“Reed,” she warned, all but tapping her foot.
“Fine.” He stripped off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. “It turns out that Senator Kendrick was on a committee that awarded Ellias Technologies a lucrative government contract.”
Her green eyes narrowed. “And they think the senator gave you a heads up.”
“Exactly,” said Reed. “Are you happy now?”
“No. I am not happy now.”
He raised his palms in a gesture of defeat. “And that’s why I didn’t tell you. I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to worry.” Was that so hard for her to understand?
Her lips pursed in that mulish expression that he recognized so well. “I don’t need you protecting me.”
He moved closer, moderating his voice. “The doctor said you should stay calm.”
“How can I stay calm when my husband is lying to me?”
He hadn’t lied to her. He’d omitted a small amount of unnecessary information so that she wouldn’t get stressed out for no reason. “You’re being ridiculous,” he pointed out.
She pulled back. “Is that what you think?”
He could see her warming up for a whole new argument. Well, he wasn’t buying into that at one in the morning.
“What I think is that Collin is on the case,” he stated with conviction. “By next week, it’ll be a footnote in my life. And you have much more important things to think about right now.”
“Like the catering menu?” she repeated.
“Exactly. And your basal body temperature.” He attempted to lighten the mood. “And that little red negligee.”
“I do have a brain, you know, Reed.”
It was his turn to draw back. Where the hell had that come from? “Have I ever suggested you don’t?”
“I can help you solve problems.”
“I pay professionals to help me solve problems.” That way, he and Elizabeth could lead a calm, uncluttered life.
“That’s your answer?”
“That’s my answer.”
Elizabeth waited for him to say more, but he was happy to end on that note.
Reed was the last to arrive at the lunch meeting in the Wellington International boardroom. Gage, Collin, media mogul Trent Tanford and private investigator Selina Marin were already sitting around the polished table when he walked in.
“Did you get hold of Kendrick?” Gage asked without preamble.
Reed shook his head, shutting the door behind him before taking his place at the head of the oblong table. Fresh-brewed coffee had been placed on the sideboard, and a bank of windows overlooked the fall colors of the park many stories below. “His secretary says he’s in meetings in Washington all week.”
“He doesn’t have a cell phone?” asked Collin.
“He can’t be disturbed,” Reed quoted, letting his expression tell the room the excuse rang hollow to him. He’d never had a problem getting hold of Kendrick before. In fact, it was usually Kendrick who called him.
“We need his denial,” said Trent. “At least, we need him to publicly deny having given you insider information. And I’d prefer to have it on videotape.”
“You’ll have it,” said Reed, hoping it would be soon. It was in everyone’s best interest—including the senator’s—to have him on the record in this. In the absence of identifying the blackmailer, Kendrick’s backing was their best chance of stopping the investigation in its tracks.
“Did you get anywhere with the police?” Reed asked Selina.
“I had a chat with Detective Arnold McGray.” She slid a thick sheaf of paper across the table to Reed. “They’ve been surprisingly cooperative. Here’s the list of blackmail victims in the building.”
“The cops are at a dead end,” Collin put in. “They’re hoping the extra manpower will help.”
“Person power,” Selina put in.
“Sorry,” said Collin with an edge of sarcasm. “I keep forgetting you’re a girl.”
“Shall I start wearing pink ruffles?”
Reed contemplated Selina’s no-nonsense black blazer, white turtleneck, short cropped hair and minimal makeup. With those dark brows and that straight slant to her mouth, she’d look ridiculous in pink.
Reed sighed and picked up the letter, reading the names of Julia Prentice, who before her marriage to Max Rolland was blackmailed regarding her out-of-wedlock pregnancy, Trent Tanford for his relationship with murder victim Marie Endicott, and Prince Sebastian who’d also received a threatening letter.
In the prince’s case, the letter writer didn’t ask for any money, and it was eventually proven to be his ex-girlfriend. So, the Prince Sebastian incident didn’t seem to be related.
“Any connection between mine and the other two?” Reed asked Selina.
“Three different threats,” she answered. “Three unrelated incidents. Three untraceable Grand Cayman bank accounts.” Then she paused. “Same bank.”
Reed allowed himself a small smile. So, the three were likely related. That gave them a whole lot more information to go on.
“I’ll start looking for connections between the cases,” said Selina.
“Any guess as to why mine was ten million and the others were only one?” asked Reed.
Selina gave a wry twist of her lips. “Neither of the others paid up. Maybe expenses were mounting.”
“You bet your ass we didn’t pay up,” muttered Trent.
“You should be flattered,” Gage directed his comment to Reed. “The guy obviously thinks you’re solvent.”
“Flattered isn’t exactly how I’m feeling.” He didn’t need this crap in his life. His life was plenty complicated enough.
“What about Marie Endicott’s murder?” Collin brought up the topic they’d avoided so far.
“I don’t like speculating about that,” said Trent.
Neither did Reed. But ignoring the possibility that the murder was tied up in the blackmail scheme wouldn’t change the facts, and it wouldn’t reduce the danger.
“The police aren’t ready to call it a murder,” said Selina. “But that missing security tape makes my hair stand on end. And I think we have to operate on the assumption that they’re connected.”
“That’s a pretty big assumption,” said Collin.
“Yeah? Well, I’m preparing for the worst-case scenario.” Then she turned to Trent. “I wonder. Did the blackmailer commit murder to set you up? Or did he target you after learning of the murder?”
“My guess would be that he’s opportunistic,” said Trent. “After the murder, he set me up.”
“Generally,” said Selina, “there are two reasons for a murder. Passion or greed.”
“The blackmailer is definitely greedy,” said Reed. “And if he operated on passion, we’d probably have another dead body, not more blackmail letters. He’s got to be ticked off at us.”
“Fair point,” Collin put in.
“But we don’t know anything for sure,” said Trent.
Trent was right.