Project Seduction (27 page)
"They run those tapes at half speed.” Rick paused to calculate. “That makes six hours per tape. There may be some useful footage on it. People whose photos we don't have on file.” He gave her a congratulatory pat on the back. “That's excellent, sweetheart. Well done."
"Hold on,” Georgina said, trying not to let the patronizing gesture annoy her. “Are you telling me someone's going to watch the tape?"
"Not that part.” Rick broke into a smile. “I'll have that spliced out before I hand the tape over. I want to see it, though.” He reached out and ran a finger along her jaw. “You want to watch with me?"
Georgina felt her face burn. “I don't know.” She flicked a quick glance up at him.
"Come on,” Rick said. “You ought to. I don't think you have any idea of how incredible you were."
"I'll think about it,” Georgina muttered.
"Okay.” Rick took her hand, and they retraced their path. “Let's get back and hit the road. Remember, we can't talk in the car. I haven't swept it for bugs."
"I thought you said it was no use. That they could listen anyway."
"Not in a car. A stationary mike or camera can't get you in a moving vehicle. A car needs to be bugged."
"You were supposed to explain things to me properly,” Georgina complained. “How am I supposed to learn if you leave out important facts?"
On Monday morning Georgina and Annabel sat behind closed doors in Georgina's office, feasting on chocolate muffins that Annabel had baked over the weekend.
Annabel's face reflected a gamut of emotions as Georgina described the plan to take down Domenico Diaz. Curiosity came first, followed by a healthy dose of suspicion, accompanied with concern over Georgina's safety. But gradually, an expression of hope and excitement animated Annabel's exquisite features.
"So, I was wondering if you'd want to help,” Georgina said. “Sort of coordinate things with the builder. Your contacts in the construction industry would be a tremendous help."
"Is there going to be something in it for the builder?” Annabel asked. Her fingers appeared to tremble as they toyed with the empty cup on the white saucer.
"We'd let him buy the half-finished houses at cost. He'd stand to make a good profit."
"All right. I'll do it.” Annabel raised her gaze. Her eyes glittered, and she kept blinking. “On one condition."
"Shoot."
"That I can choose the builder. I want to use a man named Danville Lewis. He trades under ‘CAL Homes'."
Georgina searched Annabel's face. “Lewis,” she said, keeping her voice low. “You said that name the night you got drunk."
"I know,” Annabel admitted quietly. She twisted the cup around in the saucer. “I'm sorry I haven't talked to you about it before. He's someone who haunts my dreams."
"Will you tell me now?” Georgina reached out to touch her hand.
"There's very little to tell,” Annabel said. “I hardly know him. His father, Leland Lewis, and Carl, my ex-husband, entered into a joint venture two years ago. Leland Lewis had been offered a development which was too big for his construction company. He needed a partner. Carl went in with him, but Carl rigged the contracts. He put in a clause which allowed him to pull out at any time. Then he used one of his other companies to supply substandard materials to the project, making huge profits. The materials were supposed to be top grade. Halfway through the project Danville and Leland Lewis realized what was going on. They confronted Carl, who used the loophole in the agreement to pull out, leaving them to sort out the mess."
Georgina's brow furrowed as she shifted through the information. “What did Danville and Leland Lewis do? Did they go to court?"
"No.” Annabel shook her head slowly. “They fixed the houses. Ripped out and replaced everything that wasn't up to specification. It was an upscale sub-division near Laguna Beach. Most of the units had already been sold. Leland and Danville Lewis were determined not to let the buyers down. It nearly ruined them financially. Leland Lewis had cancer. He died just under a year ago, without ever knowing if the company he'd founded would survive."
"What was your role in all this?” Georgina asked. “I mean, you were Carl's wife. Will Danville Lewis be willing to deal with you?"
"I was just a bystander. And we won't know what Danville Lewis thinks of me until we ask him."
"Why do you want him?” Georgina persisted. “Why not use someone you don't have an unpleasant history with?"
Annabel reached over to set her cup and saucer on the edge of the desk, her face serene and composed again. “Danville Lewis is still struggling financially. I want to help. To make up for what Carl did."
"What if he says he's not interested?"
"Then I'm not interested either. You'll have to find someone else."
"All right,” Georgina agreed. “I'll set up a meeting. Can you give me his contact details?"
Annabel nodded. “Can you do me a favor? Don't mention my name. Otherwise he might not come."
"If that's what you think, I really don't understand why we are even considering him,” Georgina said.
"That's the way I want it,” Annabel said quietly. “I'll email his contact details to you in a second.” She stood up and went to her workstation. A few minutes later she disappeared into the direction of the ladies room. When she emerged half an hour later, her make-up was fresh, but it couldn't hide the puffiness around her eyes.
The windowless room in the basement of Pacific Bank was only furnished with a faded Formica table and a few plastic chairs. The air that pumped in through the ceiling vents was cold enough to give Rick goose pumps, despite the awful suit he was starting to loathe.
"What is this place?” he asked Georgina. He hadn't seen her for almost a week. Despite her formal clothing and their impersonal surroundings, he found himself wanting to pull her close and feel the warmth of her body against his. The parting between them after he drove her back from the Diaz estate last Sunday had been cool. It weighed on his mind, more than he cared to admit.
"It's an old computer room. The mainframe is housed off-site now. It used to require strict temperature control to keep the processor from overheating."
"Why didn't they turn off the cold air when the computer was taken out?"
Georgina pulled a face. “I guess no one remembered. I'll talk to maintenance."
"Don't worry,” Rick said. “I don't expect to be back."
"I wasn't thinking of your comfort,” Georgina pointed out. “It's waste of money to keep an empty room chilled."
"I should have known,” Rick mumbled.
"What?” Georgina glanced at him.
"That my welfare wasn't the topmost in your thoughts."
"It's your choice to be here today,” Georgina told him sharply. “I was quite happy to meet with the builder on my own."
"He needs to hear from me that the plan is officially sanctioned.” Rick rested his eyes on Georgina, battling with a feeling of frustration he didn't wish to analyze right now. “For that at least, you need me."
"Where's Maite?” Georgina said. “I thought she was supposed to come with you."
"Maite had a few vacation days left. She's gone to Philadelphia with your art dealer friend. They are staying at the Four Seasons and doing the Art Museum and some other place that has a lot of Renoirs."
"The Barnes Collection,” Georgina said absently, smoothing down the front of her skirt. “I hope they booked a parking space. Otherwise it's a nightmare to park."
Rick found nothing to say in return. He adjusted his shoulder holster, trying not to make it obvious he was watching her. Georgina wore a fawn skirt and jacket, and matching shoes with high heels. He imagined what she had on underneath. The wretched suit grew even more uncomfortable.
A knock interrupted the silence between them, and Georgina sprinted to open the door. A uniformed security guard appeared in the crack. He nodded at her, and then at the man he'd escorted down to the basement. Georgina dismissed the guard with a few quietly spoken words before she motioned the newcomer inside.
"Rick Matisse. San Diego Police Department.” Rick stepped forward and shook hands.
"Danville Lewis.” The man looked from Rick to Georgina. “I was invited here to talk about a building project. Someone had better start by explaining why the police are involved."
"Please, sit down, Mr. Lewis.” Georgina pointed at a scuffed plastic chair.
Danville Lewis sat down, and Georgina began to speak. Rick listened, tugging at his collar, cursing himself for wanting to attend the meeting. It was clear that Georgina didn't need him at all.
Annabel Fairfax hurried along the basement corridor. Her breathing stalled, her hands shook, and her legs felt like rubber. As far as she was concerned, the next few minutes would be the most important in her life.
She stopped outside the old mainframe room. For a second, she laid a hand over her racing heart. Then she gave the door a quick rap and pushed it open.
Danville Lewis sat with his back to her. Even without seeing his face, Annabel would have recognized him anywhere. His slightly disheveled tawny hair was only a few shades darker than hers. An almost tangible aura of tension radiated from his compact lean body. The long-fingered hands, which she'd last seen clutching a hymn book, gripped the edge of the Formica table.
Then he turned. Annabel caught her breath as his scowling amber eyes met hers. She'd never known anyone who carried the same quality of intensity about them as Danville Lewis.
"What is
she
doing here?” He stood up so abruptly that his chair crashed backward and hit Annabel's legs.
"She works here,” Georgina said smoothly. “She'll help with the project."
"Mrs. Gundersen,” Danville Lewis said. His narrow face hardened, and his eyes burned into Annabel's. He crossed his arms over his chest, making no move toward her, or to pick up the fallen plastic chair.
"It's Miss Fairfax now,” Annabel said. “I left my husband."
"Congratulations."
Annabel gave him a tiny nod. “Thank you."
Something passed over his face. “Why?” The question was spoken gruffly. It appeared reluctant, as though he was acting against his better judgment.
"Why did I leave him, or why I am accepting your congratulations?"
"Either."
Because I saw you, so gallant in your suffering, and I realized that contrary to what I'd thought all my life, I was capable of love
.
The thought made Annabel's breath catch, until she felt so dizzy she had to support herself against the wall. “I left him on December eighth last year,” she said.
"That's the day we buried my father,” Danville Lewis told her.
"I know. I was there.” Annabel met his eyes again. “I decided not to go home afterward. I never went back again."
He contemplated her with disdain. “I didn't see you there."
"I stayed in the back. I didn't think I'd be welcome."
"That's one thing you were right about.” He uncrossed his arms and took a step toward Annabel. “You helped your husband. Gave him an air of respectability that allowed him to take people in."
Annabel's chin rose. “I had nothing to do with it. I left my husband when I found out what he'd done to you."
"You expect me to believe that?"
Annabel pushed her body away from the wall and took a small step forward. She had to break through the barrier of hostility between them. She had to make him understand. Otherwise true happiness would never be hers. “I'd always known that Carl was a bastard. But it was the first time the victims had faces other than my own. I realized it was possible to stand up to him."
"Why did you marry him?"
Annabel shrugged, uncertain herself now, through the passage of time. “I was young and foolish. Marriage was the only thing I was trained for, and Carl can be charming when he tries. I didn't realize he wanted to merge with Pittsburgh Steel rather than marry me."
"That's no reason to call him a bastard."
"Two hours after the wedding ceremony Carl found out that my grandfather had no intention of cutting him a slice of the company. He threw it into my face, how he'd been tricked. I wanted to have the marriage annulled. I went to my parents, but they were against it. In my circles, the benefit of marriage is to get daughters out of the parental home."
"You didn't need their permission. You could have done it anyway."
Annabel looked down at her twined fingers. “I would have, but Carl raped me that night.” She raised her head. “The marriage was consummated, which made annulment much more difficult, and in my family, divorce is considered a disgrace. And Carl had been so violent I no longer had the courage to defy him."
"A reluctant bride,” Danville said, not entirely without sarcasm.
"Yes,” Annabel gave him a calm nod. “And a reluctant wife. During the seven years of marriage, I never slept with him willingly. After the first couple of years, forcing me stopped being a novelty. He started to have affairs instead. I thought everyone knew."
"No. I didn't know.” Danville looked less fierce. “I came to your house for dinner once, when my father couldn't make it."
"I know.” Annabel smiled at her recollection. “I saw your name on a list. There was a smudge between the first and last name, which I took for a comma. I assumed Lewis was your first name. I've thought of you as Lewis ever since."
"I was named after an office block. My father's first big project was in Danville up on Route 680.” A quick grin flashed over his face. “I should consider myself lucky. Two weeks earlier he'd lost out on a bid in Pottstown."
"Yes,” Annabel said. “Pottstown Lewis doesn't quite have the same ring to it."
"I saw you that night.” He spoke more slowly now, reaching into the past. “You were not at dinner, but I went outside for a smoke. It was the summer before last. You were sitting on a bench in the garden, wearing a white nightdress. You had a cut on your lip and a black eye. When I returned inside, I wanted to kill him."
"He wouldn't have been worth it."
Danville directed his intense eyes at Annabel. “Of all the things your husband did to me, the worst thing was that he had you. After that one encounter, when you didn't even know I was there, I became obsessed. I wanted to be a big success and rescue you from him, like some medieval knight charging in on a white stallion.” He shook his head. “How stupid can a grown man get?"