I’ve been thinking about your ex-wife and your former vice president,” Grace said.
“Don’t think about Diana and Edward,” Julius said. “I sure as hell don’t want to think about either of them.”
“But there are issues here that you can’t ignore.”
“Watch me.”
She was doing just that, watching him from her perch on the other side of the kitchen counter. Julius was cracking eggs into a bowl. He did it with an easy, one-handed action. A man who was in the habit of cooking for himself, she thought. A man who was accustomed to living alone.
“I take it you don’t believe in getting closure?” she said.
“There is no such thing as closure as far as I’m concerned.” Julius tossed the contents of another egg into the bowl. “Things are what they are. You deal with reality and move on.”
“Listen up, Mr. Realist, I’m the one who was confronted by your ex in the ladies’ room last night. I’ve got a right to tell you what I think is going on and you should listen to me.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re sleeping together now, that’s why,” she shot back. “This is a relationship. In a relationship people are supposed to talk to each other.”
Julius groaned. “Okay, talk. But talk fast because we’ve got other To-Do items on our agenda today.”
“I’m aware of that.” She folded her arms on the granite and watched him whisk a little cream into the eggs. “Here’s my take on Diana. I think she feels guilty.”
“About walking out on me? I doubt it. Hell, she had cause. Just ask her.”
“I don’t think she feels guilty about walking out on you,” Grace said patiently. “I’m sure in her mind she did the right thing—she set you both free from a broken relationship that she knew could not be repaired. And what’s more, she had the good sense to figure out that things were not going to work before there were any children to consider.”
“I’ll give you that point.” Julius poured the beaten eggs into the frying pan. “So what’s she feeling guilty about?”
“She blames herself for being the reason you are trying to destroy her husband’s company.”
“Except that I’m not trying to destroy Hastings.”
“That is precisely what I told her.”
“Fine. You did what you could to straighten her out on that score.” Julius picked up a spatula and began dragging it slowly through the eggs. “Can we all move on now?”
“I think you should talk to Edward.”
“About moving on? Trust me, he’s got enough on his plate at the moment trying to save Hastings. He doesn’t have time for therapy.”
“I was thinking that you could offer to help him salvage the company.”
Julius looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “In case you haven’t noticed, I also have a lot going on right now.”
“Yes, I know, and I appreciate what you’re doing on my behalf but I think your issues with Edward and Diana are important.”
“I just told you, I don’t have any issues with either of them,” Julius said.
“You said you thought the problems were coming from within the Hastings family empire. If that’s true, Edward may be too close to the situation. Couldn’t you, perhaps, offer to consult for him?”
“He wouldn’t want my help, believe me.”
“Do you know that for a fact or are you just assuming that he would turn down an offer from you?”
Julius removed the pan from the burner. “I think it’s time we brought closure to this conversation and moved on to another topic.”
“What topic is that?”
“Your issues with a certain stalker. You’re supposed to make up a list of people in Witherspoon’s orbit, remember?”
“I did that for the police,” she said.
“The cops are looking for the killer.” Julius spooned the scrambled eggs onto two plates. “You and I are going after the stalker.”
“What if they’re one and the same?”
“That will certainly simplify things,” Julius said. “I think there’s a connection between the murder and the stalking but whether we’re looking for one or two people is still an open question.”
She did a quick little staccato with her fingertips on the granite counter.
“You’re not the first person to come up with that theory,” she said. “Kristy suggested that Nyla and Mr. Perfect might have conspired to murder Sprague. Millicent agrees with her.”
“It’s certainly a viable possibility.”
She reached for the tablet of lined yellow paper and the pen he had put on the counter. “Okay, I’ll see if I can expand the list.”
Her phone rang just as she finished writing Nyla Witherspoon. She glanced at the screen and saw her sister’s name. She picked up the phone.
“Hi, Alison, what’s going on?” she said.
“I don’t know,” Alison said. “You tell me, little sister.”
Alison’s voice was too cool and a shade too neutral. She was in lawyer mode. Grace went blank.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “Is something wrong? Alison, are you okay? Are Ethan and little Harry all right?”
“We’re fine. You’re the one who showed up on every business and financial blog that covers the Pacific Northwest this morning, to say nothing of social media.”
“What?”
“You were Julius Arkwright’s date for that Seattle business dinner and charity auction last night.” Alison’s voice started to rise. “There are pictures, Grace. He kissed you right there in front of half of the movers and shakers in the city. There are rumors of a scene with his ex—in the restroom, no less.”
“Oh, jeez.”
Grace glanced at Julius. He was sitting right next to her. She could tell from the flash of amusement in his eyes that he could hear Alison.
“Just a second, Alison.”
Grace jumped off the stool and hurried across the big living room to the window wall. She did not think that Julius could hear the other side of the conversation from that distance.
“Calm down, Alison,” she said softly. “I told you that Irene and her husband set me up with a blind date in Cloud Lake. I said the date’s name was Julius.”
“You never said his name was Julius Arkwright,” Alison snapped.
“I didn’t think it was important. Besides, you didn’t ask.”
“Good grief, do you have any idea who you’re seeing?”
Grace glanced back at Julius, who was now drinking coffee and putting on a good show of pretending to be oblivious.
“Yes, I’m pretty sure I know who I’m dating,” she said, speaking in low tones.
“Why are you whispering? Wait. Where, exactly, are you?”
“I’m still in Seattle.”
“You gave up your apartment there,” Alison said. “Good grief. You’re with him, aren’t you?”
“Stop talking as if I’m about to single-handedly launch Armageddon.”
“Too late,” Alison said. “If you’re sleeping with Julius Arkwright, the world as you know it is about to be drastically changed. Listen to me, my naive little sister, there are rumors circulating about Arkwright.”
“You mean that gossip about him trying to destroy the Hastings family business? Yes, I know. But they aren’t true.”
“I heard you defended Arkwright to his ex. And I’m inclined to agree with you. Given his reputation, I have a hunch that Hastings would be in much bigger trouble than it is if Arkwright had decided to take down the company.”
“Exactly,” Grace said.
“But,” Alison continued, “that doesn’t mean that there isn’t a lot of dangerous drama going on between Hastings, Arkwright and the ex-wife. You do not want to get caught in the middle of a three-way war. Do you hear me? That isn’t something you can fix with a couple of dumbass affirmations and the application of positive-thinking principles.”
“Dumbass affirmations?”
“Pay attention, Grace. This is your life we’re talking about.”
“Alison, I appreciate your concern, really I do, but I’ve got things under control. Trust me.”
“Said the bunny rabbit just before the wolf ate her.”
Grace smiled. “Little Red Riding Hood.”
“What?”
“Never mind. I take it that you didn’t hear that Julius and I were attacked by a couple of thugs in the garage after the business affair.”
“Good grief.” Now Alison sounded stunned. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, but don’t worry, Julius and I are fine. A little bruised, but okay. Those self-defense exercises finally came in handy. Unfortunately the gorgeous piece of art glass that Julius had to buy at the charity auction was smashed to smithereens. But Julius caught one of the assailants. We’re hoping the cops will get some information that will lead to the arrest of the guy who got away.”
“I can’t believe this. I think I may need to lie down and put a cool cloth on my fevered brow. What in the world are you doing?”
“Don’t know for sure, yet, but it turns out that Julius is a pretty good bodyguard.”
“He is?” Alison sounded bewildered.
“Marines. Then he worked as a fixer for a man who ran construction sites in various parts of the world. Anyhow, I’m in good hands. But don’t tell Mom, okay? Not yet. She’ll freak.”
“I’m freaking.”
“My life will calm down as soon as the cops catch the person who murdered Sprague Witherspoon.”
There was a short pause on the other end of the connection.
“Are they making progress?” Alison asked in her lawyerly accent.
Grace decided to go for a positive spin. “They’re expecting a big break any day now.”
“In other words, no progress.”
“Look, I’ve got to go.”
“Promise me that you’ll be careful,” Alison said.
“Promise. Talk to you later. Love you. Bye.”
Grace ended the connection and looked at Julius.
“My sister.”
Julius watched her with an unreadable expression.
“Yeah, I got that much,” he said. “I take it she doesn’t approve of our relationship?”
“She’ll be okay,” Grace said. “Alison is just somewhat in shock because she got the news through social media instead of from me. Perfectly understandable. And naturally she’s concerned about the lack of progress in the murder investigation.”
“So am I,” Julius said. “But getting back to the subject of our relationship.”
She walked across the room and sat down at the counter. “What about it?”
“You’re okay with it?”
The present is the only thing that is certain. Live it fully.
She smiled. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t okay with our relationship.”
Julius did not look entirely satisfied with her response but he went back to his coffee. She reached for the yellow pad and the pen.
Another phone rang. Julius’s this time. He glanced at the screen and took the call.
“No problem, Eugene. I told you to call me the minute you came up with anything interesting. What have you got?”
Grace put down her pen and waited.
“Thanks,” Julius said. “Yes, this is important. Contact Chief Nakamura at the Cloud Lake PD and give him what you’ve got. He’s coordinating things with Seattle. Good work.”
Julius ended the connection. “That was Eugene, one of the wizards I asked to follow the money.”
“I remember,” Grace asked. “What did he find?”
“I told you I asked the wizards to go deeper into the Witherspoon financial records. They found an interesting item marked Medical Expenses.”
“What’s unusual about that?”
“Every month for the past few months several thousand dollars have been transferred from Witherspoon’s private account to an account in New York. The name on the NYC account is William J. Roper. Eugene says he can’t find a William J. Roper at the address on the account.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Why would Sprague have been paying medical expenses in New York? I don’t think he had any East Coast connections.” Grace stilled. “Wait, is that Nyla’s missing inheritance?”
“No, that’s definitely gone, probably sitting offshore. This looks more like a slow bleed.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Blackmail.”
Her email alert chimed, startling her. She froze, the way she always did lately when she heard an alert. Julius went still, too.
They both looked at her phone. Grace picked it up, looked at the screen and sighed in relief.
“It’s from Millicent,” she said. “Not the stalker.”
“Millicent gets star billing on our suspect list,” Julius said. He looked grim. “What does she want from you?”
Grace pulled up the email and smiled. “Life is short. Eat more chocolate.”
Julius frowned. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It was an office joke. Kristy, Millicent and I used to amuse ourselves thinking up funny affirmations. Millicent came up with that particular slogan. She loves chocolate.”
Julius glanced at his watch. “It’s eight o’clock in the morning. Why is she sending you that email now?”
“I have no idea.”
“Does she make a habit of sending you emails like that?”
“No, she doesn’t. The line about eating chocolate was just a little joke around the office but Millicent isn’t one of those people who emails things like that.” Grace glanced at the email and the time. “It is a little weird, isn’t it?”
“Call her,” Julius said. “Find out why she sent it.”
The cool edge on his words sent a chill through Grace.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” she said. She eyed the phone. “But I will admit that a funny email at this hour is a little out of character for Millicent. Unless—”
“What?”
Grace made a face. “I’ll bet she heard about that little scene last night at the business banquet.”
“The scene between you and Diana?”
Grace cleared her throat. “More likely it was that kiss in front of all those people that got her attention. Alison says there were pictures.”
Julius did not look amused. He was very intent. “Why would Millicent email you a jokey affirmation because I kissed you at that damn banquet?”
“Got a hunch she’d think it was . . . entertaining. Millicent was always teasing me about my rather boring social life.”
“I’m not seeing a connection with chocolate.”
“It’s a female thing.”
“By all accounts, Millicent is very good with money,” Julius said. “A lot of it has recently gone missing. In addition, my financial wizards have uncovered something that looks a lot like blackmail. And now this Millicent, who is so good with money, is sending you funny emails at eight o’clock in the morning. Call her. Find out what’s going on.”
Grace took a breath. “Okay.”
She clicked on Millicent’s contact info—and got dumped straight into voice mail.
“Try emailing her,” Julius said.
Grace looked at him. “You’re very serious about getting in touch with her.”
“We know she just sent that email. She’s on her phone or computer. Go ahead, hit reply.”
Grace tapped out “Everything okay?”
She drank some coffee while she waited for a response. When none came, she tried leaving another voice mail message. Then she tried a text message.
“This is important. Please call.”
There was no response.
“Do you have her address?” Julius asked.
“Yes, of course. She invited Kristy and me over to her apartment occasionally for cocktails and a movie. She lives in the South Lake Union neighborhood.”
Julius got to his feet. “Let’s go see if she’s home.”
“Now?”
“Now.”
“I’m not so sure this is a smart idea, Julius. As you keep reminding me, it’s still early in the morning. Millicent may not be alone. And even if she does answer the door, what, exactly, are we going to talk to her about?”
“Sprague Witherspoon and the missing money,” Julius said. “I’ve got lots of questions.”