Roadster (Iron Ladies Book 1)

by Danielle Norman

  “Thanks, Livi.”

  “I’ll be at the office in a bit. I need to take a nap, I was up all night going through those.”

  “Take it easy, we’ve got this.” Adeline pressed disconnect then scooted her chair around to face to the large television screen.

  Melanie had grabbed the remote control and turned it on, and Sunday sent the first file to the screen.

  “Can you lay the photos out in a tile format, so we can see several at the same time? I want to compare them. We have to be missing something.” Adeline had one main philosophy, and that was Occam’s razor: the simplest solution was usually the correct one. So, she looked for the simplest answer within the pictures.

  “Okay, what do we see?” She leaned in and looked at each.

  “His personal secretary is a guy. So, to the public, it appears that his only close connection to a woman is his wife and the few interns who work in the office.”

  “That’s how he has avoided gossip.” Melanie leaned forward as she spoke and focused on the photos.

  “According to the date on that photo it was taken on a Saturday. It is summer in Orlando. Seems to me that he either is always wearing a suit, or is working hard to maintain his appearance. He doesn’t want anyone to see him relax.”

  “Look at this photo.” Adeline pointed. “I think that is Capital Grille, and this one”—she pointed to another—“is Capital Grille. All of his meetings are in upscale places, places where his highest contributors would dine. Is he doing that to make a connection so they see him as an equal, or so they see him having legitimate meetings in public places?”

  “Or so the taxpayers are paying for those hundred-to-two-hundred-dollar meals?” Melanie asked, her tone full of disdain.

  “Okay, so he seems perfect from the outside. Chivalrous, charming, pleasant, would you both agree?” Adeline looked at Sunday and Melanie for their agreement.

  Sunday clicked and brought up the next set of tiled pictures. “These seem pretty innocent, Greg reading newspapers. Greg and his secretary at a fundraiser.”

  “I’m sorry, but I always hated the fakeness of politicians and the baby-kissing bullshit. Look at him, he’s sweating like a whore in church, but he gets out of his car to walk the streets just to turn heads and attract attention. And really . . . who the hell wants a selfie with him? Look at him holding that damn selfie stick, did he come with his own?”

  Sunday took a screenshot of the photo then minimized the screen. She opened another page and uploaded the photo, and they all waited as TinEye searched the billions of online photos. “The photo was posted on Instagram. ‘Man of the People’ is the tagline. ‘Mayor Delaney spends the day with the people of Orlando. He’s never too busy for a selfie.’ It looks like the image was uploaded by Greg himself.”

  Sunday scrolled through to another set of photos and clicked tile format. “These all look boring . . . coffee, newspaper, what appears to be a district meeting, dinner with Loren and the Chathams?”

  “How quaint,” Melanie scoffed. “Next.”

  Adeline held a hand up. “Wait, zoom in on the picture with the Chathams.”

  When it was filling the screen, Adeline grinned. “Do you see that…is that her purse? It isn’t a briefcase, look . . . his briefcase is on the other side of him.”

  Sunday zoomed in on the spot Adeline was pointing to.

  “Looks to me like he’s dropping a note into her purse,” Melanie said, none too impressed.

  “That isn’t a note, that’s some kind of document. It’s folded, but look right there”—Adeline stood and walked over to the screen and pointed—“those are typed letters, you can barely see them through the paper, but they are typed.”

  “Maybe it’s about their next liaison, or maybe it’s just a piece of paper about the fucking Junior League?”

  Adeline shook her head at Melanie’s statement. “Not buying it.”

  “There isn’t anything in the photo that indicates something shady.”

  “Sunday, can you find the photos of the forms I found in the hidden compartment?”

  Sunday rapidly flipped through pictures and then brought them up, they were photos of a land deed under the name LeAen Holdings and a bill of sale to Tertiary Development.

  “Why would he hide these? Sunday, see what you can find out about either of these companies.”

  “Will do.”

  “Up until now, we’ve only seen what Greg wants us to see. We need to get closer. Olivia can’t keep tailing him, and let’s be honest, everything he’s doing seems up front to the naked eye. Until we find out what he has going on with these companies that he needs to keep secretive, I’m not sure where we go next.” Melanie leaned back in her chair and folded her hands behind her head.

  “What exactly are you suggesting?” Sunday asked.

  “We get up close and personal. We need to become friends with him, get into his inner circle. He isn’t home enough for us to do the housekeeper or nanny act. Sunday, can you look to see if there are any positions open at City Hall?”

  “On it.” Sunday nodded and started searching online.

  “Let’s see if Loren can host a dinner party.” Melanie was still coming up with ideas.

  “I’d say play golf, but obviously, he is only interested in sinking a different kind of ball,” Adeline said as she fought to hold back her laugh.

  “Really?” Melanie shook her head. “What about Riley?”

  “What about him?”

  “We could use Riley to get to the mayor.” Melanie arched a brow. “Didn’t Sunday mention a land deal? Riley is a land developer? Maybe that’s the in we need. That guy will do anything to help his sister.” Melanie exaggerated a wink. “You could pretend to be his girlfriend.”

  “I don’t want to pretend.”

  “I know that you don’t.”

  “That isn’t what I meant, Melanie, and you know it.”

  “I know no such thing.” Melanie stared at her thoughtfully. “Seriously, though, I think this is it, truly. Think about it. Riley owns a company that does land development. We think that Greg is doing something shady with Loren’s property. Playing off those two things could get us close enough to figure out what the hell is going on.”

  Adeline glared, knowing that Melanie was right. That this was the way in. But how could she turn this so she didn’t come across as inept by asking for his help? The man would rather chew glass than do anything for her. She racked her brain and no ideas flashed before her, so she bid her goodbye and went to where she did her best thinking . . . Neiman Marcus.

  After a few hours of retail therapy Adeline headed home, it was just after ten at night. Exhausted, she tossed the bags onto her bed, pulled out her cell phone, and dialed Riley. A little piece of her hoped that the call would go straight to voicemail.

  “Hello?” His voice was deep, and Adeline shivered.

  “Mr. Thomas, this is Adeline Morgan with the Iron Ladies, I’m sorry to be calling you so late.”

  “Hey, Adeline, that’s okay. Is something wrong? Is Loren all right?”

  Why did the man have to be so damn nice, why now? His first questions were to make sure that nothing was wrong and his sister was okay? God, he was a regular Casa-fuckin-nova. “Yes, everything is fine. I . . .I mean, we were wondering if you’d be willing to come in and talk with us at your earliest convenience?”

  “Can I ask what about?”

  “We have an idea that might help you get your rezoning and help your sister at the same time.” Adeline was pleased by this ingenious little breakthrough.

  “Okay, I can come in tomorrow. I have a meeting at nine, but after that, I can head to you. It might be close to eleven, if that’s okay.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Oh and Adeline?”

  “Yes?”

  “Something that you should know about me, I would do anything for the women in my life.”

  “Well, Loren is a lucky girl to have a brother like you then. Thank you. I
. . . we look forward to seeing you.” Damn it all to hell, she’d almost said I again, as if she was the one who wanted to see him. She sooo didn’t, he got on her nerves, all seven trillion of them. Besides that, he was an ass, an ass with a gorgeous body, good job, and huge heart. I’d do anything for the women in my life. What the fuck was that supposed to mean, why didn’t he just say his sister? And was this really for his sister, or for her? God, she had no clue anymore.

  Chapter Eleven

  Adeline

  Adeline sat in the parking lot at the courthouse and felt a little like Inspector Gadget as she slid her gun from its holster and into her glove box. Before closing it, she grabbed her purse and pulled out her handcuffs, her stun gun, and her mace. Shaking her handbag so everything jostled a bit, she looked once more just to make sure she wasn’t forgetting anything. She was about to go through metal detectors and the courthouse officers wouldn’t take too kindly to her bringing in a weapon. Once she was sure she wouldn’t be arrested, she locked her glove box and climbed out of her car.

  As she walked in, Adeline waved to several deputies and cops that she knew. Even though the Iron Ladies were private investigators, they worked very closely with their local law enforcement, since it made their job so much easier.

  Once through security, she took the elevator up to the tax office and then waited in line for Belle.

  “Hello, Adeline, what brings you here today?”

  “Hey, I need to see if you can look up two properties for me.”

  “What’s the address of the first one?”

  “Ninety-four-oh-five Snow Queen Drive.”

  Belle typed and waited. “What information do you need?”

  “The owner.”

  “Looks like it is owned by Tertiary Development, the signer on the closing forms was Trinity Reynolds.”

  Adeline wrote the information down, wondering how this Trinity played into the whole Hillary/Greg affair. “Okay, the second property is undeveloped. I have the assessor process number.”

  She rattled off the numbers, and after Belle had it pulled up, her expression turned confused.

  “The property was owned by Loren Delaney, but a quit claim deed was filed about fourteen months ago. There is currently no name on record, which is bizarre.”

  “Believe it or not, we’ve found several weird things lately.”

  “I’ll look into this a bit more and pull the official copy of the deed.”

  “Thanks, Belle.” Adeline turned, and as she walked back to her car, she sent the information that she’d just learned in a group text to the rest of the Iron Ladies.

  The next item on her list of things to do was to call Barrett, their favorite attorney, a partner at Morgan and Stern. She needed information on Deena Charles, who just happened to be a PA at his firm.

  “Yo.”

  “Hey, Adeline, what’s up?”

  “How closely do you work with Deena Charles?”

  “Oh god.” His groan was mixed with a chuckle. “Pretty close, she’s my filer.”

  “Perfect. Got a few minutes for me? I’m just across the street at the court house.”

  “Sure.”

  They hung up, Adeline drove the block and a half over to Barrett’s law firm’s parking lot. When she got out, he was waiting for her.

  “So what exactly do you need?”

  Adeline looked Barrett up and down and, not for the first time, wished that she felt something for him. The man was gorgeous, but every time Adeline saw him, she saw a brother. “I need to get her to tell me about Greg Delaney’s temper and why she left her internship at the mayor’s office after only six months.”

  “How do you propose to get her talk to you?”

  Adeline smiled. “Sisterhood.” She kissed her fist and thumped her chest.

  But Adeline quickly discovered that not all women were as committed to sisterhood as she was.

  “Anything, something that can point me in the right direction.” She hated lying, but sometimes it was a necessary evil. “My client is young and scared. She thinks that she is all alone. Can you tell me about his temper, did he make any inappropriate advances, anything?”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Morgan, but I just don’t remember.”

  Adeline wanted to smack the woman, it had only been three years ago, she hadn’t fucking forgotten anything. “Can I leave you my number in case your memory suddenly comes back? Hopefully you remember something soon, I’m really worried for her and would hate for anything to happen, especially if it was something that could be avoided.” When lying didn’t work, guilt sometimes did the trick.

  “Anything I say is off the record?”

  “Absolutely. It’s considered hearsay until you give a statement.”

  Deena fiddled with her hands for several seconds before casting a nervous glance around the room and whispering, “I married my high school sweetheart right after graduation.”

  “So you were married during your time as an intern?”

  Deena nodded.

  “Did this cause a problem?”

  “He made me uncomfortable. He never did anything that could be taken as inappropriate, but he definitely made plenty of opportunities available.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He always asked me to accompany him to meetings, and then he’d insist that I ride with him, so it was just the two of us in the car. He’d have me doing stuff in his office with the door closed, and even staying late. He never made a move, but he did give me plenty of opportunities to make one if I was interested. He even made several comments about his wife not understanding him and being overworked and needing to relax. I don’t know, I was just uncomfortable, which is why I’ve never said anything. What if I was just reading something into it and he wasn’t freaky like that? I don’t want to be responsible for ruining someone’s career or marriage just because I read the situation wrong, so I left.”

  “What about his temper?”

  “What temper? I never saw him lose his temper, he was always methodically reserved.”

  “Methodically reserved, that’s an astute observation. Thanks, Deena, for your time. Still take my number just in case you remember anything else.” Adeline handed over the card that held only her name and cell number.

  On her way out, she stopped to say goodbye to Barrett and then headed back to the Iron Ladies office. She had about twenty minutes before Riley was due.

  She had just gotten comfy and seated behind her desk, and was feeling decidedly less assured about the plan they had hatched last night. The plan they had hatched? No, it was more like, the plan Melanie had concocted. Because for all of Adeline’s outward bravado, the reality was it only served as a useful mask to hide her deep-seated inner insecurities. She’d hidden it from almost everyone and managed to keep up the tough-girl act over these past few years. Yet, it seemed like the first time in god knew how long that there was a guy Adeline found attractive, and he wasn’t falling at her feet. No, he seemed to despise her . . . damn it all . . . not to mention that he was related to a client.

  And she was going to have to use him as part of the decoy and spend a large amount of time with him. Damn, damn, triple damn. She gave herself a mental shake, the heels, lipstick, and diva attitude might not be the real Adeline, but it was all that she was willing to let anyone see, no one needed to know that she was really emotional and often felt like a vulnerable piece of crap.

  Adeline was scanning social media posts of the other interns and cringed every time she read another comment about Greg Delaney and his assumed perfection. “Perfect, my ass. More like perfect douche.” She continued compiling a list of the mayor’s body language, who he seemed to lean closer to, and where his eyes appeared to be looking in each photo.

  “Holy shit, holy shit, I’ve got it. You aren’t going to believe this.” Sunday knocked over her chair as she jumped up from her computer. All three women snapped their heads up and waited for Sunday to calm down enough to speak. “I got it. LeAen, Ter
tiary, and Greg Dela—”

  The elevator doors opened, stopping Sunday mid-sentence, and out walked Riley.

  “Fuck,” they all said in unison.

  “Wow, I can’t remember the last time I received such a warm welcome.”

  Adeline hurried over to welcome him. “Sorry, it wasn’t directed at you, truthfully.”

  “Sure it wasn’t.” Riley sounded somewhat comforted by Adeline’s words, and she was relieved to hear him joking.

  “No, I’m serious. Sunday was just getting ready to tell us something exciting, and we were all waiting to hear it when the elevator dinged and scared us, that’s all.”

  “Don’t let me stop you, continue. I can wait until you all are done.” He didn’t take his eyes off Adeline as he said that, and for some reason, Adeline felt that there was a hidden meaning in those words.

  She turned to meet three sets of eyes, but as usual, it was Melanie who spoke. “Why don’t we get Riley caught up, and then Sunday can tell us all that is appropriate?”

  Sunday nodded, and Adeline escorted Riley back to the boardroom, the others following. “Before we get started, would you like something to drink?” Adeline offered as she moved to the small, apartment-size fridge and grabbed a few bottles of water.

  “Water is great.”

  She grabbed one for everyone and handed them out before taking her seat diagonal from Riley. “First, let me thank you for coming.”

  “It’s not a problem, what can I do for you guys?”

  “Well, what we are about to ask is out of the norm, but we are having trouble digging up information on a particular project that Greg is involved with. What I’m going to tell you needs to remain confidential, and we would like to keep Loren out of the loop until we have more information.”

  “I’m not okay with that.” Riley set his bottle down, ready to call this meeting over.