Last Tailored Suit

by Pierce, Nicolette

  They drove in silence to the restaurant. A valet dressed in a formal tux opened Jenna’s door, his eyes traveling merrily along her length as he held out his hand. She didn’t bother taking his hand. She could get out of the car by herself if her dress would stay down long enough. Greyson tossed the valet the keys, which he barely caught, distracted as he was. At least the valet didn’t run away from her. Although, now he could go away. Jenna stood and brushed past him, hurrying over to Greyson. Another formally dressed employee opened the restaurant door for them. Judging by the twinkling topiaries and mile-high wine rack, it was going to be a menu she couldn’t afford.

  Heck, at this point, she couldn’t afford the local taco stand.

  Greyson averted his eyes every time she looked over at him. It wasn’t until they were being led to their table that he placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her through as if there could be a potential catastrophe along the way.

  When he pulled out the chair for her to sit, she nearly laughed out of astonishment.

  He proceeded to take the seat across from her and snapped up the leather bound menu, shielding himself.

  “Greyson,” Jenna said softly.

  “Hmm?” The menu was still in place.

  “Greyson,” she said again.

  The menu lowered so his eyes peered over. “What?”

  “I can’t afford anything here.”

  “How do you know? The prices aren’t listed.”

  “Exactly. It means the prices are so high I can’t afford it.”

  “I’m buying,” he said, retreating again.

  “You can’t.”

  “I can.”

  “Then I’ll leave,” she stated.

  The menu snapped shut. “I asked you to dinner, so I’m buying.”

  “Technically, you didn’t ask.”

  “Fine. Then think of this as a business dinner.”

  “I guess that’d be acceptable,” she said thoughtfully. “What would you like to talk about? I can give you an overview of what I’ve done so far.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  “Then what would you care to discuss? Perhaps my ideas for staffing?”

  “No.”

  A stout server stopped at their table with a bottle of wine. “Would you care for a taste of this lovely red? It will go well with any meat or mushroom dish.”

  “Yes,” Greyson said, not bothering to look at the wine. “And leave the bottle on the table.”

  The man smiled and poured two glasses, setting the bottle on the table. “I’ll be back in a moment to take your order unless you’ve already decided.”

  “Do you have just a side salad?” Jenna asked.

  Before the server could answer, Greyson rattled off French-sounding words. The server nodded and took the menus before bustling away.

  “What just happened?” Jenna asked.

  “I ordered.”

  “What if I don’t like what you ordered?”

  “Then you can order something else.”

  “What did you order?”

  Greyson’s fingers curled around his wine glass. He brought it to his lips with a sigh. After a long, steady sip he set the glass back down.

  “Tell me about Adam,” he said, changing the subject.

  “He’s a couple of years younger than I am, but much taller,” Jenna said.

  “Almost everyone is.”

  Jenna glared. “What’s going on? You were in a good mood before, and now you’re acting like a bear.”

  Greyson’s fingers played with the wine glass. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”

  “Did I do something?”

  “You always do something.”

  “Greyson!”

  “Did you just kick me?”

  “Gee. Something must have happened.”

  “It still didn’t hurt.”

  Jenna crossed her arms.

  “I’m sorry,” Greyson said, laughter in his voice. “I was a bit out of sorts.”

  “A bit?”

  “A lot. Tell me about Adam. What was he interested in? Sports?”

  Jenna uncrossed her arms. “Music. He played guitar and sang.”

  “Was he in a band?”

  Jenna shook her head. “He had tried, but I think he preferred being a solo artist. He was really good.”

  “How good?”

  Jenna smiled. “You can’t ask me that. I’m biased.”

  “I’m not. I can tell you that my brothers are horrible. They can’t carry a tune to save their lives.”

  “And you?”

  Greyson grinned. “Perfectly wretched.”

  Jenna laughed. “And very honest.”

  He shrugged. “No one is good at everything.”

  “True. I’m, as you say, perfectly wretched as well. My brother, however, could carry a tune. I was just listening to one of his songs earlier.”

  “You were? How?”

  “He has music on his website. I checked to see if his page was still up.”

  Greyson’s brow wrinkled. “How long has he been missing?”

  “A little over a year. I thought for sure the page would’ve been taken down by now. I’m so glad it wasn’t. Hearing his voice again felt good.”

  “What’s the web address?”

  “Newman music dot com.”

  Greyson took out his phone and typed in the address.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “I’m wondering who the service provider is.”

  “I don’t know. But I keep thinking about what Frankie had said.”

  “What did he say?” Greyson asked, scrolling the screen with his finger.

  “That normally you have to renew your domain every year. How can Adam’s website still be active if that’s the case? The police have been monitoring his credit cards. He hasn’t used them.”

  “Someone could have paid on his behalf.”

  “Wouldn’t the police have noticed?”

  “Not if they’re only tracking his credit cards.” Greyson brought the phone to his ear. “Hey, David, can you find out who’s paying for Newman music dot com?”

  Jenna shifted in her seat. Both fear and giddiness were swirling inside. Someone had to know something. If David could give them a name, she could at least begin searching. It was a lead. And she’d take whatever lead she was given. When Greyson ended the call, she wanted to hop over the table to hug him. She was so thankful to have him on her side, no matter how baffling he could be at times.

  “David will call back,” Greyson said, stowing the phone in his pocket. “Do you know of anyone that would’ve paid for his website?”

  “I would.”

  “Besides you.”

  “The only person I can think of is his old girlfriend, but she told the police they had broken up months before his disappearance.”

  “Do you think she’s lying?”

  “I didn’t at the time. Now I’m not so sure.”

  The server swept in and slid a plate in front of her first and then Greyson. He topped off the wine glasses and asked if there was anything else he could do. Greyson’s airy wave effectively sent the server away.

  Jenna casually inspected her plate, which contained fancily arranged steak, veggies, and potato medallions. The savory scent made her mouth water, and the mushroom cream that was drizzled on top made her want to forgo the niceties of table manners.

  But she wouldn’t.

  Jenna draped the napkin over her lap, looking over to find Greyson had ordered the same thing. She took a bite and tried to concentrate on the delicious flavor that was mingling on her tongue, but her mind drifted to Adam.

  “Is there something wrong with the food?” Greyson asked.

  Jenna quickly smoothed her pinched brow and shook her head. “No. It’s really good. Thank you.”

  “Then why did you look like you smelled a dead skunk?”

  “I did not look anything of the sort. I just thought about Adam again. We were just talking abo
ut him, and I can’t seem to shake the feeling.”

  “What feeling?”

  “That he’s close and needs help.”

  “We already know he needs help. Just enjoy your food. I’m sure by the time we’re eating dessert, David will have information.”

  Greyson was right. She’d enjoy the moment while David investigated. It wasn’t every night that she was treated to an expensive meal in a fancy restaurant.

  “Dessert?” Jenna repeated, trying to keep the enthusiasm out of her voice. “I have more than plenty right here.”

  “I think you might change your mind.”

  “Why?”

  “This restaurant is known for its gelato. It’s made fresh every day. The sea-salt caramel receives rave reviews.”

  Jenna closed her mouth to keep from drooling. “You might be able to twist my arm.”

  “It’s not hard to do when I know your weakness,” he said with a grin.

  Jenna suspected that Greyson didn’t know he was becoming her weakness too. And it was going to stay that way. Heaven help her if he knew that little tidbit.

  Chapter 20

  Greyson was . . . uncomfortable, to say the least. There were many visions that came to mind as Jenna spooned the sea-salt caramel gelato into her satisfied mouth. It was the last vision, however, of her licking the remnants off the spoon before sitting back with a dreamy look that made him almost lose it. He nearly fled the restaurant.

  Greyson motioned for the check and paid without looking at it.

  How was he going to sleep in the same room with Jenna and not climb into bed with her?

  He was an idiot! A complete idiot to think he was strong enough to stay in the same room and resist her, especially after telling himself that he couldn’t have her. He was leaving, for God’s sake! She wasn’t the type of woman that he could just take to bed and forget.

  There was no way he’d forget her, regardless.

  When they were almost home, Greyson searched for a reason to stay out just a little longer. He even considered finding the spotlight so that he could garden in the dark. So when David called, informing him that there was a lead on Adam’s website, he spun the car around and headed back to town.

  “I can’t believe Tania paid for the website after telling everyone she had no idea where Adam was,” Jenna fumed after David disconnected.

  “Could she have paid out of sympathy?”

  “Please. She doesn’t have an ounce of sympathy in her.”

  “Are you sure you want to talk to her?” Greyson asked, trying to be considerate yet hoping she’d say yes. Even a tense conversation would be better than going home. He never thought he was a chicken, but for once in his life, he was terrified of a woman . . . actually of himself with her.

  “I want to talk to her. I’m so mad!” Jenna’s foot tapped rapidly. “And Adam as well! How could he do this and not tell me?”

  Greyson stopped himself before he reached over and patted her leg. “We don’t know the whole story yet. She might not know where he is.”

  “Oh, she does! The witch!”

  “I take it you know her pretty well.”

  “I know she’s a liar.”

  Greyson nodded.

  “She is!” Jenna stated. “When I get my hands on her, I’ll . . .”

  “You’ll?” Greyson prompted.

  Jenna sighed. “I don’t know.”

  This time, Greyson did pat her on the knee, quickly returning his hand to the steering wheel. “We’ll figure it out when we get to her place. Hopefully David’s information is correct and we can answer some of your questions.”

  “Could he be wrong?”

  “David? No. He’s normally spot-on, which means we should be to her place in less than a mile.”

  Jenna’s hands clenched at her side.

  Greyson turned down a side road that led to an apartment complex. It was made up of older brick buildings without any added landscaping to brighten the stodgy square mass.

  “Do you see apartment number five?” Greyson asked, surveying the door numbers that were all facing the parking lot, connected by cement walkways and staircases.

  “First floor on the right,” Jenna said, pointing to the corner apartment.

  Greyson parked in a spot closest to the door. “Are you ready?”

  “More than ready,” Jenna gritted and pushed the door open.

  Greyson followed as she stalked down the walkway and over to the door with a crooked five hanging on for dear life. Jenna banged on the door as if she were the authorities searching for a wanted criminal. He was tempted to hold her back in case she decided to throw her shoulder into it. He wouldn’t be surprised if she did.

  The lights were on, but no one answered Jenna’s obnoxious pounding. Greyson, thinking that Jenna’s hand had to be bruised, blocked her from continuing.

  “I know she’s in there,” Jenna said.

  “Would you want to answer the door when a crazy person is beating it to death?”

  Jenna’s brow pinched. “I’m not crazy.”

  “Can we try it my way?”

  “Go ahead.” Jenna waved her hand at the door. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  Greyson turned the doorknob and opened the door. “Much better.”

  Jenna’s jaw sagged. “She left her door unlocked? That was just luck.”

  Greyson shrugged. “It worked.” He peeked around the door and nudged it open a little wider. “Maybe she’s not home.”

  “What kind of person leaves without locking the door?”

  “The same kind of person that leaves without shutting off the lights.”

  “I don’t like this. Something doesn’t feel right.”

  “Tania?” Greyson called and stepped through the door. “Tania?”

  “Greyson, let’s call the cops,” Jenna squeaked, plastering herself behind him, no longer the riled woman beating down a door.

  He tried to focus on the room before him and not the woman flattened against him. It was an average rectangular apartment. There was a kitchen and a living room with a bathroom off to the side and a small hallway that he assumed led to the bedroom. The furniture was from two decades ago, and there was a small flat screen with an antenna. It made him suspect the resident didn’t have very much spending cash, especially to pay for a supposed dead man’s website.

  Adam had to be alive, and he must have given her money to pay on his behalf.

  Greyson lifted an empty stone ashtray from the battered coffee table and slowly walked toward the bedroom. Jenna was right. Something had happened.

  Jenna’s fingers curled into the back of his shirt as she peeked around. “Do you see anything?” she whispered.

  They neared the bedroom door that spilled light from the cracked opening. He listened before pushing it open.

  “Oh, no!” Jenna let go of Greyson. “The window is broken.”

  “Someone must have broken in.”

  “But who? And why didn’t they use the unlocked door?”

  “Maybe he was of the mindset that doors are rarely left unlocked anymore. I know of someone else like that.”

  “Very funny. Let’s get out of here and call the police.”

  Greyson was about ready to leave when a sound from the living room caught his attention. He shooed Jenna behind the door and pressed in beside her, shielding her as best as he could.

  Heavy footsteps grew near, and all he had was a damn ashtray to defend them with. The footsteps stopped and were followed by a cough.

  Greyson slowly turned to find Remy staring at him with an arched brow.

  “You nearly gave me a heart attack,” Greyson said. “What are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same thing. Did you break the window?”

  “No,” Jenna said, squeezing past Greyson. “The door was unlocked, and the window was broken when we got here.”

  “Who lives here?” Remy asked.

  “Tania. Adam’s ex-girlfriend. She paid for Adam’s we
bsite renewal. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

  Remy shook his head. “I’ve been following Sergio.”

  “Sergio was here?” Greyson asked.

  “Yeah. Saw his SUV pull in here and heard glass breaking moments later.”

  “Where is he now?”

  Remy looked down at his phone. “Looks like he’s heading home.”

  “With Tania?” Jenna asked.

  “Unless someone got to her first. If she paid for Adam’s website, you’re not the only one that’ll be looking for her.”

  “We need to get out of here,” Greyson said. “Who knows who else might show.”

  Jenna hurried out of the bedroom. “We need to follow Sergio.”

  “No.”

  “I’m going to find my brother. This has gone far enough! If this Sergio guy has any information, I want it.”

  “Not to rescue Tania?”

  Jenna snorted. “My idiot brother can rescue her after I rescue his dumb ass.”

  Greyson bit back a smile. “Instead of storming over to Sergio’s, why don’t we invite him over to our house?”

  “Invite him over? After he just abducted a woman?”

  “It’s a good idea,” Remy said.

  Jenna looked at both men as if they were addled.

  “We don’t know the layout of Sergio’s place and who his hired thugs are.” Remy shrugged. “Personally, I think he got here too late. Tania was already kidnapped by then.”

  “How can you know for sure?” Jenna asked.

  “I didn’t hear a scream. Sergio or his men may have broken the window, but there’s no sign of a struggle. No blood. And it was quick. Too quick. With the unlocked door, it’s almost as if she knew her attacker and let him in.”

  “Can you get a message to Sergio and tell him to meet me at my place?” Greyson asked Remy.

  “Why not just call him and ask for the information?” Jenna asked. “It’ll be quicker and safer.”

  “I don’t trust his people,” Remy said. “Let’s get him alone, away from ears.”

  “Make it happen,” Greyson said, turning to leave.

  “Why would he come to your place alone?” Jenna asked, following.

  “He might not want to,” Greyson said. “Remy can twist his arm if the need arises.”

  “Literally?” Jenna questioned, looking back at Remy who was close enough to hear.