Gerard had no choice but to let her go, but being the man he was, he couldn’t resist a parting shot. His voice was low and silky when he whispered in her ear, “I’ll get you in bed, Harley. Trust me.”
She bit her tongue and made her escape. Stepping into Stuart’s arms, she let him steer her into a dance, his grandson’s threat still echoing in her head.
“So you wanted to talk about my work, young lady?”
Between the question in his voice and the dubiously arched brow, Harley got the impression he didn’t believe her. She decided to be up-front. “To be honest, sir, I wanted to get away from your grandson. I see him all week at work. I need a break on the weekends.”
“My good fortune then. After meeting you, I’d hoped we’d get the opportunity to chat.”
“Really, sir? Why?”
“I’ve heard a great deal about you.”
“I do hope you’ve heard more than your grandson’s opinion. If not, I’m sunk.”
Stuart might have been old, really old if she was to guess, but his strong features had weathered the time well. When he smiled, she recognized his grandson in his expression and suspected that one day Gerard would look a lot like this man.
“I have,” he said. “In fact, that’s why I wanted to talk. I like to form my own opinions and the only thing my grandson has said is that you’re a very good investigator. He told me he’s been learning a great deal.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He sounded decided, and Harley liked that he was playing as straight with her as she was with him. “But I suspect that you’re not sure whether to believe me, Ms. Price.”
“Call me Harley, please.”
He inclined his head. “If you’ll call me Stuart.”
“Okay, Stuart. What makes you think I’m not sure?”
“I spent my entire adult life prosecuting criminals. That constitutes a lot of years. I pride myself on having become rather an expert at reading people.”
“That’s a handy skill in my line of work, too. And I don’t question you at all,” she assured him. “I’m reassessing the situation. If that’s all your grandson has said and you still need to formulate an opinion, maybe it’s everyone else’s opinions I should be worried about.”
“Not at all, young lady. Although I must tell you I’m fascinated by the stories. I’ve always found my grandson easy to get along with and, to my knowledge, he hasn’t had problems on the job in the past.”
“Oh, I’m sure he hasn’t. He’s the poster child of patience and ability. I’m the rogue element here.”
“Touché.” Stuart laughed. “I’m biased where Mackenzie is concerned. He’s my late wife’s namesake—Julia Mackenzie Gerard. As I’m so fond of him, I do hope you’ll forgive me. But in order to correct my mistake, I’ll need your take on the stories.”
“They’re nothing more than urban legends,” she said dryly. “Your grandson and I get along fine. Not to worry.”
Stuart shot a glance toward the grandson in question and his matchmaking dance partner. “I’m not worried at all. I believe my grandson may have finally met his match.”
Gerard’s threat echoed in her memory. I’ll get you in bed, Harley. Trust me.
The man had met his match. She just hoped he was as smart as his grandfather to realize it.
2
MAC HAD NO APPOINTMENTS scheduled this morning, but when he arrived at work shortly before nine, Melissa, Eastman Investigations’s office manager, tipped the phone receiver fastened to her head and mouthed, “Your grandfather’s here.”
“In my office?” he asked, surprised.
She shook her head. “Josh’s office, and Harley’s with them. They told me to send you in when you got here.”
Mac strode through the reception area and down the hallway. After knocking on his boss’s door, he found Josh seated behind his desk, his grandfather in front and Harley half sitting on the side, contemplating him stoically.
She was back in black today, the narrow-legged slacks and blazer drawing his attention to the way her body stretched away from the desk, all graceful lines and sleek curves.
He nodded in greeting, then slipped a hand over his grandfather’s shoulder. “What’s going on?”
His grandfather glanced up with a somber expression. “Good morning, Mackenzie. I’ve been explaining to Josh and Harley that I seem to have a thief loose in my house.”
Mac sat down beside his grandfather, frowning. The house in question was the house he’d been reared in, a Garden District mansion where both his grandfather and parents still lived.
“What’s missing?”
“Your grandmother’s wedding rings.”
“No chance they were accidentally moved or misplaced?”
His grandfather shook his head. “You know I never move them. I suppose I should keep them in the safe, but…” He trailed off and shrugged.
Mac knew those rings stayed inside his grandmother’s jewelry box on her dresser, where his grandfather could look at them whenever he wanted a reminder of the woman he’d loved for most of his life, and had so recently lost.
“Grandmother’s jewelry should be safe in the house. What did you do after noticing the rings missing?”
“Took a thorough inventory of everything of value I don’t lock up and asked your parents to do the same. All their things are accounted for, but I’m missing my father’s pocket watch and your grandmother’s pearls.”
“You keep the pocket watch in your armoire?”
His grandfather nodded.
“So you’re missing several items from various places. Narrows down the suspect list.” He thought of the few employees who had access to his grandfather’s private apartment. “Have you reported the thefts to the police yet?”
“Apparently there’s a problem with that,” Josh said, and Mac guessed by his tone that he wasn’t happy with this problem, whatever it was. “That’s what we were just discussing.”
After so many years as a district attorney, his grandfather knew enough people in the police department that an investigation should have happened immediately. “What’s up?”
“As I was telling Harley and Josh, once I discovered these pieces missing, I wrote a list of everyone with access to the house. Seemed to be a safe place to start.” He gave a wan smile. “As I’m sure you’re aware, Mackenzie, that list is small. James and Pearl have been with me for years and I trust them implicitly, which leaves me with the cleaning and lawn-maintenance services. As the lawn-maintenance people don’t usually come inside…”
“You’re left with the cleaning service.”
“Right. But I’ve used the same service since your grandmother hired them nearly sixty years ago. You can understand I’m wary about making accusations without proof.”
Mac understood his grandfather’s concern and agreed with his assessment of the house staff’s trustworthiness. Pearl had been stuffing the family full of her Deep South specialties for as long as he could remember and James had spent nearly twenty years trying to direct Mac and his siblings’ activities outside of the house, where the aftereffects were less noticeable.
“I know Mrs. Noralee’s daughter