Kiss of death

CHAPTER FIVE

ADAM SAT ACROSS THE DESK from Jerold “Jerry” Tobin, his uncle’s attorney and executor of Calvin Hunter’s estate. The portly, balding lawyer leaned back in his swivel chair, steepled his fingers across his chest and shook his head.

“I’m afraid Calvin’s left us with a mess. Probate could take a year at least-maybe longer.”

How convenient. Tobin would rack up a huge bill. Judging by the pictures lining the wall, the lawyer spent countless hours on the golf course. What better way to pay for expensive greens fees than a complicated probate?

“There may not be a lot left for you to inherit,” the lawyer told him. “It’s hard to tell at this point just what Calvin had and what he owes. I’ve brought in a forensic accountant to go over your uncle’s files.”

“Is there any problem with me staying in the house?”

“No. We’re paying the woman in the caretaker’s cottage to look after the place and take care of the dog. I forget her name-”

“Whitney Marshall.” Adam wasn’t about to forget her name-or the way she’d felt beneath him last night when he’d mistaken her for a burglar. Honest to God. What had he been thinking? He’d pawed her like some horny teenager in the back of a car.

This morning, when her ex-husband had been shaking her, Whitney had seemed vulnerable-nothing like the spitfire who’d kicked and bitten him. What kind of a prick got rough like that? It was none of his business, he reminded himself. But his mind kept drifting to her all morning.

“I could terminate the woman-”

“No. Don’t do that.” He didn’t want to add to Whitney’s problems. It appeared that she had enough to deal with right now. Besides, he owed her big-time for the way he’d behaved last night. “I’ll just be there until I can find a place of my own.”

“All right. We’ll leave the arrangement as is.”

“Did my uncle have any business partners?” Adam asked. He didn’t add that one of them might have wanted Calvin Hunter dead.

“No. Not that I knew about.” The lawyer studied him a moment, a calculating gleam in his eyes. “I don’t suppose there’s any reason why you can’t see your uncle’s file. You’re going to inherit all his assets and liabilities.”

“Liabilities?”

“I just warned you about Calvin’s finances,” the attorney reminded him. “Since your uncle held several properties in joint tenancy with you-”

“Wait a minute. What are you talking about? I don’t own anything with my uncle.”

Tobin leaned back in his chair and stared wordlessly at him for a moment. “Didn’t your father or uncle tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“When you were a minor, your uncle signed over half the house in Torrey Pines as well as two buildings in San Diego to you. They’re held in rather complicated corporations. Your father came to this office when I prepared the documents and signed them for you since you were underage.”

“He never told me a thing.”

For a moment Adam was shocked, then he realized what his father had been thinking. He hadn’t wanted Adam to rely on someone else’s money. He’d always pointed out how rich kids got into trouble and never made anything of themselves.

Uncle Calvin had tried to pay for his education when Adam had transferred from the University of San Diego to the John Jay College of Criminal Justice in New York City. Adam had refused the offer. It wasn’t just his pride; his uncle hadn’t been around much. He barely knew the man.

Now that he thought about it, Calvin Hunter had been proud of Adam in his own way. He’d flown to New York from God-only-knew-where in Europe when Adam graduated at the top of his class at John Jay. He’d taken them out to dinner at some swank restaurant in Manhattan. Then, as usual, Calvin Hunter had flown out of their lives.

It had been another five years before he’d heard from Calvin again. When Adam was promoted to detective, Uncle Calvin called to congratulate him. His swift promotion had been the result of hard work, but the degree from one of the most prestigious criminal justice colleges hadn’t hurt. Uncle Calvin had reminded him of this fact when he’d called. It was almost as if going to John Jay had been his uncle’s idea.

“I can’t say for sure how bad things are until the forensic accountant conducts an audit, but you may be responsible for any outstanding debts against the property you owned jointly with your uncle.”

Great. Just what he needed-more bills. Being deployed overseas didn’t stop car payments or the bills he’d inherited from his father. “What about the villa on Siros and the Citation?”

“Both were leased and your uncle was behind in the payments. Same with his house here. When he died, I brought the house payments up to date. It’s a valuable asset. I didn’t want to risk foreclosure.”

“I was under the impression my uncle was wealthy.” Adam didn’t really know or care about his uncle’s money, but his father had always said Calvin had made numerous investments, and they’d brought him a lot of money.

“That’s what I thought, too. I worked with your uncle for years. He had a great many valuable assets.” The attorney spread his pudgy hands wide, palms up. “This…cash flow problem seems to be a recent development.”

“What did he do with all his money?”

“Hard to say. We’ll know more when the accountant goes over everything.” The attorney shuffled through some papers on his desk before adding, “Do you know anyone that your uncle would have given three thousand dollars in cash on the fifth of every month?”

“No. I have no idea.” Adam thought a moment. “Maybe he used the cash himself.”

“I don’t think so. He withdrew cash periodically from ATMs during the month, and he charged a lot to his American Express card. This monthly withdrawal has been going on for over a year.”

“There are plenty of people-gardeners, pool cleaners, car-detailing services-who want cash so they don’t have to report it to the government.”

“True, but I’ve accounted for those employees. I’m thinking he was giving out a lump sum each month…for some reason.”

Adam shifted in his chair. “Are you thinking blackmail?”

“No, no, no,” the attorney responded just a bit too quickly. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation. The forensic accountant may turn up the answer.”

ADAM’S NEXT STOP WAS the coroner’s office. He knew the assistant coroner, Samantha Waterson, from his time on the San Diego police force. The woman didn’t miss much. She handled most of the autopsies for the coroner even though he signed all the death certificates.

“Hey, Adam. It’s great to see you,” Samantha greeted him.

The redhead had a smile that dominated her face and almost made you overlook the spray of freckles across her nose and the smallish brown eyes magnified by round tortoiseshell glasses. “How long’s it been?”

“Over two years.” He’d last seen Samantha at his farewell party the night before he shipped out.

“So how was Iraq?”

He shrugged. No sense depressing people with the truth. His National Guard unit had been sent over for what was supposed to be two years. Their stay was extended for another eight months. Even after he’d nearly been killed, Adam had been stuck at a desk job until his tour was over.

“I stopped in to discuss the autopsy you did on my uncle.”

“I received your message from Iraq about Calvin Hunter. I made sure I performed the autopsy myself.”

“The cause of death is listed as a massive coronary.”

“That’s right. His heart was in really bad shape. Don’t worry, though. He didn’t suffer. He died instantly.”

“Is there a medication or a poison or something that could cause such a heart attack?”

“Is that why your e-mail requested a full toxicology report?”

He decided to level with Samantha. When he’d been on the force, she’d always helped him. Aw, hell. She’d autopsied his cases first whenever he’d asked. “I saw my uncle in Greece about two months ago. He was worried that someone might kill him.”

“Wow! Why?”

“He refused to say. He thought I’d be in danger if I knew too much. Then seven weeks later he keels over of a heart attack. It makes me suspicious.”

The more he thought about his uncle’s warning, the more sense it made. In his own way Calvin Hunter had cared about him. Maybe as he aged, he missed having children and had tried to make up for it by giving Adam part of his holdings. And warning him about the danger.

Samantha swiveled in her chair and studied the plaques and awards lining her office wall for a moment. “I assume you read the police report.”

“I did.” He didn’t add that a buddy on the force had faxed him the info while he was still in Iraq.

Samantha nodded thoughtfully. “An unidentified female phoned 911 and said your uncle was having a heart attack. Paramedics arrived within minutes but no one was around. They assumed someone had been passing by.”

Adam took a deep breath. “My uncle was dead.”

“The 911 record says the call came from your uncle’s telephone.”

Adam nodded, wondering who the mysterious woman could have been. “Someone was in the house with him-then disappeared. He keeled over in his office upstairs. It’s impossible for a passerby to see into that room. The whole place is set too far back from the street for someone to merely be passing by and notice anything.”

“Your uncle definitely died of a massive coronary,” Samantha assured him. “But was it induced or natural? From what I could tell, it appeared to be natural. It’ll take four to six weeks to get the tox screens back, so I won’t be positive until then. They went out two weeks ago, so it’ll be at least another two weeks before I have anything to tell you.”

He knew toxicology reports were processed at the Fulmer Center in Santa Barbara. They performed toxicology reports for most of Southern California’s municipalities except Los Angeles, which was large enough to have its own lab.

Adam thanked her and left, his mind on his uncle. Calvin Hunter hadn’t outwardly shown how much he’d cared-at least not in a way a growing boy would notice-but his uncle had tried to help. Now it was his turn.

He had no intention of sitting on his ass and waiting. His gut instinct said Calvin Hunter had been murdered-just as his uncle had feared. Adam had given his word he would investigate. Nothing was stopping him. He planned to see just what his uncle had been involved in financially. That might lead him to the killer.

“THIS IS YOUR OFFICE,” Tyler Foley told Adam.

“Great view,” Adam responded, still in shock. Just before he’d left for Iraq, he and Tyler had barely scraped together enough money for a rat hole of an office in a run-down warehouse that had been converted to a warren of bleak little cubes.

Tyler grinned, the same ingratiating smile that had assured him the “good cop” role when he’d worked homicide with Adam. “I guess you didn’t believe my e-mails. I told you HiTech Security was going gangbusters.”

“I received your messages.” Adam could have said the e-mails had been the highlight of his existence, but one thing he’d already learned was that people didn’t have a clue about how bad things were in Iraq. Death or boredom were constant companions, depending on where you were at any given moment. A message from home was heaven-sent. Tyler’s brief accounts of the progress of their fledgling company had sent his spirits soaring. It propelled him out of the hellish confines of the present into the limitless possibilities of the future.

“Why don’t I review our accounts’ files so that I get up to speed,” suggested Adam.

A beat of silence, then Tyler said, “I’ll have Sherry teach you how to access the accounts on the computer.”

Adam glanced down at the chrome-and-glass desk that was pushed up against the window of his new office. A large flat-screen monitor dominated the space. Beside it was a keyboard and a telephone with buttons for several extensions.

“You’ve gone paperless?” he asked Tyler.

“Just about. It’s the wave of the future. Everything’s on a disc these days. You’ll learn-”

“Not a problem,” he assured Tyler. “I had a lot of downtime in Baghdad. One of the guys was a computer guru in his real life. He taught me a lot.”

Tyler cracked a laugh that might have sounded a bit forced; Adam wasn’t sure. “You’re probably ahead of me. Sherry handles everything. She knows where all the bodies are buried around here.”

Tyler left Adam to “make himself at home” in his new office. Adam sat at the desk and gazed out at the Pacific. The water was calm now and appeared to be a glistening sheet of stainless steel. He felt like a third wheel. Obviously, Tyler had done exceedingly well without him.

Where did he fit in now?

Did he fit in at all? Anywhere?

Well, he might be able to help grow the business even more. A receptionist, two women in the office. They could hire more people and expand, once they decided which direction to go in.

When Adam and Tyler had both tired of detective work that was usually drug-related, they’d decided to launch their own private-investigation company. They’d set up shop, seeing corporate security as an emerging field.

Then Adam’s unit had been called to duty. Obviously, the company had taken off in another direction. Adam had been able to tell a little about this from Tyler’s e-mails.

Adam surfed through the account files for the better part of an hour. The company seemed to be very successful. The receivables were up to date, showing how financially healthy the company was, but it wasn’t involved in corporate security, the way they’d intended when they’d formed HiTech.

Adam rose and walked out of his office, heading down the hall to Tyler’s office.

“Mr. Foley’s with a client,” called Sherry.

“Please let Tyler know I need to speak with him.”

Adam nodded to the brunette and returned to his office. He had the vague impression she didn’t approve of him. Who could blame her? His hair was in desperate need of a cut and his clothes were barely passable. He’d spent the earlier part of the morning, after his encounter with Whitney’s ex, sorting through the stuff he’d hastily put into a storage unit before shipping out. Most of it had mildewed during this overseas deployment and wasn’t even fit for Goodwill.

When it came right down to it, nothing much was left of his previous life. He needed to start over-with a fresh attitude. After all, by some miracle, his life had been spared. He should make the most of this second chance. As soon as he spoke with Tyler about the company’s direction, Adam was going shopping.

With nothing better to do, he Googled the articles written about his uncle’s death. The few lines recounting Calvin Hunter’s career in the navy were eclipsed by his win at the Frankfurt International Dog Show with Jasper. Not one of the articles mentioned a 911 call made from Calvin’s home by a woman who’d fled the scene before help arrived.

That mystery followed by a robbery during which the thieves had ignored priceless antiques, but had stolen his uncle’s computer and discs, disturbed Adam. What could be on his uncle’s computer? Expense reports, no doubt. His uncle must have claimed judging shows was his business and probably wrote off many questionable expenses, like a Citation and a villa in the Greek Isles.

Calvin Hunter had been in financial trouble, according to his attorney. Adam needed to find out just what caused the problem and the extent of the difficulty. If his uncle had been murdered as Adam suspected, the trail might begin with his finances. From his work as a homicide detective, Adam knew most murders were crimes of passion or the result of disputes over money. Judging from what Adam had seen of his uncle’s home, no woman had been sharing it with him. The money trail was the place to start.

Adam stood in his office, his fists rammed into the back pockets of his well-worn Dockers, staring out at the sea in the distance. He was just as glad his uncle hadn’t left him a lot of money-just buildings with debts. When all was said and done, he wanted to know he’d built his own business. It was all about pride, he decided.

His father had been the same way. Matthew Hunter had been a building contractor. When he’d unexpectedly keeled over from a heart attack, the small savings Adam had accumulated had gone toward finishing his father’s last job. It hadn’t been enough, and Adam had been forced to take out a loan to complete the project and protect his father’s good name.

Adam’s thoughts strayed from memories of his father to Whitney Marshall. He’d been dating a woman when he’d left for Iraq. He’d told Holly that it was over before he went, and she’d quickly replaced him. He’d thought returning might trigger old feelings, but it hadn’t. Instead he kept seeing Whitney’s deep green eyes and tousled blond hair. He pushed brain Pause and rewound his thoughts to last night. He could feel Whitney beneath him. So soft. So sexy.

So…right.

Whitney was gorgeous, and he’d wanted to tell her so, but thought better of it. How could any man in his right mind be so attracted to someone he’d thought was a burglar? Of course, Adam might not be in his right mind. He’d been changed in ways he was still discovering.

“Hey, Adam.” Tyler interrupted his thoughts. “You wanted to see me.”

Adam slowly turned away from the view and tried for a smile. “Yeah, I was looking over the accounts. Seems like we’re into private guard services big-time.”

“Look, you’ve been out of touch. There’s been an explosion of gated communities around here. Providing gate ambassadors-”

“Ambassadors?”

“It’s a fancy term everyone uses for guards. No one wants to say guards. That implies crime. So everyone goes with ambassadors.” Tyler chuckled. “It’s a no-brainer, and it’s our bread and butter.”

Adam detected more than a hint of defensiveness in his friend’s tone. He hadn’t intended to make him anxious. “You’ve really built the business while I was gone.” Adam didn’t remind Tyler that most of the money to start HiTech had been his. Tyler had put up very little cash, but he had done all the work when Adam’s unit was sent to Iraq. “I just thought we’d agreed to go into corporate security.”

“I know, but that’s a tough nut to crack.” His tone was accommodating, more like the Tyler that Adam had known before leaving. “Corporate security takes a lot of computer geeks and expensive equipment. I don’t think we should head in that direction yet.”

“I’m not second-guessing you,” Adam assured him. “I’m just getting a feel for what’s happening. You’ve done a helluva job.”

Tyler rewarded him with one of his trademark smiles, but Adam couldn’t help wondering what his friend was thinking. Adam knew he’d changed a lot in the last two and a half years. Apparently, Tyler was different as well. Were they going to be close friends again? Would they be able to work together?

Hell, he hoped so. During his time overseas, Tyler had been like a lifeline. He’d e-mailed Adam at least once a week. True, most of his messages had been about the company-very little personal stuff-but they’d meant a lot to Adam. Without many relatives and not having many close friends, Adam had counted on Tyler’s moral support.

“Look…” Tyler shuffled over to the window, looked out at the view for a moment, then continued, “About Holly. We didn’t mean…for anything to happen. It just did.”

“No problem,” Adam replied, and he meant it. Okay, maybe some small part of him had wanted Holly to wait and give their relationship a chance. But almost three years was a long time, especially since he’d given her the big kiss-off just before he’d left. Hell, most of the married guys in Iraq had problems making their marriages work long-distance. He’d been right to end the relationship when he had.

“You’ll hook up with someone new,” Tyler assured him. “You always were the one the women went after.”

Adam couldn’t help thinking about Whitney. He knew damn well she wouldn’t agree with Tyler. He’d frightened the wits out of her. Worse, she had an ex who was still in the picture.

Aw, hell. No one had ever accused him of being sensible. Something about Whitney sent his brain into a tailspin. He found her really sexy. And he’d spent so much time without a woman that he needed sex in the worst way-yet something inside him was desperate for so much more than a quickie.

What did he want? Seeing death so often-so close-made him value life. He wanted a family, and that meant kids…and a wife. He needed a woman, someone special to share things with, someone to discuss important things with-someone special. He kept thinking about Whitney. She might not be that person, but it wouldn’t hurt to investigate.

He smiled inwardly. Hell, he was good at investigating.