Revising her case leads in one of the ranch’s public lounges that afternoon, April should have been exhausted from the night spent on the mountain and the climb down afterward. Instead, she felt a renewed energy for solving her case as she sipped her chilled seltzer with a twist of lime and scrolled through notes on her tablet. The lounge was quiet at this hour, with most of the guests engaged in outdoor activities in the waning daylight. A country love song twanged through the speaker system while a fire crackled in the stone hearth close to April’s quiet booth table. She’d been here for over an hour, trying not to think too much about her upcoming date with Weston.
An impossible task, and no doubt the reason behind her feeling of restless energy. Her thoughts kept returning to their time together. And the promise of seeing him again for dinner. She wanted to believe that she’d agreed to the date to further her investigation. To see if she could learn more about Alonzo Salazar while she tried to unravel the mystery of Weston’s loyalty to the man.
But she knew that her attraction to Weston played into the decision as much as—or more than—anything. If it had been purely physical, maybe she could have ignored the draw of the man. But he’d risked his own neck in a snowstorm to make sure she was safe. He’d helped her even though he’d been doing his damnedest to stay away. How could she not be intrigued and enticed?
With an effort, she pulled her thoughts away from Weston to focus on her leads. She set her glass of water on the cork coaster while she scanned an online forum devoted to Hollywood. There was an active discussion of actress Tabitha Barnes’s recent revelation that Alonzo Salazar was the man behind the pseudonym A. J. Sorensen, the author of the book Hollywood Newlyweds. A book that had destroyed Tabitha’s family. For maximum impact and press exposure, she’d made the announcement at a celebrity-studded gala that had taken place at Mesa Falls Ranch—the kickoff event for the ranch’s expansion from private corporate retreat to a more public luxury ranch destination. April had been on-site then for the start of her investigation into Alonzo Salazar’s finances, and the revelation that her target was the reclusive author had changed the trajectory of her case significantly. Alonzo’s son Devon Salazar had hired her firm to find out where his father’s money had disappeared, and the case had gotten decidedly thornier after Tabitha Barnes’s big reveal.
“Ms. Stephens?” A feminine voice made her look up.
An auburn-haired young woman dressed in the khakis and white sweater that marked her as a ranch employee hovered near her elbow. Her gold name tag read Nicole.
“Yes?” She was surprised the staffer knew her name. Momentary panic for her mother bubbled though her. Had something gone wrong back home?
“I’m sorry to interrupt.” The woman glanced over her shoulder, as if to make sure no one would overhear them, eyes darting swiftly around the lounge before she lowered her voice. “I’ve contacted your office a couple of times to try to share some information. For your investigation?”
Puzzled, April shuffled the pieces in her mind, realizing there was no crisis at home. How had a ranch worker come to learn about her case? Turning off her tablet screen without breaking eye contact, April gestured toward the seat across from her, inviting the woman to sit down.
“I never received that message.” She wondered why. Had her office not forwarded the information? Or was the woman lying? “But you’re welcome to join me.”
She’d take any lead she could get at this point. Alonzo Salazar had employed a nominee service through a law office that allowed him to be publicly anonymous, financially speaking. Although the service should have expired after his death, it was possible he’d paid for it in advance, since the law office hadn’t broken their silence yet on where his funds from the book had gone.
The young woman hesitated. “The staff aren’t supposed to dine in here, but maybe if I just sit for a moment.”
She lowered herself into the booth, still glancing around the mostly empty lounge.
“Why don’t you start by telling me your name?” April prodded, used to reluctant parties giving her information in small doses. People were often worried about being implicated in a crime when money was being used in questionable ways.
“Nicole... Smith.” The smallest hesitation before giving the common surname told April it was most likely false. The woman toyed with the name tag on her sweater for a moment before slipping it off. “I’ve only worked here since the start of the New Year. I came to Mesa Falls Ranch after seeing the gala on the news.”
“The ranch really put itself on the map after that.” April smiled warmly to encourage confidences. “I haven’t seen any celebrities here this week, unfortunately.”
Nicole nodded quickly, speaking in a rush. “I was most interested in what Tabitha Barnes said about the real identity of the guy who wrote Hollywood Newlyweds.”
“And how did you find out I’m interested in that too?” April pressed, since Nicole seemed ready to get down to business with this discussion.
“I tried getting in touch with Devon Salazar once I learned Alonzo’s name.” Nicole spun the gold name tag on the table. “And after a few phone calls, he suggested I contact you.”
Interesting. That told April she was both persistent and—possibly—had something worthwhile to share.
“Did you do that before or after you took a job here?”
Nicole’s gaze flicked up to hers. Held. “Right around the same time. It was easy getting hired on here with so many new job openings after the gala.”
The buzzing in April’s ears told her she was getting closer to answers. Clearly Nicole was serious about digging deeper into Alonzo’s mysterious past.
“You’ve got my full attention.” April forced herself to stay perfectly still, keeping her body language relaxed even though she was on the edge of her proverbial seat. “What information were you hoping to share with me?”
Nicole squared her shoulders. Leaning closer, she lowered her voice even more.
“I might know where Alonzo’s money has been going,” she confided, her red hair spilling onto the table as it fell forward.
April’s pulse sped at the possible lead.
Finally.
She waited until Nicole spoke again. “I think he’s been financing the education and upbringing of my thirteen-year-old nephew.”
Nicole Cruz had taken a calculated risk sharing her family’s secrets with a virtual stranger.
But she was running out of resources and needed help fast to continue her quest for the truth. Right now, it seemed like financial forensics expert April Stephens was her best hope of solving the mystery of the paternity of Nicole’s sister’s son.
When Lana died of an aneurysm six months ago, her secrets had died with her. Including the identity of Matthew’s father. Even though a mysterious benefactor had pitched in to pay for the boy’s private schooling—a boarding school with the excellent resources a bright and promising autistic preteen required to thrive—that didn’t cover all the expenses associated with Matthew’s care. Not that Nicole regretted the sacrifices she’d made for him. Not for an instant. She wouldn’t trade the joys of having Mattie in her life for anything. But now that Lana was gone, Nicole wasn’t inclined to let the boy’s father off the hook for his responsibility the way her sister had. Matthew deserved his father’s support—financially, if nothing else.
And her only lead to his father?
Alonzo Salazar.
“What evidence do you have to support the theory?” April asked, the picture of elegant composure in her navy blue blazer and pale blue cashmere sweater underneath it.
With her perfect blond curls spiraling around her shoulders, the financial forensics investigator stood out from the other ranch guests in their expensive cowboy boots and brand-new Stetsons. April Stephens looked like the kind of woman who didn’t allow herself to get rattled. Her understated makeup was pretty without being showy. Everything about her announced that she was smart and efficient.
Or maybe that was wishful thinking. Nicole needed a lifeline if she was going to solve the question of who Matthew’s father was before the boy’s spring break. Once Mattie returned to their San Jose home next month, Nicole needed to be back in California. Her spur-of-the-moment ranch job would come to an end, and with it, her best chance of getting close to the truth. For now, she tried to share enough details with April to entice her to follow the story, but she wasn’t willing to give her real name yet. Or Lana’s, for that matter.
“My sister—Matthew’s mother—never named the boy’s father before she passed away last fall. But toward the end, she told me not to worry about Matthew because his education was being paid for. When I pressed her for details, because she was—” She had to stop her story suddenly, the memory of her sister’s last moments causing a shock of a pain so sharp it took her breath away.
She blinked, tried to see past the hurt, and the ache only sharpened. To her mortification, tears welled.
“Let me get you a drink.” April rushed out of the booth and hurried to the bar, demanding a water from the older guy who was reorganizing the beer glasses.
Nicole was grateful for the reprieve. She took the moment to surreptitiously steal the linen napkin from an unused place setting so she could dab at her eyes. By the time April returned, she had herself under control again.
“My apologies,” she managed between sips of the water April gave her. “And thank you for this.”
“Of course. I’m so sorry for the loss of your sister.” The words sounded heartfelt, and Nicole was grateful for them.
She’d spent so much time reeling from all the life changes since Lana’s death that she hadn’t really grieved. That was, she grieved all the time, since losing Lana was like losing a limb. But she hadn’t ever given in to the need to weep over the unfairness of it all. Maybe she feared once she started crying, she wouldn’t stop.
Whatever the reason, she couldn’t afford to take that time now. Not when she was finally sitting across from someone who might be able to help her secure a better, more stable future for Matthew.
“Thank you.” Sliding the cut-crystal glass to one side, she met April’s clear blue gaze. “Shortly before she passed, my sister made a mention of A. J. Sorensen providing for her son. At the time, I thought she was delirious or that I hadn’t understood her properly.”
In truth, her sister had simply tapped the cover of the book Hollywood Newlyweds since it had been on the nightstand of her hospital room. So Nicole thought she hadn’t really known what she was pointing at.
“What made you change your mind?” April prodded at the same moment that Nicole’s shift supervisor poked her head into the bar, her disapproving glare falling on Nicole.
She needed to get back to work. Her break from her desk job in guest services had ended five minutes ago. And technically, she wasn’t supposed to spend her break in the hospitality areas. So she talked fast.
“When Tabitha Barnes made her announcement that A. J. Sorensen was Alonzo, the pieces fell into place, since we knew him.” She needed to get back to work, and she slid out of the booth, taking her name tag with her. “Look, I can’t talk now, but tomorrow is my day off. I can meet you.”
Frowning, April covered Nicole’s hand with hers. “Are you suggesting that Alonzo fathered your sister’s son?”
“I seriously doubt it,” she told her honestly, passing over a scrap of paper with her phone number scribbled on it. “She was only twenty-one at the time, and Alonzo was much older.” Nicole had never gotten any hint that Matthew had been conceived under circumstances like that, and Lana had always seemed to like Alonzo well enough from what little they’d seen of him. But she didn’t treat him like the father of her child.
April shifted in her seat as if she was prepared to follow her. “Nicole, just one more thing—”
“Tomorrow, okay?” She hoped she hadn’t made a mistake by confiding in April Stephens. The woman was being employed by Alonzo’s son, after all. What if April decided it was in the Salazar family’s best interests to cut off support to Matthew altogether? “I can’t afford to lose this job.”
She’d lost too much already.
Every time April picked up her phone to cancel her date with Weston, she ended up setting it back down again.
Which was why she ended up dressed and ready for an evening with him even though she was far too flustered about her case to enjoy herself. Of course, an evening spent with him wasn’t supposed to be self-indulgent. She’d made the commitment to have dinner with Weston so she could learn something useful to help along her investigation. Now, she was distracted by leads she wanted to follow up on when the knock sounded on the door to her suite promptly at 7:00 p.m.
Swallowing hard, she forced herself to stand perfectly still in the middle of the living area floor for a moment while she collected her thoughts. She’d dressed on autopilot, settling on the only cocktail dress she’d brought on the trip. Long-sleeved and silky, the plum-colored sheath was plain except for the slashes in the crepe sleeves and the keyhole slit in the bodice underneath an otherwise high neck. Odd how those small hints of skin seemed so provocative in an otherwise conservative dress, but maybe it was just her thoughts about Weston that made her so self-aware tonight.
Get it together.
She couldn’t afford to let her guard drop around him. Especially not if he was protecting a man who harbored as many secrets as Alonzo Salazar. Anger simmered at the possibility that Salazar had fathered a child without publicly acknowledging him as his son. Frustration fueled her steps as she charged toward the door to answer it. To confront Weston.
Yanking open the door faster than she’d intended, she realized she hadn’t been prepared for the sight of him in evening attire. He was dressed head to toe in black, his jacket and silk shirt matching his polished boots. The lack of tie and the open top button on his shirt were the only casual notes.
“You look beautiful.” He stepped into the suite and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, so quick and perfunctory she might have written it off as mere politeness on his part if her skin didn’t tingle there long afterward, the hint of teakwood aftershave teasing her nose.
“Thank you.” She reached for her coat on the elk-horn stand near the door, but he beat her to it, his hand covering hers for a moment before he took over the task.
“Allow me.” He slipped the black wool coat around her shoulders, gently sliding her hair out from under the fabric once he’d settled it there. His hands lingered on her shoulders briefly.
Squeezing slightly before letting her go.
Her belly tightened in response as he stepped around her to hold the door for her. Desire and defensiveness warred inside her as she thought about how to survive the evening with her self-respect intact. She couldn’t give in to the temptation of Weston’s natural charisma. Couldn’t let her thoughts linger on what it had been like to wake up in his arms this morning.
She would need to be relentless in her quest for answers. She refused to let him off the hook if he was protecting Alonzo Salazar.
Biding her time, she simply followed Weston into the elevator and down to the lobby of the main guest lodge. Steeling herself to his charm, she allowed him to lead her out into the cold Montana evening. They crossed a carefully swept path to one of the older ranch buildings. Graying and weathered, the small barn had been renovated with a large stone patio around it that led down to a skating pond. A few couples were taking advantage of the skating area now, lit by three powerful outdoor lights shining down on the shiny surface of the ice. Country music filled the air from invisible speakers, giving the night a festive feel.
April had seen bigger events take place out here in the time she’d been a guest at Mesa Falls, but she’d never been inside the building where Weston led her now. Only a few lights twinkled from the renovated barn, but the scent of roasted meat and sweet spices hung in the air as he opened a side door.
Stepping onto a thick braided wool rug, April wiped the snow from the high heels she’d worn, the thick ribbons around her ankles drooping slightly. A huge fire burned in a brick hearth along one wall where a single table held place settings for two. No music played indoors, but she could still hear the steel guitars from outside on the pond.
“Your table awaits,” Weston said as he slid her coat from her shoulders, his knuckles grazing her skin through the slashes in the crepe sleeves of her dress.
The shiver that went through her didn’t have anything to do with the cold.
But it was a welcome reminder that she needed to confront him. He’d told her he wasn’t going to try ignoring her questions any longer. Hadn’t he assured her he wasn’t going to threaten to ask security to remove her from the ranch again?
So as soon as he slid her chair under the table and seated himself across from her, she came quickly to the point.
“I’ve had a break in the case, Weston.” She met his hazel gaze in the flickering candlelight of a single white taper, trying not to wish that their date could have been for fun. For romantic reasons. She stuffed down those thoughts to focus on what she’d learned. “A new lead about where Alonzo’s money has been going.”