“Is Miss Brazier divorced by any chance?” he asked.
“No,” Luther said.
“Well, no one is perfect.”
Chapter 8
What do you mean, Raina left town?” Luther said. “That’s impossible. She would have told me if she had a reason to travel.”
Lyra got to her feet, moving with caution. It was noon. The headache she had awakened with had finally disappeared beneath the onslaught of aspirin and coffee, but she was still feeling a bit fragile. The last thing she needed was a major confrontation with one of the most powerful men in Burning Cove.
Thanks for leaving me to face him, Raina. You owe me, Boss.
Lyra reminded herself that, thanks to her family’s social standing and her father’s shipping business, she had met a lot of powerful men, including tycoons and important politicians. She knew how to handle them.
Luther Pell, however, was definitely in a different category. The curriculum at the exclusive women’s college she had attended had not included a course on how to handle men who operated nightclubs and were rumored to have mob connections.
She composed herself. She might not possess a lot of useful job skills, but she was very good when it came to talking her way out of trouble.
“All I can tell you is that Raina stopped in at the office long enough to see if I had come to work this morning,” she said. She crossed to Raina’s desk and picked up the sealed envelope. “She told me she had a case that required her to leave town for a few days. Something about an old acquaintance who needed her help. She left this note for you.”
“A note?” Luther glanced at the letter, disbelief etched on his stern features. “No. She wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t just take off and leave a damned note.”
“Please don’t look at me as if I made her disappear, Mr. Pell,” Lyra said. “I assure you I don’t know anything more about this than you do.” She handed Luther the envelope. “I’m just the messenger.”
Luther gave her a considering look. His eyes narrowed.
Lyra winced. “Yes, I’m aware of what happens to the messenger.”
“Raina wasn’t sure if you would show up today,” Luther said. “I told her you would. I’ve had more experience figuring out what people are likely to do, you see. Raina is still new at the management end of things.”
“What does that have to do with— Oh, never mind. I’m here.” Lyra straightened her shoulders. “And, until Raina returns, I’m in charge.”
Luther nodded once and ripped open the envelope. He pulled out the note and read it in a single glance. Then he read it again.
When he looked up there was ice in his eyes.
“Do you know what this says?” he asked.
“No,” Lyra said. “But I gather it’s a very short message.”
“Here.” Luther thrust the note into her hand. “Read it yourself.”
The note was written in Raina’s elegant secretarial school script. It was, as Lyra had suspected, quite short. She read it aloud.
Dearest Luther,
I have been called away on an urgent, personal matter. I do not expect to be gone more than a few days at most. I will telephone you at the earliest opportunity when I have a better understanding of the situation. In the meantime, please forgive me for my hasty departure.
Sincerely,
R.
P.S. Kindly do not interrogate my apprentice. She doesn’t have any answers for you.
Lyra looked up and found Luther watching her with the cold, fierce intensity of a predator.
“She’s in trouble,” Luther said.
“I agree,” Lyra said. She folded her arms. “And since you raised the subject, I may as well tell you that I have opened an investigation.”
Luther looked stunned. “Into Raina’s disappearance?”
“Yes.” Lyra sighed. “I was worried, you see. She did not seem to be her normal self this morning. I’m well aware that there are some serious issues involving professional ethics here. Raina is my employer, after all, and she did make it clear that she was leaving town on a personal matter. I have a duty to uphold Kirk Investigations’ reputation for honoring client confidentiality. However—”
“The hell with professional ethics and client confidentiality. Raina isn’t a client anyway. She owns the firm.”
“Yes.” Lyra brightened. “There is a lot of gray area here.”
“There’s nothing gray about it. We’re going to find her. Did you get anywhere in your investigation?”
Lyra went around behind Raina’s desk and opened the large, leather-bound desk calendar. “Her appointments last week and yesterday were all routine, assuming you can call the Adlington case routine.”
“Except that she sent you to the Adlington interview.”
“She thought it would be good experience for me. It seemed like a simple, straightforward client interview.”
“Go on. What else did you check out besides her calendar?”
Lyra closed the calendar and opened the center drawer of the desk. She took out a notebook. “She uses this to record memos of telephone conversations with her business contacts and her clients. Unfortunately, she keeps the notes in shorthand, but the dates are plain to read, and so are the phone numbers and addresses. The last note is about the Adlington case. There’s nothing after that. I was in the process of going through her files to see if there has been any recent activity. She keeps very good files.”
“Raina used to work for a small law firm in New York that was in the trust and estate business for several generations,” Luther said, his tone impatient.
“Yes, she mentioned that.”
“Did she?” Luther’s brows rose. “I’m impressed. Raina doesn’t usually talk to people about her time in New York.”
“Well, I tend to ask a lot of questions. Besides, one can hardly miss her classy East Coast accent.”
Amusement gleamed briefly in Luther’s dark eyes. “I can see why Raina says you have a talent for investigation work.”
Lyra’s spirits soared. “Did she tell you that?”
“Yes.”
“That’s . . . very nice to hear.” Lyra cleared her throat. “As I was saying, there is nothing on her calendar that indicates today was going to be anything other than normal here at Kirk Investigations, and so far I have found no notes indicating recent phone calls to any of the businesses or people in her file of contacts.”