Secrets (31 page)

Walking into the master bath, Lacey stopped short. “Geez! Now, that's a bathtub,” she exclaimed. Her voice echoed slightly against the marble tile walls and gray slate floor.

Jason waited patiently at the doorway while her gaze moved from one opulent element to another.

A large white and gold marble whirlpool tub, deep enough to disappear in, was framed on three sides by frosted glass windows and a small garden of palms and feathery ferns. On another wall stood a shower stall sporting a gold rain-head showerhead and etched glass doors.

“Hi, Uncle Jake.”

Jason's greeting jolted Lacey out of her skin. Retreat was impossible. She turned to face the square shoulders, tall frame, and solid jaw of a dark-haired man. “Uncle Jake, I presume?” She wasn't doing anything wrong, so why did she feel her as though Brad Pitt had just caught her picking her nose?

“I know who I am. Who are you and what are you doing in my bathroom?” The man's voice was clipped velvet. His arm circled Jason protectively.

She stuck out her hand. “I'm Lacey Aegar. And as for what I'm doing here…”

“I hired her, Uncle Jake. She's going to find Snickers.”

She looked from Jason's cherubic face and up into the glistening brown eyes of his uncle and felt her composure melt into the cold slate beneath her feet. “Umm…I'm a private investigator. And your nephew has asked me to…”

“I think you've seen enough, Ms. Private Investigator or gossip columnist or whoever you are.” The man grabbed Lacey's elbow and began to usher her briskly out of the room.

“But Uncle Jake—”

“If you'll just hold on a minute I can explain.” Lacey's face burned at the man's insinuation. With Jason at his heels, the man swept Lacey down the stairs and was heading toward the front door, where she spread out her hands and planted them against the hard wood. “Stop,” she demanded, whirling around to face him head-on. “I'm not leaving until I finish what I came here for, and that's to help Jason find his dog.”

The man slanted his head to the left and stood silently staring down at her.

“Please, Uncle Jake.” Jason pulled at his uncle's pant leg like a little toddler.

She seized the stifling silence between them. “As I told you, my name is Lacey Aegar. I'm not a gossip columnist nor do I have any nefarious intentions. I'm looking for clues that may lead me to Snickers. So far, I've learned Snickers is a happy, healthy, and active dog. He has semi-long blond hair, just like his little owner.” Lacey smiled down at Jason, then brought her attention back to the man's stern look. “Maybe a yellow Lab mix? He'll fetch a ball, but spends his playtime equally between his favorite rubber duck and beloved rubber bone. I know you enjoy Snickers' companionship in the morning when you down your multigrain cereal with skim milk, orange juice, and gourmet blend cup of fair-trade coffee. I know you care about him and love your nephew and want to help find his dog. But there's been little time because you leave for work before sunrise and find it challenging to get home for dinner, though you make the effort, again, because you love Jason.”

“Trying to dazzle me with details, Ms. Aegar?”

“Just doing my job,
pro bono
, I might add.” Lacey could see by the sliver of a grin tickling the corners of the man's mouth that she had won. “Now, I know a bit about you, but we weren't officially introduced. I'm sure you'd prefer I call you something other than Uncle Jake?”

The man graced her with a delicious smile. If only it had been from his heart, she thought. Though winning, the smile was a habit. “Jackson Carter. It seems I owe you an apology.”

For Jason's sake, Lacey hid her disgust, but it reverberated through her like ripples in a pond. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Carter.” Like heck, she thought.
I'd like to grind you under my shoe, Mr. Carter, Mr. Snake, Mr. Stealing-All-My-Business, Mr. Daddy's Rich Son.
“I forgot I was speaking with someone in the business.”

“So you've heard of Carter, Inc.? I'm flattered you're familiar with my reputation, but I wish I could return the compliment.”

“Aegar Investigations. My sister and I are jacks-of-all-trades, gumshoes, and business owners all rolled up into one nice and neat partnership.” Why was she talking so fast?

“I see.”

Lacey squirmed. She didn't like his dismissive tone. On the surface he appeared gracious, but underneath it she detected something faintly derisive. For her, it might as well have been a river of superiority, fueling an attitude that his business wasn't even in the same category as her own.
Okay, maybe I'm a bit biased
, she thought uncomfortably.

“We've been in town for about four years,” she said. “Actually, we've been in town all our lives. Born and raised Laurelwoodites. But we've been in the business for four years.” Lacey marveled at her rambling to this complete stranger
. Open mouth and pour out my guts. Wanna tell him how much money is on the books, who your clients are, too?
She paused to look squarely into Jackson's deep brown eyes and squirmed again. Was that mocking or mirth twinkling, she wondered, clearing her throat. “Well, as I said, I'm here to help Jason, so back to work, if you don't mind.” She squeezed out from between the door and the wall of a man through a stiff smile.

“By all means.” Jackson gestured with an open arm, inviting Lacey back into the interior of the condo.

• • •

Jackson caught a delicate whiff of lavender as Lacey Aegar of Aegar Investigations strolled past him on her way through the living room. He'd granted his permission for her search, but she clearly had intended to proceed with or without it. He'd never admit it, but he was more than a little dazzled. She'd discerned a lot of information, all accurate, without breaking a sweat.

Eyeing her as she inspected the sliding screen door leading out to the deck, Jackson stifled the smile that lurked on his lips. This Lacey seemed intent on finding the wayward Snickers, and Jackson couldn't help but be delighted. From her burnished copper curls, enchanting green eyes, and sculptured cheekbones to her slim shoulders and delicious curves, Lacey defied him to dismiss her as an ordinary woman. And that was trouble. At thirty-four years old, with years of experience, he knew what to do with an ordinary woman. He'd had plenty of practice and was a little soured on the typical type he ran into. With the height of sophistication—a quality for him that translated as boring—these ordinary women seemed one-dimensional and interested primarily in his money and power.

But Lacey, she was something else altogether, it seemed. Jackson's stomach knotted at the same time his senses went on alert. Vaguely aware of Lacey talking with Jason, he straightened his shoulders. “What's that?”

“It's a piece of Snickers' fur,” Jason blurted. “It was stuck to the screen.”

Before Jackson knew what was going on, Lacey let herself out onto the deck, where she retrieved a red ball.

“I hadn't seen that. Good eye.” Jackson felt his stomach quiver. Maybe if he'd been a little more earnest about finding his nephew's dog he would have noticed the ball as it sat half hidden behind a cast-iron planter, a dead giveaway that Snickers could have been enticed outdoors, then snatched. Jason was very good about putting away his dog's toys. It wouldn't be the first time someone tried to get a piece of a Carter belonging, but why the dog?

Jason fast at her heels, Lacey walked out through the courtyard and into the lawn that made the backyard, a finger tapping against the tip of her chin. Jackson followed. With Lacey in the lead, the three of them walked the property line.

“You've got a lovely backyard.” Her yellow shirt, tucked neatly into her pants, made a bright spot in the yard. She placed a hand gently against the trunk of one of his sycamore trees. Her slim fingers and smooth skin rested in stark contrast against the rugged wood. Lacey tilted her head slightly and a smile curved her full lips. “An American sycamore. How nice. It's native, you know. Don't you love the sound of a breeze brushing through the leaves?”

Frankly, he'd never noticed. Although he'd handpicked the elements of his landscaping, he found little time to sit outside in solitude. Sure he'd been the gracious host to many an outdoor party, but time alone with his thoughts? That wasn't penciled into his schedule. Especially lately with everything that was going on at work. He'd planned to take time to relax and enjoy his nephew during Jason's extended visit, but it hadn't happened yet. He'd even hoped, with all the preparations he'd made to give Jason a room of his own, his visits could become regular.

Lacey seemed oblivious to his lack of response. Slowly, deliberately, she scrutinized the rock garden, stone walk, sculpture pieces, copper fountain, and small pond that comprised his backyard. But he found it alarmingly disconcerting to watch her. Her ability to focus fascinated him. She was lost in the details of her surroundings while she appeared completely in the moment at the same time.

But he didn't like feeling exposed, as though Lacey saw things about him he would never intentionally reveal to anyone. “I've been over the yard, you know. There's nothing here.” Jackson was ready to put an end to this intrusion.

But Lacey either hadn't heard him or was ignoring him. Suddenly her perfectly shaped behind, neatly emphasized in her gray pants, presented itself to him as she leaned her head close to the ground, peering closely at the privacy fence.

“How long has this hole under the fence been here?” She tossed the question over her shoulder before standing straight again and letting herself out the back gate. On the other side of the fence she retrieved a dog collar and tags from the underside of a bush. “Looks like we're getting warmer.”

By the time Jackson caught up with Lacey and Jason, he found the two rummaging through a row of garbage cans lined up in the alley between his condo and the neighboring duplex. Like a triumphant lawyer before a jury, Lacey held up two empty dog food cans. “I think we have a clue.” Her face shone with excitement.

“That doesn't mean anything.” He scowled.
Why is this crazy woman trying to lead on my poor nephew?
“So the neighbors have a dog.”

“Snickers! Here boy!”

While Lacey called the dog's name Jason began whistling. And Jackson couldn't get the two of them back inside fast enough. “Stop that! Let's go back inside. The neighbors will…”

“Yeah, that's your problem. Too worried about the neighbors to do a thorough search for your nephew's dog,” Lacey cracked and shot him a disdainful look.

“That's not what I was going to say. You don't know me or my neighbors. Don't judge me.” Just as he was about to seize his nephew's hand and lead him and this irksome woman back inside, Jackson stopped. “Listen.”

The distinct sound of dog barking came from inside one of the luxury duplexes.

“Snickers! I know it's him!” Jason bounded for the front door.

A ring of the doorbell brought a white-haired woman to the door. From behind her feet and before she could so much as say hello, the midsize Labrador mix came at Jason, lavishing dog kisses with all the enthusiasm of a long-lost Lassie. Boy and dog became one tumble of wiggly fur, denim jeans, and laughter.

There could be no mistaking the dog's ownership, and the woman surrendered him without a fight. “I found him wandering the alley and assumed he was a stray,” she offered. “He wasn't wearing a collar. He's a very nice dog. You're a lucky boy.”

Back inside his home, Jackson tried to deny the sour feelings of having been one-upped by this hometown PI. How had he missed the signs? They were right in from him. But at least Jason had his dog back and all was well as he walked Lacey to the front door.

“So about your fee,” Jackson started, reaching for his checkbook.

“Don't be ridiculous!” Lacey turned wide-eyed aghast on him and held up her hands. “I never intended for Jason to pay. I just wanted to help. I have a son his age and I'd like to think if he needed extra help someone would be there to offer it.”

Jackson put his checkbook down and turned on his charm. It was something familiar and a whole lot more comfortable than the odd mix of loathing and excitement churning in his gut. “At least let me take you and your husband to dinner.” He knew it was an obvious ploy, but he wanted to know if there was a Mr. Lacey.

“I'm widowed. My husband died four years ago.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.” He rarely blushed but he could feel warmth rising to his cheeks. “I would still like to take you to dinner.”

She ignored his offer but stood planted at the front door. Once again seemingly drawn to a point inside herself, she worked her lower lip between her teeth. “You know, I'm stymied. Did you let Snickers out the morning he disappeared?”

“I'm sure I did, but I know I let him back in. It's my routine and I don't vary from it.”

Lacey smiled and nodded her head. “That's what I'm sure of.”

Jackson felt a realization light in the pit of his stomach and burn its way up to his throat. “What are you getting at?”

“I think you know. You're a professional, big-time PI. You tell me.” Her green eyes sparkled, taunting.

He rubbed his thumb against his chin. This was something that had slipped past him and it didn't feel good. “You think someone let him out. You think someone deliberately enticed Snickers outside.”

“Bingo.”

“No bingo. You think you're onto something but you're wrong. There's nothing here. Your imagination, wild and imaginative that it is, is wrong. You're barking up the wrong tree.” His estimation of Lacey went up a few more notches, but he was not about to let her know. Protecting his privacy was imperative, a defense he'd become skilled at long ago, for good reason.