“Does she have the power to do that? Destroy you financially, I mean.”
“Unfortunately, yes. When I first started out, I was broke. I had no capital. Zora’s family invested heavily in my company. And profited accordingly, I might add. I’ve tried many times through the years to buy Zora out, but she won’t sell. She wants that hold over me. I think she’d prefer to bankrupt us both rather than allow me my freedom.”
“I see.”
Beacher’s sigh spoke volumes. “That’s not even the worst of it. She’s also threatened numerous times to kill herself if I leave her. Kill herself in such a way that I’m framed for her murder.”
Zach blinked. “That’s…pretty extreme.”
“Zora is the definition of extreme. And no wonder. The whole family, the Kaschak clan, are certifiable. Believe me when I say this is no idle threat on Zora’s part. You’ll understand when—if—you read the dossier I’ve compiled. Anyway, when I was sitting in your lobby, it suddenly came to me. If I were to come out as gay, everything would be different.”
“Would it, though?”
Beacher leaned forward in his eagerness, and Zach had to stop himself from rolling his chair backward. It wasn’t that Beacher was unattractive, but something about the guy…
Possibly the whole pretend-to-be-my-boyfriend-to-decoy-my-maybe-suicidal-wife thing?
“Yes. Yes. Zora is very insecure and competitive. She can’t bear the idea of losing me to another woman. But losing to a man? That’s not about her. That’s about me.”
“She’s still short a husband.”
“Yes. But it’s a loss her ego can survive.”
Zach nodded, though he wasn’t convinced by Beacher’s reasoning. Granted, Beacher knew Mrs. Beacher and Zach did not.
He had to ask. “Are you gay?”
Beacher got a funny expression. He licked his lips as though his mouth was suddenly dry.
“I…”
“Forgive me if this feels intrusive, but what I mean is, would there be any truth to this…scenario? Have you had gay relationships in the past?”
A tiny, barely perceptible wince from Beacher. “No. Not yet, at any rate. As I said, I wouldn’t have dreamed of being unfaithful. But that doesn’t mean…”
Zach waited, but Beacher didn’t finish his thought.
Finally, Zach said, “Of course not. I really only bring it up because, well, if your plan is to succeed, we’d—you’d—have to be convincing in your role.”
Beacher smiled a slow, strange smile that sent a little frisson of unease rippling down Zach’s spine. Beacher’s light gaze studied Zach’s face, dropped as if to assess the width of his shoulders, the breadth of his chest, and though Zach was seated behind a very sturdy desk, he had the uncomfortable sensation of being stripped naked and assessed from head to foot.
He was not shy nor insecure about his looks, but that kind of auction-block appraisal wasn’t a pleasant feeling.
Beacher continued to smirk in that troubling way, saying lightly, “No need to worry. That won’t be a problem.”
Chapter Two
“What was that about?” Brooke stared at Zach as the heavy glass door swung shut behind Alton Beacher.
Zach watched Beacher lope across the parking lot and climb into a black Porsche Boxster parked diagonally across two spaces. Two seconds later, the Porsche glided silently away on its ultra-high-performance radials, cutting off both an SUV and a minivan as it progressed out of the parking lot.
“That’s our new client.”
“Alton Beacher hired us?”
Zach, smiling ruefully, glanced at Brooke. It wasn’t like looking into a mirror or anything, but there was a strong family resemblance. They were both tall and lanky. Both had their mom’s wavy, chestnut hair and lousy eyesight, their dad’s blue eyes and stubborn chin, and a smattering of Grandpa Lake’s freckles across the bridge of their noses. The freckles were adorable on Brooke. On Zach? Nobody took a boyish accountant seriously. Let alone a PI who could have passed for one of the Hardy Boys.
“I’m on my way to deposit the twelve grand he just paid us for a weekend’s work.”
Brooke’s eyes widened. “Who do we have to kill?”
“Nobody. We have to keep someone from killing him.”
“Uh, that might be a little above our pay grade.”
“Not anymore.” Zach waved the short but satisfyingly thick stack of money orders.
Brooke’s brows shot up. “Money orders? Who’s he worried about snooping through his check book?”
Zach grinned. “Very good.”
“I know. I’m wasted behind this desk.”
“Well, you won’t be behind the desk much longer. These guarantee you can head back to school this fall.”
Brooke looked pained. “Yeah, Zee, about that.”
Zach shook his head. “You’re going back to school. That’s what Pop wanted.”
“What about what I want? I wasn’t sold on being a business major when Pop was still here to disappoint. Now that he’s gone—will you please stop shaking your head at me?”
Zach stopped shaking his head, but his expression must have said it all.
Brooke muttered, “Never mind. How long will you be gone? I’m supposed to meet Pepper for lunch.”
“I’m going to deposit this and be right back. Ten minutes at most.”
She nodded, then turned back to her computer monitor.
Zach pushed open the door, then stopped. He let the door fall back into place, glanced back at his sister, who was tapping the antiquated keyboard with short, sharp clicks like an under-siege telegraph operator sending out an SOS.
He sighed inwardly.
Twenty-three was so young. Too young to realize just how young you were. Too young to know what you really wanted. Let alone what you really needed. But technically, legally, Brooke was an adult. He couldn’t force her to do anything she didn’t want to do. He didn’t want to force her to do anything she didn’t want to do. He especially didn’t want to browbeat her into training for a career that bored her even before she’d accepted her first job offer.
He spoke to the irrepressible bounce of her ponytail. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Beacher compiled a dossier on the people he thinks are most likely to have a grudge against him. I left it sitting on my desk.”
Brooke continued to stare at the screen of her monitor. She said shortly, “Don’t worry. I’ll put it away for you.”
“Actually, would you want to read through it? We can compare notes.”
His reward was the bright smile she gave him as she swiveled her chair around. “I can do that!”
“Back in ten,” Zach promised, and pushed out into the bright autumn morning.
While there were obvious disadvantages to being a private eye located in a shopping center—and worse, sharing the limited possibilities of that real estate with another PI—there were advantages, too.
For example, the large, chain grocery store that anchored the smaller shops and businesses of the Del Sello Center made it very convenient to pick up a carton of half-and-half for the office fridge. Or grab a frozen dinner on the way home. There was a dry cleaner and a Starbucks inside the grocery store, as well as a mini-branch of Del Sello Savings and Loan.