“Would you like for us to join you?” Sophie asked, and before Regan could answer, she turned to her date and said, “Will you go find our name cards, please?”
He immediately turned around to do what she asked. She grabbed his arm. “Wait a minute. Take all of these name cards and put them somewhere else. I’m sure there are empty seats, and if there aren’t, ask the waiter to set up another table. I don’t want to sit with strangers tonight. Oh, and, Jeff? Find Cordie’s name too. She’ll want to sit with us.”
Regan leaned toward Alec and said, “Sophie and I have been friends since kindergarten, so I’m used to the way she bosses everyone around.”
Sophie heard the comment and laughed. “Everyone but you and Cordie. It is true, though. I do tend to be bossy, especially with Jeff. He’s my go-with guy.”
“Go with?” Alec asked.
“We’re just friends,” she explained. “But when I want or need a date for some function, Jeff goes with me, and I do the same for him. It’s a perfect arrangement when one or both of us is between relationships. Jeff was eager to come tonight, though, because of Regan.”
“Why’s that?” Alec asked.
“He’s had a thing for her for years,” she explained. “Shouldn’t we sit down?” She motioned to a waiter, who immediately hurried over. “Would you please remove these three place settings? Thank you,” she said as he began to gather up the silverware and the wineglasses. Sophie leaned around him to see Regan. “Cordie can sit next to Alec on his right, and you can sit on his left.”
“She is bossy,” Alec said.
Regan nodded. She was smiling until Sophie said, “Cordie’s right. You really should take off the blanket. It hides your beautiful dress.”
“It isn’t a blanket. It’s a wrap.”
“No need to sound so defensive.”
“I’m not being defensive,” she argued in a voice even she knew sounded extremely defensive. “I’m simply telling you it’s a wrap.”
“Okay,” Sophie said, and it was obvious that she was now trying to placate Regan. “And I’m simply suggesting to you that it’s time to unwrap the wrap. Speaking of dresses, do you like mine?”
“Very much. Is it new?” Regan’s tone was laced with suspicion.
“Sort of.”
“What does ‘ sort of’ mean?”
“I picked it up at the Chanel boutique a couple of weeks ago, but this is the first time I’ve worn it.”
“How did you pay for it? With your salary—”
Sophie stood. “I had a relapse. Okay?”
“Oh, Sophie . . .”
“I’m going to help Jeff find Cordie’s name card. He’s wandering around in circles. When I get back, don’t lecture me. I already feel guilty.”
Alec stood when Sophie did, but as soon as she walked away, he sat down again and put his arm on the back of Regan’s chair. The fringe from her wrap was draped over his hand, and when she shifted positions, his fingers brushed against her skin. She didn’t move away, and neither did he.
“What kind of relapse was she talking about?” he asked.
“Sophie asked Cordie and me to help her stop taking money from her father.”
“What’s the big deal? If he wants to give her money and she needs it . . .”
Regan turned to look at him. “But she doesn’t really need it. And she wants to be completely independent.” She sighed. “Sophie loves her father very much, and she’s extremely loyal to him.”
“In other words, she’s a typical daughter.”
She smiled. Nothing about Sophie or her father was typical. “Yes,” she said. “Recently she decided that it was up to her to try to rehabilitate him, and if that didn’t work, then she’s determined to get him to retire.”
Alec literally jerked back. “Ah, hell. Rose isn’t her middle name, is it? Man, I didn’t put it together. I should have, but I didn’t. She’s Bobby Rose’s daughter, isn’t she?”
“Yes, she is.”
He was stunned. The FBI had been trailing Bobby Rose for years, trying to get enough evidence to indict him. Bobby was considered by many to be the ultimate con artist, but because he only fleeced those men and women he considered to be bigger crooks than he was, the public had taken a real shine to him. High-stakes gamblers who had robbed their own companies and who had cleaned out their employees’ pensions and then hung them and their families out to dry were Bobby’s meat and potatoes. Bobby Rose loved targeting the greedy bastards, and that was all the more reason the public loved him. Unfortunately, the sad truth was that Bobby was never going to run out of marks.
Not only did the public adore him, other crooks looked up to Bobby as an idol. He was everything they hoped to become. Bobby lived somewhere in Florida, and in all the articles about him, there was never any mention of a family.
“Spencer told me that a lot of people think of Bobby Rose as a modern-day Robin Hood. He only steals from the rich—”
He interrupted her. “Yeah, well, he doesn’t give the money to the poor, now does he? He keeps it.”
Her back stiffened. “He does a lot of charitable work.”
He gave her a look that suggested he thought she was nuts. “He’s a criminal, Regan, and he should be behind bars.”
“It’s obvious you’ve made up your mind about him, and nothing I say will change your opinion, will it?” She sounded disgruntled.
“He’s a criminal,” he patiently repeated.
“If you’re going to be judgmental . . .”
He was incredulous. “Have you forgotten what I do for a living?”
She turned away from him and stared at the crowd of people searching for their tables. “I’m through discussing Sophie’s father with you.”
“Oh, we’ve only just gotten started.” He tugged on her wrap to make her look at him and asked, “Did you tell me Sophie works for a newspaper?”
It would have been petty not to answer. “Yes, she does. At her father’s insistence she uses her mother’s maiden name as her byline, but I think everyone at the paper knows who she is. Detective Wincott found out, and I assumed he told you.”
Wincott was probably having a real good laugh about now. “No, he didn’t tell me,” he said. “It must have slipped his mind. What was it like for Sophie growing up with Bobby Rose for a father?”
“He’s a very good father,” she said. “He never missed a parent-teacher conference, and he always went to the plays and the tennis matches. He did his share of car pooling too.”
“Were there parents who wouldn’t let their kids hang around Sophie?”
“Yes.”
“Did your family?”
“Forbid me to hang out with her? Sophie and Cordie and I had already become friends before Bobby Rose became so . . .”
“Notorious?”
“Famous,” she corrected. “My mother was busy socializing and traveling. My grandmother was in charge of me, and when she became ill, Aiden took over. I don’t think my grandmother knew who Sophie’s father was, but Aiden knew, and he didn’t tell her. My brother would never forbid me to be her friend. Sophie was always welcome in our home, but I wasn’t allowed to go to hers.” She smiled as she added, “I did, though, all the time.”
He was teasing when he asked, “Did you ever get down in her basement? No one knows where Bobby Rose hides all his money. Maybe it’s there.”
She put her hand down on top of his. “Alec, Sophie is my friend.”
He started to ask another question. She stopped him by squeezing his hand. “She’s my friend.”
Chapter Thirty-two
ALEC HATED BLACK-TIE AFFAIRS, AND HE DIDN’T PARTICULARLY like the country club scene either, but he didn’t mind wearing the tuxedo tonight because of Regan. There was something about her that was so compelling, so vibrant, and yet there was a vulnerability too he found utterly charming. Sophie told them a sad story about a young man she knew, and when she was finished, Regan had tears in her eyes.
“It had a
happy ending,” Sophie said.
Embarrassed by her tears, Regan dabbed at her eyes with her napkin and laughed. “I’m a crybaby.”
“That used to be her nickname,” Sophie said.
“When I found out what some of the kids were calling me, I cried,” she said. “But that was when I was in school. I got over it.”
“Regan wears her heart on her sleeve.”
Regan didn’t argue. She picked up her glass of Perrier and lime and took a sip.
Alec loved watching her expressions. She was so refreshingly different. What she was feeling was right there for anyone to see. She wasn’t a game player, and she wasn’t the least bit self-serving or self-involved. That, too, was a refreshing change from the other women he’d known.
Regan had a face that could grace the cover of a fashion magazine and an incredible body, but what he liked most about her was her loyalty to her friends. Well, maybe not most of all, he admitted. Her body was pretty damned great.
But she was still just a job. He had to remind himself of that fact every time he looked at that sweet mouth of hers.
Sophie excused herself to go search for her date. Alec sat down again, declined the wine the waiter was offering, and asked Regan, “Is that any good?” with a nod toward her nonalcoholic drink.
She handed the glass to him and watched him gulp it down. Smiling she said, “You were supposed to take a sip.”
“I never sip. If I’m gonna drink something, I don’t fool around,” he said. “And that pretty much defines my philosophy of life.”
“Don’t sip, gulp?” When he nodded, she laughed. “You belonged to a fraternity when you were in college, didn’t you?”
“Sure did,” he said. “I ate a lot of potato chips too.”
He put the empty glass down, ordered two more, one for Regan and one for himself, and then said, “Heads up.”
“Excuse me?”
“Aiden’s here.”
She was still smiling when she turned and watched her brother walk into the ballroom. He didn’t have a date, and he didn’t notice Regan, but then she was all but hidden in the back corner. She watched him walk toward the podium, where Daniel O’Donnell, the administrator of Parkdale Hospital, stood waiting for him.
Sophie also saw Aiden as she was making her way back to their table. She hurried to intercept him, said something that made him smile, then stretched up and kissed him on the cheek.
Spencer walked in a minute later with Cordie at his side. He, too, was smiling. Her brother looked relaxed, she thought. Sleep-deprived, but relaxed. Jet lag would, no doubt, catch up with him tomorrow.
“The man with Cordie . . .”
“Spencer, right?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“I see the family resemblance,” he said. “But I also recognized him from a newspaper photo Henry showed me. You and your brothers were at a dedication. Henry told me he was going to have the photo framed because it was rare for all of you to be together.”
She nodded. “That’s true. It seems the only time we get together is when there’s a funeral or a crisis.”
“A what?”
“A crisis.”
He leaned his elbows on the table and thought about what she’d just said.
Regan looked back at Spencer and said, “I should go say hello to my brother.”
“Two brothers are here,” he said.
She smiled. “Yes, but I’m only going to be nice to one of them.”
He smiled. “Spoken like a true sister.”
The knot in her wrap came undone, and when she pushed her chair back to stand, it fell to the floor.
He bolted to his feet. The dress showed off her attributes a little too well for his liking. No, that wasn’t exactly true. He liked looking at her. He just didn’t want anyone else to.
He was about to tell her to put the blanket back on when she turned to him. They stood just inches apart, her face upturned to his. If he moved so much as a couple of inches, his mouth would be on top of hers. He stopped himself in time. It wasn’t his place to tell her what she could or couldn’t wear, no matter how much it bothered him. If he tried that on one of his sisters, she’d laugh right in his face. Then she’d give him hell.
Regan wasn’t his sister, though. She’s a job, nothing more. Those words became a chant inside his head, and yet he was having trouble accepting it.
“Alec? You were saying?”
“Stay in the room,” he said gruffly. “I’ll be watching, but stay in the room.”
“Yes, of course.”
Cordie was bringing Spencer to Regan. She met them halfway across the ballroom, hugged her brother, and welcomed him home.
Alec watched the reunion as he pulled out his cell phone. He dialed Wincott’s cell number. The detective answered on the second ring.
Alec didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “Check out the brothers.”
“The ball that boring, huh?”
“I mean it. Check them out.”
“We already have,” he said. “And you’re not supposed to have any involvement in the investigation.”
It was almost impossible for Alec to back off. He didn’t want to jeopardize Wincott’s future with the department, and he knew that if Lewis found out he was doing anything more than guarding Regan, he would make Wincott’s life miserable.
“So what are you thinking?” Wincott asked.
“Maybe this guy is after the whole family, or maybe he’s using Regan to get all the brothers back in Chicago. I know you’ve checked them out, but go deeper. There might be something there.”
“Okay,” he said. “We’ll dig deeper.”
“Look, I know you’re overworked and understaffed. I’ll call Gil and ask him to check out a couple of things.”
“So you’re not involved, but you are?”
“I really want to follow up on a hunch.”
“That’s fine with me . . . if Gil doesn’t mind.”
“Did anything come up on Regan?”
“Since you asked this morning? No. The people she turned down for grants were the only ones who had a grudge. Although, there were a couple of nutcases—you know, people who wanted money for weird inventions—but they checked out okay. Weird, but okay,” he said. “I already told you we’re looking at Peter Morris,” he added. “Her friends checked out too. I guess by now you’ve figured out who Sophie Rose’s father is.”
“Thanks for telling me.”
Wincott laughed. “I almost fell off the chair when I found out. It doesn’t appear to make any difference to Regan or her brothers. They don’t blame the daughter for the sins of her father.”
“That’s the way it should be.”
“We’ve ruled Bobby Rose out. I’m getting another call.”
Alec flipped the phone closed and put it back in his pocket. He stood with his back to the wall, his arms folded across his chest, watching the crowd.
Aiden had joined his brother and sister. Cordie seemed to be the only one interested in what he had to say. No, interested wasn’t the right description, Alec thought. She looked enthralled. Regan, on the other hand, looked furious. Aiden was still talking when she shook her head, turned, and walked back to their table. Several men tried to engage her in conversation, but other than smiling at each one, she paid them no attention and continued on.
Alec pulled the chair out for her, but she didn’t sit. She stood next to him and stared at the entrance.
Cordie had followed Regan, and she smiled when Alec pulled her chair out for her. “Who are you looking for?” she asked Regan as she placed the napkin on her lap. She turned around to see who Regan was watching, and then said, “Oh, I see.”
“See what?” Alec asked.
“Mr. and Mrs. Sleazebag just walked in,” Cordie said.
Alec didn’t comment, but he did track the couple as they made their way around the tables to get to their seats. Emerson’s face was red, no doubt from alcohol, Alec thought. His wife was adjusti
ng her bodice and fluffing her long platinum hair. An interesting couple, he decided, and he wondered what Wincott had found out about them.
Sophie and Jeff returned to the table, and Sophie craned her neck so she, too, could watch the couple. When they had taken their seats, she turned to Regan and said, “The whole family’s here. Isn’t that lovely?”
“Just super.”
“Walker isn’t here,” Cordie pointed out.
“I was being sarcastic,” Sophie said. She told Regan and Alec to sit down, for heaven’s sake, and then added, “Aiden had no right to invite Emerson. He knows how Regan feels about him. I think it was terribly disloyal of him, and I told him so.”
Cordie immediately rushed to Aiden’s defense. “You can’t know if he invited him or not.”
“Of course I can know,” Sophie countered. “Aiden told me he invited him,” she rushed to add when Cordie looked as if she was going to argue.
“What did he say when you called him disloyal?” Cordie asked.
“He said it was cheaper than a lawsuit and for me to behave myself tonight,” Sophie said. “He still treats me like I’m a ten-year-old.”
Waiters appeared with the first course. The conversation turned to lighter topics during dinner, and Regan was thankful for that. Jeff told several humorous stories about a tennis competition he’d entered, and Regan tried to look interested. She wasn’t hungry. Seeing Emerson had destroyed her appetite, but no one seemed to notice she was moving the food around her plate.
After dinner, but before the dancing began, Daniel O’Donnell stepped up to the podium and tapped on the microphone to get everyone’s attention.
“Please tell me there aren’t going to be a dozen or so boring speakers,” Cordie said.
“Just one boring speaker,” Regan replied.
“For a thousand dollars a plate, we shouldn’t have to listen to anyone,” Sophie said.
“Hush,” Cordie whispered. “People can hear you.”
A moment later, after the administrator had thanked everyone for attending, he introduced Regan. Cordie and Sophie both laughed.
“Keep it short and sweet,” Sophie said.
“As opposed to long and boring?” Regan teased.
The Murder List Page 25
