A Very Private Merger

by Day Leclaire

Charles shrugged. “Himself? I’ve been known to do that when trying to puzzle through a snag in a case. Your daddy used to do it, too,” he informed her.

  A sudden idea hit Jack, one that explained a lot. “What if…” He spared a quick look in Nikki’s direction, who gave him an encouraging nod in return. “What if the killer was in Dad’s office when Elizabeth arrived?”

  Nikki stared at him in open admiration. “Jack, that’s brilliant. That never would have occurred to me, but it sure explains a few things that don’t add up.”

  The detective blinked in surprise. “How did you come up with that idea?”

  He didn’t use the words “cockamamie idea” but Jack caught the silent inference, nonetheless. He shoved back his chair and stood, pacing toward the bow window overlooking the water, then back again while he gathered his thoughts. “Elizabeth told us that Dad was unusually curt with her. She used the word cruel.”

  “Yes, she used that word with me, too. Your point?”

  “That’s not typical of my father. And it sure isn’t the way he taught me to treat women. Despite the fact he was involved with my mother, he loved his wife and had the utmost respect for her. When I asked Elizabeth if he’d ever spoken to her like that before, she said he hadn’t.”

  “No, that’s what his family and staffed claimed, as well. It was one of the reasons I doubted her story,” Charles agreed. “Go on.”

  “Why would he act so out of character that night? It doesn’t make sense, unless…” He could only hope his idea didn’t sound crazy to a trained detective. “Unless the killer was in the room at the time and Dad was trying to protect Elizabeth by getting her out of there in the most efficient and expedient way possible.”

  “That sounds exactly like something Reginald would do,” Nikki murmured. She crossed to Jack’s side and gave his hand a swift squeeze. She looked at him, her lovely blue eyes filled with sympathetic understanding. “It would explain so much, wouldn’t it? And yet, how sad that one of his last acts was to treat his wife with such cruelty in order to protect her. It probably saved her life, but still… Reginald would have hated having those the final words ever spoken between them.”

  “Assuming that’s what happened,” Charles cut in. He tilted his head to one side and closed his eyes as though rolling the thought around, looking for flaws or other possibilities. “That’s certainly one plausible explanation. Unfortunately, it’s just as plausible that he found out about her affair with Cutter Reynolds and was struggling to come to terms with it. Maybe she arrived before he could regain control of his temper.”

  “How would he have found out?” Nikki asked. “If he’d hired a private investigator, you would have uncovered that information by now. I mean, none of his children knew. I assume, based on your interviews of friends and business associates, no one else did, either, or they’d have mentioned it.”

  “And if a friend or business associate knew, I guarantee the rest of Charleston would have heard about it within hours,” Jack added a trifle sourly. “Maybe within minutes considering how fast the news spread about Dad’s affair with my mother and the fact that I was a product of that affair.”

  Charles shook his head. “No one mentioned Elizabeth’s involvement with Cutter. No one even hinted at the possibility. In fact, after she admitted to the affair, I took another run at those who’d most likely have known. She managed to keep her liaison with Cutter Reynolds well off the radar,” he confirmed.

  “Then how would Reginald have known?” Nikki asked.

  “Okay, let’s say that Jack’s right and the killer was in the room at the time. So what? What more does that give us than we already know? If we look at what I’ve learned since Kincaid’s murder, certain facts aren’t in dispute.” He ticked off on his fingers. “Point one. The murderer gained entry to the building through the front door when he walked in with Brooke Nichols shortly before TKG closed for the day. Point two. The killer had to be someone familiar with the building, as well as the location of your father’s office, since he didn’t ask for directions, but acted as though he knew where he was going. Even more, that he belonged there since it didn’t occur to Brooke to question him when he bypassed the check-in desk. Point three. His familiarity with the building and the location of Reginald’s office suggests to me that in all likelihood Reginald knew the identity of his murderer. That’s why I’ve been focused on family and close friends. There’s only one big stumbling block.”

  “Everyone has alibis,” Nikki said.

  “Yes.”

  Her expression turned uneasy. “Then point four would be to look at whoever gains the most from Reginald’s murder. In other words, motivation.”

  Charles nodded. “Exactly. So far, the only ones who benefit are the immediate family.” The detective’s gaze landed long and hard on Jack. “And of all the family you, Sinclair, with your forty-five percent share in TKG stock, stand to gain the most.”

  Jack forced himself to remain cool and calm, though McDonough ought to have his tough, gotcha look patented. It was that effective. “That doesn’t change the fact that I didn’t kill my own father. I wouldn’t. Damn it, Detective, I couldn’t.”

  “Then why was your car at a parking lot near TKG during the time of the murder?”

  “I wish I knew.” Since McDonough was being reasonably forthcoming, Jack risked a question. “How is it possible that you have photos or video of my car, but not of me?”

  The detective rocked his chair back onto two legs. “That’s just it, Sinclair. We do. We have a lovely piece of video featuring you climbing out of your expensive ruby-red Aston Martin and heading off in the direction of TKG.”

  Six

  The words shocked the hell out of Jack and he sank into his chair. “What?” He stared at the detective in utter disbelief. He struggled to marshal his thoughts, to make sense out of something so beyond the realm of possibility. “How can you have a video of me when I was never there? It has to be a forgery. I don’t know how or why someone would go to such extremes, but I’m telling you, I was working that night. I never left my office until well after the time of Dad’s death.”

  Nikki chimed in, leaping to his defense. “And if it’s true, why hasn’t he been arrested and thrown in jail?”

  Charles ignored her, keeping his gaze fixed on Jack for what seemed like an endless time. Then he closed his eyes and shook his head, swearing under his breath. “You really don’t know, do you? Either that, or you’re a damn fine actor.”

  The hot ball of tension forming at the pit of Jack’s stomach eased a fraction. Had the detective been lying in order to gauge his reaction? “All I know is that there’s no way you have a video of me at that time and place because I wasn’t there,” he stated simply.

  To his surprise, the detective opened up. “It was raining that night. Pouring. The person who got out of your car is about your size and height and wore a felt hat. You know, like one of those Indiana Jones knockoffs?”

  “Right. We had a name for the idiots who wore those.”

  “Yeah, we did, too.” McDonough’s gaze flashed with humor and the men had a moment of perfect accord. “Not a word I choose to repeat in front of Nikki,” he added.

  “So, you never saw his face?” Jack asked.

  “No. And what little we could see he disguised with a beard and thick glasses. He also wore a heavy raincoat, which made it even more difficult to get a good feel for his overall build.”

  Jack mulled over the description. “Any chance it was a woman?”

  McDonough shrugged. “Doubtful. According to Brooke Nichols he was tall, nearly RJ’s height.”

  “Another point against me.”

  “Put together, it makes for some serious circumstantial evidence against you.” An uncomfortable silence descended, one McDonough eventually broke. “What did you and your father discuss when you spoke to him the day he died?”

  “We spoke the day before, not the day of,” Jack said absently.

  The detective’
s gaze sharpened. “Wrong, son. When Matt asked about the phone records, I took another look. There was a call from Carolina Shipping to your father’s private line about an hour before closing.”

  It took Jack a second to absorb the information. “From Carolina Shipping? The main number or my own private line?”

  Charles reeled off the number from memory.

  “That’s the main line. I always call him from my cell phone or my office, which is a different number from the main line.”

  “This time you didn’t.”

  Jack’s back teeth clamped together. “Why are you so determined to hang me for my father’s murder?”

  McDonough shrugged. “Why does every new piece of information lead right back to you, Sinclair? It stirs my curiosity, son. It truly does.”

  “Take another look at those phone records,” Jack demanded. “You’ll see that every call I ever placed to my father was either from my cell or my personal business line to either his cell or his private office number.”

  “Then if you didn’t call him, who did?”

  Jack’s expression fell into grim lines. “Good question, one I intend to look into as soon as I get to the office.”

  “Uh-huh. Well, while you’re at it see if you can’t come up with an explanation for your car being at the parking lot near TKG. A better one than ‘I didn’t do it.’”

  Jack struggled to contain his frustration. “I have a suggestion. Why don’t you show me the video you have?”

  Suspicion leaped into the detective’s face. “Why?”

  “I want to see proof that it’s my car.”

  “They’re your tags, son.” Even so, McDonough weighed the idea then shrugged. “Set up an appointment and I’ll see if I can get it approved.” He shoved back his chair and stood. “Nikki, I’d like to warn you off this guy, but I doubt you’ll listen.”

  She offered Charles a gentle smile. “Sorry. I’m in it for the long haul.”

  He sighed. “I was afraid you’d say that.” He nailed Jack with an arctic look. “Walk me out.” It wasn’t a request.

  McDonough didn’t speak until they reached the front door. Once there, he turned on Jack, his expression vicious with intent, his voice a dark whisper. “Her daddy and I go way back, Sinclair. He took a bullet meant for me and there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t live with those consequences.”

  “She doesn’t blame you.” It was all Jack could think to say.

  “God knows why. That doesn’t change the fact that there’s not a man on the force who won’t stand for her. You understand what I’m saying?” The detective didn’t wait for a response. He simply leaned in to hammer home his point. “You hurt her and you won’t be able to cross the street without getting arrested for jaywalking. That’s assuming you still have a pair of legs capable of walking once we’re done with you.”

  And with that, he spun on his heel and left.

  * * *

  “How bad was the threat?” Nikki asked sympathetically.

  Jack spared her a brief glance before returning his gaze to the road. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “He didn’t mean it.”

  “Right.” A humorless smile cut across his face. “I think you have a tendency to underestimate how protective Charles is of you…and the extent to which he and his cop buddies will go, if our relationship causes you any grief.”

  “Here’s a thought… .” she offered brightly. “Don’t cause me any grief.”

  “An excellent plan.” His irritation faded, replaced by a sincerity that caused her heart to lurch. “Trust me, the last thing I ever want to do is cause you grief.”

  “Oh, Jack,” she murmured. “There are times you say the most unexpected—and delightful—things.”

  “I mean them.”

  “I know you do.” She touched his thigh, feeling the muscle clench beneath her gentle caress. “That’s what makes them all the more special.”

  They turned onto East Battery, the traffic thickening. “Your place or mine tonight?” he asked.

  “Your place is fine. I want to give that hot tub another spin.”

  “I’m all over that suggestion.” He flashed her a quick grin. “And I hope, all over you.”

  “Count on it.” Reluctantly, she switched her attention to the business of the day. “I assume you’re going to look into who might have called your father from Carolina Shipping?”

  “It’s the first item on my agenda.”

  “And then?”

  “If they made the call from Carolina Shipping, chances are I know the person. So, then I plan to have a long talk with the individual before turning them in to the police. It might be interesting to know their movements the night of my father’s murder…including whether there’s any chance they had access to my car.”

  “Huh. Your day sounds a lot more interesting than mine,” Nikki complained. “I don’t suppose you’d let me tag along for a little while? Two eyes and ears are always better than one.”

  “What about work?”

  “I am working. I’m spying on you, remember?”

  To her profound relief, he laughed. “Right, right. Can’t imagine how I forgot.” Jack passed the access road leading to The Kincaid Group, and continued on. “You can hang with me until lunch. I have meetings this afternoon that I’d rather not postpone.”

  She started to ask about them, but realizing it might be a conflict of interest, fell silent. They entered the parking lot for Carolina Shipping. Jack pulled into his usual spot beside a hedge of English boxwood, the fragrant scent filling the air. They exited the car and he unlocked the door leading directly from the parking lot into his office, confirming her suspicions about the private entrance. No wonder Charles still considered Jack a viable suspect.

  “Too many people were in and out of my office,” he said, clearly reading her mind. “Slipping out would have been a foolish chance to take. Anyone could have discovered me gone, and later told the police.”

  Nikki followed him inside and considered the timeline. “I agree. That’s why none of this makes sense.”

  “So, why am I still a suspect?”

  “I don’t know, Jack. The killer needed a lot of time, time you didn’t have. Not only did he have to wait for the building to clear out to confront Reginald in private, he also had to wait outside TKG so he could walk in with an employee in order to avoid signing the logbook at the front desk.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. If he didn’t sign in, why take the log sheet?” Jack asked.

  “I wondered about that, too.” Nikki worked through the possibilities. “Maybe in case security made a note of his arrival?”

  “Better safe than sorry?”

  “It could be just that simple.”

  He mulled it over and nodded in agreement. “Sounds reasonable.” He waved her toward a chair and picked up the phone on his desk and pushed a button. “I’m here, Gail,” he informed his assistant. “Would you please have Lynn come to my office when she gets a chance? Thanks.” He returned to the timeline. “So, once he’s in he’d head for Reginald’s office. No point in wasting time, right?”

  “Not if he was worried about getting your car back to you before anyone realized it was missing.”

  “Next problem… How would he know my father would be there, and more importantly, be alone?”

  “It was closing time,” Nikki said slowly. “Your father often worked late. Let’s assume the killer confirmed Reginald was still at the office by calling him from Carolina Shipping. Maybe the killer assumed Reginald would be alone.”

  “Hmm. Working late seems to run in the family.” Jack approached, his gaze warming. “Not as much as it used to. At least, not for the past three months. You’ve had a seriously negative impact on my workaholic tendencies.”

  She grinned. “So my diabolical plan is working.”

  “All too well.” He slid his arms around her and nuzzled the sensitive area just beneath her ear, driving every coherent thought from h
er head. “When I weigh the pleasure of work versus the pleasure of spending those hours with you, work can’t compare.”

  “Oh, Jack,” she whispered.

  Unable to resist, she kissed him, putting her heart and soul into the melding of lips and bodies. She’d never known a man capable of arousing her to such extremes, with no more than a lingering glance, a glancing touch, a touching comment. He loosened the buttons of her jacket and slipped his hands beneath, caressing her through the silk shell she wore.

  Time drifted away, and she submerged herself in a desire more profound than anything she’d experienced before. Over the past three months she’d done more than fall in love with Jack Sinclair. She’d committed to him, allowed herself to bond with him, to open her emotions so completely that she couldn’t imagine being with another man. Ever.

  “Nikki, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask—”

  A light tapping on the door interrupted them and the two reluctantly pulled apart. While Nikki buttoned her jacket, Jack made a visible effort to switch gears. Was it wrong she experienced a quick feminine satisfaction that it took several long seconds for him to pull it off?

  “Come in,” he called out as soon as they were presentable again.

  Lynn stepped into the office. “You asked to see me, Jack?” Her gaze landed on Nikki and she smiled with the sort of sweetness Nikki was beginning to associate with her overall personality. “How lovely to see you again, Ms. Thomas. I hope you had a good weekend.”

  “Excellent, thank you. And please, call me Nikki.”

  Jack waited through the social chitchat with barely concealed impatience before smoothly switching to the matter at hand. “Lynn, I need to find out who placed a call to my father’s office the day of his murder. It would have been from the main company line versus from my office. Around four, I believe. Could you check around?”

  A swift frown replaced her sunny smile. “I’ll get right on it,” she said.

  The instant she left, Jack glanced at Nikki. She could see him debating whether to pick up where they’d left off and take her in his arms. With a smile of regret, he stood and wandered over to the coffeemaker he kept by his wet bar. Gail had already brewed the first pot and he poured two cups, handing one to Nikki. He eased his hip onto the corner of his desk and took a slow, appreciative sip. She joined him, sitting in the chair closest to where he lounged and crossed her legs, balancing the cup and saucer on her knee with practiced ease.