Flash Page 9
Her airy dismissal of the threat to herself irritated Jasper. “I take it you’ve had a lot of experience with blackmailers?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just telling you that I don’t think you’re in any real danger.”
“Thanks. I can’t tell you how much better that makes me feel.”
She gave him an annoyed glare. “There’s no call for sarcasm.”
“Sorry, don’t know what came over me.”
“My only concern here is for Aunt Zara. I promised her that we’d make another attempt to identify the blackmailer.”
“We?” he repeated cautiously.
“If the next attempt fails,” she continued briskly, “I think I can talk her into hiring a private investigator. She has a rather romantic view of PIs because of her years in television.”
Jasper dropped the blackmail letter onto the table. “Just how do you propose to catch this guy? You didn’t have much luck this afternoon.”
“I didn’t have time to put together a really good plan today. The disguise was a spur-of-the-moment thing.”
“I see.”
“But surely between the two of us we should be able to come up with a way to nail him.” Olivia paused. “Or her.”
“The quickest way to end this is to turn it over to the authorities.”
“The quickest, quietest way to end it is to identify the blackmailer.”
He contemplated the fresh enthusiasm and determination in her eyes. Apparently now that she had got past the awkward part, namely informing him that he was involved, her goal-oriented nature had reasserted itself. She was ready to move forward on the project.
“What do you plan to do with this blackmailer if you do make an identification?” he asked.
“Zara believes it’s someone from her past,” Olivia said. “She says it has to be someone who once knew her very well. Maybe someone who actually worked with her on those X-rated films. She’s convinced it’s an old rival who’s now down on his or her luck and looking for a way to make some quick cash.”
“I see.”
“She thinks that once we know the identity of the blackmailer, she can confront the person and warn him or her to leave her alone.”
“What makes her think that will work?” Jasper asked.
“She believes that the blackmailer won’t want to be exposed as someone who once worked in the porn industry any more than she, herself, does.”
“In other words, she thinks she can neutralize the threat by making her own threats.”
“Right.” Olivia looked pleased by his quick grasp of the concept.
“Hmm.”
She pursed her lips. “You don’t sound convinced.”
“I probably don’t sound convinced because I’m not convinced.”
“Look, if it’s any consolation, I happen to agree with you. I think we should turn the matter over to the authorities. But I promised Aunt Zara that we’d try to identify the blackmailer first and let her decide whether or not to handle it on a personal basis.”
Jasper said nothing.
Olivia’s brows came together in a tight line above the frames of her designer glasses. “You know as well as I do that Zara’s approach to this is no different than the way most businesses handle employees who commit fraud or embezzlement. It’s all hushed up.”
“This is not quite the same thing.”
“Yes, it is,” she said urgently. “Companies rarely go to the authorities when they suspect embezzlement because they don’t want their clients and customers to find out that their internal security was lousy. They prefer to handle the matter privately. Zara wants to deal with this the same way.”
“And you promised her we’d help.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me something,” he said quietly. “Do you always rush to the aid of any member of the Chantry or Glow family who comes to you for help?”
She scowled. “What kind of a question is that?”
He exhaled slowly. “Forget it. You’re right. It’s a stupid question.” One to which he already knew the answer.
My niece is a lot like me, Rollie Chantry had said at one point during the contract negotiations. She understands her responsibilities to the family. When I’m gone, she’ll watch out for Chantry interests.
“Jasper, I’m very sorry about what happened this afternoon. I know that it’s my fault that you’re involved now.”
The apology annoyed him. “It was the blackmailer’s fault, not yours.”
“If my disguise hadn’t been so crummy, he or she would never have recognized me and called your office to send you rushing down to the Market.”
“That kind of logic makes me hungry. When do we eat?”
She blinked a couple of times at the abrupt change of topic. “What about Zara? We need to make some plans.”
“I think better on a full stomach.” He got to his feet and started toward the kitchen. “I hope you’ve got a microwave. We’re going to need to reheat dinner. Got any lettuce?”
She glared at him through the opening above the counter. “Lettuce?”
“As long as there’s a kitchen available, I might as well make a salad to go with the spinach lasagna I brought.” He opened the refrigerator. “Good. You’ve got some romaine.”
“Hang on, that’s my kitchen.” Olivia bounced to her feet and hurried around the corner to join him. “Give me that lettuce.”
“Whatever you say.” He handed her the plastic sack full of romaine.
She shot him another scowling glance as she reached up to remove a stainless steel colander from a hook. There was an easy competency in her movements that told him she was comfortable in a kitchen.
Satisfied that she was going to proceed with the salad, he opened the paper bag. He removed the containers of lukewarm lasagna and the loaf of crusty, rustic-style bread.
Olivia grudgingly pointed toward a cupboard. “The olive oil is in there.” She tipped her head slightly in the opposite direction. “Bread knife is in that drawer.”
“Thanks.”
For a few minutes they worked side-by-side without speaking. Jasper was aware that Olivia kept glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.
“Do you like to cook?” she finally asked. “I mean, something more than just slicing bread and sticking take-out in a microwave?”
“I got used to kitchens after my nephews came to live with me a few years ago. It was either feed Kirby and Paul at home or watch them grow up addicted to hamburgers and pizza. All the books I read on the subject emphasized the importance of kids eating at home in a family environment.”
She looked intrigued. “You read books on how to raise kids?”
“As many as I could find.” He stuck the lasagna into the microwave and closed the door. “Like I said, my approach to most things is to collect as much information as possible before I take action.”
“Why did your nephews move in with you?”
“My stepbrother and his wife were killed on a skiing trip in Europe.” Jasper selected the cooking time on the face of the microwave. “There wasn’t anyone else for Kirby and Paul.”
“I see.” Her eyes were suddenly unreadable. “No kids of your own?”
“No.” There was something about working with someone in a kitchen that broke down the usual social barriers, Jasper reflected. Or maybe it was having a blackmailer threaten both of you in the same note that induced a certain artificial sense of togetherness. “My wife left a few months after Kirby and Paul moved in with me. I never found the time to remarry.”
“I know what you mean.” Her voice was quiet and cool. “I was in the process of filing for divorce when my husband died. Afterward I lost interest in the whole concept of marriage. Then I got very busy with Light Fantastic.” She shrugged.
Jasper recalled the Crawford Lee Wilder piece in West Coast Neo. The article had hinted, darkly, that it was his wife’s threat to leave him that had caused Logan Dane to risk his neck running with the bulls in Pam
plona. Wilder had also implied that the net result of Dane’s death had been to leave Olivia holding a fortune in art.
From what he had seen of her private world, Jasper doubted that last bit. There was not a single painting hanging on the wall. She gave every appearance of being successful, but not wealthy. Everything he had seen thus far, including the Light Fantastic studio and this condo, could be explained by her own hard work and maybe a little assistance from her uncle.
“Where are your nephews now?” she asked.
“Both are at the university. They’re taking summer sessions so that they can graduate sooner. Paul’s headed for engineering, I think. But I can see Kirby in the academic world.”
She flashed him an impulsive smile. “Like my brother, Todd.”
Jasper glanced at her. “I thought you said he was a political consultant and a speechwriter.”
She wrinkled her nose. “He is now, but I’m hoping it’s just a phase.”
“What happens if Lancaster wins in November?”
“I’m a little worried, if you want to know the truth.”
“About Lancaster winning?”
“No, of course not. She’ll make a good governor. Maybe a great one. What concerns me is that Todd is falling for her.”
“Ah,” Jasper said softly. “And you’d rather he didn’t?”
She leaned back against the counter, crossed her arms, and rolled her eyes. “How would you feel about having a politician in the family?”
He grinned. “Point taken. Personal sentiments toward politicians aside, what really worries you about the possibility that your brother is involved in a relationship with Lancaster?”
She hesitated, gazing thoughtfully into the middle distance. “Right now Eleanor’s on a political roll, thanks in large part to Todd’s skill as a political theorist. I guess I’m worried about what will happen to the relationship if Eleanor loses the election.”
“In other words, you’re afraid Lancaster’s feelings toward your brother have more to do with the fact that she needs him as a consultant than with true love?”
“And, to be fair, vice-versa. I’m afraid that Todd is attracted to her, at least in part, because she’s given wings to all his policy theories and ideas. He sees her as a sort of modern-day warrior queen, Boadicea leading the Britons against the invading Romans.”
“Got it.”
“But what do I know?” She unfolded her arms and pushed herself away from the counter. “I’m the first to admit that I’m not the world’s best judge of what makes a relationship work.”
“Neither am I.” Jasper was startled by the sound of his own words. He did not know where they had come from. He had not intended to say them. But there they were, hovering in the air alongside hers, stark admissions of past failures.
There was a short silence. And then Olivia got very busy taking plates down from a cupboard. The microwave pinged. Jasper jerked open the door and took out the steaming containers. He winced when his fingers came into contact with hot spots on the plastic. He grabbed a towel.
Sharing a kitchen and being threatened by a blackmailer could promote only so much togetherness between two people who had very separate agendas, he reminded himself.
Five minutes later, dinner was on the table. Olivia managed to wait until she had finished her lasagna and salad before she swept her plate aside and fixed Jasper with a steely gaze.
“Well?” she said. “You’ve been fed, and you’ve had a chance to think. Got any ideas about how to handle Zara’s problem?”
He took his time savoring the last of the lasagna. Then he put down his fork. “First we need a list.”
“A list of what, for heaven’s sake?”
“Of all the people Zara knew in the good old days.”
Olivia’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “That would probably be a very long list.” She gave the subject a few more seconds of reflection. “It could take ages to check out every person who worked with Zara and then try to figure out which one might be the blackmailer.”
“It won’t take long for an experienced private investigator to figure out which ones are here in Seattle at the moment,” Jasper said bluntly.
“Of course.” She stared at him, understanding flashing across her animated face. “Jasper, that’s brilliant.”
“It’s a CEO’s job to be brilliant. That’s why I get the corner office with the big windows.”
She ignored him. “I should have considered that approach right off. Whoever is blackmailing Zara has to be here on the scene. He could hardly pick up a blackmail payment from L.A., could he? Besides, he obviously knows too much about all of us and the layout of the Market.”
“Right.”
“The threat is definitely local. There can’t be that many people who both knew Zara in the old days and who also happen to be here in Seattle.”
“It’s a place to start.” Jasper told himself not to get too excited about the look of glowing admiration in her eyes. “It means Zara has to be convinced to bring in a PI, however.”
Olivia waved that problem aside with a flick of her wrist. “Don’t worry. I can talk her into it.”
“Get the list from her first. When you have it, I’ll call someone I know at a firm I use for background checks on potential business clients.”
“I’ll have Zara start working on the list first thing in the morning.” Olivia jumped to her feet and began clearing the table. “You know, I feel much better about this whole thing now that we have a plan.”
“Nothing like a plan.” He wished he felt as buoyed as she apparently did. He rose, picked up his dishes, and followed her into the kitchen. “Promise me you won’t do anything else about this blackmail thing without talking to me first.”
“Okay,” she said a little too easily. She set the dishes in the sink. “Speaking of consulting with each other, that reminds me. We have to talk about Melwood Gill. What with this blackmail mess, I almost forgot about him.”
Jasper came up behind her to put his plate and silverware into the sink. He was so close he could smell the warm, womanly scent of her body mixed with something herbal from the soap and shampoo she used. He wondered what she would do if he put his arms around her and kissed her. Bad timing.
“If you want to see the reasons I shifted Gill to another position,” he said, “I’ll be happy to open my briefcase and show them to you.” He ought to move back, put some distance between them. He was too close for his own good. He was getting hard again.
She took care of his dilemma by stepping adroitly to the side. He watched her turn and lead the way back out of the kitchen.
“You can bet your corner office with the window that I want to see those reports,” she said.
He stifled a groan. It was better this way. Even someone with bad timing in this kind of thing could see that.
Reluctantly he followed her out into the living room.
Lightning crackled in the distance just as he reached down to open his briefcase. Real lightning, not his libido-driven imagination this time, he thought. It was followed by a distant roll of thunder.
Great. The rain would hit soon. Just about the time he was ready to walk back to the ferry dock. He’d get drenched.
Distracted, Olivia swung around to stare out the windows. A look of anticipation crossed her face. “We’re in for a genuine summer thunderstorm. We don’t get too many. I love to watch from here.”
She opened the sliding glass doors and stepped outside onto her small corner balcony.
Jasper took his hand off the briefcase latch. He watched Olivia go to the railing. She stood there studying the dark, roiling clouds as if something she saw in them fascinated her.
He followed her out onto the balcony. She did not turn around.
“Olivia.” He was intensely aware of the energy-charged air. He tried to think of something intelligent to say. “About Gill—”
“It’s not that I don’t think you know what you’re doing,” she assured him without tur
ning around. “It’s just that I feel a certain sense of responsibility toward the longtime employees of Glow.”
“I understand.” He closed the distance between them until he was once more standing directly behind her. “It was because of his long years of service that I did not let Gill go.”
“But it’s humiliating for a man in his position to be moved aside.”
“It would be considerably more embarrassing for him if I fired him.”
She turned around very quickly, her eyes huge and shadowed in the strange storm light. “Are you absolutely certain that there is no better way to handle the situation?”
“Absolutely certain. Give me a little credit here. A few minutes ago you called me brilliant, remember?”
She smiled wryly. “I remember.”
He watched her face. “It may interest you to learn that when it comes to business, I’m known for having a really great sense of timing.”
“Is that a fact?”
“So they tell me. I am not, however, known for my good timing when it comes to other things.”
“Such as?”
“Such as this kind of stuff.” Need overrode logic. He bent his head and kissed her full on the mouth.
She went very still, but she did not pull away. Jasper put his hands out on either side of her and gripped the balcony railing with so much force that he wondered it did not fracture.
He felt the tremor that went through Olivia. It made everything in him very hard and tight. He heard a small, muffled sound, and then she pulled her mouth an inch or so away from his. She looked at him with deep, unreadable eyes.
“I don’t have the best timing in the world when it comes to this kind of thing, either,” she whispered.
“Maybe we both need practice.”
He took his hands off the railing and wrapped her in his arms. This time her mouth opened beneath his. Some of the wild energy in the air pulsed in him. He felt her palms settle tentatively on his waist, not clinging, but not pushing him away, either. She touched him cautiously, as if testing the waters of a very deep, very dark pool.
He could feel the thrust of her breasts beneath her loosely fitted denim shirt. The warmth of her body was a sharp contrast to the cool breeze that heralded the onrushing storm. He wanted to lose himself in that soft, feminine heat.