White Lies

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  “Huh.” Archer should have looked triumphant but he didn’t. Instead he gave Jake a disapproving glance and then turned back to her. “Where are you planning to stay while you’re considering my offer?”

  The question caught her flat-footed. Should have seen that one coming, she thought. The truth was, she hadn’t given the matter any thought at all. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to look at Jake.

  “I’ll find a hotel,” she began.

  Jake looked at Archer. “She’ll stay here with me.”

  It was a statement of fact, not a suggestion or an invitation.

  Archer and Clare both looked at him. Clare couldn’t think of anything to say. Evidently Archer was equally at a loss for words.

  Jake punched the button to start the coffee.

  . . .

  Archer stalked out of the house a short time later. Jake accompanied him to the door and then returned to the kitchen.

  “He was certainly in a foul mood,” Clare observed. “Does he get like that a lot?”

  “Archer has a temper,” Jake said neutrally.

  She slouched in her chair and jammed her hands into the pockets of her trousers. “I thought he’d be pleased that I’m hanging around to mull over his job offer. Maybe he changed his mind after I got questioned again by the police in a second mysterious death. That kind of thing is not good for the Glazebrook image.”

  “That’s not why he’s pissed.”

  “What other reason could there be?”

  “He’s annoyed because you’re here.”

  “Here?”

  “With me.”

  “What?” She got her mouth closed. “Why should he care if I’m staying with you?”

  “You’re his daughter,” Jake said with exaggerated patience. “Fathers always have a problem with the men their daughters are sleeping with when said daughters are not married to the men in question.”

  “You’re joking.”

  Jake shook his head. “Don’t blame him. Some kind of primitive instinct. Deep in his gut he’s afraid that I’m taking advantage of you. Hell, I’d feel the same way if I had a daughter.”

  “I’m thirty-two years old,” she yelped.

  “And you were still trying to explain things to your mother yesterday, as I recall.”

  “Yes, but she’s my mother.”

  “So? Archer is your father.”

  “For heaven’s sake, he didn’t even know I existed until a few months ago.”

  “Doesn’t make it any easier to deal with.”

  Jake’s cool certainty gave her pause. “You seem to have this all figured out,” she said.

  “I knew it was going to be a problem.”

  Guilt assailed her. “Maybe I shouldn’t stay here. I don’t want to put you on the spot. You’re working for Archer, after all.”

  “You’re staying.” He sat down at the kitchen table and took out a notebook. “There’s no point arguing about it. Archer will do whatever he thinks he has to do. I’ll deal with it when the time comes.”

  She eyed the notebook. “What’s that for? Are you going to make notes about my conspiracy theories?”

  He looked at the notebook. “I was thinking more in terms of a grocery shopping list. Now that I’ve got a guest in the house, I’m going to need more food.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  “You want to know who Brad was sleeping with?” Elizabeth leaned back in the clean-lined red leather office chair, clearly startled by the question. “Why?”

  They had agreed to meet at Elizabeth’s office even though it was a Saturday afternoon and Glazebrook Interiors was technically closed for the weekend. There were a couple reasons for that decision. Clare knew that Elizabeth would not be comfortable discussing her relationship with Brad in front of Jake, which nixed Jake’s house as a meeting place. The second reason was that Clare had no desire to go back to the Glazebrook estate.

  Elizabeth’s elegant business was located in a modern, upscale shopping arcade filled with high-end gift shops, exclusive furniture galleries and a variety of boutiques that featured one-of-a-kind accessories for the home.

  “Because I’ve decided that I need to know more about what really happened when Brad was killed,” Clare said.

  Alarm flashed across Elizabeth’s face. “I thought we agreed that it would be best if we both kept quiet about our conspiracy theories. No one wants to hear them, Clare. Not Mom and Dad, not the cops, no one.”

  “Yes,” Clare said. “But things have changed. Trying to pretend that Brad really was killed by a burglar has been driving me nuts for months. Now, given what happened to Valerie Shipley, I can’t stand it any longer. I need to know what really happened the night Brad died.”

  “I’m starting to think Mom is right. It’s probably best not to stir up that hornet’s nest.”

  “We’ll be discreet,” Clare said.

  There was a short pause.

  “We?” Elizabeth said cautiously.

  Clare stacked her heels on the little red leather hassock in front of the black leather and chrome chair in which she was sitting.

  “Jake and I will be discreet,” she clarified.

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Jake thinks this is a good idea?”

  “No. He thinks the idea sucks. But he realizes that he can’t talk me out of it so he’s doing the only other thing he feels he can do under the circumstances. He’s helping me.”

  “Why?”

  “He claims he’s doing it for his own sake. He was telling the truth, as far as it went.”

  Elizabeth drummed her fingers against the polished surface of the desk. “He’s afraid that you’re going to stir up trouble. This way, at least, he’s got some control. The question, of course, is why does he feel it’s his job to be in charge of you?”

  Clare almost laughed. “Nature of the beast, I think.”

  Elizabeth blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Let’s just say that Jake’s the kind of guy who always likes to be in charge. But in this case he’s my partner, whether he knows it or not. He is definitely not in control.”

  “Where is he, anyway?”

  “Grocery shopping.”

  “Hmm. Odd thing for your average take-charge kind of guy to be doing, isn’t it?”

  “Jake’s not average. In any way.”

  Elizabeth sighed. “Clare, if you and Jake start asking questions, everyone is going to get upset all over again.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “Given the circumstances, that’s going to be a little tricky, isn’t it?”

  “Hey, I’ve been in the charitable foundation business for the past few years. You think I don’t know how to be discreet? Half my work involved finesse and diplomacy.”

  Elizabeth raised her brows. “What did the other half involve?”

  “Detecting frauds and scam artists.”

  “I know you’re good when it comes to picking out the cons, but we’re talking about a murder.”

  “Maybe two murders, if I’m right about Valerie Shipley.”

  “That just makes it twice as dangerous,” Elizabeth said. “The Stone Canyon police haven’t been able to turn up any leads in Brad’s death. What makes you think you can learn anything new after all this time?”

  “I have to try, Liz. I can’t stand not knowing any longer. I want the truth.”

  Elizabeth sat forward abruptly. “Is Dad aware of what you’re planning to do?”

  “Jake’s going to break it to him gently when they play golf tomorrow morning.”

  “There’s no gentle way to do it. Dad’s going to be furious. I’ve told you, he does not want anyone in the family to even mention the subject of Brad’s death.”

  “I know,” Clare said.

  “Why are you so determined to find out what was going on six months ago? It’s finished. Brad is dead, and speaking personally, I’m certainly not shedding any tears.”

  “Neither am I. But I told you, I’ve got
a feeling that Valerie’s death is linked to it.”

  “So what? Let the authorities deal with it.”

  “They’re going to conclude she drowned accidentally. You know they are.”

  “I hate to sound cold-hearted about all this, but do either of us really care?” Elizabeth asked. “The woman tried to kill you. Twice. If we’re right, she was the one who sabotaged your engagement and your career. Frankly, I’m relieved that she’s gone, too.”

  “Don’t you see? If we’re right, it means that Brad wasn’t the random victim of a home invasion robbery and neither was Valerie.”

  “Don’t tell me you feel an obligation to avenge Brad and Valerie.”

  “No,” Clare said. “What I don’t like is that the killer took advantage of the fact that I happened to be in town to kill twice. Whoever he or she is, the murderer had to know that if there were any suspicions about either death, they would point toward me. I think I was the fallback plan in the event that questions were asked.”

  Elizabeth winced. “But it turned out okay in both cases. You’re not a suspect.”

  “Thanks to the Glazebrook name, probably. Trust me, there’s nothing I’d like more than finding out that I’m wrong and that there is no conspiracy. I’ll sleep a lot better at night if that is the case.”

  “I have a feeling this is a really, really bad idea.”

  Clare smiled ruefully. “Wouldn’t be my first.”

  Elizabeth turned thoughtful. “What about you and Jake?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Don’t give me that whatever-are-you-talking-about look. Something is going on between the two of you, isn’t it? I can tell.”

  “You’re guessing.”

  “No,” Elizabeth said firmly. “I am not guessing.”

  Clare nodded. “Well, you are a level-five sensitive. That means you get lots of points for intuition.”

  “You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?”

  “Let’s just say I have discovered a new hobby.”

  “What kind of hobby?”

  “Skinny-dipping. Now will you answer my question?”

  “About Brad’s girlfriend?” Elizabeth swiveled back and forth a couple times in her chair. “I don’t know who she was. I certainly don’t have a name to give you. To tell you the truth, I was so doped up most of the time and so afraid I was having a real nervous breakdown that I didn’t really care who she was. I just knew that he was seeing someone.”

  “Do you remember how you first found out?”

  Elizabeth massaged her temples with her thumbs. “Brad and I stopped having sex about a month and a half into the marriage. I told you, before the wedding and for a while afterward, he was the perfect lover. He used his sexual skills the way he did his looks and charm.”

  “To manipulate people.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Yes. But he also liked sex. A lot. That part of our life came to a halt, although Brad acted as if we had a normal relationship. He claimed that I forgot our lovemaking the next morning; that I was somehow blocking it psychologically.”

  “The fugue-state thing.”

  “Yes. That was when he insisted that I start seeing Dr. Mowbray.” Elizabeth shuddered. “It was awful. Brad used to wake me up in the morning with coffee in bed and tell me how passionate I’d been during the night. Then he would act hurt and concerned when I couldn’t remember the sex.”

  “But you knew he was getting laid,” Clare said.

  “Oh, yes. As I said, sex was very important to Brad. He wouldn’t have gone without it for long. Not willingly, at any rate. But I didn’t find any strong evidence until after he died. By then, of course, I didn’t care.”

  “What was the evidence? You never mentioned it.”

  “You know the old saying ‘Follow the money’?”

  Clare nodded. “Sure.”

  “After Brad was killed I had to go through a lot of his papers and files. Even though he had moved out and I had started proceedings, we were still technically married at the time of his death.”

  “I remember that you had a lot of work to do to settle his estate.”

  “I turned everything I could over to the lawyer. Valerie got the bulk of Brad’s money. Lord knows I didn’t want it. Anyway, for months afterward, bills and credit card statements kept turning up in the mail.”

  “I think I’m getting the picture here.” Clare was suddenly aware of her pulse. “Hard to carry on an affair without spending money.”

  “Turns out Brad had a credit card that I knew nothing about until the bills started arriving after his death. There was one recurring charge on the statements that caught my eye.”

  “What was it?”

  “Once, sometimes twice a week for almost the entire time we were married he evidently spent an afternoon at a spa in Phoenix. My intuition tells me that is probably where he went to screw his lover.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  “What the hell is going on between you and Clare?” Archer asked.

  Jake dropped the club back into the bag and got behind the wheel of the golf cart.

  He had been expecting the question since they teed off at the first hole. The only real surprise was that Archer had waited until the third hole to ask it. Glazebrook could be astonishingly nuanced and roundabout in his business dealings, but when it came to interpersonal relationships he was usually about as subtle as a brick.

  It was Sunday morning, going on six o’clock. The temperature was still pleasant but the sun was climbing rapidly. So was the brilliance of the light. He and Archer had already put on their dark glasses.

  Since his arrival in Stone Canyon Jake had begun to look forward to his rounds of golf with Archer. It wasn’t only because it gave them a secure place to talk, the golf itself was an interesting challenge. They had agreed from the beginning that, when it was just the two of them, they would play with all their senses wide open. When they were both running hot, the matches became an intriguing contest between his hunter talents and Archer’s unique strategic abilities.

  The outcomes were unpredictable. There were upsides to both talents, Jake reflected. There was no question that his hunter talents gave him an edge when it came to coordination and timing. But Archer’s preternatural ability to plot strategy paid off just as often. Take today, for instance. They were both on the green in two. Now it all came down to the putting. And putting was half strategy and half timing and coordination. It could go either way.

  “You don’t really expect a detailed answer to that question, do you?” Jake asked, steering the cart along the narrow path to a point close to the green.

  “Damn right I do. You haven’t shown any interest in women since you got here. I was starting to wonder if maybe you weren’t the type who likes ’em.”

  “Would that have been an issue for you?”

  “Let’s get something straight. I don’t give a frigging damn who you sleep with so long as it doesn’t create a problem for me or someone in my family.”

  “You’re worried that a relationship between Clare and me might create a problem?”

  “Yeah,” Archer said. “That’s exactly what’s worrying me. This thing between the two of you blew up like a storm out of nowhere. A few days ago she hadn’t even met you. Now she’s living with you.”

  “That’s how it happens sometimes.”

  “You think I don’t know that? Clare is the direct result of my own personal experience with a sudden storm. I don’t want her put into the same kind of position her mother found herself in all those years ago. Is that real clear, Salter?”

  “Your concerns are noted.”

  “Don’t give me that bullshit, damn you. This is my daughter we’re talking about.”

  “Archer, I appreciate your point of view. But my personal life is just that. Personal. I don’t discuss it in depth with anyone.”

  “The hell you don’t. You’re gonna damn well discuss it with me as long as your personal life involves Clare.”

&n
bsp; Jake braked the cart to a halt. He sat quietly for a moment, studying the situation on the green.

  “I’m going to tell you something, Archer. You’re not going to like it but maybe you’ll understand why I’ve got Clare living in my house.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Clare is convinced that Brad McAllister was not the victim of a burglar he happened to interrupt in the course of a robbery. She thinks he was killed by someone who planned the murder very carefully in a way that would throw suspicion on her.”

  Archer stiffened. “That’s crazy.”

  “What’s more, she thinks that Valerie was murdered by the same person who killed McAllister. Someone who knew that if the authorities did have any questions about the death, they would be inclined to look at Clare, who just happened to be back in town.”

  “Shit.”

  “The reason she decided to hang around Stone Canyon for a few more days isn’t because she wants to consider your job offer. She’s staying because she plans to dig into the facts surrounding McAllister’s death. She needs to prove to herself, one way or another, if her conspiracy theory is valid.”

  Archer looked as if he had taken a body blow. “Clare said that? She wants to find the killer?”

  “Yes. I told her I’d help her.”

  “That’s why you’ve got her staying with you?”

  “Right.” And also because I want her in my bed, Jake thought. But he decided not to add that part.

  “Sweet hell,” Archer whispered, sounding as if he had just been blindsided. “Talk about a major screwup.”

  “She’s made up her mind. I can’t stop her, Archer. Neither can you. But at least this way I can keep an eye on her.”

  “I never even thought about that possibility,” Archer said. His voice was so low he might have been talking to himself. “Never dawned on me that it was someone else. Thought I had it all figured out.”

  “What are you talking about?” Understanding crackled through Jake. “Damn. I should have known. That’s why you steered the Jones & Jones analysts away from the McAllister situation. And they bought your take on the murder because they knew what a hell of a strategist you are. If you didn’t see a connection between McAllister and the other problem, everyone assumed there probably wasn’t one.”