Destiny Unleashed

by Sherryl Woods

  Scowling in Malcolm’s direction, he picked up the paper and opened it, only to see a shocking photo of himself and Destiny on her living room sofa, her in her robe and those silly slippers, him in his tuxedo, her hands in his. There was no question in his mind that it had been taken New Year’s Eve, sometime at the height of their argument if her distressed expression was any indication of the timing.

  “What the devil?” he muttered as his temper kicked in. “Who took this?”

  “Anticipating that question, I made several calls in an attempt to discover that myself, but the paper’s executives are falling back on the usual evasion,” Malcolm said with undisguised disgust. “They merely cited the confidentiality of their sources, which they were happy to remind me is one of the first canons of journalistic ethics.” He shook his head. “As if they truly give a damn about that.”

  “It is a handy catchphrase, though, isn’t it?” William responded.

  Whether the paper acknowledged it or not, the source had to be one of the musicians he’d hired. They were the only ones in the apartment at the right time that evening and they’d definitely been close enough to get this particular shot. It wasn’t grainy enough to have been taken by a telephoto lens from some distant balcony.

  “I’ll deal with this, Malcolm,” he said, resolving to call Ian Whitcomb immediately. Ian was as trustworthy as they came, but William had known only one of the two musicians Ian had brought with him. He’d never considered him to be particularly shady, but the third one was a total wild card.

  “I was certain you would want to,” Malcolm said. “I’m sorry, sir.”

  “So am I,” William responded grimly.

  He was also furious, but he suspected his own high emotions were nothing compared to the outrage Destiny was probably feeling about now. This disaster couldn’t have come at a worse time. Given how suspicious she was of his motives, there was little question that she was going to turn this into a deliberate betrayal, an attempt by him to weaken her position in European business circles, to make her an object of ridicule just when she was trying to establish herself as a credible businesswoman.

  Worst of all, he was damned if he could blame her. If the shoe had been on the other foot, if she had appeared unannounced on his doorstep and this had been the result, he would have suspected the same thing himself.

  “Mr. Harcourt is here,” Miriam announced in a low voice when Destiny responded to her secretary’s buzz. “Shall I send him in?” There was a note of indignation in her voice that suggested she would much rather stick a knife in his heart.

  Destiny felt a chill go down her spine. “No, you can tell that low-down, scheming scoundrel to go back to whatever rat hole he climbed out of.”

  The words were scarcely out of her mouth when the door to her office burst open and William strolled in.

  “Get out!” Destiny said, seething at his audacity. Not that it surprised her. William had always had confidence enough for ten men. New Year’s Eve had been reminder enough of that. “Leave at once or I will call Security and have you tossed from the premises. Perhaps I’ll call the media first, so they can get a good shot of it for tomorrow’s editions. Then they’ll know exactly what I think of you and your low-class activities.”

  William had the grace to grimace. “You’ve seen the paper, then. I was hoping you hadn’t.”

  “Yes, I imagine you were.”

  “I understand why you’re upset,” he began.

  “Upset,” she nearly shouted, as furious about his patronizing tone as she was about that ridiculous photograph. “That doesn’t begin to cover it. I could strangle you right now with my bare hands and do it without a twinge of conscience. I’m sure Miriam would be happy to swear that she never saw a thing. In fact, she’d probably happily help me dispose of the body.”

  He winced at the certainty in her voice. “Yes, well, I’m not all that happy myself at the moment, but your fury is misdirected. I had nothing to do with that photo in the paper. I’m as much a victim as you are.”

  She couldn’t believe he thought her to be so gullible. “Yes, men are always ruined when it appears they’ve made a conquest, aren’t they?” she asked with a real bite of sarcasm.

  “The picture is not my doing,” he repeated.

  “Do you deny that it was taken inside my apartment?”

  “No.”

  “And that people you hired must have taken it?”

  “There’s no proof of that, but, yes, it certainly looks that way.”

  She blinked at his ready agreement. “Then why shouldn’t I blame you? Do you think one of those musicians brought along a little throwaway camera just on the off chance something fascinating might happen? Perhaps it’s a little sideline one of them has developed over the years—scandal and blackmail. How lovely of you to make it so convenient for them.”

  “Perhaps,” he said. “More likely, someone else put them up to it. I’d like to find out who, wouldn’t you?”

  “I already know who did it, dammit! Now get out.”

  “You’re repeating yourself, Destiny. Worse, you’re showing an uncharacteristic lack of open-mindedness.”

  “If I’m repeating myself, it’s because you’re obviously not listening. As for open-mindedness, I think there’s little evidence that it’s called for in this case.”

  “You’re the one who’s not listening,” he said quietly. “I had nothing to do with that picture. Which means someone is out to catch you or me or maybe both of us in a compromising position.”

  “Well, they certainly accomplished that, didn’t they?” She stared at him and waited for her temper to cool. When she could speak calmly, she asked, “Do you honestly expect me to believe it was someone else?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  He smiled slightly. “Because I’ve never lied to you.”

  “You keep saying that,” she said with exasperation. “Yet the evidence to the contrary keeps piling up.”

  “Only if you choose to believe it.”

  Destiny sighed. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know who or what to believe anymore.” She picked up the shredded newspaper from the waste basket beside her desk. “Except for this. My God, William, what are people going to think of me now? There I was, sitting in my rumpled bathrobe, looking for all the world as if I just crawled out of bed, with you sitting beside me looking like the cat that swallowed the Carlton Industries canary. It’s humiliating.”

  “Or you can view it as a call to arms,” he suggested lightly. “It’s time to take a good look around, Destiny, and see who’d like you to fail here.”

  “Besides you?”

  “I don’t want you to fail,” he said fiercely. “Why the devil would I want to do anything that might drive you away from London? It took me too damn long to get you here.”

  He had a point…if, of course, he was being honest. Damned if she could tell anymore. She’d been wavering until she’d seen this morning’s paper.

  If there was a chance, though, that it was someone else, she needed to look into it and prepare for battle. William wouldn’t be a bad ally, if that turned out to be the case.

  “Say I believe that you weren’t involved, where do we start to find out who was behind it? The newspaper?” She knew from planting a few clever items in the past herself, though, that no one there would ever admit to a thing.

  “No, I’ve already had someone go that route. The editors are tight-lipped. But as you suggested, those musicians are my prime suspects. I’m going to have a chat with the man I hired when I leave here. Would you like to come along?”

  She stood at once. “Just try to stop me.”

  He laughed as she strode past him and out of the building at a brisk clip. “Out for blood, are you?”

  “No more than you must be, if you’re as innocent as you’d have me believe,” she said. On the assumption that William hadn’t hired the musicians to do more than play their flutes, she asked thoughtfully, “Did you know th
ese men before you hired them?”

  “Two of the three, yes. I can’t imagine that Ian’s involved in something this underhanded. His friend always seemed a stand-up man, as well, but I know nothing about the third one.”

  “Are we starting with him, then?” she asked as she stepped into the car William had waiting at the curb.

  “No, we’ll go to the one I know best,” William said decisively, already giving instructions to his driver. “Ian should prove more open. I send a lot of business his way.”

  They found Ian Whitcomb half asleep in a two-room flat in a seedy part of London inhabited by struggling musicians, actors and artists. He brightened when he saw the two of them on his doorstep.

  “You’ve made up, then,” he said enthusiastically. “Good show!”

  “Save your excitement,” William said. “The truce is in danger, thanks to someone who has it in for one of us.”

  Ian stared at him blankly. “You’d better come in. You’re not making sense, bloke.” He gave Destiny a winning smile as he swept a pile of sheet music off of a chair and offered it to her. “So, what’s up?”

  William handed him the paper.

  “Blimey, who did this?” Ian asked, looking genuinely shocked. “It looks as if the picture was taken on New Year’s Eve.”

  “It was,” Destiny confirmed. “And the only people around were you and your friends.”

  “You can’t think it was one of us,” he said indignantly. “We wouldn’t get many jobs if it got round that we’d sell gossip or photos to the highest bidder.”

  “What other alternative is there?” William asked.

  Ian seemed stymied by the question, but then his expression suddenly brightened. “Wait a minute! I remember now. The two of you were having your argument and we were playing right through it, when there was this bright flash of light. About blinded me, it did. I looked at my mates and said something about the fireworks starting early. You can speak to ’em yourself, if you doubt me, but that must have been it. It must have been a flashbulb going off just outside.”

  Destiny looked at William. “I remember that flash,” she said slowly. “In fact, I asked you about it, but you hadn’t noticed it at all. Could there have been someone on my balcony? How would they have gotten there?”

  William’s expression turned grim. “Let’s go and have a look, shall we?” He glanced at Ian. “I hope you’re telling the truth.”

  “I’ve no reason to lie to you,” Ian insisted. “And Ms. Carlton just said she saw the light herself. If you doubt me, then you have to doubt her.”

  Back in William’s car, Destiny looked at him. “Do you believe him?”

  “Let’s just say I’m reserving judgment until I see what the outside access is like to your balcony.”

  “But, William, how would anyone else have known that you and I were together that night? We never made any plans. The only people who knew were those you hired.”

  “And the doorman of your building who let me in,” he said slowly.

  “But why would he…?” Destiny’s voice trailed off. “Chester.”

  William stared at her. “What the devil does Chester Sandhurst have to do with this?”

  “He saw to the rental of that flat for me. It would be easy enough for him to bribe the doorman into reporting back to him about your presence. He’s suspicious of my friendship with you, and he’s not especially happy about answering to me.”

  William looked skeptical. “But Chester as a spy? Really, Destiny, I don’t think he has the ingenuity, much less the gumption for it.”

  She gave him an impatient look. “I doubt he was out there personally leaping from balcony to balcony, but he has the motive and wherewithal to hire somebody more daring to do his dirty work.”

  “But all of this had to be accomplished on very short notice,” William reminded her. “The night of your party, I’m almost certain he told me he was going to Devon for the holidays.”

  “There are phones in Devon,” Destiny said. “And it’s easy enough to have people on standby even on holidays, if you pay them enough. A call from the doorman to Chester, another from Chester to his sleazy photographer. How long could that take?”

  “Not that long, but what about access?” William asked, his expression thoughtful. “He couldn’t have gotten out there through your apartment and waited, since as you say we hadn’t made the plans ahead. He would have to have been provided a key to a neighboring apartment, then climbed across. Is that feasible?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” Destiny said. “It never occurred to me to check to see if one could leap about out there.”

  They were still debating the matter when they arrived at her building. Inside, they fell silent as they rode the elevator and walked to her door. No sooner had she opened it than the phone started ringing.

  Destiny grabbed it as William went straight to the balcony. “Yes, hello,” she said distractedly.

  “Dammit, Destiny, what are you up to now?” Richard demanded.

  She sighed heavily. Only one thing could have put him in this foul humor this early in the day back in the States. “You’ve seen the picture,” she guessed.

  “Yes, I’ve seen the blasted picture. Why was that man in your apartment while you were dressed in nothing but a bathrobe? My God, you might as well advertise that the two of you are sleeping together.”

  Destiny hadn’t been any happier about the picture than Richard was, but she resented his attack and his ready assumption that she was having an affair. Of course, if her own nephew didn’t believe there could be an innocent interpretation of that picture, who would?

  “Stay out of this, Richard,” she said tightly. “I’m dealing with it.”

  “What exactly are you dealing with? The negative publicity or Harcourt?”

  “Both,” she said.

  “Well, pardon me if I find your tactics a bit unorthodox.”

  “That’s me, isn’t it?” she retorted. “Unorthodox is my middle name. You used to find it charming.”

  She could practically hear him grinding his teeth.

  “Darling,” she said, softening her tone. “It really is going to be all right. Nothing happened in my apartment. I’m okay. So is Carlton Industries. We’ll weather this storm. It’s little more than a tempest in a teapot, anyway.”

  “Have you considered the likelihood that your good friend William is the one behind this embarrassment?”

  “I’m not dense, darling. Of course I’ve considered it. In fact, I’m investigating the whole thing right now, so you’ll have to excuse me. I need to go and see what my…” She hesitated, searching for the right description. “I need to see if my partner has learned anything new from his search of the balcony.”

  “You hired a private investigator? Good. That’s the first sensible thing I’ve heard.”

  “Yes, well, I do have my sensible moments,” Destiny said blithely. “Goodbye, darling. Love to everyone.”

  She hung up quickly, scowling. That call had been the most serious warning yet. She’d heard it in Richard’s voice. He was worried about her and about the company, and if one more thing happened that he didn’t like, he was going to take action. She didn’t think he’d yank her out of the job, but he might come charging over here to fix things. That was the last thing she wanted. In fact, if she had her way, her nephew and William wouldn’t be on the same continent, much less in the same city, until she could get this mess straightened out herself. There was nothing worse than a couple of territorial, testosterone-driven males fighting for supremacy.

  William came back into the living room, triumphantly holding the end of a cardboard film packet. “Found this on the balcony next door,” he told Destiny.

  She immediately paled. “You went scrambling over to another balcony?”

  “I wanted to make sure it could be done,” he said. “Nothing to it.”

  She sank down on the edge of the sofa. “I think I feel faint.”

  William took heart a
t her reaction. “Brace up, Destiny. I’m here and in one piece.”

  “Minus only your good sense, it seems,” she muttered.

  William laughed. “Don’t tell me you’d have cared if I fell to the ground.”

  She flashed him a hard look. “I’d have been upset only about the waste of time all the explanations would have taken.”

  “Too late now. The truth is out. You do still care about me, just a little, anyway.”

  “So, maybe I do,” she finally conceded. “As I would for any old friend.”

  “That’s something at least. Now, what do you think of my find?”

  “I think it raises more questions than answers, and I can’t face them on an empty stomach. There’s enough beef left for sandwiches. Would you like one?”

  He nodded. “In the meantime, why don’t I go down and try to find out a little something about your neighbors and about the doorman on duty that night?”

  She seemed relieved to have him go, William decided, again considering that a sign of progress. In his possibly twisted view, it suggested that she was growing too comfortable having him close at hand and that she regretted it.

  Downstairs he found a chatty doorman, who was only too happy to tell him that Destiny’s neighbors—the Hyde-Lewises—were away, that, yes, the security staff had access keys to all of the flats in case of emergency, and that the doorman on duty that night was now off with a worrisome cold that had come up rather suddenly, right after New Year’s, in fact.

  William slipped his source a hefty tip and went back upstairs. He found Destiny in the kitchen, a cup of tea and an untouched sandwich in front of her. She looked up at his arrival.

  “I don’t like this, William,” she said somberly.

  “The sandwich?”

  She frowned at his attempt at levity. “No, this whole situation, people sneaking around on balconies and peering in windows. It’s given me the creeps.”

  “Would you like to move?”

  “I wonder if that wouldn’t be a good idea,” she said. “Though I’m not accustomed to running from trouble. That leaves a bad taste in my mouth, as well.”

  “You could have someone here with you,” he suggested.