died, moved into the penthouse and settled into a steady routine of luncheons and meetings and long lonely nights—a routine that required far more cocktails than her doctor thought she needed.
Even now she continued to do what Charles would have wanted. She had set up a room for the boy here, in the penthouse. It wasn’t a nursery, for he wasn’t a baby anymore. Red, white, and blue highlighted the nautical theme. Some of Rick’s sailing trophies and photos adorned the walls and bookshelves.
There were books waiting for Christopher to read, games for him to play, but there were no toys yet. She knew that just like her son, the boy would have his own wishes. They’d shop for toys together.
She shook her head, sighed. After Charles’ death, a terrible second blow, the fight had gone out of her. Assuming they would contact her if and when they had any new leads on Caroline and the boy, it had been months since she had spoken to anyone from Alexander and Perry.
Before Charles’ death she had never even written a check to pay a bill, but after the deepest bouts of shock and grief left her, she had sat down with the lawyers and personal accountants Charles had trusted for years and learned all she had to know about how to manage for herself.
She was feeling stronger now, no longer so listless and apathetic. In fact, it frustrated her to think that Charles had been denied the one thing he wanted most—to see Rick’s son safe.
If Caroline Graham thought she had gotten away, she was wrong. Anna had made a pledge to Charles, and she refused to give up before she found Christopher.
Setting the sweating tumbler on the marble-topped vanity in the master bath, she began to divest herself of diamond earrings, bracelet, the necklace Charles had given her on their final wedding anniversary.
She undressed, hung up her knit sheath and eased a robe over her silk slip. The cocktail had made her slightly woozy, allowing her to take a fuzzy step back from reality. She brushed her teeth and as she carefully removed her makeup, studied the lines around her mouth and eyes.
When had her skin started to dry up and turn brittle as parchment?
Slipping out of her robe and into a long nightgown, she avoided her reflection. She smoothed the lace over the bodice of her nightgown and suddenly recalled something she’d heard at the symphony fund-raiser this afternoon.
Jackson Montgomery was ailing.
He and Charles had been members of the same yacht club, both avid fishermen who cruised to tourneys off of Cabo every summer for years. Montgomery’s grandson, Jake, had been a friend of Rick’s and had attended Rick’s memorial with his grandfather.
Rick and Jake had spent a few weeks together every summer when Jake was living at the beach with his grandfather, but the boys might just as well have lived on different planets during the school year, for Jake lived across town with his mother and stepfather and attended another high school.
After graduation Rick had gone off to USC. She had no idea where or even if Jake Montgomery had gone on to get a degree, or if one needed a degree of any kind to be a private investigator.
One of the reasons Charles had chosen Alexander and Perry was that Jake had worked for them, but Jake had eventually left the agency to start his own private investigative firm. Though Charles had opted to stay with Alexander and Perry because of their resources and reputation, she always felt that Jake might have worked the case much harder because he had known Rick.
Until she heard Jackson’s name today, she hadn’t thought of nor had she heard from Jake Montgomery in years, but tomorrow she intended to call the elder Montgomery to inquire about his health and ask if his grandson was still doing investigative work. She’d been paying Alexander and Perry’s retainer fees of late and decided they were earning a hell of a lot of money for so few results.
She picked up a plastic prescription container of sleeping
Even now she continued to do what Charles would have wanted. She had set up a room for the boy here, in the penthouse. It wasn’t a nursery, for he wasn’t a baby anymore. Red, white, and blue highlighted the nautical theme. Some of Rick’s sailing trophies and photos adorned the walls and bookshelves.
There were books waiting for Christopher to read, games for him to play, but there were no toys yet. She knew that just like her son, the boy would have his own wishes. They’d shop for toys together.
She shook her head, sighed. After Charles’ death, a terrible second blow, the fight had gone out of her. Assuming they would contact her if and when they had any new leads on Caroline and the boy, it had been months since she had spoken to anyone from Alexander and Perry.
Before Charles’ death she had never even written a check to pay a bill, but after the deepest bouts of shock and grief left her, she had sat down with the lawyers and personal accountants Charles had trusted for years and learned all she had to know about how to manage for herself.
She was feeling stronger now, no longer so listless and apathetic. In fact, it frustrated her to think that Charles had been denied the one thing he wanted most—to see Rick’s son safe.
If Caroline Graham thought she had gotten away, she was wrong. Anna had made a pledge to Charles, and she refused to give up before she found Christopher.
Setting the sweating tumbler on the marble-topped vanity in the master bath, she began to divest herself of diamond earrings, bracelet, the necklace Charles had given her on their final wedding anniversary.
She undressed, hung up her knit sheath and eased a robe over her silk slip. The cocktail had made her slightly woozy, allowing her to take a fuzzy step back from reality. She brushed her teeth and as she carefully removed her makeup, studied the lines around her mouth and eyes.
When had her skin started to dry up and turn brittle as parchment?
Slipping out of her robe and into a long nightgown, she avoided her reflection. She smoothed the lace over the bodice of her nightgown and suddenly recalled something she’d heard at the symphony fund-raiser this afternoon.
Jackson Montgomery was ailing.
He and Charles had been members of the same yacht club, both avid fishermen who cruised to tourneys off of Cabo every summer for years. Montgomery’s grandson, Jake, had been a friend of Rick’s and had attended Rick’s memorial with his grandfather.
Rick and Jake had spent a few weeks together every summer when Jake was living at the beach with his grandfather, but the boys might just as well have lived on different planets during the school year, for Jake lived across town with his mother and stepfather and attended another high school.
After graduation Rick had gone off to USC. She had no idea where or even if Jake Montgomery had gone on to get a degree, or if one needed a degree of any kind to be a private investigator.
One of the reasons Charles had chosen Alexander and Perry was that Jake had worked for them, but Jake had eventually left the agency to start his own private investigative firm. Though Charles had opted to stay with Alexander and Perry because of their resources and reputation, she always felt that Jake might have worked the case much harder because he had known Rick.
Until she heard Jackson’s name today, she hadn’t thought of nor had she heard from Jake Montgomery in years, but tomorrow she intended to call the elder Montgomery to inquire about his health and ask if his grandson was still doing investigative work. She’d been paying Alexander and Perry’s retainer fees of late and decided they were earning a hell of a lot of money for so few results.
She picked up a plastic prescription container of sleeping
Similar Books
