My One And Only (27 page)

"Keeps to himself," Carter added.

"He's got a nephew who pulled some strings to get him in here. This is one of the better places around, and the waiting list is long."

"You think Dryden is behind this?" Krestyanov asked, writing the name down in his notepad.

"No," John said. "It's Dryden's nephew. We never met the guy until the other day. That's when the whole thing came together."

Carter nodded and slammed his hand down on the arm of his wh
eelchair. "If I hadn't been con
fined to this damned thing, I'd have slugged the
guy."

"Do you have a name?" the detective asked.

John reached for Abby's hand and enfolded it in his own. "Abby knows him. David Wilcox."

"
W
hy," Abby insisted later that day, "couldn't it just be a coincide
nce?" They were seated in Detec
tive Krestyanov's office, where he was making phone calls about David Wilcox.

Ethan shoved a diet soda into her hand. "Honey, listen to me—"

"But I've known David for years. He's always been a friend."

That didn't surprise Ethan. David Wilcox would have made damned sure he could keep an eye on things. He'd been managing his uncle's money for him for years—a worthy chunk of cash Ethan was willing to bet could be traced to Abby's father. The last thing he'd appreciate was for information to surface that might stop the free ride he'd been getting from his uncle's assets.

"Try to look at this logically," Ethan urged.

"I don't
want
to look at it logically," she protested.

Ethan rolled his eyes and gave up trying to argue. The detective finished his call and nodded briefly at Ethan. "Okay. We're going to set up surveillance. If what you say is true, he's going to feel a little desperate as soon as he gets the news."

"Good." Ethan had persuaded Harrison to circulate rumors through his company executives about the reason for the planned sell-off. The news of the MDS breakup had already gone public that morning. If Wilcox suspected that Harrison was onto him, he'd have to act. "I called my office in San Francisco. They're making sure that the right people start calling the MDS corporate office for answers. Wilcox is going to feel the heat pretty damn quick."

"We can keep him under surveillance for a while," Krestyanov promised, "but something will have to bring this to a head soon. If one of the Feds was really responsible for getting Abby's father killed, we won't be able to get the guy unless we move fast enough to outsmart them. The roots of this are deep."

Abby shook her head. "I just can't believe—" She exhaled a heavy breath and asked the detective, "Do you think Rachel and I are in any danger?"

"Not right now," he said, "Wilcox is in this for the money. If he tried to break into your house, he most likely just wanted to scare you. If the man, or men, responsible for your father's death knew we
were investigating this, that would be a different story."

Ethan frowned. "How do you know they don't?"

"The inner circle is really tight. The two of you, me and my partner, my boss, and your two vet friends—that's it. Nobody in this group is talking. As far as Wilcox k
nows, it's just about the black
mail. He has no reason to know anything about the federal case."

"He'll panic soon," Ethan agreed. "He'll try to contact Harrison again when he does."

"Harrison has agreed to wear a wire if necessary," Krestyanov told them. "But frankly, I don't think we'll need it. I have the previous threats he got—he turned the
m over to me. All I need is evi
dence proving that Wilcox is behind the blackmail."

"I still think we should take precautions," Ethan said.

"So do I." The policeman looked at Abby. "There's no point in being deliberately foolish. Is there somewhere you and your sister can stay for the next few days?"

"Yes," Ethan said. They'd stay with him. In San Francisco. Where he could lock the doors and put armed guards around the place. No one was going to hurt her.

Abby glared at him. "I'm not moving out of my house."

Krestyanov leaned forward. "Ms. Lee, I think you should consider—"

"I'm not doing it. I can send Rachel to a friend's house for a few days, but I'm not going to let him scare me out of my house."

"Abby."
Ethan's frustration was mounting.

"No," she said firmly. "I won't do it."

He studied the set of her jaw. This was the same woman
w
ho fought fiercely for her loved ones and clung to him in the night with a tenacity that robbed his breath. She wasn't about to back down without a fight.

"Fine," Ethan announced. "Then I'll move in."

A
s the week wore on, Abby found her fuse growing shorter. She a
nd Ethan had explained the situ
ation to Rachel, who had agreed to stay with her friend Kelly's parents. Access to the kitchen, no doubt, had played a major role in her acquiescence. Rachel had received her acceptance notification for the Baldovino event, and since the date was little more than a week away, her mind was fixed on preparing for the competition. The chance to experiment in the gourmet setting was more than she could resist.

Abby spoke to her daily, and she and Ethan drove out to see her twice that week. But as the weekend approached, with still no move from David Wilcox, Abby became increasingly more anxious. Ethan had been unfailingly patient with
her moodiness.
She supposed there were some ad
vantages to his long-practiced habit of staying on an even keel. At least it freed her to feel like a basket case as long as one of them was thinking soundly.

But there were signs that he, too, was beginning to feel the pressure. For the past two nights their lovemaking had taken on a new tone, a slightly desperate edge that made Abby feel like the clock was ticking. She told him she loved him—she gave him everything she had—and though he was a generous and considerate lover, he still managed to keep her slightly at arm's length. She cautioned herself to be patient. He'd had years to practice insulating himself, but she couldn't fight her fear that once the case was resolved, Ethan would have no reason to stay in Chicago.

Detective Krestyanov had informed them that afternoon that he wasn't certain how much longer he could justify the extra surveillance on Wilcox if something didn't break soon.

She was in her office with Deirdre late Friday morning, pouring over the last of the contracts for the fund-raiser, when Marcie buzzed through on the intercom. "Yeah, Marcie?"

"Sorry, Abby, but Dave Wilcox is out here. He wants to see you."

Abby and Deirdre exchanged looks. "Tell him I'll be right with him," Abby said. Deirdre pulled a cell phone out of her pocket and dialed Harrison's private line.

"He's here," she said simply, and flipped the phone shut. With a brief nod, she sat down across from Abby. "Nerves, darling. Calm nerves. Just make the little ferret confess and he'll squeal."

Despite herself, Abby had to fight a smile. Deirdre was enjoying herself more than she'd ever imagined. Harrison's plea that Abby give her the event chairmanship to raise her self-esteem had obviously been right on target. And Abby had been pleasantly surprised at the friendship she'd been able to develop with his sister in spite of, or perhaps because of, her unique eccentricities.

"I should call Ethan," she told Deirdre. "He'll be pissed if I don't let him know."

The other woman laughed and punched his number on her phone. She gave Ethan the same terse message, then gave Abby a thumbs-up.

Abby hit the intercom button. "Okay, Marcie. We're ready."

David Wilcox sailed into her office full of his usual charm. He greeted Deirdre with a look of surprise. "Mrs. Cornwell, or is it Everson now?" He took her hand in both of his.

"It's back to Montgomery."

"I'm so glad to see you. It's been too long."

Deirdre, dressed in a turquoise suit with white pearl buttons, gave him a feline smile. "It certainly has, David, darling. What have you been doing down there in Harrison's accounting department? Working for slave wages, no doubt?"

His smile didn't falter. He laughed, and Abby wondered why she'd never heard the hollow ring to it before. He turned to Abby. "How have you been, Abs? It's been a while."

She had to squelch the urge to scowl at him. God.
Abs.
Had the man always been this obnoxious? Rachel had always thought so. "I've been busy, David." She noted the softness to his face and the slightly flushed look of his skin. Once, she thought him handsome in a boyish kind of way. "You know we've got the fund-raiser coming up."

He nodded. "And the Baldovino event. I just cleared the paperwork for the sponsorship."

Abby stared at him. "MDS is sponsoring the Baldovino this year?" Harrison hadn't mentioned it. The competition was a week away.

David nodded. "We got word from upstairs about a week ago." He sat in the chair across from her desk. "We were a little surprised—you know, things being what they are." He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and gave her a rueful look. "But then, we just cut the checks. No one pays us for our opinion."

Abby gazed closely at David's face and wondered if she was imagining the slightly bluish color beneath his eye and across his nose. It was almost imperceptible, but could easily have been a latent bruise from the strike of her umbrella. She decided her imagination was playing tricks on her. "So what brings you up here?" she asked him.

"Well"—he looked a little sheepish—"actually, I was wondering if you wanted me to go with you to the fund-raiser this year—and maybe the Baldovino thing. We hadn't talked in a while, but—"

Deirdre's laugh interrupted him. "David, darling, obviously you all are completely out of the loop down there. You've been spending too much time wi
th your nose in Harrison's books
."

Did he flinch? Abby wondered.

"Sorry?" he said, looking blankly at Deirdre.

"Abby and Ethan Maddux are, er, together. I'm sure Ethan will be going with her."

"Oh." David blinked, and he seemed to square his shoulders. "I had no idea." He studied his manicured fingernails. "It's not a big deal. There's actually this woman in Accounting I was thinking of taking. It's just that you and I always had plans—"

That was a bit of an overstatement. Abby hardly considered the handful of casual dates she'd had with him a commitment. "I'm sorry," she told him. "I didn't think to tell you."

"So
…
Ethan Maddux." His expression turned unpleasant. "I i
magine that must make things in
teresting upstairs."

There were few, Abby knew, who worked at MDS who weren't aware of the legendary feud between Ethan and his father. There were also few who were crass enough to gossip about it. She was starting to feel the same sense of anticipation she
had when she knew a spider was lurking somewhere in her kitchen. She was ready for him to crawl out of his hiding place so she could enjoy the satisfaction of squashing him. "You could say that."

"I knew Maddux was offering up advice on the financial situation, but I assumed, what with the buyout and all, that—"

Deirdre clucked her tongue. "Ethan's interest in MDS didn't go much farther than this office." She indicated Abby with a wave of her hand, "Abby did persuade him to take a look at things, but he and Harrison agreed the best course of action was to sell." Deirdre sighed dramatically. "It's really been quite sweet to see the way this has brought them back together."

David's gaze narrowed on Abby. "Oh?"

Abby nodded. "I wouldn't say things were completely mended between them—" The door to her office burst open, and Ethan and Harrison entered, laughing about a shared joke. Abby regarded the scene with amazement. Deirdre's smile turned positively wicked.

"Oh, sorry," Harrison said, looking at David. "I didn't realize there was someone in here besides Deirdre."

Ethan rounded the desk and leaned over Abby's chair to kiss her. It started as a brief peck, but when he took a second taste, it had her heart racing. "All right?" he asked quietly against her lips.

"So far
,"
she whispered.

He raised his head. "We came by to see if you two wanted a break from all this paperwork." He indicated the clutter on her desk. Abby just stared at him. He and Harrison seemed positively chummy. David had to be shocked. Only Deirdre appeared to be taking it all in with a delicious satisfaction.

"Baldovino is so grateful for our sponsorship money," Harrison explained, "he's invited us all to lunch at his restaurant. Ethan and I hoped we could persuade both of you to join us."

"How cozy," Abby drawled. Ethan shot her a knowing look.

"Can you spare the time?" Deirdre asked Harrison. "I'm sure things are getting hectic around the office."

Harrison shrugged. "We're making the press statement this afternoon. That should take care of it."