A touch of love (21 page)

Harlan Caine's office was in a two-story business complex shared by a savings and loan and an insurance firm. A modern structure of natural wood and glass, it was beautifully landscaped with wide banks of pink and white azaleas, while towering eucalyptus trees softened the sharply angled roofline. To anyone else coming to visit, the offices were undoubtedly inviting. Aubrey took a deep breath and hoped she wouldn't faint the instant she met Harlan Caine.

"Pretend you're at a seminar," Jesse whispered. He took her arm and gave her a fond squeeze as they entered the developer's door.

A statuesque blonde dressed in a form-fitting black sheath left her desk and came forward to greet them. "Good morning. Are you Ms. Glenn?"

Aubrey nodded and introduced Jesse as a friend. She checked her watch for the hundreth time that morning. "I realize we're a couple of minutes early. Is Mr. Caine running behind schedule?"

"No, but he's taking a long distance call at the moment." Obviously impressed, the blonde sent an eager glance roaming over Jesse's trim build before focusing on his face.

Her smile widened seductively. "I'm Rachel McClure, Mr. Caine's personal secretary. May I get you some coffee or tea while you're waiting?"

Jesse nodded appreciatively, then spoke in a lazy drawl. 'That's real nice of you, ma'am. I'd like coffee with two sugars, and enough cream to make it resemble chocolate milk. How about you, darlin', you want some tea?"

Jesse didn't usually have much accent, but Aubrey was amazed by how natural it sounded coming from his mouth today. She attempted to appear perplexed. "I usually bring my own teabags with me." She opened her roomy purse and made a hasty search. "Oh no, I seem to have forgotten them. Do you have anything exciting, peppermint or orange spice?"

"Yes, which would you like?"

Aubrey licked her lips. "Orange spice I think, no wait, make it the peppermint."

1 Just give me a moment.'' The secretary gestured toward the black leather sofa beneath the windows. "Please make yourselves comfortable. I'm sure Mr. Caine won't be long."

Aubrey took a seat, but Jesse remained standing to study the architect's drawings displayed along the wall. A mix of commercial and residential buildings, they were all handsome structures with clean, crisp lines. When the secretary returned from the workroom off the outer office with their drinks, he gestured toward the first rendering. "Has Mr. Caine built this, or is it just in the planning stage?"

"Those are all future projects. You'll see some of the firm's completed developments in Mr. Caine's office."

"I look forward to it." Jesse took a sip of his coffee. "Perfect. What about this pretty building we're in? Is it one of Caine's?"

Rachel returned to her desk before replying. "No. We merely rent the offices from the savings and loan." She

answered a soft beep on her telephone and smiled graciously. "Mr. Caine will see you now."

Aubrey had to set aside her tea to stand, and then picked up the styrofoam cup. She sent Jesse a frantic glance, but he responded with a good-natured grin and started toward the inner office. Harlan Caine's name was written on the highly polished brass plaque on the door, and as Jesse swung it open, the developer came forward to meet them.

Aubrey had expected the man to look like evil incarnate, but Caine's appearance was deceptively appealing. He was in his early forties, stood just under six feet tall, and had the broad shoulders and narrow hips of a bodybuilder. His dark brown hair was thick and curly, and his brown eyes alight with intelligence. Ruggedly handsome, he was dressed in a pale blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up and light gray slacks, but he could have modeled the jungle fatigues in Soldier of Fortune magazine and been completely convincing.

Harlan flashed a charming smile, but waited until Aubrey introduced Jesse as a close friend before extending his hand. "Glad to meet you, Mr. Barrett. I'm sorry it's under such sad circumstances. I can't believe the police have had such litde success discovering what's become of the Ferrells. I don't know how many people disappear from Los Angeles each year, but the Ferrells have been sorely missed."

Harlan had gripped her hand only briefly, but Aubrey felt a numbing chill beneath the warmth. She placed her cup on his desk and sank down into one of the deep leather chairs facing it. She reached into her purse and fumbled around, searching for her notebook. As she removed it, she switched on the tape recorder. She waited until Harlan had returned to his chair behind his desk, and then gave him a well-rehearsed opening.

"You have the advantage here, Mr. Caine. I've never

met the Ferrells, and it seems unlikely now that I ever will."

"Call me Harlan, please." He picked up a paperclip and began tapping it on his blotter.

"Harlan, then." Aubrey smiled shyly. She repeated her complete lack of expertise in the field of investigation, and apologized profusely for taking his valuable time. "It's just that I want to have something to report, and Lord knows, the police are stumped."

"The crime rate appears to be soaring/' Harlan complained with a sorry shake of his head. "The police are overworked."

"And underpaid for such dangerous work," Aubrey added. "How did you happened to meet Pete Ferrell?"

"I'd advertised for investors, and he was among those who responded. Unfortunately the project he invested in was delayed by the downturn in the economy, and rather than the fast profit he had anticipated, he feared he faced a big loss. The fault wasn't mine, of course, but I was an easy target for his frustration. The police know he was dissatisfied with the way I was running the project, but the fact that he disappeared before it finally got underway was merely a coincidence."

Harlan shrugged slighdy. "The construction industry can certainly get cutthroat at times, but no developer kills off his investors."

He had stated the opinion as fact, and Aubrey nodded as though it made perfect sense. "What became of the funds Pete invested with you?"

"I still have them. It was only a few thousand dollars, but the project will be completed soon, and all my investors will show a healthy profit. I'll just keep Pete's share, and it will continue earning interest until the courts tell me what to do with it."

Aubrey found it difficult not to focus on the paperclip

he was still tapping on the blotter. It made only a soft, hollow tap, but revealed he was far more nervous about speaking with her than he wished her to believe. His lips had a decidedly sensuous fullness that drew her glance to his mouth, and yet repelled her at the same time.

Jesse left his chair to look at the drawings on display along the office walls. "You've built some spectacular projects, Mr. Caine. I did some framing when I was a kid, and I know a good design when I see it."

"Thank you. Perhaps you'd care to visit the construction site where Pete had invested?"

Aubrey turned to send Jesse a questioning glance, and he nodded. "Yes, I do suppose that would make my investigation look more complete," she replied. "I really appreciate your talking with me, Mr. Caine, Harlan. The next time someone presses me for a favor I can't possibly perform well, I am most definitely going to refuse. I teach the creative use of positive imagery, but I sure don't read minds and I couldn't catch a criminal unless he collapsed at my feet with a heart attack."

Aubrey took a last sip of tea, then rose. "If you'll just give us the address of the site, we'll go right over."

Harlan left his chair. "You'd find nothing but noise and dust today. If you're free Sunday afternoon, however, I can give you a personal tour."

Aubrey knew it was a trap the minute he delayed the tour until Sunday, but she smiled as though she were completely charmed by the idea. "That is so nice of you, Harlan. Who knows, I may want to invest in your next project myself."

Harlan took her hand between both of his. "Ah, you've seen through my ploy already, Ms. Glenn. Are you certain you can't read minds?"

Aubrey had to fight the nearly overwhelming urge to yank her hand free of his confining hold, but she had never experienced a more chilling grasp. At the same time,

his palms were sweating slightly, so the frosty feel was entirely in her mind. She forced a laugh and finally managed to pull away, but she immediately reached for Jesse's hand and held on tightly until they reached the safety of the parking lot

"Caine was lying. He was fiddling with the paperclip for the same reason you drum your nails: we made him nervous. He was entirely too pretty, and none of it was natural. I'll bet he even perms his hair. He made my flesh crawl on sight, but shaking hands with him, well—" Jesse's disgust contorted his expression into a hostile sneer. "Tell me what you thought of him first."

Aubrey felt dizzy and weak as though she had been forced to leave her bed during a bout of the flu. "I'd like to go home and take a shower. Caine's touch was colder than death, but his palms were sweating. I agree, we definitely made him nervous, and he had no idea who you were. I tried to appear to be too silly and disorganized to pose a threat. Still, the instant he mentioned it, I got a very bad feeling about Sunday's tour."

4 'So did I. Come on, let's get out of here." Jesse walked Aubrey around to the passenger side of his truck and helped her in, but he did not begin to relax until they had returned to the freeway. "I can't believe Pete ever trusted Harlan Caine. He's just too damn slick. Do you suppose he's sleeping with his secretary?"

Aubrey had been rubbing her hands together in a futile attempt to remove the lingering unpleasantness of the developer's touch. "Please. I don't want to picture such a revolting possibility. Besides, he's undoubtedly too deeply in love with himself to provide much affection."

Jesse chuckled, turned on the radio, and began to hum along with a tune by Alabama. "No," he argued after a lengthy pause. "I'll bet you Harlan is a real accomplished lover. You'd probably describe him as mechanical, but he just might thrill Rachel clear to her toes."

"You want me to throw up in here?" Aubrey warned. She glanced into the sideview mirror and searched the traffic in the lanes behind them, but there were no Corvettes of any color.

"I've become too adept at creative imagery to enjoy imagining that fiend doing anything more than rotting in prison, and it ought to be a small, squalid cell where he has to fight huge rats for the putrid rations."

Jesse shot her a horrified glance. "I don't believe the criminal justice system in California allows for anything that primitive, but it's all he deserves. I was hoping a meeting with Caine wouldn't bring doubts as to his guilt, and it sure didn't. I've never had such a negative reaction to anyone before."

"Neither have I. Which will count for absolutely nothing in court."

"True, but it helps to know we're on the right track."

Aubrey also trusted their gut reactions to Harlan Caine. "Do you suppose we ought to call Detective Heffley and alert her to our plans?"

"So she can screw them up? Hell, no."

"We'll actually have a plan by Sunday?"

Jesse winked at her. "Of course, and a damn good one, too. Just leave everything to me."

Still feeling slightly queasy, Aubrey was prepared to do just that for the moment. "Let's stop for lunch on the way home. I need to sit in the sunshine awhile and pretend everything's normal."

That sounded awfully good to Jesse, as well. "I guess I have turned your life upside down, haven't I?"

Aubrey's smile was faint. "Inside out is more like it, but—"

"But I'm worth it?" Jesse teased.

"Don't push your luck, cowboy. Do you know where the Crocodile Cafe is on Lake Avenue?"

Jesse gave it a moment's thought and then nodded. "Sure do." He was afraid the popular restaurant would be crawling with yuppies in their shirtsleeves who had escaped their stultifying office jobs for the midday meal, but the

restaurant's clientele included women out shopping with their friends, mothers and grandmothers with small children, young couples paying more attention to each other than the menu, and men of all ages and descriptions.

As soon as they were shown to a corner table on the patio, Jesse stretched out his legs and decided he might not move until sundown. He watched Aubrey scan the menu and hoped the place offered something more substantial than alfalfa sprout and avocado sandwiches. When he finally consulted the menu, he was astonished to find the selections among the most varied he had ever encountered.

"I can't decide between the pizza with barbequed chicken, sausage, and pepperoni, and the oakwood grilled steak," he said. "What are you having?"

"I'm awfully fond of their sauteed eggplant, but it's a lot for lunch, so maybe I'll just have a small Caesar salad."

Jesse couldn't blame Aubrey for not having much appetite, but if anything, meeting Harlan Caine had given him an almost desperate desire for the energy to defeat him. When a friendly young man appeared to take their order, he chose the steak and the fresh-squeezed lemonade, while Aubrey asked for the salad and passion fruit iced tea. When the waiter left, Jesse cast an admiring glance at the blue sky.

"The sky is always this sparkling clear in Sedona."

The wistful note in his voice made Aubrey's heart catch in her throat. She hated to think he was eagerly looking forward to telling her good-bye and had to fortify herself with a gulp of water before she spoke. "You're anxious to go home, aren't you?"

"I've never cared much for cities," Jesse confided easily. "There're just too many people bumping into each other on the sidewalks, and way too much noise. I guess you must like it here, though."

"I grew up here, but I'm more often at home alone than out mingling with crowds on the streets/' Their conversation flowed easily, but while Jesse was intent upon comparing city and country living, Aubrey found herself simply studying him. He was serious one minute, then flashed a ready grin the next and began to tease her with a gende humor. His comments were endearing rather than made at her expense, and she responded with relaxed smiles.

They broke off their conversation when their meals were served, and as Aubrey took a bite of salad, she noticed the women at a nearby table were eyeing Jesse with more than merely appreciative glances. There were exchanging giggles and hushed whispers which were clearly centered on him. Jesse, however, was intent upon eating his steak, and hadn't noticed them. Aubrey certainly wasn't going to point them out, although she knew he would enjoy their attention.