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No question about it. The man was incredibly masculine, with a body that was all muscle, skin that was tanned and windblown, and eyes that were as blue as the New Zealand sky on the cover of his book.
She’d have to return this copy to him at their next meeting. In the meantime, she’d get busy finding his son…or the boy June Stone claimed was his son.
Take nothing at face value, Nathan and Lindsay had taught her. Check every fact, at least once, better yet twice. Never cut corners.
With their advice in mind, Nadine started to work, laying out a plan of action that would hopefully lead her to Stephen Stone.
Fifteen minutes later, she was interrupted as Kate walked in. The eight-months-pregnant detective was wearing a cleverly styled trench coat she’d bought from a discount maternity shop, but nothing could hide the huge ball of baby on her tall, normally thin frame.
“Oh, God, I’m tired.” She pulled off the coat and hung it on her usual hanger. Her luxurious red hair was pulled in a messy knot at the back of her head and if she’d applied any makeup that morning, it was now worn off.
Still, she had a beautiful glow, Nadine thought. And she knew Jay felt the same way about his wife. Every time she’d seen them together, he’d been doting on her. “How was the appointment?”
“Everything’s good. Though my doctor says the baby’s head has already dropped into the birth canal, which is early given that the little peach isn’t due for another month.”
Kate frowned as she glanced at Nadine’s computer screen. “What’s that?”
“Just some research I’m doing for Nathan.” The fibbing seemed to come easier each time she had to do it. “He and Lindsay have agreed to give me more case work. So if you ever have something you’d like a hand with—”
“Sure, Nadine. Thanks for the offer.” Kate snagged a bottled juice smoothie from the fridge then headed back to her office, across from the conference room.
Despite her easy agreement, Nadine doubted if Kate was going to throw any work her way. If she did, it would only be basic research work, the kind that could be done from the safety of her desk at the office.
She was dying to get out in the field, performing surveillance, shooting video of suspects, interviewing witnesses…
She wondered if she’d get to do any of that with Patrick O’Neil’s case. She wanted to find his son quickly, but hopefully not too easily. Nathan always said to start a case by listing what you did know, then make a list of what you needed to find out.
She was still working on the first list when Lindsay and Nathan returned from their wedding planning.
“Did you select invitations?” she asked cautiously. The two of them seemed fairly relaxed and cheerful, so hopefully the appointment had gone well.
“They’ll be in the mail by Monday,” Nathan announced happily. “You should get yours next week.”
“While we were out, we also ordered the cake.” Lindsay hung up her jacket, then went for some coffee. “We’re having two—white chocolate mousse cake, and devil’s delight double cocoa cake.”
“Those sound amazing.”
Nathan, who was practically a vegetarian and generally avoided foods laden with fat or sugar, shivered. “Not to me they don’t, but I’m glad you girls are happy.” He kissed Lindsay, and they shared a mushy smile.
Then Lindsay asked if there had been any messages.
Nadine handed one slip of paper to Nathan and two to Lindsay.
“Anyone else call?” Nathan asked.
She swallowed. Here it was—another lie. “No. Just those three.”
“Great.” Lindsay had already ducked back into her office and Nathan was heading for his, when he noticed Patrick O’Neil’s book on her desk. “Hey, I heard O’Neil had something coming out on New Zealand. Where did you find this?”
Oh, crap. “It was a gift,” she improvised.
“Mind if I take a quick look through? Lindsay and I are considering New Zealand for our honeymoon.”
Nadine couldn’t think of any way to refuse that wouldn’t sound suspicious. “Go ahead,” she said, while at the same time berating herself for not hiding the darned book in a drawer. If she was going to keep Patrick’s case secret until it was solved, she was going to have to start being a lot more circumspect.
AT SIX O’CLOCK, NADINE reluctantly turned off her computer and tucked her notes on the O’Neil case into her bottom drawer, under the pair of flat-soled shoes she kept on hand for emergencies.
Patrick’s contract and his check were there, too. She wouldn’t give the check to Nathan—who had taken over the accounting as soon as he became a full partner—until after she’d solved the case and come clean about what she’d done.
What a lot of fun it was going to be to see the expressions on everyone’s faces when they realized she really could handle an entire case all on her own.
Nadine was pumped and didn’t want to stop working, even though it was after five. But she’d promised her mother she would attend one of her charity galas that evening. The cause de jour was saving the rain forest, Nadine thought, with a heavy sigh. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about the rain forest, or the many other worthwhile causes her mother championed.
It was only that, in her opinion, the galas should be scrapped and the thousands of dollars it took to throw those big, fancy parties should be donated to the cause.
Her mother said her views were “shortsighted.”
And maybe she was right. Maybe in ten or twenty years, Nadine would be signing up to join the boards of all these committees and worrying about decorating themes and menus and ticket sales.
But she hoped not.
She and her mother thought differently about so many topics that long ago she’d realized she could either speak her own mind and be estranged from her mother, or keep her opinions to herself.
Because she loved her mother, for the most part Nadine kept her opinions to herself. And attended the parties. And wore the dresses. And dated the men. It was just easier that way.
Two hours later, Nadine was in a strapless black gown in the ballroom of the Waverly Hotel on Park Avenue. The man whose arm she was holding was an up-and-coming lawyer who had done some work for her father.
His name was Trenton Oberg, and he already had three strikes against him.
He wasn’t muscular.
His eyes were brown.
And his hair wasn’t windblown in the slightest.
On the positive side of the equation, the food promised to be good and her cousin Liz was in attendance, so there was sure to be some shocking event or another to entertain the masses. Liz did not enjoy being in the background, ever.
Trenton let go of her arm to snag two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. He handed her one, then clinked his flute against hers. “To a wonderful evening, with a wonderful girl.”
The words were spoken glibly, without a trace of sincerity, and Nadine smiled politely before taking a sip. Then a longer drink. Sometimes champagne was the only thing—
She sputtered as she caught sight of a man with a headful of dark brown hair that glittered with red highlights. He had his back to her, but the color of his hair, not to mention the cut of his suit—those wide shoulders and that impossibly slender waist—made her flashback to the man she’d met in the office today.
But why would Patrick O’Neil be at a high-society charity gala? She pulled on Trenton’s sleeve.
He frowned slightly, then leaned in toward her. “What’s wrong?”
“Do you know who’s speaking tonight?”
He named a local dignitary who had been a friend of her family’s for as long as she could remember.
“Anyone else?”
“Well, there’s that action-adventure travel writer, Patrick O’Neil. But you wouldn’t have heard of him.”
Patrick O’Neil. Oh, Lord. Nadine could feel the skin at the back of her neck tingle. She had to get out of here before he noticed her.
But no sooner did she have that thought than Patrick turned around—and with an uncanny instinct, as if he’d sensed her thinking about him—looked her square in the eyes.
CHAPTER THREE
PATRICK HAD EXPECTED TO BE bored, and he’d been prepared for it. What he hadn’t remembered was how damn uncomfortable formal attire could be. His feet—used to cushioned, merino wool socks and thick rubber soles—ached in these thin leather shoes. And the buttons on his tuxedo shirt seemed to tighten their hold on his neck with every minute.
He scanned the room in search of something that might distract him from his misery. Drinking wouldn’t be smart. Not when he had to speak in about an hour.
Definitely lots of beautiful women here. But he felt little interest in trying to meet one of them. That letter from June…it had really knocked him for a loop.
Wait a minute. Over in the corner. He couldn’t help staring at the pretty brunette with sparkling dark eyes. She was slender and utterly feminine…like a modern-day princess in a strapless dress that showed off flawless skin and an intriguing hint of cleavage.
She had a delicate beauty that set her apart from the many other gorgeous women in this room. But that wasn’t the only reason she’d caught his attention. He had the feeling he’d met her before.
And then it hit him. Hell. She was the investigator from Fox & Fisher. Nadine Kimble.
At the very moment he recognized her, she glanced through the crowd, making contact with his eyes. Or maybe he imagined it, because now, a second later, she was looking just slightly to his left. Lowering her eyes, she took a very long drink from her champagne flute.
She’d looked completely different earlier today in a conservative skirt and high-necked sweater. Her hair had been straight and controlled and her makeup subdued.
But he was now quite certain she was the same woman.
He was already moving through the crowd, curious to find out why a detective from Fox & Fisher was mingling with New York City’s wealthiest and most influential citizens. The tickets for tonight’s event were a thousand bucks a head. Not something that fit into the average woman’s budget, that was for sure.
Perhaps she had a rich boyfriend.
And at just that moment Patrick spotted him—a tall, academic-looking man in his late twenties, with dull eyes and an expression devoid of good humor. As Patrick watched, Nadine stood on her toes to speak into his ear. He nodded, then took her champagne flute and headed off, presumably for a refill.
She was alone now. And though she was no longer looking in his direction, he sensed she was aware of his approach.
Patrick wondered why he felt it was so important to speak to her. Not enough time had passed for her to have turned up any information about his son. Yet, he pressed on, weaving through the knots of people, drawing nearer, finally close enough to touch her lightly on the shoulder.
“MR. O’NEIL.” NADINE SHIVERED, though the man’s touch on her skin was warm. She swiveled ninety degrees, so she was almost, but not quite, facing him. “This is a surprise. I didn’t realize you were tonight’s speaker until just recently.”
She clasped her hands behind her back to hide her trembling. She had to get rid of him. Fast. It wouldn’t take Trenton long to refill their glasses, and when he returned she’d be obligated to make introductions, and her cover would be blown.
She could just imagine what her client would say when he found out her father was one of the owners of this hotel, her mother on the fundraising committee for this event.
“Call me Patrick. Please. Believe me, this isn’t my usual habitat.” He gave a desultory tug to his bow tie. “But my publicist went to a lot of work to arrange this gig and threatened to feed me to lions if I didn’t show up.”
“I guess it’s good timing. With your new book coming out soon and all.” She glanced over his shoulder, relieved to see that Trenton wasn’t yet in the vicinity.
“Exactly. Still, it’s ironic, isn’t it? A big, fancy bash like this—everyone in expensive duds, eating exotic food. If we really cared about the rain forest, we’d be consuming less, not more.”
That was exactly how she felt about the situation. But she couldn’t afford to exchange political and social views with this man. She had to leave. Now.
“I must admit, I was surprised to see you here,” Patrick continued.
She knew he was waiting for an explanation. Suddenly one came to her. She stepped closer to him and in a low voice said, “I’m attending on business. I’m sorry I can’t explain further.”
“Oh.” Patrick’s eyes widened. “You’re undercover, then?”
She nodded.
“Well, I wouldn’t want to mess things up.”
“Exactly. Thanks so much for understanding.” She squeezed his arm, in a gesture of farewell, and though she knew he was in excellent physical condition, she was still surprised to feel the tight resistance of muscle under the soft wool of his tux.
“We’ll talk soon,” she promised, before slipping off into the crowd. Not five steps later, a friend of her mother’s called out her name, but she pretended not to hear as she hurried to put distance between herself and Patrick.
She’d slipped out of that predicament, but only barely. She didn’t dare stick around for the entire evening. She was too well known here, had too many connections.
She would find Trenton and make an excuse to leave. There would be hell to pay from her mother, but there was no way around it.
THE NEXT MORNING NADINE WENT to the office early, despite not having slept well the night before. Granny Kimble had always said a clean conscience was essential to a good night’s sleep, and now Nadine knew that was true. She’d never in her life told as many lies as she had in the past twenty hours.
Seeing Patrick last night had been an unexpected complication, requiring yet more little white lies on her part. She could so easily have been busted. Luckily she’d managed to exit fairly quickly after being spotted.
But part of her wished she could have stayed. She would have liked to hear him speak. Then maybe later, after the dinner, he would have sought her out for a dance. She imagined the band playing something slow and romantic, Patrick’s arms tightening around her back…
Oh, Lord. What was she doing? Daydreaming about her client was definitely not professional.
She was up to her neck in deception, and the only way out was to solve this case, which meant finding Patrick’s son, the sooner the better.
That was why she’d arrived so early. Hopefully she’d have the office to herself for at least an hour before the others arrived. Prior to her pregnancy, Kate had been an early bird, but these days she usually started her days at nine, like Lindsay and Nathan.
Yesterday Nadine had mapped out a strategy and now she reviewed her notes. The first step was checking out Stephen’s mother—Patrick’s old girlfriend—June Stone.
She located June’s obituary on the Internet and read it carefully. June’s parents had predeceased her, but she had been survived by a sister and her family, who lived in Boston, as well as her son, Stephen.
Nadine copied out the sister’s name, then read on. The write-up on June’s life was short, highlighting her career as a professor at Columbia University, and citing her business and masters degrees from NYU. The obit ended on a personal note…“In her spare time June loved skiing with her son and hiking with friends in the Berkshires.”
And that was all the obituary had to offer.
Next, Nadine tracked down June’s last-known address, the apartment in Chelsea. What had happened with her furniture and belongings? Nadine wondered. Did her son have them?
Nadine tucked her hair out of the way as she tried to think what she should do next. Since Stephen didn’t have a listed phone number or address that she could find, it might be smart to try and reach the sister, who would be his aunt.
She was about to start searching for a Boston phone listing, when the door opened and Kate stepped in, her freckled face pink from the cold, or exertion or possibly both.
She paused and sighed, hand on belly. “God, I wish we were on the ground floor.”
