As she sank back in the leather chair, Marla looked around, pleased with the decor she’d chosen. Aldrich had given her free rein with decorating the penthouse and she gone with a modern look; chrome, leather, stark white walls with vivid splashes of colour. Some might think it was cold, but to her it fairly screamed exclusive, elegant...expensive. A faint smile spread over her face at the memory of the purchasing spree she’d had.
She sighed and began to examine her nails for chips as she waited, not really caring how long Aldrich spent with the nurse as long he didn’t expect her to help care for the tube. Thank heaven he kept a silk scarf over the opening. While it wasn’t really ghastly to look at, she preferred to ignore the more unpleasant aspects of life. The nurse was welcome to the job.
Mrs. Robinson had started just a month ago and was the eighth nurse he’d employed since the accident, the others having lasted only a matter of months each. Either they hadn’t been able to put up with his moods or they’d shown signs of excessive interest in the man. In the former case, they quit of their own accord; in the latter, Marla herself made sure they left. She wasn’t having anyone poaching in her territory and she’d already staked her claim on Aldrich, even if he didn’t know it yet.
A quick glance at her watch, told her he’d still be another ten minutes. Aldrich’s life was rigidly ordered and he demanded punctuality, which was why she’d arrived early for their meeting. It also provided a good opportunity for gathering information.
Getting up, she wandered casually about the room, appearing as if she were staring at the pictures on the wall. The man was obsessed with security and he was always moving the surveillance cameras. As she moved about, she surreptitiously scanned the room, trying to determine their latest locations.
Ah-ha! There was one over the door, pointing at the filing cabinet and the other one… She bit her lip and continued to search…there! Near the bookshelf. It was aimed at his desktop. Judging the angle carefully, she determined the computer wasn’t within the viewing area, though it had been last time.
Smirking, she worked her way to the window and made a show of peering through the blinds at the view. Idly she noted how sparse the trees were and the lack of green space.
Not a suitable place for us to live.
She frowned and pushed her inner wolf’s foolish idea away.
Letting the curtains fall back into place, she ensured she was out of camera range, then carefully reached forward to jiggle the computer mouse. The screen came to life and she began to read the information displayed. It never hurt to know what Aldrich was up to when she wasn’t around. He liked to spring surprises on her and she’d found that a bit of judicious snooping helped her keep one step ahead of him on most things.
The computer file that appeared had to do with Cassandra Greyson, an image of the heiress at the top of the screen. It showed a young girl with long, dark brown hair, green eyes, and golden skin. A mischievous smile seemed to lurk just beyond her full lips as if she were secretly mocking the photographer. It was a candid shot, one of the few that had apparently ever been taken of the child.
Marla didn’t know much about the girl. Aldrich kept the whole thing close to his chest, but she had gleaned some information over the years.
The missing heiress had disappeared the night Anthony Greyson was ‘accidentally’ shot by Aldrich who purportedly had been trying to scare off an attacking dog. If it hadn’t been for the severity of his own wounds, Marla might have thought Aldrich had arranged the whole thing—it had been such a convenient way of eliminating Greyson, after all. However, Aldrich had been near death, so it really must have been just a freak occurrence.
A wild dog attack was so unlikely in Chicago. At times she mused if a werewolf could have been involved, but decided it was just her own paranoia. Lycans kept a low profile and as far as she could determine, neither Greyson nor Aldrich had been dabbling in anything that might have provoked an attack.
Returning her focus to the screen, she skimmed over Cassandra’s file; Name, date of birth, mother’s name, but no father was listed. After her disappearance, she’d been traced as far as Kansas and then the trail went cold. Nothing Marla didn’t already know.
About to turn away, she saw a footnote. This file was linked to the Greene file. She growled in frustration. There were certain files Aldrich kept encrypted and this was one of them. He’d never shared the password with her and so far she hadn’t been able to crack it. The only other person who might know how to get in was his former assistant, Mrs. Sandercock.
Mrs. Sandercock, however, was unlikely to provide any help, should anyone contact her over the matter of secret passwords. It seemed the woman was rather bitter; something about an unexpected letter of dismissal from Mr. Aldrich. Marla smirked, thinking of how she’d bamboozled both Sandercock and Aldrich; each believing the other had terminated their association. Aldrich had barely been out of the hospital and in no condition to begin interviewing for the job, so naturally Marla had just slid into the permanent position. As for Mrs. Sandercock...well... Marla shrugged. Someone had probably hired the woman eventually; not everyone demanded letters of reference.
Checking the time, Marla realized Aldrich would be finished with his nurse soon. Casually, she strolled back towards her seat. On the surveillance camera it would appear she’d been studying the view and the paintings on the wall, while awaiting Aldrich’s appearance. The computer screen would fade to black in a minute, erasing all evidence that anyone had been looking at it recently. Everything would appear untouched.
Gracefully settling into her seat, she pasted a placid smile on her face, crossed her ankles, and arranged her skirt so that a sufficient amount of skin was showing. Now all she had to do was wait for her employer. Inside, her wolf whimpered, saying it was tired of the game she was playing, but she shushed it sternly. This was not the time. Everything would work out perfectly fine.
Chapter 6
“Thank you, Sylvia.” Aldrich slowly got up from his chair and nodded at the nurse who was putting away her equipment.
His doctor assured him there was no need for a private nurse, but Aldrich wasn’t taking any chances. Sylvia suctioned the tube each morning and night as well as before meals and whenever else the need arose. She was also in charge of checking the condition of his stoma twice a day, ensuring proper humidification of the air, ordering supplies, cleaning, and maintaining his suctioning machine... The woman was well worth the price of her paycheck. And besides, he had his hands on the Greyson estate; money wasn’t a problem.
“You’re welcome, Leon.” She smiled at him briefly, as she continued with her task.
Aldrich spared a moment to watch his nurse, not minding the familiarity with which she addressed him; her faint British accent was pleasing to the ear. Sylvia was fiftyish, slightly plump and had a bit of grey hair appearing, but was still an attractive woman. Plus she didn’t grate on his nerves and showed absolutely no interest in him whatsoever. Not since Mrs. Sandercock—damn her for leaving with no warning—had he appreciated the calm, soothing presence of the fairer sex.
His cheek twitched as he thought of the other female in his employ; Miss Matthews, or Marla, as she kept asking him to call her. The woman was beautiful and efficient, but as cold and calculating as himself. She thought she had him wrapped around her finger with her pouting lips and oft-displayed cleavage, but he knew her game.
Miss Matthews was out for whatever she could get and she’d set her sights on him, or more precisely, the Greyson estate. If it wasn’t for the fact she was damned good at her job, he’d have sent her on her way ages ago. As it was, he could put up with her as long as she didn’t step too far out of line.
“Leon? Is something wrong?”
Aldrich realized he was scowling at the nurse and hastened to reassure her. “No. Just some business I was thinking of.” He paused, then spoke hesitantly. “I...I believe the British are known for taking afternoon tea. Is it a practise you follow?”
Syl
via smiled. “I do like to have a cup mid-afternoon. Are you fond of tea?”
He studied her for a moment, then nodded.
“If you’d like, you could join me one day.” As she made the offer, a slight pinkness appeared on her cheeks. Aldrich found it fascinating.
Suddenly aware he was staring, he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling inexplicably embarrassed—he was never embarrassed—and left the room, only realizing after the fact, that he’d never answered her.
He left the area designated as the nurse’s room utterly bemused by the exchange, arriving at his office door without even being aware of the fact. The door was open a crack and he could see long, silky legs carefully arranged for his viewing pleasure. Aldrich couldn’t help giving the displayed limbs an appreciative look. The woman was as sexy as hell and a certain portion of his anatomy couldn’t help, but respond to the fact.
Wondering what was wrong with him—first Sylvia and now Miss Matthews—he gave his head a shake and corralled his wandering thoughts. Putting on his usual bland expression, he entered the room.
“Miss. Matthews, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.” He uttered the socially polite words, not really caring if she had been waiting or not. That’s what he paid her for after all, wasn’t it? Still, he prided himself on maintaining a cloak of civilized respectability.
“No, you’re right on time as always, Leon.”
He paused in the act of sitting down behind his desk and looked at her with one raised brow. She caught his gaze, lowered her eyes demurely and with a slight blush—fake no doubt—corrected herself.
“I mean, Mr. Aldrich, sir.”
He gave a nod of approval and finished seating himself. Leisurely, he surveyed the surface of his desk, noting all his papers were exactly where he’d left them. Good. She hadn’t touched anything, though the surveillance cameras would have caught her if she had. He picked up the file she’d prepared the previous day and flicked it open. After a brief perusal he commented on her report.
“The Greyson Estate continues to function well and is in good repair, I see.”
“Yes.” Miss Matthews leaned forward slightly, as if she were eager to talk to him. Was it a coincidence her blouse gaped open? He thought not. “The monthly expense report for maintenance supplies, utilities, and employee wages is included.”
He glanced at the next page and nodded. “Anything else?”
“Just the matter we discussed earlier; Franklin’s advancing years.” She shook her head and made a little moue. “I fear he’s getting quite forgetful. The errors in the content inventory, claiming we’ve had conversations which we haven’t...” Her face was a picture of regret as her voice trailed off, but Aldrich studied her eyes instead; they were flat and cold. The woman was up to something.
“Be that as it may, he and Mrs. Teasdale were appointed by the courts as interim caretakers and Franklin’s last medical report deemed him capable of the job. We’ll just have to rely on your continued diligence to ensure things don’t get out of hand.”
The woman preened at his supposed praise while Aldrich kept his face neutral. He recalled Swanson’s report about her stop at Albert Winter’s, the antique dealer, last time she visited the Estate. There was little doubt in Aldrich’s mind Miss Matthews was pocketing small items and selling them, thus acquiring a tidy little nest egg. He admired her ingenuity; it was something he might have done himself in the early days.
As long as she confined herself to the occasional bout of petty theft, he’d let it go. Her activities were actually providing him with ammunition should he need to use some leverage against her in the future. Knowing deep, dark secrets about an employee could be so useful.
“As always, I’ll do my best.” She smiled at him and, not for the first time, Aldrich noted her white, slightly longer than normal, canine teeth. They had an unsettling effect on him when she smiled widely. He briefly mused why she’d never had them fixed.
He gave his head a minute shake and continued on with the business at hand. “Swanson will be reviewing the Estate’s security system next week. I’d like you to accompany him and make note of anything that needs upgrading.”
“Yes, sir.” She began making notes, then queried in a deceptively casual voice. “If you don’t mind my asking sir, how are you progressing on the matter of the missing heiress?”
“Cassandra?” Aldrich flicked a glance at his computer and then at Marla. How did she know that was the file he’d been reading? Coincidence or...? Eyeing the surveillance camera mounted on top of the bookshelf, he narrowed his eyes. Did Swanson get the angle wrong or did it actually encompass his computer? Damn! He’d have to check the footage tonight.
Marla continued. “Yes. I was wondering if the latest batch of missing person posters had yielded any results.”
“No, not yet, but we’ll keep trying. She has to be somewhere. All it takes is for the right person to see the poster and for her picture to jiggle a memory.”
“And when you find her?”
“I believe that falls under lawyer-client confidentiality at this point. If you ever need to be appraised of the situation, I’ll let you know.”
“Of course.” She nodded and Aldrich wondered what was going on behind her demure expression. Was she laying plans for when or if Cassandra re-appeared? Perhaps planning on befriending the girl, becoming her companion? Or possibly arranging an accident, should the girl ever be located. The latter seemed more likely. Marla was probably hoping he’d remain in control of the Greyson estate for some time so the financial perks would continue to filter down to her. And once the estate was settled… Well, a substantial sum would come his way. She’d love to get her hands on that.
Well, no matter what Miss Matthews was concocting in her head, he had his own agenda where Cassandra Greyson was concerned.
Swiftly dealing with the remaining items on his desk, he sent Miss Matthews on her way, much to her obvious annoyance. The woman always wanted to linger and fawn over him, making annoying small talk, finding reasons to touch him. On occasion, he put up with her wandering hands, but today he wasn’t in the mood. Once free of her presence, he turned to his computer and thoughtfully studied the information before him.
Cassandra Greyson’s background puzzled him. From what little information he’d garnered, the girl was the daughter of some woman named Luisa, with whom Greyson had hooked up with briefly, though Greyson wasn’t the father; that person was listed as an unknown. Upon Luisa’s death, he’d raised Cassandra as his niece and made her his heir.
Aldrich pulled at his lip, still impressed Greyson had managed to keep the child hidden all those years. It had come as a shock when Greyson suddenly announced the existence of a ward. In fact, the announcement had been so startling it had aided the werewolf’s attack. Staring at Greyson in amazement, Aldrich had been unaware of the wolf until a streak of movement caught his eye. He’d swung towards the wolf; in his surprise tightening his grip on the gun and unintentionally shooting his boss, Anthony Greyson.
The incident had been deemed an accident caused by the ‘wild dog’ attack—that’s how the doctor at the hospital had listed the cause of the injuries to his throat. Aldrich had done nothing to disabuse them of the fact.
With Greyson dead, Cassandra had become heir to a multi-million dollar estate. Unfortunately, she’d gone missing the night of the accident and no one seemed capable of finding her.
Originally Aldrich was of two minds as to how to deal with the situation. Both options had merit. In one, the girl was simply eliminated. If she never returned as heir, he’d be in charge of dispersing the estate’s funds. He already knew of several ways to ensure a goodly portion ended up in his hands. Even now, as executor, he was able to use his own discretion to access a percentage of the money. The main drawback was the seven year waiting period for missing heirs. It would be another four years before he had complete control.
The other possibility was finding the girl and bringing her back. He’d have her dec
lared incompetent, which wouldn’t be hard, given her background. She’d been raised in a figurative glass cage and had no family or friends to vouch for her. There was even a nurse who had worked with the girl just hours before Greyson’s death. According to the woman, the girl was unstable, incorrigible and needed heavy sedation for some mysterious condition. Pampered, alone in the world, ill and a runaway... Having himself appointed guardian should be easy.
Her ‘condition’ was of special interest to him. Based on her uncle’s declaration just minutes before his death, Aldrich had his own suspicions as to what ailed her. If he was correct, the girl would serve more than one purpose if he kept her alive. He chuckled darkly. Yet another pawn for him to use in the chess game of life.
*****
Las Vegas, Nevada, U.S.A....
Cassie shifted on her feet and rubbed her lower back. Standing at a cash register all morning was tiring and she couldn’t wait for her lunch break. She flicked a casual glance at the customers still waiting to check out, while her present customer—an elderly woman named Mrs. Mitchell—found the money to pay for her groceries.
Most of the people in line were regulars, though the third man back was new. Possibly, he was a tourist, though she didn’t see many of those in the store; they usually stuck to the casinos and other attractions. She smiled vaguely at the customers and turned her attention back to Mrs. Mitchell.
“Three dimes—that’s thirty. A nickel—that’s thirty-five.” Three more pennies appeared. “Thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight! There you go. Twenty-nine dollars and thirty-eight cents exactly.” The older woman looked triumphant at having completed the task.
“The exact change as always.” Cassie smiled back as she picked up the coins from the counter and placed them in the till.