Golden Lies (30 page)

Shaking her head, she pushed the disturbing thoughts to the back of her mind. She needed to concentrate on the present, not the past. Although, she might have to bring up that past in order to get to the present. Damn, she was going in a circle.

She raised her hand and rapped on her grandfather's door. A moment later, she heard his gruff, "Come in."

He stood in front of the fireplace, poised to hit a golf ball into a can of some sort. He raised a hand when she began to speak, and she waited patiently while he sank the putt.

"There," he said with satisfaction, reaching down to take out the ball. He finally looked at Paige. "What's wrong?"

Okay, so it wasn't the warmest greeting. She didn't need warmth; she needed answers. "Nothing is wrong. I just wanted to talk to you about something."

"Did something happen at yesterday's press conference?"

"I don't know. I haven't heard anything. But that's not what—"

"You weren't there?" he interrupted with annoyance. "Why weren't you there?"

"Mother wanted to handle it, the way she always does."

"Goddammit, Paige, you're the Hathaway, not your mother. When are you going to start acting like one?"

She was taken aback by the question. "I, uh, Mother is the CFO of the company. She outranks me."

"You let her outrank you."

"Excuse me?"

He sat down on the arm of the couch, golf club still in hand. "I haven't stepped down as CEO because you're not ready to step up. Maybe you never will be. Maybe you've got more of your father in you than I thought."

"I don't understand. I can't just take over. I don't even have a title."

"You don't need a title. You're a Hathaway."

"All I've been doing is planning parties."

"And that's all you will do until you stand up for yourself."

She stared at him in bemusement. "I didn't know you wanted me to."

"You're all I've got," he said in a tone that didn't sound exactly loving or appreciative. In fact, it was almost an insult. "If your father had had a son, that would have kept our line alive, but no, he had to have girls," Wallace continued. "He couldn't even do that for me."

His words cut her to the quick. "I'm sorry we were such a disappointment."

"You don't have to be. You've been well educated, well trained. You know what to do, so do it. Prove you're worthy of being a Hathaway."

She didn't know what to say, how to react to the challenge he'd thrown down before her.

"Well, cat got your tongue? Speak up, girl."

"I came here to ask you about something else." She needed more time to think about what he'd just told her. "There's a dragon statue that my father wanted to acquire. We got it in the store on Tuesday afternoon, but it disappeared along with Dad on Wednesday."

"Do you think I'm a fool, Paige? I'm eighty-two years old, for goddamn sake, but I can figure out what's going on in my own company. Your father was an idiot for taking it out of the store. Insurance won't cover the loss." His angry brown eyes held not a hint of concern for the son he'd almost lost.

"That's true, but we can't change what happened. Right now I'm more interested in trying to find the statue."

"How the hell will you do that? Whoever took it probably sold it the same day."

"Sold it to who? Do you have any ideas?"

"Could be thousands of people. Ask your father. He's the Chinese art expert."

"He doesn't remember what happened or why he even went to Chinatown." She watched her grandfather's face carefully, wondering if he knew about Jasmine and Alyssa, but he didn't give a thing away. "It's possible that this statue," she continued, "might have been part of a set consisting of two dragons and a box. There's a legend, a curse, the whole bit. I've been reading up on the subject."

"There are always legends, always curses. What else have you got?" He stood up and placed the golf ball back on the carpet in preparation for making another putt.

"Ned Delaney. Do you know who he is?"

"I don't think so," he said.

"He was a security guard at Hathaway's. I saw a photograph of the two of you together."

"I've taken a million photos with a million different employees."

"He was also the owner of the dragon in question. His wife, Nan Delaney, is the one who brought it to us. It seems an odd coincidence that he would have worked for us a long time ago."

"A lot of people have worked for us over the years."

"Not people who have priceless artifacts discovered in the attics of their modest homes. This is not a man who collected antiques or Chinese art. He had nothing except this statue, and no one seems to know where it came from." She paused, debating whether or not to ask a question that had been bothering her for some time now, a question she didn't really want to put into words because it made her feel disloyal to Riley. But that was wrong. Her loyalty was to her family. She had to remember that. "Are you sure that Hathaway's never owned a statue like this a long time ago?" she finally asked.

"You think this Delaney stole the statue from us?"

"It did occur to me, yes."

He focused on his putt, sending the ball into the can. "Interesting theory."

"Unfortunately, the computer records at the store only go back ten years and the files another ten. Judging by the photo I saw, Mr. Delaney must have worked for Hathaway's in the fifties or sixties. And I don't think we still have those records anywhere, do we?"

"No. That's that, then," Wallace replied. "Anything else?"

"You're sure you don't remember the dragon statue?"

"I've bought and sold thousands of statues in my lifetime, Paige. Not many stand out in my mind."

"I guess not." She turned toward the door, but his voice stopped her.

"What happened to this Delaney guy? Is he dead?"

"No, he has Alzheimer's. He's in an assisted living place. Riley says he doesn't remember much."

"Too bad." Wallace picked up the golf ball and set it up again. She watched him measure the distance to the hole. Then he stroked the ball. It missed by a good two inches. Wallace Hathaway was nowhere near as steady as he usually was. Paige wondered why.

An hour later, Paige was still thinking about her conversation with her grandfather as she leaned over the pool table, trying to concentrate on the shot in front of her. It was nice to focus on something simple for a change. All she had to do was hit the ball into the corner pocket. She slid the cue between her fingers and took the shot. It was perfect. She stood back, admiring her handiwork.

"Not bad," Jerry said as he stepped into the back room of Fast Willy's in search of empty glasses. "But don't you think it's kind of pathetic that you're here all by yourself on a Saturday afternoon shooting pool?"

"It's not nice of you to point that out."

"How's your father?"

"He's much better, almost ready to go home. I'm incredibly relieved."

"Are you?" Jerry picked up two empty beer bottles and set them on the tray. "Then why are you shooting pool today? You usually only do that when you've got some problem on your mind that you can't figure out how to solve."

"I do not have one problem, I have many problems," she replied.

He gave her a thoughtful smile. "Any involving that guy who followed you here earlier this week?"

"That is none of your business."

"Come on, Paige. Give a little. This is your old pal Jerry you're talking to."

She let out a sigh. "I think I'm falling for him."

"Does he feel the same way?"

"Who can tell? I know he wants me, but the rest, all the emotional stuff, I don't think it's going to happen." She sighed. "But my love life or lack thereof isn't really the problem. It's my family, it's my job, it's what I want to do with the rest of my life."

"That's going to take a lot of games of pool to figure out."

"Tell me about it." She set her cue back in the rack. "What's up with you?"

"Actually, I'm thinking about moving on. I have a job offer, if you can believe it."

"Seriously?"

"Yes. I know that surprises you but I don't want to tend bar forever."

"What kind of job is it?"

"Computer programming. It's in Seattle. And I've always wanted to live in the Pacific Northwest."

She frowned. "Since when?"

"For a while," he said with a shrug.

"It rains all the time in Seattle."

"I like the rain."

She snapped her fingers. "That's not it. There's a girl there."

His freckled face flushed at her statement. "Maybe," he conceded.

"No maybe about it. Is it serious?"

"There's some of the emotional stuff, as you called it, involved."

She threw her arms around him and gave him a big hug. "I'm so happy for you."

"All right, don't get mushy."

She felt mushy. She felt like crying. She was happy for Jerry, but it seemed like everyone was moving on except her. Why was she stuck in one place?

"I need a drink," she said as she let him go.

"I'll get you one."

"Don't bother; I've got it covered," Riley said. He walked into the back room with a beer in one hand, a diet Coke in the other.

Her jaw dropped at the sight of him. "Did you follow me again?"

"Actually, I came on a hunch. Couldn't find you at home, at the hospital, or at work. Process of elimination."

"You went to all those places?" she asked, amazed at his persistence.

"I called around."

"Oh." So he hadn't tried that hard; but he had tried a little. And here he was, looking even better than he had the day before. And she wanted ... she wanted a thousand things that all had to do with kissing and touching him and getting really, really close. She was still kicking herself for not making love to him when she'd had the chance. Maybe she should have thrown caution to the wind instead of playing it safe the way she always did.

"I don't think you two need me anymore," Jerry said with a laugh, since Paige seemed unable to do anything but stare at Riley. "And, Paige, I don't think you're going to need to play as much pool as you think."

"What did he mean by that?" Riley asked when they were alone.

"Nothing. What's up?"

"How's your father?" Riley asked.

"Getting better. He's coming home tomorrow. He still has no memory of what happened, though." She paused. "You don't think he's faking, do you?"

"You know him better than I do," he said, his expression carefully neutral.

Did she know her father? She used to think so. Now she wasn't nearly as sure. "I suppose if he was trying to cover up going to Jasmine's apartment, he might claim a memory loss. I'm not sure. I'll ask him about it when he gets stronger. I don't want to put too much pressure on him too soon."

"That's understandable. Why don't we sit down?" he suggested as a group of men came back to play pool. He chose a table by the window. "I think we need to talk."

"Yes," she said, joining him at the table. "I spoke to my grandfather today. I asked him if he'd met your grandfather."

"And his reply?"

"He said the name sounded familiar. Then he pointed out to me that he's eighty-two years old, and he's met a lot of people in his life. He also said that he's sold thousands of statues in his time and none stand out as the one we're looking for."

"That sounds about as productive as my conversation with my grandfather." Riley took a sip of his beer. "Although, he did ramble on about someone named Wally. I wondered if Wally was short for Wallace, but my grandmother said she didn't think so."

"I don't either," she said with a shake of her head. "I can't imagine my grandfather allowing anyone to call him
Wally
."

"My grandmother did mention that Ned worked at Hathaway's when they were first married, which would explain the photograph."

"Yes. And it might also explain where your grandfather got the statue," she said.

His gaze narrowed. "What are you talking about? You think that statue was owned by your family?"

"It's a possibility, isn't it? I mean, think about it. Where would your grandfather have gotten such a piece?"

"Just what are you accusing my grandfather of doing? Stealing from Hathaway's?" he demanded, protective fire in his eyes now.

"I didn't say that."

"Yes, you did. I knew you'd go down that road, Paige. It just came a little sooner than I thought."

"What came sooner?"

"The choice between your family and mine."

"I'm not making a choice; I'm just pointing out some things."

He jumped to his feet, obviously angry.

"Riley, wait. Don't go."

He paused at the door, his blue eyes as cold as steel when he looked at her. "Why not?"