“So what? That’s not against the law, is it?”
“No.”
“I’m trying to make her see that things have changed.”
“How have they changed?”
“A major gallery here in the city has picked me up. They love me, man. I’m going to have my first really important show in a few months. I’m on my way. I always knew that it was just a matter of time before I got my big break.”
“Leandra is seeing someone else now.”
Anger leaped in Dillon’s eyes. His hand closed into a fist. “That old coot Turner? He could be her father, man.”
Mack winced. The old coot, he reflected, was only two or three years older than himself. “I don’t think Turner is ready for a nursing home.”
“Well, he’s too old for Leandra, that’s for sure. Can’t figure out what the hell she sees in him.”
“I’m told he’s a nice guy,” Mack said.
“I don’t give a damn how nice he is. He’s got no business hanging around my wife.”
“Ex-wife,” Mack said gently.
“She’s my wife, damn it.” Dillon surged to his feet. He grabbed the paint-drenched brush he’d had in his hand when he opened the door and slashed it across an unfinished canvas. “I love her, man.”
Mack looked at the canvas. The brush had left a bright crimson splash of red paint in the center. It looked a lot like blood.
He told her he wanted to take a stroll before dinner. They walked up the hill, following a sidewalk that bordered a narrow curving street. Twilight was bearing down on the bay behind them. Mack wanted to see the house on Via Palatine before the sun disappeared altogether. Houses looked different at different times of the day. Maybe this one wouldn’t look quite so right at twilight.
“Well?” Cady asked. “What do you think about Dillon?”
“I’m not sure. He’s an artist who’s convinced that he’s on the brink of being discovered. He’s a man who doesn’t like the fact that his ex is seeing another man.”
“We already knew that much.”
“Sometimes it’s very hard to pick out the bad guys. A lot of them are very good at blending in with the scenery.”
“But do you think he’s potentially dangerous?”
Mack thought about the hurled paintbrush and the bloodred splash on the unfinished picture. “Maybe.”
Cady came to a sudden halt. “Really?”
“I can’t say for sure. I’m not a shrink. We should watch him, though. Let me know if he shows up here in Phantom Point.”
She did not appear satisfied but she must have realized there wasn’t much else that could be done at that moment. “All right. Thanks for checking on him.”
“Sure. I’ll just add it to the bill.”
She shot him an irritated glance and then turned to survey the street. “Where are we going, anyway?”
“There’s a house not far from here. Thought I’d see what it looked like at this time of day.”
Her lips parted on another question but to his surprise, she did not ask it. Instead she walked beside him without a word to the end of the street where the house with the gracefully arched doorways perched on the hillside overlooking the bay.
They came to a halt and watched the last rays of the setting sun turn the walls of the little villa to a mellow gold.
“It’s beautiful,” Cady whispered.
He had been right, he thought. The house and the woman looked very good together at this time of day. He had been pretty sure they would.
Twenty-two
Randall’s invitation to lunch caught Cady by surprise the following day. He appeared shortly before noon just as she was leaving the little gallery on Via Appia.
“I need to talk to you, Cady.”
She sensed the urgency in him and resigned herself to the inevitable. “Leandra, would you please call Mack and tell him that I won’t be home for lunch?”
“No problem.” Leandra reached for the phone.
Mack wouldn’t miss her, Cady thought as she walked into the yacht club restaurant. He had been holed up in the study all morning with his computer and the telephone. She knew that he was working with Ambrose to dig deeper into Jonathan Arden’s background.
She slid into a booth across from Randall and glanced casually around. The tables were filled with a trendy crowd. The view of the bay, dotted with colorful sailboats, was spectacular today.
She turned her attention back to Randall, studying him as he dealt with the waiter. She tried to be objective. He had his faults but it was impossible to think of him as the perpetrator of a major fraud scam that had involved murder. She had married the man. Sure, the marriage had ended before the honeymoon was over, but she couldn’t have been that wrong about him.
Then again, she had not understood the depth of his feelings for Brooke until it was too late, she reminded herself. Maybe there were other things hidden behind the locked doors of his soul that she did not know. Everyone had some secrets.
The problem with men was that they were not nearly so easy to read as a piece of sixteenth-century armor or a two-hundred-year-old ewer.
The waiter vanished with the orders. Randall smiled briefly.
“Like old times,” he said. He started to fiddle with his knife.
“Not quite.” She looked at him across the table. “What’s this all about?”
“I wanted to see you. Alone. Without Easton hovering around like some kind of bodyguard. What’s so strange about that?”
“I hadn’t noticed him hovering.”
Randall’s mouth twisted. “The guy’s living in the same house with you, for crying out loud. You don’t call that hovering?”
She cleared her throat. “Well, we are planning to get engaged.”
“So you said. Mind telling me what you see in him?”
“Yes, I do mind. I didn’t come here to discuss my relationship with Mack. You said you wanted to talk to me. So, talk.”
His jaw tightened. “Your relationship with Easton is one of the things we need to discuss.”
“Is that so? Why?”
“Because if you’re serious about marrying him, he’s going to have a stake in the new Chatelaine-Post, that’s why.” Randall gripped the knife very tightly. “Cady, are you sure the guy is for real?”
She smiled in spite of her mood. “It doesn’t get any more real than Mack Easton.”
“Are you certain that he didn’t latch onto you because of Chatelaine’s?”
“Randall—”
“You’ve got to admit that this is all kind of sudden. You never mentioned that you were seeing anyone seriously until after the funeral.”
“You and I haven’t talked that much since the divorce.”
“Maybe not, but I keep in close touch with your family. I talk to Sylvia and Leandra regularly. They didn’t know anything about Easton until after the funeral either.” Randall put the knife down slowly. “I’m not the only one who’s worried about your relationship with him.”
“My relationship with Mack Easton is none of your business,” she said. But she said it gently. “Look, I know you’re concerned about me, but there’s no need to worry. I know what I’m doing.”
“You’re sure of that?”
She shrugged. “As sure as anyone can be. What about you? Seeing anyone?”
He shook his head once. “Too busy with the merger.”
“Leandra says you haven’t seen anyone seriously since the divorce.” Impulsively she reached across the table and briefly touched his hand. “Are you going to put your life on hold forever because of Brooke?”
His expression grew suddenly intent. “Not forever.”
“That sounds cryptic.”
Randall fixed her with a very steady gaze. “Things will be different after the merger goes through.”
“You think so?”
“Yes,” Randall said coldly. “They will be very, very different.”
A chill whispered down her spine. “Why woul
d things change between you and Brooke if Chatelaine’s and Austrey-Post merge?”
“Have you read the merger proposal?”
“I scanned it briefly. I can’t say that I’ve studied it. Sylvia is much better than I am when it comes to analyzing that kind of stuff. Why?”
Randall’s face grew taut. “Because the merger reshuffles the cards. After it takes place, it will be a whole new game.”
“What do you mean?”
“The board of directors gets restructured under the terms of the agreement. Voting shares will be distributed differently, too. It’s complicated.” He waved a hand slightly in a dismissing motion. “It would take too long to explain it here. But take my word for it, after the merger, if two or three people who hold large blocks of shares form an alliance, they will be able to control who sits in the CEO’s chair.”
A shock of comprehension shot through her. “That’s why you’re so eager for the merger, isn’t it? You see it as a way to break Stanford’s hold on Austrey-Post.”
“You’re damn right, I do.” Grim anticipation blazed in Randall’s eyes. “The sonofabitch will no longer be able to call the shots. Once Stanford realizes that he won’t be running things, he’ll listen to my offer to buy him out.”
“I get the picture.”
“Do you? Do you really see what’s involved here? This is the first chance I’ve had to gain control of Austrey-Post since Mom died. I’m not going to let anything stand in the way. You’ve got to help me.”
“What do you want from me?”
He leaned forward and folded his arms on the table. “I want you to promise me that you’ll vote for the merger.”
He was practically vibrating, she realized. The tension in him set off alarms deep inside her. She held her silence while the waiter put the breadbasket and a small bowl of fragrant olive oil on the table. Then she took a deep breath.
“Okay, I understand why the merger is important to you. Tell me why Stanford wants it.”
Randall exhaled, a quick, harsh sound of disgust. “Why do you think he wants it? He sees it as a way to increase his income and his clout. A merger will open up new possibilities for expansion. Higher volumes. It will attract larger, more important consignments.”
“But he’ll have to contend with a board of directors that he can’t dominate.”
Randall nodded, looking satisfied. “He assumes that he will be able to control the new company because he thinks that after the merger I’ll continue to take orders from him, the way I always have. And it’s true that with our voting shares combined, we would have a lot of power on a Chatelaine-Post board.”
“Stanford is going on the assumption that he can control your shares?”
“He’s going on the assumption that he can control me. And why shouldn’t he think that I’ll continue to do what he tells me to do after the merger? I’ve got a long track record of taking his orders, don’t I?”
“But things are going to be different in the brave new world of Chatelaine-Post?”
“Oh, yes,” Randall said softly. “Very different.”
“I see.”
“I’ve been waiting for this opportunity for years. You know that, Cady. You’ve got to support the merger. This isn’t just my chance to get rid of Stanford. Everything is riding on the deal.”
“Define everything.”
Randall glanced around the restaurant and then lowered his voice. “George Langworth is dying. It’s no secret that he hasn’t got much time left. Brooke has nursed him faithfully. She’s done her duty as a wife. But when he’s gone, she’ll be free. I’m going to ask her to marry me.”
Cady sat very still. “What does the merger have to do with your plans to ask Brooke to marry you?”
“George has given her a great deal. She’ll be a wealthy woman when he dies. I can’t go to her empty-handed. I don’t want anyone to say that I’m marrying her for her money.”
“Oh, brother. I think I see where this is going—”
“When I get rid of Stanford, I will control his shares. I’m going to give them to Brooke as a wedding gift.”
Mack held the phone to one ear while he studied the screen full of data arrayed before him. “Okay, I’ve got it. Looks like bank account information, all right. You’re a genius, Ambrose.”
“Nah, I’m a consultant.” Ambrose made happy little humming sounds on the other end of the line. “I just sent through the rest of the data. Anything else you want while I’m fooling around with this financial stuff?”
“That will do for now. I’ll get back in touch if I need more.”
“Anytime. You got a printer on that end?”
“Yes.”
“So, like when do you think you might have another job for me?”
“As a matter of fact, I wanted to talk to you about taking an in-depth look at my program. See if you can figure out ways to expand its capabilities and maybe fill in some of the holes in my database. This business with Arden has brought to light some very big gaps. It would be a long-term project. Interested?”
“I’m already on it, boss.”
Mack hung up the phone and sent a file of data to the printer. When the machine kicked into action, he leaned back in his chair, put his fingertips together and thought about the next step. He could analyze financial information up to a point, but he was not a trained accountant. He needed an expert to help him decode Arden’s bank transactions. Preferably someone who was already tuned into the situation.
Luckily, the ideal candidate for the job was coming to dinner.
Gardner frowned at the stack of printouts. “I’m not a forensic accountant. That’s a specialty field.”
“If you can’t get anything out of these, so be it,” Mack said. “But I’m betting that your inside knowledge of the Chatelaine-Post deal gives you an edge that an outside accountant wouldn’t have.”
“Maybe.” Gardner examined the printouts warily. “But no guarantees.”
“Understood,” Mack said.
Cady put one hand on the stack. “Just take a look at them. That’s all we’re asking.”
“I’ll do my best. But don’t count on any brilliant revelations. I’m a CPA, not Sherlock Holmes.”
“I still can’t believe that Aunt Vesta was running her own private little sting operation.” Sylvia stood up suddenly and began to pace the living room. “But it does explain some of her strange behavior during the last couple of months. Why didn’t she tell me what she suspected?”
“As far as we can figure out, she didn’t tell anyone except Hattie Woods; and the only reason she confided in Hattie was because she needed her help,” Cady said.
“Well, we all know that Vesta was nothing if not secretive and eccentric.” Sylvia shot Cady an angry look. “But that’s no excuse for you not telling us that you thought something was terribly wrong.”
“Maybe not,” Cady admitted. “But until we stumbled onto Hattie Woods, I didn’t have anything to back up my concerns. I was afraid everyone would conclude that I was off my rocker. I didn’t think my theories would be welcome.”
“I can’t say that this one is particularly welcome,” Sylvia muttered. “But given the evidence, we’re going to have to deal with it. You’re sure that Jonathan Arden is working with someone inside Austrey-Post?”
“We’re not positive, but it sure looks like Aunt Vesta was certain of it,” Cady said. “In fact, she may have wondered if the problem went all the way to the top. It would explain why she didn’t go straight to Stanford Felgrove with her suspicions. It also explains why she postponed the merger vote.”
Sylvia frowned. “She thought Felgrove was working with Arden?”
“Or maybe she figured the inside contact was Randall,” Gardner offered a little too helpfully. “That would explain why she kept quiet. She always had a blind spot where he was concerned. She would have been very hesitant to implicate him.”
Mack winced and shook his head at Gardner in silent warning. But it was too lat
e. Cady and Sylvia had already turned on him.
“I refuse to believe that Randall knows anything about this,” Sylvia snapped.
Gardner’s expression hardened. “Don’t count on good old Uncle Randall being an innocent bystander.”
“I’m with Sylvia on this,” Cady said quietly. “Randall knows nothing about the forgeries.”
“Neither of you can see clearly where Randall Post is concerned. I know it’s hard to envision an old childhood friend as a criminal, but that doesn’t mean he’s not guilty.” Gardner looked at Mack for backup.
Mack shrugged. “I don’t think we can rule Post out. Not yet, at any rate.”
It was his turn to be on the receiving end of two quelling stares.
“Let’s try some logic here.” Cady stopped beside the desk and tapped the stack of printouts. “Randall is one-hundred-percent focused on the merger. It’s very, very important to him. Trust me on this. I honestly don’t think he would bother to expend a lot of time and energy on an elaborate forgery scam that would put his plans to link Chatelaine’s and Austrey-Post at risk.”
“That leaves Stanford,” Sylvia snapped. “I can’t say I like the man but I have to admit that the same logic applies. Why would he take the risk of running forgeries and frauds through Austrey-Post at a time when we’re taking a close look at his books?”
Gardener interrupted. “I can give you one good reason why either Randall or Stanford might have resorted to running frauds through Austrey-Post.”
“What reason?” Cady asked instantly.
“To cover up a cash flow problem that might have made us call off the merger,” Gardner said.
There was a short, brittle silence. Cady and Sylvia exchanged glances.
“Good point,” Sylvia said. She gestured impatiently. “I’m the hot-shot CEO around here. I should have thought of that myself.”
“You’re a little too emotionally involved with the situation,” Gardner said. “Hard to get a clear take on it when you’re dealing with everything from Vesta’s estate to the possibility that your old friend Randall Post is a crook. Not to mention the merger itself.”