Drawing Hearts

by J. M. Jeffries

  Kenzie wasn’t quite certain she understood what her brother was saying, but she did understand someone had been stealing money from the casino. “My question is, if someone is skimming money from the casino, is money being skimmed someplace else?”

  Reed grinned at her. “Good question. I checked all the other areas that take in money—the hotel, the restaurants, the bar and shops—and they appear to be fine. The skimming appears to be only in the casino. I plan to check more thoroughly, but the casino is the only place where this scam appears to be in effect.”

  Miss. E. frowned. “I don’t like it when people try to outsmart me. I want whoever is doing this caught and punished. Do we know how much money has been siphoned off?”

  “From what I can tell, it’s been going on for almost four years,” Scott said. “My friend looked through all the past statements for the Seychelles account and a little over seventeen millions dollars has been routed through it.”

  “That’s a lot of money,” Jasper said, a serious look in his eyes. “No wonder my profit margin wasn’t what I thought it should be the last three or four years. It seemed as though I was losing more and more money and I couldn’t explain why.”

  “Now we know why,” Scott replied.

  “How do we find out who’s behind this?” Hunter asked.

  “I’m trying to track down all the officers of all the companies that may have ties to the two major shell companies either directly or indirectly. That’s going to take time.”

  “You said your investigation may not be legal?” Miss E. asked Scott.

  “Checking for the officers of a company is a matter of public record, but breaking into the account is something else,” Scott said.

  Reed nodded in agreement.

  Kenzie found herself growing tense. Who would hate Jasper and Miss E. so much that they would try to sabotage the hotel and casino? Considering all the odd things that had happened at the hotel over the past year, she could see someone was trying to make the hotel and casino look bad. There’d been the attempted robbery of the New Year’s Eve jackpot money, and then all the kitchen disasters from the fire to the weird tampering with Lydia’s cabinet and floor orders. And now the skimming of the cash cards. Were they all related? These annoyances cost time and money because someone had to fix them.

  Her phone vibrated. She glanced at the text. It was from Bianca. I have a problem, can you come? “Miss E., I have an issue at the boutique. Can I be excused?”

  Miss E. waved her hand. “Of course, we’ll catch you up on everything later.”

  Kenzie smiled at Reed as she stood and stopped herself from bending over to kiss him. That would be bad, especially in front of her brothers. Though she did catch the amused look on Scott’s face. Of course he would notice. He noticed everything.

  * * *

  The boutique was in an uproar. Kenzie paused inside the entryway. One of the saleswomen was in a corner dabbing tears away from her eyes. A customer brushed past Kenzie as though in a hurry to get away.

  “What is going on?” Kenzie said to Bianca.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Bianca said in a half whisper. “It’s Mr. Jasper’s daughter and she’s just...disrupting everything.”

  “I’ll take over.” Kenzie had only met Louisa Biggins a couple of times and had a hard time believing she was Jasper’s daughter. They were so different.

  Louisa Biggins was a tall, slim woman in her mid-to-late-thirties. She had long, dark brown hair with subtle blond highlights, a narrow face and angry blue eyes. She stood in the large corner dressing room. A pile of clothes had been tossed on the floor and Kenzie tried not to flinch. A Christian Siriano leaf-print sheath lay on top.

  “You call this fashion?” Louisa said, whirling around to face Kenzie. She wore an Alexander McQueen kimono of red, white and black that cost three thousand dollars.

  “Alexander McQueen does,” Kenzie said as she bent to pick up the clothes on the floor, noticing a footprint on a white Donna Karan sheath. She bit her lips at the needless destruction. “If you can’t find something in the store, we can order anything you want. We have new software that allows you to try on clothes from a number of designers in a virtual dressing room. It’s in the beta stage, but you might find something. Let me take a photo of you and I’ll show you how the virtual dressing room works.”

  Louisa stripped off the kimono and dropped it on the floor. Kenzie caught it before it fell. What she really wanted to do was toss the woman out on her ass, but she was Jasper’s daughter.

  “Then show me,” Louisa said in an imperious tone.

  Kenzie grabbed the camera and her laptop and sat down on the chair in the corner, setting her laptop on the tiny round table. She snapped a photo of Louisa and uploaded it into the software the way Reed had shown her. Then she stood and began to show Louisa how to try on dresses.

  Louisa sat down wearing her bra and panties. Kenzie grabbed several dresses still on hangers and headed out to turn everything over to Bianca to be re-racked if they could. The Donna Karan would have to be cleaned, but Kenzie would give it to Lydia, who was the same size four as Louisa.

  Bianca took the clothes. “We had to put up with her when her father owned the place, but I’d hoped she’d change now that your grandmother is in charge.”

  “Honey,” Kenzie said, “women like her never change.” Kenzie had dealt with women just like Louisa before—pampered, bored and brittle. “She’s Jasper’s daughter, so we’ll be as polite as we can.”

  Bianca just nodded and went to put away the clothes that could be re-racked.

  Kenzie returned to Louisa to find her staring at the screen. “This isn’t fashion, this is a travesty. Look at this. Size twenty-four. You may as well put this dress on a cow.”

  Kenzie stiffened with anger. The desire to be polite to Louisa just went out the window. She wasn’t about to defend her decisions to this angry woman. “We’re done.” She snapped the laptop closed and grabbed it away from Louisa. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you are not welcome in my store. We don’t need your money.”

  Louisa stood and glared at Kenzie, who glared right back. Louisa huffed. She quickly dressed in a cream-colored sheath, grabbed her purse and opened the door to the dressing room, slapping it against the wall and stalked away.

  “I don’t like that woman,” Kenzie said.

  “Nobody does,” Bianca replied.

  “How did Jasper breed such a harpy when he’s so nice?”

  Bianca shrugged. “The running bet was that he found her abandoned on the street and took pity on her. Considering the number of husbands she’s been through, I don’t think they much liked her, either, once her true colors came out.”

  Kenzie cringed. “What’s to like?”

  “She used to haunt the jewelry store, make us special-order high-end items and just take what she wanted and leave.”

  “Did anyone ever complain to Jasper?”

  Bianca shook her head. “One time, and after that, we were just supposed to report what she took and Jasper would pay for it.”

  Kenzie took a deep breath trying to ease the anger that still coursed through her. Maybe she should charge the cleaning bill to Jasper, but shook her head. Jasper didn’t deserve to be held responsible for his daughter. No real harm had been done.

  “I can clean this,” Bianca said. “It won’t take much. But there is a little tear in the hem. I can repair that too.”

  “You can just have the dress, then,” Kenzie said. “You earned it. After all, you put up with her for how long before you called me?”

  “Too long.” Bianca gave a small chuckle. “And thank you.”

  Kenzie smiled as Bianca took the damaged dress into the back room. The loss of the dress was a small price to pay to keep her staff happy and never have to see that woman in her
boutique again.

  * * *

  The door to Reed’s office opened and Kenzie peered around the edge. “I thought you were going to San Francisco today.”

  “No, I canceled.” He had too much work to do to head to a comic book convention.

  “Canceled what?” She stepped into his office and sat down across from him.

  “WC Combo Con.” At the confused look on her face, he added, “West Coast Comic Book Convention.”

  “That sounds like fun. Do you dress up as a superhero?”

  “Not anymore. When I was in high school, I liked to dress up as the Flash.”

  “The intellectual nerd superhero.” She grinned at his embarrassment.

  He’d loved dressing up, but the image didn’t work as the executive of a major company and he’d stopped. “Cosplay is a big part of the conventions.”

  “Cosplay?”

  “Costume playacting. Get in character and stay that way through the whole convention.” He’d had a group of other high school friends who’d banded together at the conferences. They’d been the object of a lot of teasing in high school. Dressing up as his favorite character had been fun. And he’d been amused when a couple of the bullies from high school had applied for positions in his company. For all their disdain for his choice of entertainment, they’d ended up working for him. He’d personally conducted those interviews and taken great pleasure from the looks on their faces when they’d discovered he was the owner.

  “You need to go.”

  “I just have too much work.”

  “Take it with you if you have to, but you’re going. I’m going with you and I’ll make sure you balance work and fun. So get packed, I’ll meet you at the front desk in an hour. It’s my turn to kidnap you.”

  She was kidnapping him. Obviously, turnabout was fair play.

  He’d never shared this part of himself with a woman he’d dated. And this was his chance to introduce her to his friends. He headed to his suite to pack.

  * * *

  “Ready?” Kenzie asked when he exited the elevator.

  He held a backpack with his laptop and tablet in it and carried an overnight bag. “I’m ready.”

  The drive to San Francisco was pleasant. Kenzie had insisted she drive so he could do some last-minute work. He’d been making sure that various departments at the Mariposa were not victims of skimming, too. So far, as he’d mentioned at the meeting, he’d been able to determine the casino was the only element affected, but he wanted to double-check just to make sure.

  She tuned the Sirius radio to classical music and left him to finish his work.

  The convention, being held at the Concourse Exhibition Center, was just a few blocks from Mission Bay. When they finally entered the city, Reed pulled up a map and directions on his laptop and directed Kenzie to the hotel.

  He checked in while Kenzie parked the car in the small parking structure behind the hotel. He called her and gave her the room number. Just as he was inserting the key card into the scanner, she appeared, pulling her suitcase. Suddenly, sharing a bedroom with her for three nights seemed more intimate than he’d expected.

  “What a pretty suite,” she said as she wheeled her suitcase into the bedroom.

  “I like to be comfortable.”

  She returned to the living area and went into the kitchenette to open the refrigerator, removing two bottles of water. She handed one to him and sat down crossing her legs while she twisted the bottle open.

  “So what’s the agenda?”

  “First of all, I want to call my friends and let them know I did make it. Then I have to check in at the convention center. Fortunately, I always order a few extra tickets and I will call registration to give them your name. Then we can head over to the convention center and pick up our badges. Tonight is the welcome party and tomorrow the workshops and lectures will start.” He handed her a brochure with the list of events.

  She opened it and perused it. “I don’t even know where to start. I was hoping for drinking and debauchery.”

  Reed grinned. “That comes later. But right now how about dinner?”

  “Where?”

  “The Franciscan Crab. It’s right on the bay. My friends and I have a reservation for seven thirty.”

  “Can you see Alcatraz?”

  He nodded. “It’s lit up at night and pretty spectacular.”

  “I’m going to unpack. I’m assuming casual is the dress code for dinner.”

  He nodded. Nothing about Kenzie was casual. For some reason he was anxious to show her off to his friends.

  * * *

  The Franciscan Crab restaurant was an institution in San Francisco, boasting the best crab in the world. Kenzie was impressed as Reed opened the door for her. They checked in for the reservations and were taken up a flight of stairs to the dining area. A bank of windows overlooked the bay and she paused to stare.

  Ferries, with running lights, pulled away from the piers. She wondered if they were heading to Alcatraz or just taking people home. A searchlight rotated on the island. A few seals bounced in the water along the pier’s edge. A couple of late-night tourists had their cameras out trying to take photos. The flash of the cameras bounced off the water.

  She’d been to San Francisco a few times, but never seemed to have time to sightsee. Maybe this time she would.

  They approached a long table with seating for six. Three men and a woman immediately stood.

  “Kenzie, these are my friends,” Reed said. “That’s Bob Whittier. He’s a graphic artist.”

  Bob nodded at Kenzie. He looked to be around thirty, with pale blond hair framing a thin face. He wore thick glasses over amber-colored eyes. He gave her a shy smile.

  “Tara Preston works for the government in a capacity we can’t talk about.”

  “I’d have to inform my superiors and they’ll send out a Special Forces team to take you out.” Tara was a tiny woman, maybe five foot two with long, wavy brown hair, hazel eyes and a sweet face.

  “This is Seth Powers. He’s a wildlife photographer for National Geographic.” Seth was a sturdy-looking man with graying hair. He gave her a broad smile showing perfectly straight white teeth.

  “And finally, this is Arthur Sentovich. He’s an engineering professor at MIT.”

  Kenzie waved at him. She felt a little intimidated by the brain trust. She was having a hard time reconciling these people with their love of comic books and costumes.

  Reed seated her at the table across from Tara, who smiled at her. At least she wasn’t the only woman.

  “And you all know each other how?” Kenzie queried.

  “High school,” Tara offered with a grin. “We were known as the Geek Squad.”

  “I hated high school,” Kenzie said.

  “You? Princess, cheerleader, or prom queen?” Tara asked curiously. She leaned her elbows on the table.

  “None of the above,” Kenzie replied. High school had been horrible. She had always felt as if she didn’t fit in, especially when she wanted to take sewing classes. All the girls had teased her about her habit of wearing the clothes she’d designed herself. In her mind, she’d been more fashionable than all of them put together.

  “You’re kidding me?” Tara gazed at her, disbelief in her eyes.

  “Nope. Decent grades, president of Art Club. But for the most part I kept my head down and tried to stay out of trouble. Vegas is a rough town.” Kenzie glanced at the menu. She already knew what she wanted. “You guys know. Independence is not admired in high school. If a girl didn’t belong to a particular clique or dated the right guy, they were either ignored or bullied. Let’s face it, with my three older brothers—my big, big older brothers—I was not on a lot of guys’ social calendars. Which was fine with me. Now, in college, I found my stride. But then
again, I had the coolest best friend ever. You don’t need to know about me. I want to know about Reed.” She elbowed him in the arm. He gave her an uncomfortable look.

  “He was the leader of our pack,” Bob put in.

  “What kind of crazy stuff did you guys get into?”

  Reed cleared his throat. “You don’t need to know that.”

  “Of course I do.” Kenzie just grinned at him, amused at his discomfort.

  He mumbled something just as the waitress came to take their drink order, putting their conversation on hold for a few minutes. Kenzie decided to just have water. She had the feeling she’d need to keep her wits about her with this group of people.

  After the waitress left, Bob gave a mild shrug. “Reed and I broke into the locker room and put itching powder on all the jocks’ underwear.”

  “Nasty,” Kenzie said in admiration.

  “Not really. The jocks picked on us all the time. We were just evening the playing field.”

  “And,” Seth put in, “The jocks stole the biology exam one semester. We stole it back and changed the answers. Boy, that was one epic jock fail.”

  “Did you look at the answers?”

  “No,” Seth said. “We weren’t going to fail biology. I could have taken the test half-asleep and gotten an A.”

  Reed nodded in agreement. “High school was boring. It was something to endure before getting on with the rest of our lives.”

  “I went back home to settle my mom’s estate couple months ago,” Arthur said, “and I ran into Johnny Morrison.” He glanced at Kenzie. “He was the star quarterback on the varsity squad and he has a son who is the biggest geek-in-training I’ve ever seen in my life. He must have gotten his brains from his mother. Johnny manages an office supply store. His big shoulders have slumped to his middle. He asked me out for a beer, wanting to know what to do about his son.”