Scared Money (Savannah Martin Mysteries Book 13) Page 6

  “She recognized you, I’m sure.”

  His mouth twisted. “Oh, yeah. And knew why I was asking. The other doc thought I was there on official business. I made as if I’d known she was pregnant all along, and we’d been waiting all this time to find out about the daddy. But Seaver knew immediately. I could see it in her eyes.”

  No doubt. I knew that expression. Sly and knowing and a little amused. “Did she say anything to you?”

  “Just that Carmen hadn’t told her anything about who the baby’s father might be.”

  Good. I wanted to know what Carmen knew, or thought she knew, but I didn’t want her confiding in Denise Seaver. The less Doctor Seaver knew about anything, the better.

  However— “That’s too bad.”

  Rafe shrugged. “We’ll figure it out. The doc asked Seaver about DNA tests. It’s more her field than his, I guess.”

  I guess.

  “Seems you can test the mother’s blood for shreds of the baby’s DNA, and then match that to the father’s blood. You can also draw directly from the baby, and that’d be more accurate, but she’s so close to the end of the pregnancy that Seaver said something like that could bring on premature labor.”

  And while it was late enough in the pregnancy that the baby would probably be OK if it was born now, nobody wanted to take that chance. I could certainly understand that. Besides, Carmen would probably have to agree to the procedure, and maybe it was best, at least for now, if she didn’t know what was going on.

  “So they’re going to check her blood for the baby’s DNA and then match it to yours?”

  He nodded. “Seaver said she’s due in for a checkup tomorrow anyway. That way, it’ll just look like routine.”

  Excellent. “Who’s doing the paternity test?” Not Denise Seaver, I hoped. If so, there was no way we’d be able to trust the results, either way they came out.

  “The TBI forensic lab,” Rafe said. “I’ll go give’em my blood in the morning. They should have Carmen’s by afternoon. Maybe the next day we’ll know something. Or by the end of the week at the latest.”

  “It takes a lot longer on TV.”

  “Backlog,” Rafe told me. “It ain’t that the test takes all that long. It’s that the lab has a lot of’em to do, and they take’em in order. If this was somebody else, it’d be a couple weeks, at least.”

  “I guess they do it faster for one of their own.”

  “That,” Rafe said, “and it was a big case. She was part of it. And everybody wants to know if the baby’s got anything to do with anything. Like, if it’s Hector’s baby, that’d be interesting.”

  “Do you think it might be Hector’s baby?”

  He shrugged. “Could be anybody’s baby. Could be mine, but I doubt I was the only man she slept with that week.”

  “But if it is yours...”

  “We’ll figure something out,” Rafe said and pushed the chair back. “Wanna sit there and watch while I cook dinner?”

  Under normal circumstances, that sounded like a very nice pastime. Is there anything sexier than watching a half naked man cooking the dinner he plans to feed you?

  However— “I’d rather have your help searching Heidi Hoppenfeldt’s office,” I said, and watched him arch a brow before he sat back down.

  “You serious?”

  “I couldn’t search it earlier. Too many people around. So I decided to come back when the place is empty.”

  “Why Heidi’s office?”

  I told him I had started my process of elimination by figuring out who needed the money and who didn’t. “I know there could be other reasons why someone might want five hundred thousand dollars other than need...”

  Rafe nodded.

  “...but it’s somewhere to start. Brittany makes less than anyone else in the office.” Except me. “She went shopping for a trousseau today. She must have spent a nice chunk of change. Some of the bags she brought back were from expensive stores.” Stores I had frequented when I was married to Bradley, and had his lawyer’s salary to play with, but stores I didn’t frequent any longer. “She and Devon are flying to Curacao to honeymoon this weekend, she said.”

  Rafe didn’t say anything, just lifted the other brow.

  “Interesting, right? And Heidi... she was Brenda’s protégée before Brenda was killed. Brenda was teaching her to be a kick-butt realtor. And then Brenda died, and now Tim’s mostly using her to do administrative tasks. He sent her to the office supply store today, for envelopes. And she didn’t act like she minded, but I don’t imagine she’s very happy about it, either.”

  “So she’s making less than she was expecting, and he ain’t appreciating her.”

  I nodded. “If I were Heidi, I might not mind implicating Tim in the disappearance of half a million dollars.”

  “She strike you as somebody who’d steal?”

  “She went to work for Brenda,” I reminded him. “Brenda was a crook.”

  “She’s worth looking into, then.”

  I thought so. “So you’ll come with me?”

  “I figure I’d better. There’s no telling what kind of trouble you can get into on your own.”

  He pushed the chair back again, and got to his feet. “I’m gonna go put on a T-shirt and some socks. And find something to put on those scratches of yours.”

  “I thought you were going to cook for me,” I said.

  “Tomorrow. If we’re going snooping tonight, I want a burger.”

  I’d already had a burger today, but I was up for another. I’m pregnant. I get to eat what I want.

  “I’m right behind you,” I told him.

  SIX

  By the time we got to the office, it was after eight, and the parking lot was deserted.

  First, we’d spent thirty minutes upstairs. ‘Resting,’ as Rafe called it. We spent the time in bed, but it wasn’t particularly restful. The hour following it had been, since I’d fallen asleep with his hand stroking my stomach and his voice cooing at the baby.

  After I woke up, we went to this little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that Rafe likes and had greasy burgers and fries. I followed it up with Tums, since I figured I’d be paying with heartburn later. And by then, it was dark and Rafe decreed it was safe to go to the office. “It’s prob’ly empty. Right?”

  “Probably.” Occasionally, someone will have late business to take care of, a quick run inside to pick up paperwork or scan something somewhere, but under most circumstances, the office is empty by six-thirty or seven.

  We parked by the curb. “Might as well,” Rafe said. “I know you work here and nobody’d wonder why your car’d be in the lot at night, but better safe than sorry.” I opened the back door with my key and gestured him in.

  We stood for a second and let our eyes adjust to the dark. Everything was quiet. I raised my voice. “Hello? Anyone here?”

  Nobody answered.

  We locked the door behind us. “Heidi’s office is over there.” I gestured through the dark.

  “What’re we looking for?”

  “I’m not sure,” I admitted as we walked in that direction, “but I figure I’ll know it when I see it.” Heidi’s door was closed but unlocked. I pushed it open, into Stygian blackness. Heidi doesn’t have a window in her office. “You think it’s safe to turn on the light?”

  “We’re gonna have to,” Rafe said. “Unless you brought a flashlight.”

  I hadn’t, so I flicked the light switch. The brightness burned my retinas, and I squeezed my eyes shut as I went back to the conversation as it had been before the distraction. “We’re looking for anything to do with Magnolia Houston or Miss Harper. Or Mr. Peretti, the lawyer. Or proof that the email to DeWitts came from Heidi’s computer. Failing that, five hundred thousand in cash sitting in a file drawer would be nice.”

  “Somehow I don’t think we’re gonna get that lucky.”

  I didn’t, either. Heidi wasn’t stupid. She wouldn’t leave half a million dollars in cash sitting around. And anyway, there ha
d been no cash involved in this transaction. Just wire transfers. The money was sitting snugly in an account somewhere. Not in the bottom drawer of someone’s desk.

  “I’m not sure what we’re looking for,” I admitted. “We’re just looking. And I don’t expect to find anything. But we have to look.”

  “Then we’ll look.” He glanced around. “You want the desk or the filing cabinets?”

  I chose the cabinets. “Do you know anything about computers?”

  “Not much. But I can call José. He likes technology.”

  “Go ahead, if you think he can help. Just make sure you don’t do anything you can’t fix again. We don’t want Heidi to realize we’ve been here.”

  I pulled out the first drawer in the filing cabinet while Rafe dialed.

  He must have gotten voicemail, because all the said was, “It’s Rafe. Gimme a call when you have a minute. I need some help with a computer.”

  With that done, he put the phone back in his pocket and started to go through the desk.

  We worked in silence. This wasn’t the time for small talk—we had to get done and get out as quickly as possible. Wasting time with sexy banter would only slow us down, and besides, there wasn’t much to say. I certainly didn’t come across anything pertaining to Magnolia Houston or Miss Harper or the house in Goodlettsville that I needed to share with him.

  Which was a little surprising, come to think of it. If Heidi was Tim’s assistant—and she was—shouldn’t she have copies of his files?

  Then again, maybe he had relieved her of the copy yesterday afternoon, when he found out about the wayward money.

  I had a filing cabinet and a half to go when Rafe straightened.

  I did, too, and put a hand to my back. Bending is harder than it used to be. “Done already?”

  He put a finger to his lips, and then I heard it, too. A car engine at the rear of the building. Someone was pulling into the parking lot.

  It might be someone who couldn’t find parking on the street and who didn’t want to pay for parking in one of the commercial lots, so he figured he’d park in the real estate company’s lot for free while the office was closed. I’m sure it wouldn’t be the first time.

  Or it could be someone coming into the building. Another realtor, the cleaning crew. Or someone else.

  Rafe had already moved, soundlessly, across the floor to the door and flicked off the light. “C’mere.”

  There was barely any sound behind the words. More air than anything else.

  I left the file drawer open and made my way toward him, doing my best to avoid running into anything, in the suddenly pitch black room.

  He snagged me around the middle and pulled me up against the wall behind the door.

  If it was Heidi, obviously she’d see us once she came into her office and turned on the light. But if it were anyone else, we stood a chance of escaping detection. Unless the newcomer was up to no good, he or she had no reason to search the place.

  It was probably just one of the agents stopping by to pick up some paperwork. But better safe than sorry.

  Outside, the engine had stopped running. I focused, but couldn’t hear the sound of footsteps. Maybe whoever was out there was just on his way to the FinBar for a drink or late dinner, and was headed away from us.

  Or maybe not. A jingling and a scratching noise was the sound of a key being inserted in the lock.

  Rafe put his finger against my lips. He must be able to see me better than I was able to see him. I’ve always suspected he’s able to see in the dark.

  I nodded. I knew I had to be quiet.

  The door opened, and then closed again.

  There was a moment of silence. Whoever had come in, was just standing there, not moving.

  That was a little suspicious. As if he or she was making sure the place was empty.

  Or maybe that wasn’t why, and it wasn’t suspicious. Maybe the person in the hallway was able to sense that someone else was here and was wondering what the hell—heck—we were doing, standing here in the dark.

  I opened my mouth, and Rafe’s finger pressed harder. I closed it again.

  Out in the hallway, someone moved.

  By now, my eyes had gotten used to the lack of light, and I could see the outlines of things. The desk, the back of the chair, the computer monitor. There was a bit more light in the hallway, from the security light in the parking lot shining in.

  Whoever was out there must have decided he was alone after all. Or at least he—or she—didn’t bother to check the rooms lining the hallway for signs of life. I heard footsteps come closer and then pass the door, as a shadow brushed across the gap between the door and the jamb.

  It was only a second. Too fast and too dark for me to get an impression of anything but a human figure. Average sized. Could be male or female. A tallish woman or a medium sized man. There was no distinctive click of high heels.

  I’m five-eight in my bare feet. On the taller side for a woman. Rafe’s six-three. Tall for anyone. And muscular. Whoever had just brushed past, was much smaller than Rafe, both in height and breadth.

  Could be Tim. He’s the slender and elegant type, around six feet tall.

  Or it could be one of the other male agents.

  We stood and listened while he—or perhaps she, but I was leaning toward male—continued up the hallway toward the front of the building. I expected him to turn into one of the offices along the way, but he didn’t. After a few seconds—that felt a lot longer—we heard him go into the lobby.

  “My office!” I hissed.

  “Shhhh!” Rafe hissed back.

  “What if he’s going to my office?”

  His breath tickled the hair in front of my ear. “Is there something in your office anybody would want?”

  I couldn’t think of anything. Unless it was Tim, and he wanted to know what, if anything, I might have discovered about the missing money.

  Or unless he was hoping for nude photographs of Rafe. If so, he’d be disappointed.

  But if he’d wanted an update on the investigation, Tim would have called me. He wasn’t the type to sneak around the office in the dark. Not when he had every right to be here. Brittany wouldn’t think anything of it—or at least wouldn’t say anything about it—if Tim walked into my office tomorrow morning and started going through my desk. He was paying her salary. There was absolutely no reason why he’d need to sneak around now.

  I felt Rafe move away from me. I reached for his arm. He twitched away, and just as he did, a shrill ringing cut through the air.

  “Shit!”

  He didn’t stop to turn off his cell phone—José, calling back to offer help with the computer?—just ran, as a panicked scramble sounded from the front of the office. Whoever was out there must have realized he wasn’t alone.

  I took off after Rafe, as a thin scream cut through the air.

  “Don’t hurt me! Don’t hurt me!”

  I arrived in the front lobby to find Rafe looming over a smaller, more slender man who had his back against the wall and his hands up in front of him. Rafe had a hand fisted in the front of his T-shirt, and he was practically gibbering with terror.

  “It’s OK,” I told Rafe after I had flicked on the light. “You can let him go.”

  He shot me a glance over his shoulder. “You know this guy?”

  “His name is Devon. He’s Brittany’s boyfriend.” Or fiancé. Or husband-to-be.

  He looked the same way he always did. A skinny young man in his early twenties, with too-long, dark hair obscuring half his face, a nose ring, a couple of tattoos on scrawny arms, dressed in a pair of skinny, black jeans and a black T-shirt.

  Good for burglarizing, but I’d seen him wear all-black before, too, so it wasn’t necessarily a sinister sign of anything.

  When Rafe let him go, he did his best to smooth out the wrinkles in the T-shirt, but without much success. The sneer wasn’t very successful, either, since he was clearly terrified. Rafe had moved back a step, but he wa
s still four inches taller and forty pounds heavier than Devon.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  He gave me a hostile look through the strands of hair. “Looking for something.”

  “What?”

  “Something Brittany forgot earlier.”

  “What was that?”

  “None of your business.” He flipped the hair out of his face. “I don’t answer to you.”

  True. “Did you find it?”

  “Yes,” Devon said, and touched his pocket, “before your gorilla here attacked me.”

  Rafe growled. It was more panther than gorilla, and Devon turned a shade paler. When Rafe told him, “Then get outta here,” he ran for the door. And knocked me back against the wall on his way past. I guess maybe he underestimated the size of the stomach.

  Rafe took a step after him, and I put my hand out. “Never mind.”

  “You OK?” He put a hand on my stomach, warm through the fabric of my dress.

  I nodded. “Fine. No harm done. Let him go. He has the right to be here.” Sort of.

  Rafe leaned up against the wall next to me. “Brittany’s boyfriend?”

  “The receptionist. They’ve been together at least a year. I’ve seen him a couple of times. Enough to know who he is.”

  “Wonder why she didn’t come here herself to pick up whatever it was she forgot.”

  “Maybe she’s outside in the car,” I said.

  Rafe shrugged.

  “What was he doing when you came in here?”

  “Booking for the front door as fast as he could.” He nodded to it, next to the wall he’d had Devon up against. “He coulda been doing anything at all before that.”

  “No idea whether he was rooting around in Brittany’s desk or mine?”

  He arched a brow. “Any reason he’d root around in yours?”

  “None I can think of.”

  “Take a look,” Rafe said. “I’ll check over here.” He indicated Brittany’s reception desk, sitting in lone majesty in front of the window. From where I was standing, I couldn’t tell whether anything had been disturbed. Which meant that from this angle, at least, nothing seemed to have been.

  I let him deal with it, and headed for the door to my own little office.