White Lies Page 7

  “Luckily we don’t have to worry about Brad anymore.”

  “Thank heavens,” Elizabeth said. “But I’m starting to get concerned about Valerie Shipley.”

  “I think it was seeing me last night that set her off. Once I’m out of town, she’ll calm down.”

  “I’m not so sure of that. In fact I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that she’s the one who picked up the phone and spread the gossip that got you fired and caused Greg to end your engagement.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of arguing with your intuition,” Clare said. “You may be right that Valerie got me fired from the Draper Trust. But I don’t know for certain that it was the rumors about my connection to Brad’s murder that caused Greg to dump me.”

  “Hah. You asked him why he was ending things, remember?”

  “Yes,” Clare admitted.

  “And what did he do?”

  “He told me there was someone else.”

  “Which was?”

  “A lie,” Clare said.

  “I rest my case.”

  Chapter Nine

  The voice mail message from Jake was waiting for Clare when she turned on her cell phone after leaving the resort restaurant. It was brief and to the point.

  “This is Jake. When you’re ready to pick up your car let me know. I’ll come and get you and take you out to Stone Canyon.”

  Clare punched the key to erase the message. “Talk about a take-charge type,” she said. “I think Jake Salter could give me lessons.”

  Elizabeth pulled dark glasses out of her purse. “What was that all about?”

  “He just left me a message telling me, not asking, mind you, telling me that he will come and pick me up and take me back to Stone Canyon.”

  “I’m sure he was just trying to be helpful.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “I sense undercurrents,” Elizabeth said.

  “So do I,” Clare said. She put on her own dark glasses. “But darned if I have any idea what’s going on.”

  They waited while the parking attendant brought Elizabeth’s Mercedes around. When it arrived Elizabeth slipped behind the wheel. Clare got in beside her.

  “For what it’s worth,” Elizabeth said, driving out of the resort and onto Camelback Road, “I really don’t think you need to worry too much about Jake Salter. Dad trusts him and that says a lot.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” Clare said. “Are you sure you don’t mind running me out to the house?”

  “No problem. I don’t have any appointments until this afternoon. Are you bound and determined to fly back to San Francisco tomorrow?”

  “That’s the current plan.”

  “Well, if you change your mind and stay over another day or two, I’m free tomorrow afternoon. We could go to the spa.”

  “Thanks, Liz, but I wasn’t kidding when I told you that my budget is very tight at the moment.”

  “My treat.”

  “I really don’t—”

  “Oh, for pity’s sake. This is me, your sister, remember? I’m not Dad. It’s okay to let me treat you to an afternoon at the spa.”

  “We’ll see,” Clare said.

  . . .

  The compact was waiting precisely where Jake had left it in the otherwise empty driveway in front of the Glazebrook house. The fractured windshield glittered in the hot sun.

  Clare got out of the car, hitching her bag over her shoulder. She leaned down to look back at Elizabeth.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “Call me when you find out whether or not you’ll be staying for another day or two.”

  “I will.”

  Clare closed the door. Elizabeth drove back down the driveway.

  The front door of the big house opened. Archer came out onto the veranda.

  “Thought Jake was going to bring you back here this morning,” he said without preamble.

  “Elizabeth and I had breakfast. She offered me a lift. It was more convenient. I called the rental company on the way here. They’re going to deliver a replacement car and send a tow truck for this one. They said the new car will be here in about an hour.”

  “Good. Too hot to sit out by the pool. Let’s go inside.”

  “I thought you would be at the office by now.”

  “Been waiting for you.”

  Might as well find out what this is all about, Clare thought. She tightened her grip on her purse and walked toward the veranda.

  “Sorry about Valerie last night,” Archer said gruffly. “She’s got a problem with the booze these days.”

  “I noticed.”

  She followed him warily into the house.

  “Where’s Myra?” she asked.

  “There’s a meeting of the board of directors of the Arts Academy this morning. She’s the president.”

  “I see.”

  They sat opposite each other on two leather chairs facing the view of the pool and the mountains. The housekeeper brought iced tea.

  “I’ll get right to the point,” Archer said. “I know you’ve had trouble finding a new job.”

  “Something will turn up sooner or later,” she said, stirring her iced tea with the long swizzle stick.

  “Like what?”

  “Well, I hear there are a lot of opportunities selling time-shares in Las Vegas.”

  “I’m asking you a serious question, damn it.”

  She hesitated and then gave a mental shrug. “I’m thinking of opening my own business.”

  Archer frowned. “What the devil do you know about running a business?”

  “Not much.” She smiled blandly. “But it sounds like fun so I thought, what the heck, why not give it a whirl?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Do you always have to be so damned sarcastic?”

  “No. I only get that way when I’m feeling pressured.”

  Archer settled deeper into his chair. “Look, I know that the reason you lost your job and your fiancé was probably the gossip that went around after Brad got killed.”

  “It didn’t help, that’s for sure.”

  “Figured the rumors would die down fairly quickly, to tell you the truth.”

  “So did I,” she admitted. “But it doesn’t seem to be working out that way.”

  “That’s why I want to offer you a job,” Archer said.

  She choked on her iced tea. It took a minute to catch her breath.

  “No thanks,” she said automatically.

  “Hell, I knew you were going to say that. So damned stubborn.”

  She set her half-finished iced tea on the coffee table. “Maybe I should go now.”

  “Hear me out first. It’s the least you can do.”

  She smiled a little at that. “The least I can do?”

  “You’re my daughter, damn it. Not my fault I didn’t know you existed until a few months ago. Your mother had no right to keep that secret from me.”

  “She thought she was doing what was best for everyone concerned.”

  “Yeah, well, she was wrong.”

  Clare exhaled slowly. “I didn’t come here to argue about a decision that was made more than three decades ago and over which I had no control.”

  Anger and frustration flashed across Archer’s face. “Why did you come, in that case?”

  “Mom insisted.”

  Archer grimaced. “Should have guessed.”

  “Maybe we should change the subject.”

  “Fine by me,” Archer said grimly. “Here’s the deal. I’m thinking of setting up a charitable foundation and I want you to take charge of it.”

  She was too flabbergasted to respond. She just sat there, staring at him.

  “Well?” Archer said, scowling. “What do you have to say about my offer?”

  “I think,” she said, spacing each word with exacting precision, “that setting up a charitable foundation is a terrific idea. You’ve got more money than any one human being needs. You could do a lot of good with it.”

  Archer seemed satisfied. “Right
.”

  “I’m sure you’re aware that foundations require large endowments.”

  “I’m not stupid, Clare.”

  “Really, really big endowments,” she emphasized. “The kind that can have a serious impact on what is left over for your heirs.”

  For the first time he seemed amused. “Starting to worry about your inheritance, after all? I thought you told me you weren’t interested in my money.”

  “Now who’s being sarcastic?”

  He made an obvious bid for patience. “Yes, Clare, I’m aware that setting up a well-endowed foundation will cut into the inheritance I plan to leave for my heirs. Don’t worry about it. There will be plenty left over for them and for any children they might have. Matt will take the company into the future and make even more money for the next several generations. Trust me, I can afford to fire up a foundation.”

  “Have you discussed this with Myra?”

  “No. I talked it over with Owen but I asked him to keep quiet about it until I had a chance to discuss it with you.”

  “Why the secrecy?” Clare asked, opening her parasenses cautiously.

  “Because I wanted to get you on board first.”

  The pulse of truth reverberated in the words.

  “You’re not planning to set up this foundation of yours just so you can give me a job, are you?” she asked.

  “It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while.”

  Not an outright lie, she decided. But Archer was not telling the whole truth, either.

  “Since when?” she asked.

  His mouth twitched a little. “You’re the skeptical type, aren’t you?”

  “I have trust issues.”

  “The idea came to me a few months back.”

  “Right after you found out that I got fired from my job at the Draper Trust and it became obvious I was having trouble finding a new position?”

  Archer moved one hand negligently. “I’m not saying that there was no connection. I’m telling you that it all came together in my head a few months ago.”

  “Far be it from me to discourage you from giving away some of your money but I honestly don’t think it would be a good idea to put me at the head of your new foundation.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Well, for starters, you’d want to be in charge,” she said. “My ultimate goal has always been to be my own boss.”

  “I’d give you your head. It’s not like you haven’t had plenty of experience in the field. You’ll know what you’re doing.”

  “Let’s not kid each other, Archer. We both know that you’ve dedicated your life to building your empire. You’ll certainly want the final word when it comes to deciding who gets your money and what they spend it on.”

  He snorted. “Well, it would be my foundation, after all. I ought to have some say in where the money goes.”

  She picked up her tea. “I agree.”

  “Doesn’t mean you wouldn’t be in charge.”

  “Yes,” she said. “It means exactly that.”

  Annoyance hardened Archer’s sun-weathered face. “Doesn’t look to me like you’re going to get a better offer anywhere else.”

  Clare’s stomach knotted. “Please don’t tell me you’re the one who’s been calling every potential employer I’ve contacted in the past six months and warning them not to hire me.”

  “Hell, no.” Archer slammed his hand flat on the table. “You really think I’d do something low-down and nasty like that just to get my way?”

  “If it was sufficiently important to you, yes.”

  For a few seconds she thought he was going to explode. Then he heaved a heavy sigh. “Your mother told you a little about me, huh?” he said.

  “She said you could be ruthless. At least you were in the old days.”

  “You don’t build the kind of company Owen and I built unless you’re willing to play hardball.”

  “I don’t doubt that for a minute.”

  “I did what I had to do,” Archer said. “But I had my own rules and I stuck by them. As God is my witness, I never took advantage of anyone who was weaker than me or anyone who didn’t know how to play the game.”

  He was telling the truth, Clare decided.

  “That sounds fair enough to me,” she said quietly. “But you have to admit those rules do leave some wiggle room.”

  “Won’t argue with that. But I didn’t use that wiggle room to call up people in San Francisco to tell them not to hire you.”

  “Okay. I believe you.”

  He looked at her. “Be reasonable, Clare. It doesn’t look like you’re going to get a better offer anywhere else.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m thinking about setting up my own business.”

  “Why did you get into the charitable foundation field?”

  “It wasn’t my first choice, but I have to admit that it turned out to be a reasonably satisfying alternative.” She paused. “At least until recently.”

  “What was your first choice?”

  She hesitated and then decided there was no harm in telling him the truth. “For the past several years, I’ve dreamed of going to work for Jones & Jones.”

  Archer was clearly taken aback. “Your goal was to become a psychic investigator for J&J?”

  “I thought it would be exciting and a perfect way to use my talents. I’ve sent in applications to the West Coast office every six months for the past few years.”

  “No luck, I take it.”

  “The dumbass who heads up the regional office, Fallon Jones, always rejects my applications.”

  Archer blinked. “Dumbass?”

  “I assume that is an appropriate description because he is obviously too dumb to realize how much I could contribute to J&J.”

  “I see.”

  “Every time I apply, I get a letter informing me that there is no position available. Doesn’t take a human lie detector to know that’s a bunch of bull. Fallon Jones has decided my sensitive nature is too delicate for the work.”

  “How do you use your talent in the philanthropy field?”

  “Lots of frauds and scammers out there who will go to any lengths to get their hands on a foundation’s money. It just so happens that I am uniquely qualified to detect frauds and scammers. Until six months ago that’s what I did for my employers.”

  Archer turned thoughtful. “Must have been tough all these years, living with that lie detector talent of yours, though.”

  “Mom and Aunt May saw to it that I got some help from a really insightful parapsychologist. Dr. Oxlade helped me figure out how to control my sensitivities.”

  “That fiancé of yours. Was he a member of the Society or a sensitive?”

  “No.”

  “He ever figure out that there was something a little different about you?”

  “I don’t think so,” Clare said. “At least not in the way you mean.”

  “You’re better off without him, then. Anyone as strong as you would have been miserable with a nonsensitive.”

  She said nothing. Given that it was unlikely she would ever find a sensitive who was willing to risk marriage with her, there didn’t seem to be much to say.

  “What makes you so damn sure we couldn’t work together on my foundation?” Archer asked after a while.

  “Intuition.” She paused a beat. “Archer, if you’re making the offer because you feel guilty about the past, forget it. It’s not your fault you didn’t know I existed.”

  “Yes,” he said. “It is.”

  Startled, she looked at him. “Why do you say that? Mom told me that she quit her job and left Arizona forty-eight hours after the two of you had your one-night stand. She said she never contacted you again.”

  “I should have checked up on her,” Archer said. “Made sure she was all right. But the truth was, her quitting like that made my life a whole hell of a lot simpler. I had enough problems on my plate at the time. I concentrated on dealing with them.”

  “Wh
at kind of problems?”

  “The company was going through a bad patch. Myra and I were having trouble. By the time I had my head above water again a year or so had gone by.”

  “So you concentrated on the future, not the past.”

  “I don’t look back too often,” Archer said. “Not my way. I told myself that it was highly unlikely your mother got pregnant that one time and that if she did, I sure as hell would have heard from her. Most women in her situation would have come looking for the kid’s inheritance. And she’d have had every right to do just that.”

  “Mom’s a very proud and independent woman.”

  “I remember.” Archer smiled wryly. “Probably why I was attracted to her. That and the fact that she was a hell of an accountant. At any rate, she never got in touch after she left so I figured that was the end of it.”

  “What’s done is done. I understand and accept that you feel some responsibility to take care of me financially. I respect that. I appreciate it. But it’s not necessary. I can take care of myself.”

  “I never said you couldn’t. But what the hell is wrong with taking a job from me?”

  She heard a car in the drive. “That will be the guy from the rental car company.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  She collected her purse and stood. “It wouldn’t work.”

  He got up and faced her. “Before you run off, give me your word that you’ll at least think about taking the position I’m offering.”

  “It’s not a good idea. Trust me.”

  “I hit you with it cold today. You haven’t had a chance to give it serious consideration.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Forty-eight hours,” he said, cutting in swiftly. “And stay here in Phoenix while you’re thinking about it. Is that too much to ask?”

  “Why do I have to stay here while I’m mulling over your offer?”

  “Because if you go back to San Francisco you’ll find it easier to say no,” he said. “Besides, like it or not, I’m your father. You owe me some consideration.”

  She smiled in spite of herself. “Never let the client walk away on a no, right? Congratulations. You get an A in Business Psychology one-oh-one.”

  For the first time Archer’s eyes gleamed with amusement. He grinned. “Honey, I’ve been doing deals since before you were born.”