Foxy Roxy (19 page)

Henry said, “If his will names his girlfriend, I can think of a few family members who’d have a motive to kill Julius. They wouldn’t want such valuable property to leave the family.”

“Why would he pay the Delaneys to shoot
at
her? Not just shoot her dead?”

“Maybe he regretted giving love tokens to her. Wanted to convince her to give back his gifts?”

“And he decided to bully her to get them back? That doesn’t make sense.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“I mean, it’s totally nuts. They’re lying. I’d go back now to find out, except the snake is probably still loose Hyde’s wife’s still in the picture, right?”

“Unless she goes to jail for torching the house.”

Roxy gave a wry laugh. “Anybody who can afford the right lawyer can stay out of jail these days.”

“Miss Abruzzo, your prejudices are showing again.”

She stopped for a traffic light and grabbed a pack of gum from her jeans. She thumbed out a stick and offered it to Henry. “You don’t know anything about me.”

He accepted the gum. She peeled a stick for herself and folded it into her mouth. He could see her thinking. He realized his own prejudices were showing, too. He hadn’t expected her to be smart. And despite her rough edges, he was starting to like her.

She said, “Tell me about the Hyde family politics.”

“Have you heard of attorney-client privilege?”

She ignored that. “Julius Hyde wasn’t a bad dude. He liked his pleasures, that’s all, and he could afford them. Why would somebody want to bump him off? He never really harmed anybody.”

“Depends on what you call harm. I just learned he tried to stage his own mother’s accidental death.”

“Oh, yeah? That’s not nice.”

“No, it isn’t. And in addition to physical harm, say, done with a baseball bat, there’s financial harm.”

“Financial harm. Twenty years ago, there would have been a list of guys who’d want to kill the man who closed the steel mill. Not now.”

“But Julius never ran any of the Hyde businesses. His father was the steel magnate. His brother runs Hyde Communications.”

“What are you saying? Wait—when Julius died, what happens? Do his kids get his money right away? Do not pass go, collect your two hundred dollars?”

“It’s his share of his mother’s estate that’s got the most value. And his share doesn’t necessarily go to his children. Julius has two brothers, plus two sisters. Don’t forget about them.” Henry couldn’t afford to forget about the dragon sisters. They demanded their fair share. “And nobody gets money immediately. All the lawyers will start revising the estate plan.”

“Aren’t you the lawyer?”

“In a family like this, everybody has his own lawyer. Plus shared lawyers. And lawyers to watch the other lawyers.”

“What about more girlfriends? He thought he could get away with anything, right?” Roxy asked. “A guy like Julius only needs a checkbook and a Viagra prescription to keep a lot of women happy.”

“As far as I know, he had the manicurist, that’s it. But of course, I can’t be sure.”

“What does his wife say? If anyone knows the truth about that, it’s probably the wife.”

“I think Monica chose to turn a blind eye.”

“Until she found out about Kaylee, and then she lit a match.” Roxy slid the car through a stop sign and drove into a park. “Maybe she’s the one who paid the Delaneys to take potshots at Kaylee. They’re got to be lying. She has the most to gain from Julius’s death, right? The wife gets half of everything and the kids fight over the rest?”

“That’s usually how it goes, but not in this tax bracket. Monica won’t go hungry, though, that’s for sure.”

“Except she torched the house. That has to jeopardize her piece of the family pie, surely.”

“Depends. Quentin is focused on the price of Hyde Communications stock, which is affected by bad publicity. As long as Monica is kept under wraps, the stock price is good. But once his brother is buried and a decent interval is past, Quentin will go back to gobbling up any small communications company he can get his hands on. For which he will need capital. And he’ll want Monica’s share of Julius’s inheritance. That’s my guess, anyway. He’s sticking close to her now and making a show of caring about her, but she’s going to be a grease spot on his driveway before it’s all over.”

“So Quentin’s a viable suspect, too. He wanted Julius’s share of the estate.”

“And he has the right personality.”

“He could pull a trigger?”

“Yes,” Henry said. “I think he could. For all his Wall Street talk, he’s basically a bastard who’ll do anything to build his empire.”

“Another CEO with a heart of gold.” In a murmur, Roxy added, “His brother Trey always needs money, too.”

“But does Trey have the stomach for killing?”

“For him,” Roxy said, “it would have been panic, more likely. He’s emotional, impulsive. The kind of guy who wouldn’t plan a murder. But only an idiot would try to pull off an execution will all those people around. Maybe it wasn’t planned at all. Maybe it was a crime of passion.”

“Monica’s impulsive. As setting fire to the house shows.”

Roxy turned to him. “Could she have killed her husband?”

“If angry enough, maybe.”

“Kaylee could have been angry enough,” Roxy said.

“Oh?”

“She’s a hot-tempered chick.” Then Roxy shook her head. “But I don’t see her having the stones to shoot her boyfriend. I see a lot of women who get in over their head with men. Hardly any of them can pull the trigger. Maybe she had some kind of conspiracy going with Trey, though. Jeez, they all have motives. It makes me dizzy.”

Henry sighed. “Everybody wants Dorothy’s money. And she’s not even dead yet. Funny, because she’s the one who’d be easiest to kill. A pillow over her face, and
poof!
You’d have your inheritance.”

Roxy glanced at him measuringly.

Henry caught himself, chagrined to find he’d mused so much aloud.

Roxy gave him a cold smile. “Interesting how the other half lives.”

“Don’t pretend the people in your world don’t squabble about money.”

“Sure, we fight about money. And for us, it’s just as important, maybe more. But our everyday concerns are more about the work we do, the people we know, the family we protect. Not about which brother or sister we can screw over to get what we want. Even those lying scumbags, the Delaneys. See them? Together through thick and thin. Not like the Hyde brothers.”

Roxy braked the car and pulled over onto a grassy area. In the distance, the buildings of the downtown rose between a gap in the trees, looking like a storybook city. None of the grit showed from this distance. Around the car, rolling hillsides converged on the curving asphalt road. Closer, the ivory towers of a couple of universities glowed. It was a bucolic spot in the middle of the city.

“Where are we?” he asked.

Roxy shut off the engine and unfastened her seat belt. She said. “A park. I come here to let off steam.”

Henry turned to face her. “What kind of steam?”

She grinned. “I’m not exactly America’s Sweetheart. I like sex. That doesn’t surprise you.” She rolled down her window and spat out her gum. Rolling it back up, she said, “Sometimes I take guys to my house. Sometimes, I go to theirs. But some afternoons, I’ve been known to come here.”

He felt himself respond at once. She must have guessed, because she smiled. “I could take care of business in the car, Henry, but that would be all about you. It’s too cramped for me to get what I want. I need more space.”

“You have this kind of rendezvous well choreographed. Is the gum part of your routine?”

She unzipped her leather jacket and let it fall open. “I don’t like bad breath.”

Henry could imagine what her mouth would taste like right now. How her strong body might feel against his. He could see her contemplating the same about him. In a few seconds, he wasn’t going to be able to conceal his willingness to try.

With a smile, he said, “If you’re trying to turn me on, you win.”

She reached over and unfastened the top button on his shirt, allowing her fingertips to linger at his throat. “Here’s what I’m saying, Henry. If you come around again, we could make each other feel good and have some laughs. But I don’t fall in love or let any man use me—for sexual gratification or whatever you’re trying to learn about the murder. If that’s cool for you, okay. If not, this is good-bye.”

The fact that she kept her emotions out of the way was enough incentive for Henry to spit the gum out of his mouth. He stuck it on the gear shift and reached for her. “I could be cool with that.”

She met him halfway. She had a lush mouth and a sure tongue. Her curves felt softer than he expected, and a ripple of warmth seemed to pass through her body as he touched her. Hot-blooded, that was Roxy Abruzzo. Even better, a laugh bubbled in her throat. And he liked thinking maybe she could lose her cool head just a little with him.

“What the hell,” she said. “C’mon, Henry.”

She had a condom, and she made a show of putting it in her mouth. She held it poised for a heartbeat between her teeth, her eyes alight. He hardly felt it slip on, so swiftly did it happen, with the mane of her hair in his lap and the suction of her mouth exquisitely strong. Everything happened very fast after that. Instinct told him to hold her head to guide her, but there was no need. He was out of his league. Instead he held on to the car for dear life while she performed an intensely powerful act. In the middle of it, Henry heard a whimper and realized it was his.

No stardust and angels singing celestial praise. Just mind-bending, top quality sexual performance.

When he was on the brink of nuclear detonation, she sat up and crawled over the gear shift, telling him what she intended to do next in a husky voice and laughing at his expression. Probably one of near delirium. While he braced himself, Roxy slid one long leg out of her jeans and neatly straddled him. Henry groaned as she sank down on him, hot and sweet. She was a female force against his belly, her thighs gripping his, her breasts firm against his chest. Supple and powerful, she was an animal. He was her prey.

He forgot to be a partner, forgot about what she might prefer, and let it happen. His hands on her tight ass, that was all, he gasped for breath and hoped he’d survive.

He came too fast, of course, before she’d found a rhythm that pleased her, and when he remembered himself, Henry felt the heat leave his penis and flush his face instead.

She didn’t seem to mind. She hadn’t broken a sweat, but she smiled against his mouth anyway.

“Interesting.” She rocked back on him, keeping him snug inside with admirable muscle control. But Henry felt trapped, actually. And both of her hands were linked around his neck as if she considered whether or not she should snap a few vertebrae as long as she was in the neighborhood.

He tried to sound collected. “Interesting?”

“Yeah.”

She released him slowly, perhaps to prove she was still in control. And when she was behind the steering wheel again, he was left to the embarrassing business of putting himself back together. All while trying to catch his breath.

She said, “I learned something about you, Henry.”

Part of him felt as if he’d been tricked. Like his brain had been sucked dry, not the rest of him. Nervously, he wondered what exactly she’d figured out.

Another part of him just wanted to roll over and go to sleep.

13

Arden’s phone rang several times during the day, but she couldn’t manage to wake herself up in time to answer it. Finally, though, her bladder insisted she get out of bed, and when she dragged herself out of the bathroom, the phone was ringing again, so she picked up.

“Arden?” The silky voice of Hadrian Sloan-Whitaker purred in her ear. “I have some news for you.”

“News?” Arden collapsed on the bed again and racked her fuzzy brain to find some context. A sliver of sunshine glowed at the bottom of her window shades, but she had no clue what time it might be.

“Yes, I put my ear to the ground as you suggested, and there’s definitely a seismic shift going on.”

“An earthquake?”

“Nothing that significant yet. But a buzz.”

What the hell was he talking about?

He said, “Someone contacted me through my Facebook account. Someone asking about antiquities.”

“You have a Facebook account?”

“Leave no stone unturned,” Hadrian said. “I embrace all technologies that put me in touch with people. We texted for a while and I then realized I may have been inadvertently communicating with the party you wanted to reach. She’s asking all the right questions.”

Arden groped a random capsule from her nightstand and swallowed it dry.

Hadrian continued. “She wants to know about Greek statuary, perhaps second century BC. She’s very cagey, but I put two and two together. I wonder if she is someone with knowledge about your grandmother’s collection. It might be best if you were in touch with this prospect yourself.” After a pause, Hadrian sounded pained. “I sense she thinks I might be a sexual predator of some unpleasant kind.”

The information finally began to penetrate her fog. Arden dragged herself to a sitting position. “What did she say about the statue?”

“Nothing specific, but she’s definitely fishing. I suspect she’s in possession of something very valuable. Either that, or she’s looking to acquire. Either way, it’s good. For us.”

Since when were they an “us”? Arden remembered her own plan and didn’t recall Hadrian being a part of it. “What did you tell her?”

“I gave some basic historical information, but it was clear she already knew a thing or two. She mentioned Pittsburgh, and that’s when the penny dropped. Arden, if I put you in touch with this person, you’ll remember me when the time comes, won’t you?”

“When what time—? Oh, of course, Hadrian.” Suddenly she liked the note of fawning in his voice.

“I’d like a shot at placing your item.”

Arden said coolly, “With a museum?”

Hadrian barely held back a here-we-go-again sigh. “If an institution of origin is in a position to pay the going rate, of course we should consider its offers. But we’d certainly do better by—”