She was right. Wyatt looked deliciously sexy after he’d showered and put on gray slacks and a light-blue dress shirt. His hair was thick and wavy, his cheeks freshly shaven, and he smelled like musk and man, and it was all Avery could do not to throw herself into his arms and find that better time right now.
Despite the immediate guilty feeling that followed, a part of her wondered why they should wait?
Life was ridiculously short. Noelle had been eating cotton candy one minute and dying of a stab wound the next.
Maybe she should start living like there might not be a tomorrow, especially in view of how much danger she was currently in.
But there was no time to act on her reckless thoughts. They would be late for dinner and this dinner was turning out to be about more than her dad’s fifty-sixth birthday. Still, she couldn’t help smiling under Wyatt’s appreciative gaze. “What?” she asked, sensing he wanted to say something, or maybe she just wanted him to say it.
“You look beautiful, Avery.”
She smoothed down the sides of her short, clingy black dress, glad she’d put on high heels and had a chance to pull herself together. Wyatt had seen her at her worst so far. This might not be her best, but it was quite an improvement. She’d left her hair down, put on some makeup, even spritzed herself with some perfume, and Wyatt’s words made her feel even better about herself. “Thanks. You clean up well, too.”
His eyes sparkled with warm humor. “Glad you think so.”
She really did, and a gnawing hunger in her gut had nothing to do with the fact that she hadn’t eaten in hours. It was all about this man who had appeared out of nowhere and had somehow become her constant companion. But they were in dangerous territory, alone in this hotel room, and she couldn’t handle any more danger, no matter how sexy it might be.
“We should go,” she said. “Whitney hates when people are late. Not that she’s ever on time.”
“One-way street, huh?”
“That’s Whitney.” She put a silky wrap around her shoulders that would do little to keep her warm, but the only jacket she had in her suitcase had Noelle’s blood on it, and that wasn’t going to work.
Within minutes, they were in the car and on their way to her father’s house in Calabasas, an upscale suburb north of Los Angeles, on the other side of the Malibu Canyon. He’d purchased the house a few months ago when he and Whitney had moved in together, choosing the location because all the Tremaines had homes in the area and the hillside community offered views of the mountains and the beach.
Opting to avoid the freeways, Wyatt took the northern beach route, heading up the Pacific Coast Highway, turning off just past Malibu to drive through the Santa Monica Mountains to Calabasas.
“I am not looking forward to this,” she muttered as Wyatt weaved his way through the unusually heavy traffic. Apparently, a lot of beachgoers had decided to take this route as well.
“I can understand that.”
“On my best day, a dinner like this would not be high on my list of things to do, and this is nowhere near to my best day. But it is my dad’s birthday, so I really can’t skip it.”
“It might be a good distraction.”
“I doubt that, although it will give you an opportunity to get up close and personal with the Tremaines.”
“I’m looking forward to that. I’ve had brief conversations with Jonathan and Kyle, but I’ve never spoken to Whitney. I did see her at Hamilton’s house once, but she didn’t come in to say hello.”
“You were at Hamilton’s house?” she asked with surprise. “He doesn’t invite many employees to his home. It took me a year to get an invite. You seem awfully close to Hamilton for someone who has only worked at the company for a month. Did you bond over Marine stories?”
“We did, but our connection actually started when I saved Hamilton from being robbed and carjacked.”
“What? When did that happen?”
“Right before I was hired. It was at the beach. Hamilton likes to surf in the mornings. I happened to be walking by when two thugs attacked him.”
“His driver wasn’t around?”
“He’d gone to get coffee. Anyway, Hamilton was grateful. We got to talking, and eventually he offered me a job. He’s a good man—much more down-to-earth than I would have expected from a billionaire.”
“Hamilton is very generous, and he talks to everyone. He’s not class-conscious.”
“That was one of the first things I noticed about him.”
“Whitney, on the other hand, is very class-conscious. When you were describing your mother to me earlier, she reminded me of Whitney. My father’s girlfriend is very into her women’s groups and her charities. She dresses extremely well, always has her makeup on, her hair done, and she spends a lot of time working out.”
“You don’t like her,” he said, shooting her a look. “Just because of her relationship with your dad?”
“Well, I don’t love that, but even before they got involved, I wasn’t a fan, and Whitney has never cared for me. She doesn’t like Hamilton’s friendship with me, or that we share a common love of astronomy. It seems to make her jealous in some way. But since she started seeing my father, she pretends to like me. It’s not genuine, but that’s fine. We do not have to be friends.”
“Does your father want you to be friends?” Wyatt asked, as he turned off the highway and headed into the hills where there was a lot less traffic.
“Yes. He keeps telling me that Whitney has changed since she took his class on living your best life. She’s now in tune with her emotions and is seeking peace instead of material goods and personal recognition. I don’t believe that for one second. But I want my father to be happy. And I know how much Hamilton cares about Whitney’s happiness, so I try to be friendly.”
“It’s a tangled web.”
She blew out a breath, twisting her fingers together. “Yes. And if there’s some kind of conspiracy going on at Nova Star that involves one of the Tremaines, I think things are going to get more complicated.”
“You mentioned that you and your father reconnected several months ago?” Wyatt asked.
She frowned, having a feeling she knew where he was going. “Yes.”
Wyatt glanced over at her. “Don’t want to talk about it?”
He’d obviously heard the restraint in her voice. “I know what you’re going to suggest—that my father reaching out to me to put him right into the Tremaine inner circle.”
“Well, it did, didn’t it?”
“Yes, but that was all by chance.”
“Was it?” Wyatt countered. “You’re a scientist, Avery. Is that what the data tells you?”
“Don’t play the science card. We’re talking about my father.” She settled back in her seat as Wyatt concentrated on the traffic. She didn’t want to consider the fact that her dad could be involved in anything, because that seemed completely unbelievable. “My dad wouldn’t have access to proprietary material. It’s not like Whitney works at the company. She’s rarely even at Nova Star.”
“You’re probably right.”
She wondered if he really believed that. Despite the fact that they’d gotten closer, there was a part of Wyatt that she couldn’t quite read. Even when he seemed to be in a sharing mood, he still held back. She was quite certain that there were things he knew that she didn’t. But she believed he wanted to find Noelle’s killer. And at the moment, that was the most important thing.
Twenty minutes later, Wyatt stopped at the guard house for the gated community her father lived in. She leaned over and gave her name to the female guard, Jessica, who she’d seen several times before. “Hi,” she said. “Family dinner.”
“I heard,” Jessica replied. “Have fun.”
The guard gate went up, and they drove into the complex and up several hilly streets before reaching her dad’s home. They snagged a spot in the driveway and then made their way to the front door.
“This is nice,” Wyatt said, his gaze scanning the house and surrounding area. While there were nearby neighbors, tall trees and shrubs prevented them from being seen. “It’s not quite as large as Hamilton’s home, but it’s very luxurious.”
“My father likes luxury. And even when he didn’t have as much money as he does now, he wanted to appear successful. We always rented nice homes and my dad wore expensive suits, even when he was just job hunting. He said success breeds success, and I can’t say he’s wrong. He turned a book without a particularly original idea into a huge motivational enterprise. People actually use him to improve their lives.” She shook her head in bemusement, still not clear on how her dad had made that happen.
“People will believe anything if you hit them at their weak spot. We’re all just looking for the secret to life, right?”
She gave him a thoughtful look. “Are you looking for a secret?”
“No, not me. I’ve already found it,” he said lightly.
“You have? Please share.”
“The secret is there is no secret. You live your life as best you can, enjoy what makes you happy, and that’s it.”
“Sounds very simple.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Peace and happiness seem much more complex to me. But I tend to make things more difficult than they are. At least, that’s what Noelle used to say.” She drew in a breath. “She keeps coming into my head.”
“That’s normal. She’s on your mind. You don’t want to let her go.”
“I know I have to let her go. Maybe it will be easier once we know what really happened to her.”
“I hope so,” Wyatt said somberly, as he reached for the bell. “Ready?”
“Or not—here we come,” she murmured.
* * *
Brett Caldwell looked exactly like the cover of his book jacket, Wyatt thought. He was tall and attractive, with dark-brown hair and eyes, and a charming, boyish smile that inspired trust. But Wyatt knew too much about him to be sucked in.
Brett gave Avery a smile and a hug. “I’m so glad you came, Avery. I know this is a terrible time for you and the last thing you want to do is come to a party.”
“Well, I wouldn’t miss your birthday, Dad.”
“I appreciate that. I’ve been worried about you. I’ve sent you several texts. When you didn’t answer, I even called your mother to see if you were all right and caught her on the beach in Maui. I guess if you weren’t all right, she wouldn’t have gone on her trip.”
“I’m doing okay, hanging in there as best I can. Sorry about the messages. I just haven’t felt like talking to anyone.”
“I understand. Your mother said that Kari can’t pay for Noelle’s funeral. If you need financial help, I’m happy to contribute.”
“I’ll figure it out.” She stepped back from her dad. “This is Wyatt Tanner. I hope you don’t mind an extra guest for dinner.”
Brett’s gaze swung to his, becoming suddenly sharper and more assessing. “Of course not. Nice to meet you, Mr. Tanner.”
“Happy birthday, Mr. Caldwell.”
“Are you and Avery—”
“We’re friends,” Avery said quickly, before he could offer an explanation for his presence. “Wyatt works in security at Nova Star. He’s been very supportive since Noelle was killed. And he’s staying on top of the investigation.”
“Good,” Brett said with a nod. “We need some answers. Noelle was a sweetheart. What happened to her is tragic.”
“I completely agree,” he said.
“Avery,” a woman said, appearing behind Brett.
“Hi, Whitney,” Avery said, giving the other woman an impersonal hug and an air kiss. “It’s good to see you.”
Whitney sidled up closer to Brett, as if needing to remind Avery that she and her father were together. They did make a striking couple. Whitney had straight blonde hair and deep blue eyes with an hourglass figure that probably had had some help from a plastic surgeon at some point.
“I’ve been thinking about you a lot since Friday night,” Whitney said. “If there’s anything I can do, I hope you’ll let me know.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that,” Avery said politely.
“Mr. Tanner,” Whitney said, turning to him with a speculative gleam in her eyes. “I saw you at my father’s house a couple of weeks ago. I didn’t want to interrupt your meeting. It appears that you’re his new favorite friend at the company.”
She didn’t make that sound like a compliment. “I like and respect your father a great deal. And it’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I sincerely doubt my father has told you a lot about me,” she said, an edge to her voice. “But come in, come in. We are having drinks out on the terrace. My father is already here with Larry Bickmore and his wife, Karen, and Tawny Spellman and her very boring husband, Walter. Oh, and another old friend of Dad’s is here, whose name I forget.”
“Are your brothers coming?” Avery asked.
“They’re supposed to be. Jonathan is coming solo. He and Stephanie are having a few problems, not that they’ve publicly stated that, but she seems to come down with a headache or some other germ every time we get together,” Whitney said. “Kyle and Liz will be here, as far as I know.”
“Any friends of yours, Dad?” Avery asked Brett, as Whitney moved ahead to speak to one of the caterers.
“It’s a Nova Star and Tremaine night tonight,” he said with a smile. “Family time.”
Wyatt had a feeling that Avery was biting back a reply that had something to do with the fact that the Tremaines weren’t his family, but she remained silent.
As they walked through the house, he made note of the expensive furniture, paintings, and carefully designed décor, all in keeping with what Avery had told him earlier about her dad’s taste for the finer things in life. But it was the spectacular floor-to-ceiling windows and the deck off the living room that really impressed. Not only did Brett’s home offer a stunning view of the hills they’d just driven through, but also the Pacific Ocean in the distance.
They followed Brett out to the terrace where a bartender was serving drinks, and a server was offering appetizers to the group of men and women.
He had previously met both Larry Bickmore, senior counsel, and Tawny Spellman, senior vice-president of manufacturing and production, but neither meeting had gone beyond perfunctory conversation and brief security updates. While he knew little about them personally, professionally they were well-respected by their employees and colleagues. They were both also very close to Hamilton.
Larry’s spouse Karen wore a very low cut, clingy dress, showing off her breasts. She already seemed to be well into cocktail hour. Tawny’s husband Walter was a balding, older man, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.
While Avery said hello to Tawny and Walter, he snagged a crab puff off a silver tray, he had to admit this undercover gig was certainly better than most of his jobs. Usually, he was inserted into some drug dealing cartel. But his good feeling vanished when he saw the man standing closest to Hamilton Tremaine.
It was Vincent Rowland, a former FBI agent, the father of his friend Jamie, who had died during a training assignment at Quantico, a man who knew exactly who he was and what he did for a living.
He drew in a sharp breath, hoping Vincent wouldn’t blow his cover. He would soon find out.
But it wasn’t Vincent who greeted him first; it was Hamilton, whose bright-blue eyes seemed to have dimmed the past few days.
“Wyatt,” Hamilton said, coming forward to shake his hand. “It’s good to see you. I’m glad Avery brought you. I hope we can find a few moments together.”
“Of course.”
“Daddy, this isn’t the time for business with your favorite security guy,” Whitney interrupted, as she joined them. “It’s Brett’s party.”
“Just a little business,” Hamilton said, giving his daughter an apologetic smile. “It won’t take long. You don’t mind, do you, Brett?” he asked, giving Avery’s father a questioning glance.
“It’s fine with me,” Brett said, waving them off.
Hamilton turned to Vincent, who was regarding them with a contemplative expression. “Vincent—I want you to meet Wyatt Tanner. He’s running my security team now. Wyatt, this is Vincent Rowland, former FBI, long-time friend.”
As he stepped forward to shake Vincent’s hand, he couldn’t help thinking that the last time they’d exchanged a handshake had been at Jamie’s memorial celebration in New York a few months ago.
Vincent looked better tonight, wearing black slacks and a sport jacket, his black hair neatly styled. He was in his mid-sixties and had an air of wealth and sophistication about him, which made sense, since he was moving in the same circle as a billionaire and a celebrity writer.
“Mr. Tanner,” Vincent said, a gleam in his eyes. “You must have a busy schedule these days.”
“I do,” he said, happy that Vincent was protecting his cover.
“Wyatt and I need to have a few words,” Hamilton added. “We’ll be back soon.”
“Take your time,” Vincent said.
As Hamilton motioned him toward the house, he glanced over at Avery, who gave him an uneasy nod, before turning back to her conversation.
Hamilton had clearly been in the home numerous times, as he confidently made his way through the living room and dining room, where a long table was laid out with fine china and expensive crystal, down a long hallway to a dark-paneled study at the back of the house that was clearly Brett’s office.
A massive mahogany desk and leather armchair was placed in front of the window. On the desk was keyboard in front of a large monitor as well as several journals and a couple of framed photographs. On one wall were framed book covers and travel photos. On the other wall, a floor-to-ceiling bookcase held numerous hardcovers and paperbacks. Avery might not have a lot in common with her father, but they both certainly liked books.
“Well, what can you tell me?” Hamilton asked, as he shut the door behind them. “Do you have any more leads into who killed Ms. Price? Is it tied to my company?”
“Yes. I believe her death is tied to Nova Star.”
“Damn. I did not want you to say that. Please don’t tell me Jonathan is the best suspect.”
“Not yet, but that will change when the FBI figures out that Jonathan met with Ms. Price two days before her murder.”
“You haven’t told them that, have you?”
“No, but we need to head this off. Have you spoken to Jonathan?”
“Briefly. He brushed me off. He said he ran into her at the restaurant, and her date had bailed on her, so they had a drink.”
“That’s not what happened.”
Hamilton gave him a pained look. “Jonathan likes women, and I know his marriage is not as happy as it could be, but he’s not a murderer. Nor, is he a thief. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Twice,” Wyatt pointed out. “Right before Jia Lin was killed and now Noelle.”
“It’s a coincidence. And you need to prove that, Wyatt.”
“Which is why I intend to speak to Jonathan tonight. He needs to know how high the stakes are.”
“If he doesn’t know that, he’s a fool,” Hamilton said. He might be loyal to his son, but he also had little patience for bad behavior. “What else have you learned?”
“Carter Hayes, Noelle’s boyfriend, went through Noelle’s desk after she left work Friday night. He was definitely looking for something, and it appears that Noelle might have had two phones, one of which is missing.”
“And that’s what everyone is looking for?”
“Possibly. Carter has been interrogated by the FBI with more interviews on tap. Carter works in Larry’s department.”
“Larry mentioned that. It does concern me since legal obviously has access to our patent information. But Larry assured me that Carter is a stand-up guy and a loyal employee, and Larry has always been a good judge of character. Anything else?”
“There was an email hack attempt made on Kyle’s work email, and the ISP was tracked to this house.” His gaze traveled to the computer on Brett’s desk.
“What?” Hamilton asked, surprise in his eyes. “You’re saying someone in this house tried to get into Kyle’s email? Then you’re talking about Brett or Whitney.”
“Or perhaps Kyle was here.”
“He never comes over here unless there’s a mandated event, like tonight’s party.” Hamilton paced around the room. “No. This is just a continuation of someone’s plan to target my family and set them up for whatever crimes are going down. First, Jonathan, now Whitney or Brett. We have to figure this out fast.”
“Agreed.” He could see the agitation building in Hamilton’s eyes, and he hadn’t yet dealt the biggest blow. “I also wanted to let you know that the man who broke into Noelle’s apartment yesterday was found dead this morning—executed.”
Hamilton sucked in a breath, his skin turning as white as his hair. “This gets worse and worse.”
“I think you should postpone the launch on Tuesday.”
“That’s asking a lot. There are so many moving parts, Wyatt.”
“I believe the launch is a target. It’s a big risk to move forward with all of this going on.”
Hamilton shook his head in frustration and anger. “It takes years to get to where we are right now. It wouldn’t be like postponing it for a week—it could be a month or more before we could get back to a good date. We’d have to wait for the right weather conditions, and we’d have to run through all the tests and pre-checks again.”
“Better to wait than to lose your satellite or more lives,” he said bluntly. “There’s too much we don’t know.”
“How do you know about the man who was found dead today?”
“I have a friend in the police department,” he lied, needing to keep his connection to the bureau a secret. If he blew his cover now that he’d given Hamilton even more to worry about when it came to his family, he’d be out the door faster than he could turn around.
“But the FBI took over the case.”
“They’re still sharing intel with the police. You might want to reconsider your stance on the feds. Maybe working with the bureau would be helpful.”
“No. We need to keep this in-house. Hell, it could be someone from the FBI trying to frame my sons.”
“But you brought an ex-FBI agent to this party. I’m curious as to why.”
“Oh, Vincent is an old friend,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “And he’s been out of the bureau for ten years.”
“Have you spoken to him about what’s going on?”
“A little. He supported maintaining my own investigation, so I need you to keep doing what you’re doing but do it faster. We should get back to the party. This is Brett’s night, and Whitney will have a fit if we mess it up.”
“What do you think of Brett?” he asked, his gaze moving toward the desk where a photograph had caught his eye. It was a picture of Brett and an elderly Chinese man standing in front of the Temple of Heaven in Beijing.
“Brett knows how to make the most of what he has. He spent a year traveling the world. China was one of his favorite places. According to him, what he learned there changed him forever.”
“Interesting that he was in China.”
“He went other places as well,” Hamilton said, a tight note in his voice, as he read Wyatt’s thoughts. He waved his hand toward the photographs on the wall. “There he is in front of the Taj Mahal in India, Buckingham Palace in London, Moscow’s Red Square. Because a man is well-traveled doesn’t mean he’s guilty of anything. Brett can’t be involved in this. I’ve welcomed the man into my family. He wouldn’t betray me. Hell, he’s Avery’s father, and she loves the company as much as I do.”
Wyatt waited for Hamilton to run out of steam. He didn’t want Brett Caldwell to be involved in anything, either, because no matter how complicated Avery’s relationship was with her father, she loved the man even more than she loved Nova Star. And the last thing he wanted to do was bring Avery more pain. She’d just lost her best friend; she couldn’t lose her father, too.
“Whitney is crazy about Brett,” Hamilton added. “I haven’t seen her this happy since before her mother died last year. Brett brings out the best in her. She’d gotten so bitter, so angry all the time. I sometimes felt like she blamed me for not saving her mother. But I got the best doctors. We tried every experimental opportunity we could. It just wasn’t enough.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s go back to the party. This conversation is pointless. Noelle’s murderer is not part of my family circle.”
He nodded, following Hamilton out of the room. He would go back to the party, but he was not going to let Brett Caldwell off the hook just yet. The timing of his entrance back into Avery’s life, his fast-moving relationship with Whitney, and the fact that he’d been in both Russia and China in the past year made him a very good suspect for something…