Matt thought about how “that woman” had handled herself. Hell, didn’t Peter realize how badly he’d come off in comparison?
“I told her because nothing I know is confidential and because she just wants answers. Look, I may not have been at Hudson & Davidson for long, but I was there when this all happened. To be honest, I’m worried we could have missed something. Layne has uncovered information that suggests William Hudson didn’t kill himself.”
“That’s impossible,” Peter scoffed. “There was more than enough evidence to convict him. That’s why he committed suicide—he couldn’t face any of us, or a prison sentence.”
“I still think it merits a second look,” Matt insisted.
“Go ahead and look. I’m done with it.” Peter sank onto a chair, rubbing the back of his neck. “It was a nightmare the way William took advantage of our friendship. We were once as close as brothers, and then he nearly took me down with him. And don’t forget, he put your plans for taking over the foundation at risk, too.”
“I don’t think Grandfather would blame me for another man’s mistakes.”
“Perhaps. But William played roulette with all of our futures. To think he’s the one who used to talk about integrity and honor as if it was a religion.”
Matt leaned forward. “I didn’t know him that well.”
“I’m sure you would have liked him, everyone did. He was crazy about his wife. Optimistic. Intelligent.” Peter smiled grimly. “He had a helluva sense of humor, too. I miss the friendship, even if I can’t forgive him for what he did.”
And Layne can’t forgive you for abandoning her uncle, Matt added silently. As for the optimism Peter had described in his partner, that didn’t fit with a man who would kill himself without offering a stronger defense than, “I’m not guilty.”
“Before I met your mother, I was a seven-days-a-week workaholic,” his stepfather murmured. “But while William would put in a hard day, he usually didn’t stay late or come in on weekends. That’s what was so strange about him starting to work Thursday evenings.”
“I can explain that—Mrs. Hudson was spending Thursday nights with her mother. He was staying late because his wife was out of town.”
“Oh.” Something flickered in Peter’s eyes, but was gone so fast, Matt couldn’t read it.
“It must have been annoying all those years when you were working such long hours, and he wasn’t,” Matt commented casually.
“Not really. I would have done the same if Shelley had been alive. Hudson & Davidson wouldn’t have grown as much, but it wouldn’t have mattered, either.”
“Shelley?”
His stepfather’s face seemed to age instantly. “My first wife. She died in a car crash shortly before our baby was due. I didn’t mind that William wasn’t putting in the long hours...but I envied him. William and Dorothy had each other, and though they couldn’t have children, I knew Layne was becoming like a daughter. He had what I’d lost until I met your mother. I’m fortunate to have both of you now.”
A headache pulsed in Matt’s temples. While he recalled his mother telling him that Peter was a widower, he hadn’t truly considered what it meant. Something like that must change a person. He’d seen how divorce affected people, but death? That was what Dorothy Hudson was dealing with now, and if his stepfather had gone through it himself, why did he have so little compassion?
“I don’t know, maybe I should have...” Peter’s voice trailed off and he stared out the window at Lake Union, clenching his fists.
Matt wondered if his stepfather was questioning how he’d handled things with Layne, or the way he had responded to the supposed embezzlement by William Hudson.
He thought back to the morning the police had shown up at Hudson & Davidson and the silence and shock in everyone’s eyes. William Hudson’s suicide had been an even bigger bombshell.
Layne was right—her uncle’s death had been convenient. And if William Hudson was innocent, it meant Matt had been part of a system that had destroyed a man’s reputation and let a thief and murderer get away.
“I never heard how much of the money was found,” Matt said slowly.
“None of it. The D.A.’s office says it was moved from one international account to another until it became impossible to track.” His stepfather cleared his throat. “Look, I wish you hadn’t gotten caught up in this, son, but I understand your wanting to be sure things weren’t missed. I apologize for getting angry today.”
“It’s a touchy subject for everyone,” Matt said, getting up. “I’d better go back to work.”
“Yes, of course.”
They went down in the elevator together. Matt felt he owed a certain loyalty to Peter for giving him the job at Hudson & Davidson, but at the moment he wasn’t terribly impressed with his stepfather. On the other hand, he’d known Peter a whole lot longer than Layne McGraw, and he didn’t have any clear reasons to distrust him.
* * *
THAT EVENING LAYNE sat on her living room sofa, clutching a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia ice cream. The stuff was good. She’d never had it before the previous night, and had been pleased to discover it contained fudge flakes, along with generous chunks of cherries.
Damn.
She didn’t need expensive tastes or such sinfully rich ones, either.
Layne dug out a spoonful of ice cream and ate it down, unable to stop thinking about her encounter with Peter Davidson. How could Uncle Will have been friends with a man like that? He was awful.
The door chimes rang and she considered just sitting there, stuffing herself with Cherry Garcia and feeling depressed, but when they rang again, she sighed and got up.
It was Matt.
He looked at the half-empty pint of Ben & Jerry’s in her hand and held up a grocery bag. “I brought reinforcements.”
Layne dropped onto the couch again as he disappeared into the kitchen. She heard the freezer door open and close before he reappeared with a spoon of his own. He sat next to her and dipped it into the pint she held.
“I apologize for Peter,” he said after a moment.
“You warned me.” She ate another bite of ice cream.
“But I didn’t think he’d lose his temper.”
She recalled Peter Davidson’s handsome face, dark with self-righteous fury. You’d think he’d start to question if he could have made a mistake—most reasonable people would have gone through a self-questioning period. Naturally there was still the possibility Mr. Davidson had been embezzling himself in order to get control of the company, but it seemed awfully complicated and Machiavellian.
“Here.”
Still depressed, Layne shoved what was left of the ice cream at Matt and rested her head on the couch. She had little recollection of her uncle’s partner from childhood; he’d looked slightly familiar and that was all. But surely he had some qualities to recommend him, or he and Uncle Will wouldn’t have become friends in the first place.
“Hey.” Matt ate the last few bites before tossing the empty ice cream carton aside and tugging a lock of her hair. “It’s okay. We’ll keep looking.”
That was nice. He could be encouraging her to give up, instead of urging her on. It wasn’t necessary—she had every intention of continuing—but it was nice to get a pep talk.
She glanced at him.
The last, lingering rays from the sun were coming through the windows, refracted into a thousand rainbows and flashes of light by the beveled glass in her windows. They played across his face and athletic body and she sighed. He really was very attractive.
Matt leaned closer and kissed her with unmistakable expertise. Layne’s stomach flipped. His kiss deepened as she responded, coaxing and gentle and demanding at the same moment. They slid down, along the cushions, and she ran the arch of her foot along his leg.
Mmm. He was wearing blue jeans and the sensation of hard, denim-covered muscles pressing against her bare thigh sent lust streaking through her veins. For a guy who was famous for partying late every night, he was in awfully good condition.
“Do you run or what?” she muttered between kisses.
“What?”
“To stay in shape.”
“The Eisley Building has a fitness facility for the employees. I use it after everyone has gone home.”
His hand eased under the hem of her shorts and cupped her bottom while the other unsnapped the waistband and eased the zipper downward. Not to be outdone, Layne pulled on the shirt tails tucked into his jeans and put her fingers on his back.
Matt pushed her shirt upward and gazed at her breasts for a moment. She rarely wore a bra at home, and the fleeting thought went through her head that she was probably half the size of the lovers he’d had in the past. But before she could think of covering herself, he stroked one of her nipples, then drew it into his mouth, teasing the tip with his tongue.
Each of her breasts received equal attention and Layne’s abdomen clenched and unclenched as she arched upward. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so outrageously aroused; Matt appeared to know exactly what he should do to drive her insane.
He kissed her again so deeply that she tasted the sweet flavor of cherry ice cream, then began playing with her hair, seemingly fascinated by its thick length. Her legs moved restlessly.
All at once Matt broke free. He rested his weight on his arms and stared down at her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t come here to have sex with you. That was the last thing on my mind.”
Layne’s blood cooled instantly. “Oh?”
“I feel bad about today. You’ve become a friend and I wanted to make you feel better, except now I’ve made things worse.”
Wasn’t that great? He’d brought ice cream and given her a pity kiss as if she was a twelve-year-old. “I don’t need you to make me feel better,” she said, pushing him away.
“Don’t be angry.”
“Why would I be angry?”
“I’m not sure, but you looked pissed.”
“I realize it’s a cliché—but if you don’t understand without being told, you never will.” She squirmed away, yanking her shirt into place as Matt sat up and watched warily. It wasn’t as if she’d actually wanted to have sex with him, but she knew enough about male behavior to know that they didn’t usually just call a halt once things had gone a certain distance. At least not when they were truly aroused.
Jeez.
If she’d been low before, now she was positively depressed.
Having Matt call her a friend was probably a compliment, but it was a reminder that all her romances turned into friendships. She was an expert at being a buddy; she was even still buddies with Richard, the guy she’d once expected to marry.
When was she going to meet the right man who’d adore her, and not go gaga over Jeannie or Stephanie? It wasn’t that she wanted it to be Matt Hollister, but she was tired of being treated like every guy’s kid sister.
Determined not to let Matt know that he’d dented her ego, she collected the spoons they’d used and the empty ice cream container, taking them into the kitchen.
If she was honest, the way she felt was only partly about the kiss. It was also about her family and how they were trying to put themselves back together.
“Layne?” Matt stood in the doorway.
She pasted a smile on her mouth. “Never mind. I’m just tired and the hot weather is getting to me.”
“It’s cooler today.”
Layne wiped her hands on a towel. “Cooler is relative. I like needing a quilt to stay warm at night.”
“You wouldn’t enjoy Jamaica, then.”
“Jamaica?”
“One of my favorite places. I went to boarding school in New England and then attended Harvard, so I headed for warm tropical breezes as soon as I got control of my trust fund.”
Not just tropical breezes—wild parties, adult beverages with little umbrellas and women in bikinis, Layne added silently. According to the stories, Matt had partied all over the world, but he’d been partial to places like the Caribbean and Hawaii and Fiji.
“But you still traded tropical breezes for Washington rain.”
“There wasn’t much choice with the Eisley Foundation located in Seattle. Look, I know you’re upset, but I don’t know what I did and I’m not good at games.”
Lord, men could be so dense.
“It isn’t a game, and it isn’t you, it’s...it’s all this stuff dragging on about Uncle Will,” Layne said, squaring her shoulders and mentally crossing her fingers, even though it was partly true. “You can’t understand what it was like growing up with three gorgeous, gifted siblings. No matter what I tried, they’d always done it better. But it was okay when I was with Aunt Dee and Uncle Will. They weren’t disappointed that I hadn’t turned out as smart and pretty and talented as everyone else. They just loved me.”
“Surely your parents love you, too.”
“Of course they do. But they still want me to be something I’m not. When I have children, I want them to be kids first, and not just future doctors and lawyers and business professionals in training. Even now my parents push constantly, trying to get me to go back to school and get a doctorate.”
Matt frowned. “I’ve never even thought about how I’d raise a child since I don’t plan to get married.”
“Well, I want what my aunt and uncle shared. They lived for each other, and what they did for a living was less important than what they had together. Except now she’s alone and it’s awful for her.” Layne gulped to keep from crying.
“I’m lucky, I guess. I haven’t lost anyone who mattered that much to me.” Despite Matt’s words, a spasm of pain crossed his face.
“It was hard when my grandfather died a few years ago, but I wasn’t close to him the way I was close to my uncle.” Her breath caught again and the ache in her chest seemed unbearable. “And I’m so afraid that I may have to go back and tell Aunt Dee that her husband wasn’t everything she always believed.”
* * *
“BUT YOU HAVE proof that he didn’t kill himself,” Matt said helplessly.
He wanted to comfort Layne, but he’d screwed up once already that evening and didn’t want to make things worse. Besides, while he was far from a paragon of virtue, he’d never taken advantage of a distraught woman and didn’t intend to start.
It was clear that Layne McGraw was a hell of a lot more complicated than the women he’d associated with in the past. That alone should send him racing out the door, but he’d offered to help with the investigation. The new Matthew Hollister was no longer irresponsible and couldn’t back down from that offer.
Layne flipped on the overhead light. “The police won’t accept my proof, remember?”
“You said they didn’t want to see it as proof because it might mean they accused the wrong person.” Matt understood how the authorities felt—things would be easier if William Hudson was proved to be the embezzler...easier for everyone except Dorothy Hudson and her niece.
“They’re probably worried about a lawsuit.”
“So let’s talk about what comes next,” Matt suggested. “Did the employees you’ve spoken with have anything interesting to say?”
“I’ve reached several, including Emma Farnon, who was Uncle Will’s administrative assistant. Emma retired shortly after his death and doesn’t recall specific dates Uncle Will planned to spend the evening at the office. I asked if payroll records would show when she worked late with him, but apparently he was the only company executive who didn’t expect their assistant to put in overtime.”
“Peter said he was surprised when William began staying on Thursdays. I explained about your g
randmother’s illness.”
Layne wrinkled her nose. “If Mr. Davidson didn’t know about it, they must not have been talking much at the time. I’m sure Uncle Will would have mentioned her trips to Mount Vernon at the office. Someone may have realized he wouldn’t have an alibi, whether he was at work or not, and framed him.”
“Could be.”
Matt rubbed his chin. His body still ached and the memory of Layne’s responsive breasts was guaranteed to keep him awake for hours. They might be small, but they were very pretty—round, with large, rosy nipples that hardened instantly at a touch...he restrained a groan.
He didn’t believe in exploiting an emotional situation any more than he would consider having an affair with a woman like Layne. Hell, she’d just talked about the kind of marriage she hoped to have and the kids she wanted to raise.
Marriage might work for some people, but it didn’t work for the Hollisters.
That didn’t mean he couldn’t deal with Layne on a friendly basis; not everything had to be about sex. Besides, his good times hadn’t always been about women; they were about skirting the edge—going faster, longer and better. He’d raced everything from cars to yachts to airplanes. He’d gone skydiving, hang gliding, parasailing and cliff diving. Hell, he’d even paid megabucks to see the rusting wreck of the RMS Titanic at the bottom of the Atlantic.
“By the way, when are you going to let me see your aunt again and help review records?” he asked.
“Soon. I’ve mentioned you to Aunt Dee but haven’t told her everything.”
“You think she’ll be angry?”
“No, but she’ll worry. I’ll speak to her Saturday, though. Are you available?”
“Just let me know when it’s a good time and I’ll come right over. I don’t have any plans.”
It was true. His only plans were going over more reports in his office. Living above the Eisley Foundation made it easy to take care of any needed tasks. He supposed it could become tiresome to live in the same place he worked, but right now it helped to keep him focused.
Challenging Matt Page 13
