into the foster care system. But that’s all I knew until recently because no one ever talked much about you.”
“I gather that changed after the old man died.”
“Yeah. I wasn’t sure what was going on for a while, but I knew it had something to do with Granddad’s estate and you. Then I heard my dad talking to that lawyer, Burleigh.”
“And you found out that I was mentioned in the will, is that it?”
Xavier gave a disdainful snort. For the first time he seemed to feel as if he was on more solid ground.
“You really don’t know what’s going on, do you?” he asked.
“Not yet, but I assume you’re about to enlighten me.”
“I’m not sure of all the details, but from what I overheard, I think Burleigh is planning to screw you out of whatever you’re supposed to inherit.”
“Burleigh’s the lawyer who is handling the estate,” Cabot pointed out. “That means he’s not a beneficiary. What would he get out of the deal?”
Xavier frowned while he processed that. Then he shrugged. “I dunno. Best guess is that Dad is paying him off to screw you.”
“Why would your father do that?”
“Probably because his new girlfriend wants him to get you out of the picture so she can get more for herself. Guess I forgot to mention that Dad’s divorcing Mom so that he can marry Lizzie.”
“Lizzie?”
“Her real name’s Elizabeth but Mom calls her Lizzie, mostly because she knows it irritates Dad. Lizzie is just a few years older than me.”
“Sounds like this situation is somewhat complicated.”
“Got news for you. The whole family is complicated. If it makes you feel any better, you’re not the only one getting screwed. Mom made the mistake of signing a prenup.”
“I see.” Cabot folded his arms on top of his desk. “I appreciate the warning, Xavier, but I have to tell you that discovering that someone wants to make sure I don’t benefit from old man Kennington’s estate does not come as the biggest surprise of the year. If it makes you feel any better, I do plan to have my own lawyer look at whatever Burleigh wants me to sign.”
“Okay. Just thought I’d tell you.” Xavier surveyed the office with intense curiosity. “You’re a real private investigator?”
“As far as I know.”
“You’re wearing a gun.”
“I’m working a case at the moment, one that involves a death that occurred under suspicious circumstances.”
“A murder case.” Xavier nodded wisely. “So that’s why you’ve got the gun. That lady out there, Ms. Troy, is she your girlfriend?”
“She’s my client,” Cabot said. He stressed the word client.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Xavier, just how and when do you plan to go home?”
“I dunno. I’ve never been to Seattle. Thought I’d stay awhile.”
“Is that right? And just where will you be staying while you’re in town?”
“I dunno. I’ll figure it out.”
The phone rang in the outer office. Cabot ignored it but he got a bad feeling about the identity of the caller.
“That’s probably Mom,” Xavier said.
There was a single knock on the door. Anson opened it without
waiting for an invitation.
“Mrs. Melissa Kennington would like to speak to you,” Anson said as if the call were perfectly routine.
“Shit,” Cabot said. “What am I supposed to say?”
“Beats me,” Anson said. He closed the door.
Cabot eyed the phone. He had gone his whole life without hearing from the Kenningtons, and now they were popping up every five minutes.
He steeled himself and picked up the phone. “Cabot Sutter.”
“This is Melissa Kennington.” The voice was crisp and authoritative but it was infused with anxiety. “I understand my son is there with you.”
“Yes, he is. I believe he was just leaving.”
Xavier looked alarmed.
“He’s on his way home?” Melissa asked, urgent and hopeful.
“I’ll let you discuss it with him.”
Cabot held the phone out to Xavier, who groaned and reluctantly uncurled from the chair. He took the phone.
“I’m okay, Mom . . . Yeah, I know. But as long as I’m here in Seattle, I want to stay a couple of days. I can take care of myself. I’m almost eighteen. I’ve got some money and the credit card Dad gave me. Yes, I’m coming home soon, I promise. No, I’m not going to do anything stupid. Yes, sure, you can talk to him. He’s right here.”
Xavier held out the phone. “She wants to talk to you.”
Reluctantly, Cabot took the phone. “What do you want from me, Mrs. Kennington?”
“I want you to put him on the next plane home,” Melissa said.
Cabot studied the stubborn set of Xavier’s shoulders. “That is a very good idea, but I can’t force him to go home.”
“You have to do something.”
“What would you suggest?”
“I don’t know, but this is your fault. You’re the reason he’s there in Seattle.”
“You’re blaming me? I never even met Xavier until about ten minutes ago.”
“He’s heard about you for years,” Melissa said. “You’re the family mystery. Of course he’s curious about you.”
“I don’t know what you expect me to do. I can strongly suggest that he buy a ticket home but beyond that—”
Promise Not to Tell Page 15
