by Cindy Stark
“Do the police have any other leads?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then I’m not convinced of anything. It’s an election year. Everyone wants arrest and conviction rates up to make them look good.”
Nicole was about to argue with her politically savvy aunt and say that busting her wouldn’t help anyone’s campaign, but suddenly she wasn’t so sure. A conviction of a ten-million dollar thief would certainly make headlines.
“Have you found a private investigator yet?”
She hadn’t. As she’d left her attorney’s office, she’d made a quick phone call to the investigator he’d suggested and inquired about rates. The amount was staggering to her. She supposed if she’d tossed out Mr. Barton’s name, he might have given her a better rate, but even half the quoted amount would sink her. She might have to rely solely on her attorney to protect her, not that he could do much unless her case reached the legal system.
Still, one glance down the hall told her she needed some kind of help. Already, she felt like she’d lost her grip and was slowly drowning in the threats against her. But who would help and how?
An image of Xander Secrist popped into her head. She wasn’t sure what exactly, if anything, he could do for her, but the idea of calling him for help seemed better than doing nothing. “I think I’ve found someone.”
“If not, Martha knows somebody. He’s a little pricey, but your freedom is the most important thing.”
Her aunt had next to nothing, and she needed whatever money she did have to take care of herself.
“You’re so good to me, Aunt Claire, but I’ll be fine. I was just about to call him. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll let you know, but he came highly recommended.”
Like hell. She knew nothing about him. First thing, as soon as she could access her damn computer, she needed to do some investigating of her own to see what she could learn about Xander before she let him into her life, but at this point, she might be willing to take a chance.
She ended her conversation with her aunt as the group of officers started filing out of her apartment. She recognized one of the men as the detective who’d interrogated her the day she’d been arrested. He paused outside her doorway, studying her as the rest of the men came out.
When she realized a couple of them carried boxes, she started forward down the hall. “Wait. What are you doing? You can’t take my stuff.”
“It’s part of the investigation, ma’am,” the familiar detective replied, holding up a hand to keep her at a distance.
She widened her eyes as another carried out her computer. “No. You can’t take my computer. I need that.”
The detective narrowed his eyes. “You’ll have it back as soon as we check it out.”
She wouldn’t be able to research Xander or apply for jobs without it. “How long does that take?” She couldn’t believe her bad luck.
He shrugged. “As long as it takes to do a thorough investigation.” He handed her a sheet of paper. It listed numerous items that they’d taken, including her computer.
“This is harassment. I’m innocent. You don’t have any right to ruin my life like this. I’m going to call my attorney.”
“You do that, ma’am.” He followed the last of the officers down the hall to the stairs.
She watched them go, despair inching over her insides like the roots of one of Aunt Claire’s invasive vines. She wanted to scream at the injustice of it all.
Instead, she slammed the door to her apartment, and Stormy whined. This had become so unbelievably out of hand.
A scattered stack of bills caught her attention. Then a tipped over glass on the kitchen counter. With anger pulsing through her veins, she ran a quick eye over the rest of her apartment finding various things out of place. The police had obtained a warrant and had searched her apartment legally, but if you asked her, it was still a violation.
In essence, they’d looked over, touched and judged all of her possessions. Without cause. Yes, they had their suspicions, but she was innocent. Truly, they had no right.
Despair pushed at her again, trying to bring her to her knees. She bit her tongue and pushed back. She would not cry again. Not today.
She walked to the counter and set the glass upright before she moved it to the sink instead. An overwhelming urge to wash all of her dishes, all of her clothes consumed her. She wanted to erase any trace that anyone had ever been in her personal space.
Chapter Six
Xander stared out the tenth floor window of his office building, his gaze following the Willamette River as it traveled through his beautiful city. He’d left his father’s estate in Rainier and moved to Portland when he was a freshman at Portland State University, and he’d never truly gone back home.
His father had preferred to live close to the pine-filled mountains, but Xander had always loved the high energy that was the life-blood of his city. He did like the thought, though, that the river that flowed near his office connected with the Columbia River that wound past his dad’s place.
It was a connection, of sorts.
He had to admit he wished he’d made an effort to visit his dad more often when he was alive. It wasn’t until his father’s tragic death that he realized how vitally short life could be.
He’d always regret he hadn’t cancelled his date and rushed home after the strange phone call he’d received from his dad. Instead, he’d convinced himself everything would be fine, and his dad’s behavior hadn’t been all that odd for a man who’d just lost a fortune.
He’d been wrong. So wrong.
The ringing of his phone pulled him from painful memories. He swiveled in his office chair and lifted his cell from the desk, frowning at the unknown number.
“Xander Secrist,” he answered.
“Hello.” The woman paused a moment. “It’s Nicole Camden. We met at the coffee shop last week.”
He gripped his phone tighter. “Nicole.” His nerves twisted into a hard ball. “How are you?”
Another pause. “Not so good.” Her voice sounded weary, shaken. Sam had given him a cryptic heads-up that the police intended to put pressure on her today. Apparently, it had been enough to send her in his direction.
“I’d like to help if you’d let me.” Please God. Let her say yes.
“Could you? I really don’t know where else to turn.”
He glanced at the clock. Three-fifteen. There was no reason he couldn’t leave work early. “I can come to your house right now, if you’d like.”
“How about the park near the coffee shop instead?”
She didn’t trust him. Not yet. But he’d win her over, and then he’d crack her and put her behind bars. “Sounds great. I can be there in fifteen.”
“Okay. I’ll have Stormy with me.”
Was that a warning? He almost laughed. She must be pretty desperate if she was willing to meet with a man she didn’t trust. Good. That would definitely play in his favor. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
* * *
Nicole slipped into her favorite brown leather jacket and hitched Stormy’s leash. She donned her dark sunglasses, worrying that she might come back to more detectives who would want to steal her things.
They’d taken the most random things. They’d opened up all of the boxes of stuff she had packed away in her closets, taken some of her books, some of her journals, not to mention her beloved laptop. She felt as though she’d been cut off from the world. It was bad enough society had made it hell to leave her apartment. Now she couldn’t even search her name on the web to get the latest information and speculation.
She and Stormy descended the staircase, and thankfully, no angry voices reached out to her from the second floor. She’d been so caught up with her problems, she’d completely forgotten about poor Janie.
Clouds had skipped across the sun since she’d been out earlier in the day and a brisk wind accompanied them. There was a good chance they’d see rain before nightfall. Maybe that would keep a few
more people off the streets and out of her way.
When she arrived at the park, there were two mothers playing with a group of children on the playground. Another woman complete with headphones and wearing jogging shorts headed down the sidewalk away from her.
Nicole shifted her gaze to the parking lot noticing a red van, a white sedan, and a sweet-looking silver Corvette. The moment she looked at the sports car, the driver’s door opened, and Xander stepped out.
A shiver of attraction burst through her anxiety like a ray of sun through the clouds as he walked toward her. Oh. My. He looked good.
She’d forgotten his compelling gaze, the sensual, yet predatory way he walked. She’d called him because she’d been at her wits end and was desperate for help, not because she needed a delicious piece of eye candy.
His black trench coat blowing in the breeze lent him a sexy, dangerous air. Beneath it, the top button of his shirt was undone and a beautiful, red tie hung loose around his throat. It was as though he had one foot outside the corporate world, easing toward freedom.
“Hello,” he said, his deep voice a soothing balm to her spirit.
She tried to appear unaffected. “Hi.”
He reached down to pet Stormy who affectionately licked his fingers. She’d always heard dogs were a good judge of character. If he had any ill intentions toward her, Stormy would surely sense it, wouldn’t she?
He shifted his gaze to her. “Do you want to sit or walk?”
“Walk.” It would help her nerves.
They moved in tandem along the sidewalk, Stormy on one side of her, Xander on the other. The lineup brought her comfort even though she knew she couldn’t trust Xander yet. “I want to know how you think you can help me.”
He chuckled. “Nothing like getting right to the point.”
She stopped, facing him. “I don’t have time for anything else.”
He sobered. “No, you don’t.” He started walking again, and she fell in step beside him. “First, I have a strong background in the financial world. I know how transfers are made and how they can be traced.”
“Even to offshore accounts?” She wondered if she should squash the tiny seed of hope growing inside her. Even now, she could hear her aunt reminding her to lower her expectations.
“They can be tricky if it’s transferred more than once. Is that what happened in your case?”
“I guess. Actually, I have no idea if it was only transferred once or many times. I’m just guessing the thief would have. How would you be able to check that?”
“I have a friend with police connections. He could possibly look into it.”
“Is that legal?” The last thing she needed was to be implicated in another illegal activity.
“Does it matter?”
Her suspicion alarm spiked. “Of course it does.” Unless she needed to play dirty to figure out who’d framed her. “Doesn’t it?”
“That’s your call.” The cool look in his eyes gave her no indication what he was really thinking.
“I’d prefer to keep things above board. Is there any way to find out what exactly the police know? I think that would give us a good direction to go in, and my lawyer doesn’t seem to be making much progress in that area.”
He shrugged. “It can’t hurt to look.”
She frowned. “I thought when you said you could help you had some legitimate avenues of recourse.”
He grinned then. “I’m as legitimate as they come. Feel free to have me checked out. I’m a financial analyst at Neider Financial Partners. Never been arrested. Never given the cops any reason to look in my direction.”
Her spirits plummeted at the reminder that they now had eyes watching her. “Neither have I,” she whispered. “And yet, here I am.”
He blew out a breath, running his fingers through his hair, leaving him with a tousled look. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head, words clogging in her throat. She’d thought she had herself under control, but the past few days had been an unimaginable hell. She turned from him in an effort to regain her ground.
“Nicole.” His apology attached to the syllables of her name. He touched her shoulder, and she crumbled, dropping her head to her hand as the wind whipped her hair around her.
Without another word, he pulled her into his embrace. The rich, earthy scent of his cologne and the warmth of his body drew her in. He was an unknown, but she sensed he was a safe place to rest her wounded soul for a few moments.
He held her while she gathered the emotional pieces of herself. When it seemed as though she was a little more solid, she pulled back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I don’t even know you.” She exhaled a weighted breath. “It’s just there hasn’t been anyone else I could really talk to.” Her voice wavered, and she nearly lost it again.
“It’s okay. I told you I wanted to help.” He removed her glasses and tipped up her chin, leaving her vulnerable to his gaze. “What about your family?”
She shook her head. “I only have my aunt, and she’s struggling with her health. She knows the police have questioned me, but I can’t let her know how worried I am.”
“Friends?”
“I either worked with them, or they have their own troubles.” She rolled her eyes. “God, I’m pathetic, aren’t I?”
He pushed an errant strand of hair away from her face. “You’re in a bad spot, but not pathetic.” He searched her gaze, and she drank in the sight of him, wishing she could drown herself in his mesmerizing eyes.
He heaved a sigh and stepped back. “What are we going to do with you?” He took her hand, and Stormy pushed her way between them. Xander paused to rub the dog’s ears. “No reason to be jealous, girl,” he whispered to her before he took Nicole’s hand again. “How about dinner?”
“I’m pretty much ostracized from everywhere in town.” She ran a hand over her windblown hair. “Besides, I’m a wreck.”
He tilted his head, a kind smile gracing his lips. “If you’ll let me, I’d love to cook for you. Come to my house and escape your life for a while. It will be good for you to be away from everything that reminds you of what’s been happening. Consider it a temporary diversion. Then tomorrow, I’ll call my friend and see what he can find out.”
Her bones nearly liquefied at the thought of running away from everything. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“It would be my pleasure. I even have some leftover chicken for Stormy.”
At the sound of her name, she perked up her ears and wagged her tail as though she agreed it was a good idea.
She should say no. Hadn’t she been the one to say now was not a good time to start anything new? “Okay. I’ll come.” An impossible smile claimed her lips, leaving her heart feeling lighter than it had in forever.
* * *
Xander held open the door of his Corvette and waited while Nicole slid onto his leather passenger seat, glad that he’d finally convinced her to give him a chance. Stormy had to climb up on her lap.
“Nice car,” she said around her face full of Stormy’s fur as he claimed the driver’s seat.
“Thanks. I made a decent profit off my accounts last year, and I love having power beneath me.” He looked over at her and laughed. “Are you two okay over there?”
She pulled a hair out of her mouth. “Absolutely.” She seemed to relax into the seat, her tension easing. Good. The more comfortable she was around him, the more likely she’d say something to give her away.
“What do you drive?”
She snorted. “Nothing right now. A couple of months ago, I sold my old Mazda, thinking I’d go green, try to save some money, and only use public transportation. Ironic that it was my TriMet pass I’d gone back for that put me in the building at the time that money was stolen.” A sarcastic laugh escaped her lips. “Seriously, a TriMet pass, and now I’m looking at prison.”
She was good with her story details, he thought. Good at creating a sympathetic persona, too, with the whole sick aunt
and no friends she could lean on. The emotion he’d found swimming in her eyes had tugged at his heartstrings, and he knew what she was like beneath the facade. Imagine what she could do in front of a jury. There was no way they’d convict her.
He’d have to make certain they had an irrefutable case against her. And he didn’t have much time to pull it all together.
“Try not to stress too much. Things have a way of working out.” Sam was too good at his job to fail, and with Xander working this from the inside, they’d find a way to bring her down.
“I’m trying, but it’s hard.” Anxiety shadowed her emotions, but she didn’t tear up again. He wanted to reach out and give her a reassuring squeeze, but the less touching, the better.
They were at his house on the other side of the river in a matter of minutes. A large, wooded yard surrounded his gray rambler home, leaving a nice amount of room between neighbors.
“Wow,” Nicole said, sliding her bangs out of her eyes with a finger. “This is really nice. Where did you say you worked?”
Pride swelled inside him. Even without his father’s money, he’d managed to carve out a nice space for himself. “Neider Financial Partners.” He watched her face, waiting to see if her expression changed, waiting to see if the mention of money elicited any kind of response. Maybe once she trusted him, she might suggest they work together. He would expect someone looking to steal a lot of money would find a guy like him highly attractive.
She answered with a wistful look in her eye. “Someday I hope to have enough money to buy a home, to settle down and have a couple of kids.”
Not the reaction he’d expected. The look on her face was so downhearted, he did take her hand this time. “You’re worried about what might happen if they arrest you.”
“How can I not? They are threatening some serious charges.”
“I know.” He squeezed her fingers, his thumb grazing the soft skin on the back of her hand. “But we haven’t given this our best shot yet. I’ll give my friend a call tomorrow when he’s available. Let’s see what he can come up with and go from there.”
