Secret Sisters (29 page)

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

Becky Alvarez rapped once on the partially open door of Jack's office.

“What?” Jack said. He did not look up from his computer.

“I've got an update on that hotel fire that killed Edith Chase.”

Jack stopped reading the data on his screen in midsentence and swiveled his desk chair around to look at Becky.

“Talk to me.”

Becky moved quickly into the office. She stopped in front of the desk and flipped open a notebook.

“I finally tracked down the housekeeper who took care of the penthouse that Edith Chase was in the night of the fire,” she said. “The housekeeper remembered seeing an unknown person on that floor earlier in the day—a man who was wearing a hotel maintenance uniform. The housekeeper didn't recognize him, so she made a point of speaking to him, per routine hotel security protocol.”

“Go on.”

“The maintenance guy told her that he was new on the staff and that he had been sent to the penthouse to take care of a problem with the air-conditioning system. After speaking briefly with the
housekeeper, he left. Used the stairs, not the service elevator, which the housekeeper thought was odd because it was a long way down to the first floor.”

“Did the housekeeper report the unknown maintenance man to her manager?”

“Yes. But that's where things get murky. The head of housekeeping checked with the head of maintenance. No one could find a work order for that particular floor and there was no record of a new hire. The head of maintenance went to the head of security. As a precaution, security did a walk-through of the penthouse and found nothing out of the ordinary. They also checked the videos from the security cameras, but you can't see the guy's face because he was wearing a cap and glasses. The best description I could come up with is that the man was a notch or two over six feet. Athletic build.”

“That fits all three males in the Webster family.”

“The housekeeper said she's pretty sure the maintenance guy was in his thirties. If it was a Webster, it was either Xavier or Travis.”

“He went to the penthouse earlier that day to rig the wiring. Later that evening he went back to trigger the explosion and fire. He had to be present at the scene that night in order to make sure that Edith Chase did not escape the blaze. He probably went into the room and killed her first, figuring that the fire would conceal the evidence of murder. When he was sure she was dead, he exited the hotel along with everyone else. He went down the emergency stairs and vanished into the crowd and confusion.”

“That would explain a lot,” Becky said.

“Send me a copy of the video.”

“Knew you'd ask. It should be in your in-box by now.” Becky went toward the door. “By the way, your mother called. She said to remind you that you're in charge of the chiles rellenos for dinner tonight.”

Jack turned to face the computer screen. “Thanks.”

“I'm leaving now.” Becky glanced at her watch. “Unless you need me to stay?”

“No, go ahead.”

“Don't forget to set the alarm on your way out.”

“I run a security firm, Becky. I'm really good with locking up.”

“Just thought I'd mention it. You've been somewhat distracted lately.”

“Had a few things going on.”

“Believe it or not, I had figured that out. See you tomorrow.”

Jack looked up. “Good work finding the housekeeper.”

“Remember that when it comes time for a raise.”

She went out into the reception area. A moment later Jack heard the front door close.

The video was interesting, but Becky had been right. It wasn't clear if the man in the maintenance uniform was Xavier or Travis. Only one of them, however, had a motive.

Travis.

Jack got up, grabbed the rumpled sport jacket off the wall hook, and headed for the door, turning out lights as he went. When you ran a small business you had to watch every penny.

He paused at the front door to put on his jacket and arm the security system. Mentally, he made a list of the ingredients he would need for the chiles rellenos.
Poblano chiles, cheese, eggs.
And then there was the salsa to consider.
Tomatoes, onions, serrano chiles, limes . . .

He liked cooking for Madeline, but it would be even better cooking for her tonight because he would be cooking for the woman who would soon be his wife. The future looked brighter than it had in a long time.

He walked toward the elevator lobby. The insurance broker and the marriage counselor who shared the same floor of the building had
closed for the day. The remaining two offices were empty, victims of the last recession.

A janitorial cart stood in the hall. Mops, brooms, toilet brushes, and bottles of cleaning products poked up out of the cart like alien foliage. There was no sign of the janitor.

Jack was still some distance away from the elevators when he heard the door of the emergency stairwell open behind him.

“Don't move,” Travis ordered quietly.

Jack stopped.

“Turn around,” Travis said. “Slowly. Open your jacket. I want to see if you're armed.”

Jack turned around. Travis was dressed in the green uniform of the building's janitorial service.

Jack peeled back one side of his sport coat.

Travis snorted. “No gun, huh? What's up with that? You sure as hell had one on Cooper Island. But you come home to Arizona, land of open carry, and you stop wearing a gun to work? So much for the big-time security expert.”

“I'm more of a security analyst.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“I analyze people like you. Try to figure out what they'll do next. Got to admit, you surprised me, Travis.”

“No shit.”

“If you were half as smart as everyone thinks you are, you would have been out of the country by now, headed for that island where you've been stashing the profits you skimmed off your father's hedge fund operation,” Jack said.

“You know about the offshore bank? Well, it doesn't matter. The feds can't touch me there.”

“Did your father ever realize that you were siphoning off the money?”

“Nope. Never. He just kept thinking that the old program wasn't working as well as it once had. But three years ago I tweaked the system just a little. I knew I would need a lot of cash to get into the political game.”

“Why didn't you just ask Egan to bankroll a run for office?”

“What Egan Webster gave, Egan Webster took away. Dear old Dad used money to control people. I didn't want him to be able to control me.” Travis gestured toward the door of Rayner Risk Management. “Let's go. Inside.”

“Why?”

“Shut up and do as I tell you.”

Jack keyed in the code and opened the door. Travis followed him into the small reception area and closed the door. He surveyed the office with a derisive expression.

“You're really a small-time operator, aren't you? How the hell did you land the Sanctuary Creek Inns account?”

“I must have been very persuasive. Out of curiosity, is this going to be one of your mysterious explosion-and-fire spectacles like the ones you used to cover up Edith Chase's murder and to try to get rid of Madeline and me at the Aurora Point Hotel?”

“You put it all together. I'm impressed. In answer to your question, I don't have time to set up another arson scenario. No point anyway, now that Xavier's gone.”

“Because the idea on those other two occasions was to let Xavier take the fall if it turned out there was any serious investigation.”

“That was the plan. Shit. How the hell did you and Madeline Chase survive the garage explosion? There was a rumor going around that you told the cops you took cover in the old lube pit.”

Jack ignored the question. “What was it like sending Xavier out in that boat you'd rigged to explode? Must have been a little weird arranging the murder of your own brother.”

“You want to know how it felt? It was a huge relief. The golden boy was a walking time bomb.”

“A time bomb you set off the night you sent him out to torch the house where my clients and I were staying.”

“Xavier was like one of those old-fashioned clocks—want to see him explode? Just wind him up and point him in the right direction. I pointed him straight at you that day. Figured that even if he failed, which he did, I would at least be rid of him.”

“What did you do to set him off?”

“Earlier that evening I took him out for a few beers and explained that good old Mom and Dad were getting ready to send him back to the Institute. I told him it was your fault. Then I put the idea of torching the house in his head. I assured him that after he'd had his revenge on you and Madeline Chase, I'd have the boat ready for him to get away from the island before Egan and Louisa realized he was gone.”

“You didn't send him after Edith Chase, though, did you? And you didn't use him to rig the explosion in the garage. You took care of those two projects.”

“Sure. Couldn't trust Xavier to do anything right. He was too unstable. I needed to be sure of Chase's death, as well as yours and Madeline's. But now it's all fallen apart. Because of you.” Travis raised the gun a little. “Sooner or later someone will find your body here in your office and conclude that you surprised an intruder.”

“And you'll be on your way to that island and all that money.”

“Not the outcome I had planned, but it will do for now. Money changes everything, you see. And there's plenty of it waiting for me on Luna Verde.”

“Well, actually, that's not entirely true.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“We here at Rayner Risk Management take pride in our hacking
skills. I can't claim to be a whiz but I've got this brother who's unbelievably sharp on a computer. Shortly after four this morning, he siphoned off all but ten dollars from that account you opened on Luna Verde. He left the ten bucks behind because we didn't want to close out the account altogether.”

“You're lying, you son of a bitch.”

“Check the account for yourself.”

“I don't believe you,” Travis said.

He reached into one of the pockets of the janitorial uniform and yanked out a tablet. He set the device on the receptionist's desk. The gun in his free hand shook a little as he entered a code and then a series of numbers.

“He's in,” Jack said.

Travis looked up, startled. “What—?”

But the room was suddenly plunged into chaos as agents wearing dark jackets with the letters
FBI
emblazoned on the front and the back exploded through the front door.

In the next instant Travis was facedown on the floor. His tablet was in the hands of one of the agents. Someone else confiscated his gun.

Joe emerged from the scene of controlled chaos, grinning his skeletal grin.

“Get everything?” he asked.

“Every word.” Jack peeled off his jacket, reached inside his shirt, and took out the digital voice recorder. He handed the device to Joe. “It's all yours.”

Travis looked up. He stared at the recorder and then he looked at Jack.

“Everyone said you were just a small-time security company,” he said.

“I
am
a small-time security company,” Jack said. “But I've got aspirations.”

CHAPTER SIXTY

Daphne stood at the window of Madeline's office and looked out at the view of Sanctuary Creek.

“So this is where you've been for the past eighteen years,” she said.

Madeline moved to stand beside her. “Sanctuary Creek has been home ever since Grandma and I left Cooper Island.”

There was an unfamiliar tension about her friend today, Daphne thought. It was as if Madeline was braced to take a big leap but she didn't know how the landing would turn out.

“I always knew you'd wind up running your own business,” Daphne said.

“Is this going to be another observation about my tendency to go to the bottom line?”

“Nope. This is going to be an observation about how right you look here in the executive suite of Sanctuary Creek Inns. You were born for this, Maddie.”

“Well, I was raised in the business.” Madeline paused. “What about you? Is Denver home or do you think you might consider a career move that involves relocating?”

“What do you mean?”

“I guess I'm asking you if you're really attached to Denver.”

“There's nothing for me back in Denver. But I do have some clients there. Why?”

Madeline walked back across the room to stand behind her desk. “Sanctuary Creek Inns is embarking on a long-range series of renovations. All of the hotels need updating and a fresh new look. But each one must have its own personality. It's a core tenet of the company that while we encourage customer loyalty to the chain, we really focus on building a unique customer base for each inn.”

“I understand. What is this about?”

“There will be a separate design team for each of the inns, but I need someone here at headquarters to oversee all of the projects. The timeline is five years, and by the end of that period it will be time to start over. Hotel renovation is a never-ending process.”

A rush of excitement hit Daphne like a powerful drug. She was suddenly exhilarated beyond measure.

“Are you inviting me to interview for the position of designer in chief?”

“Actually, I'm offering you the job. I would be thrilled if you take it, but I will understand if you don't want to do interior designs for a chain of hotels. I realize it's not the same as designing private living spaces or offices. At Sanctuary Creek Inns we're all about the fantasy—”

“I accept,” Daphne said.

Madeline blinked. “Just like that?”

“There's nothing pulling me back to Denver.”

“I may have to lie down and put a cool cloth on my brow. First Jack says he'll marry me and now you tell me you'll move to Sanctuary Creek and take a job renovating my hotels. Life is good.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Something tells me I'm not the only one who will be excited to know that you're moving to town. Abe Rayner will be a very happy man.”

“Yes, I got that impression when he told me that he was considering a move to Denver.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“But it turns out that everything I want is right here in Sanctuary Creek,” Daphne said. “Abe won't have to relocate.”

“It's home,” Madeline said.

“I've been wanting one of my own for a long time.”