Secrets and Seduction: 5 Romance Novels (37 page)

Roger nodded, the lines around his mouth easing a little. He ran a hand through his thin hair, disarraying his perfect style. “But you’re going to lose another day chasing handwriting samples instead of working?”

Christian chewed on his lip while he weighed his priorities. Gabrielle could pick up samples by herself — she didn’t need him along for that. They’d asked their questions yesterday, so she wouldn’t learn anything new today. While Roger needed his help a great deal. But it was his life, his freedom on the line. He needed to do this investigation with her.

“I should be available this afternoon to work on the rest of the projects I took home.”

The remaining anger drained from Roger’s face. When it was gone, Roger’s face looked strained.

“The sample?” Gabrielle said.

Roger glared at her. “Hell.” He grabbed a tablet and ripped off a sheet. After he scribbled furiously for several minutes, he handed the paper to them.

“Here. Take it and get the hell out of my office.”

Christian took the sheet and headed for the door. Somehow this visit was just as detrimental on his and Roger’s friendship as the first one had been. The only way he could see to mend the rift was to get Barrett and Ziko back on its feet again.

Retracing their steps to Brittany, Gabrielle slid a sheet of paper across to the receptionist.

“We need another sample of your handwriting,” she said.

Brittany glared at Gabrielle. “I already did this.”

“We need you to do it again,” Christian said.

“It’s not part of my job.”

“Neither is screwing Paul Ziko,” Gabrielle said.

Brittany paled, then her face suffused with red and her eyes narrowed. “Who told you that?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just give us the sample.”

“If it was true, and I’m not saying it is, what I do on my personal time is my own business.”

Christian leaned closer to her. “Not when it involves subcontractors and not when it’s my brother. My married brother.”

She tossed her head. “People think just because I’m shaped the way I am that I sleep around.” Her eyes slid to Gabrielle’s smaller breasts with a sneer. “I think they’re jealous.”

“Just write.” Christian had seen and sampled what Gabrielle had to offer and had been amply satisfied. Although he’d never made it with Brittany, he couldn’t imagine being satisfied in bed with her. Not after he’d been one with Gabrielle.

Brittany snatched a pen from her desk and scribbled signatures on the paper. “There. If there’s nothing else, Mr. Ziko, I have work to do. We all do here.”

As Christian walked to the fax machine with Gabrielle following, he made a mental note to replace Brittany.

Gabrielle faxed the two samples to Kernfelter, and with a last glare from Brittany, they were on their way.

The difference between the two women was startling. He’d thought Brittany open and friendly, and Gabrielle reserved and secretive. Now he wondered if Brittany’s friendliness was the false front, hiding at the very least the morals of an alley cat. Gabrielle’s facade, on the other hand, protected a caring and passionate woman, easily hurt. She was secretive, but it was to protect herself. Of the two, he preferred the quiet depths of Gabrielle.

Christian tried Paul’s cell phone on the way to the car, but got his voice mail. He left a message for his brother to contact him as soon as possible. A second call to Paul’s office got a busy signal.

“Paul’s not answering. Bryce’s office is off 15 Mile in Sterling Heights.”

Thunder rumbled off to the west. As Christian settled into the passenger seat, he remarked on it. “It’s going to rain again.”

“Then maybe we can catch half our suspects waiting in their cars for it to stop.” She put the car in gear and headed for the freeway.

Christian didn’t feel any easier going into Bryce’s office today than he had yesterday. He almost wished Gabrielle had come in with him instead of waiting in the car. She said she’d get better cell phone reception outside, but he thought she wanted as much space between them as she could get for as long as she could get it.

Bryce looked as perfect and cold as he had the other day. “You want to tell me about the accident and your investigation?” It wasn’t a question, even though it was phrased as one.

Christian gave him a rundown of everything that had happened. “Can you find out if all the Densmore records were destroyed?”

“I’ll talk to the county prosecutor. DesignCorp has been subpoenaed to present the test results, so they’ll have to provide some type of paperwork.”

“Somebody doesn’t want me cleared.”

“It does seem too coincidental happening within hours of you beginning your investigation.”

“If Gabrielle and I had used our heads, we could have faxed the signatures from each location. Then we might have a suspect.”

Bryce’s face had shown no emotion at all through Christian’s tale. Now he sat back with his hands steepled in front of his chest. “Have you thought of anyone who might have done this to you?”

Christian sighed. “Before this week, I wouldn’t have thought it of anybody. But now?” He ran his hands over his face. “Now there are a lot of people angry at me. I’m seeing people act in ways that disturb me. Even my secretary has become someone else. Hell, the brother of one of the people who died threatened me in front of the press yesterday.”

“You sound disillusioned.”

“Maybe I am. Gabrielle accused me of wearing rose-colored glasses. Not anymore.”

“Don’t fall apart on me.”

A spurt of anger shot through Christian. “I won’t. I’m not as fragile as you think.”

“I hope not because we’re going to trial the day after tomorrow.”

Christian felt like he’d been speared in the gut. “What?”

Bryce leaned forward in his chair. “Your case has been pushed ahead. The mayor, city council, even the state senator want a fall guy for the Densmore. They think they’ll get one with your trial.”

Christian swallowed the nerves that threatened to rocket him right out of his chair. “Can’t you ask for a delay or something? We need time to investigate.”

“I already tried asking for a delay and was shot down.”

“Are you ready?”

“I’d hoped to have another suspect from the handwriting samples. We need to point the finger of suspicion away from you. I don’t know if Kernfelter’s testimony alone will sway a jury.”

Christian had to ask. “What are my chances?”

“I won’t lie to you. Without another suspect, we’re dependent on a sympathetic jury. But between the press coverage and the politicians rallying behind a reelection cause, we don’t stand much chance of that.”

Christian swallowed. After meeting with Kernfelter, he’d felt he had a chance. “Thanks for telling me.” It was more imperative than ever that he find whoever was responsible. He didn’t have a moment to waste.

He made his way out to the parking lot and slid into the rental car. “Did you reach anyone?”

“I left a message for Bryan Tuckerman. I’ve got an appointment with Hoepflmeier, Dortmouth and Cranston at one o’clock. But I still can’t reach your brother. If we knew which job site he was at, we could just stop by there.”

Thunder rumbled loudly overhead and Christian gritted his teeth. Paul was probably scrambling to get as much work done as possible before the next storm hit.

“My lawyer said we go to trial the day after tomorrow. There’s political pressure to get a verdict. We’re going to have to split up so we can interview everyone today.”

“But you can’t drive.”

“I know. Bryce’s secretary is finding me a limo service.”

As they divided the suspects, the first sprinkles plopped fat and wet on the windshield. Christian would take the construction sites while trying to track down his brother through their mutual subcontractors. Gabrielle would tackle Christian’s top competitors and the Republic Steel employee at his home. By the time they were finished, the rain had become a steady downpour. Bryan Tuckerman called and confirmed he was at the construction site in Warren waiting out the rain.

Then there was nothing left to plan. All that was left were words that had nothing to do with his innocence and everything to do with what lay between them.

“Gabrielle … ”

“Don’t. I need to get moving if we hope to have a case for you.”

Damn it, there was so much to discuss, but now wasn’t the time or place to do so. “Call me if you find out anything.”

“I will.”

Still Christian hesitated, staring into her face, willing her to look him in the eye, but she wouldn’t. He climbed out into the rain and was soaked by the time he reached the foyer. He watched Gabrielle drive off, her taillights disappearing around the corner of the building, and he felt like he’d let something precious slip through his fingers.

By the time Christian got Bryan Tuckerman’s signatures, fat drops of rain splattered on the muddy ground around him, signaling the ten-minute reprieve was over. He left what cover the building frame provided and started carefully across the slick expanse of mud. As he headed past pallets of supplies, a rumble above him sounded like thunder, but then he caught movement from the corner of his eye. The stack of white PVC pipes tumbled down toward him.

Christian tried to leap out of the way, but slipped in the mud. As he fell on one knee, grunting with pain, he heard a shout. Then one of the PVCs slammed into his shoulder, knocking him sideways. He rolled to avoid the rain of heavy pipes. Their hollow thunder was deafening as they tumbled around him. Twice more he was struck, unable to avoid the cascade. He covered his head, hoping that would prevent serious injury. He kept his body small while the white pipes stacked up around him. Finally, the thunder ceased and blessed silence reined. He felt bruised and battered, but he was alive and none of the pipes had struck him in the head.

The shouts got louder and closer. PVC pipes were dragged from around him. Hands grabbed him and hauled him to his feet.

“Are you all right?” a man asked him.

Christian rotated his shoulder, wincing. “I think so.”

“What happened?” someone shouted.

“PVC broke loose,” another man said.

“Where’s your hard hat?” a man resembling a drill sergeant asked.

“It’s Christian Ziko,” Bryan Tuckerman said, shouldering through the crowd. “He had business with me.”

“You cursed or something, Ziko?” the big-chested man asked. “Do things collapse everywhere you go now?”

The group grew silent as slowly all of them looked from Christian to the top of the stacked pallets where the PVC pipe had been. Construction accidents happened all the time. People were in a hurry, they weren’t careful, safety measures failed. But nothing had ever happened to Christian before. Two accidents in two days was too much coincidence for him. But could he prove the pipes weren’t an accident?

In this rain, any evidence was probably washed away. But he had to start somewhere.

“Who’s in charge here?” Christian asked.

“I am,” the drill sergeant answered. “Take a break, you guys. We’ll start working again as soon as the rain stops.”

The construction workers drifted away toward their cars and trucks.

“I’m Mack McKenna,” the other man identified himself. “I’m foreman here.”

“I don’t think this was an accident.” Christian waved at the pipes on the ground. “I think somebody just tried to hurt me or worse.”

“Nobody here knows you except Tuckerman.”

“I don’t think it was your crew. I think somebody followed me here and tried to take advantage of the rain.”

“You’ve made a lot of enemies, Ziko. I’m one of them.”

“I didn’t do it. I’ve been investigating, trying to find out who did. Do you think the cops will be able to find any evidence in this rain?”

McKenna looked around the pallets and stared at the mud. “I doubt it. You want me to call them anyway?”

Christian sighed. The rain was soaking his clothes, and he shivered. Maybe it was chill, maybe shock that he’d come close to serious injury. “Let me contact my lawyer first. We can sit in my car while I make the call.”

He scooped up the plastic portfolio, blessing Bryce’s secretary for thinking of it. McKenna followed him to the limo, where the interior was blessedly quiet and dry. Christian speed dialed Bryce.

“Have you found something, Christian?” his lawyer asked when he came on the line.

“Someone just tried to kill me.”

“What?” Bryce’s voice snapped with unexpected emotion.

Christian described what happened, then added, “Bryce, I don’t think the car accident yesterday was an accident.”

“Shit.”

“It seems like somebody doesn’t want me to uncover the truth.”

“You’re sure it’s not paranoid delusion?”

Christian sat straighter as anger burned through him. “Who told you that?”

“Paul called a little while ago. He thought you might be delusional.”

“I’m not. I’ll talk to you after the police get here.”

When Christian explained the danger to the limo driver, the limo’s owner wasn’t willing to risk his property. The driver agreed to take Christian to the hospital to be checked for injuries. Christian called Gabrielle to pick him up at the hospital. When he hung up, a feeling of relief washed over him. He’d get to spend more time with her. It made no sense — he was afraid of her touch, but he still wanted her near.

“I’m going to take a hot shower.” Christian’s gait was stiff and slow as he entered his condo in Bloomfield Hills. “Maybe that will make me feel better.”

“I’ll have your food ready in the kitchen.” Gabrielle didn’t want to think about him naked in the shower. That was the last place they’d been relatively happy. That had all changed when he’d found out she was psychic.

With the sound of the shower running, Gabrielle busied herself setting out the fast food they’d bought. While looking for dishes, she found three prescription bottles dated several days ago. Sean Bergman’s name fairly jumped out at her from the labels. They were drugs she’d never heard of. What disease did he have that required three types of medication? All she could think of was AIDS. Remembering Christian making love to her without a condom caused her to break out in a cold sweat.