Park Avenue Secrets: Marriage, Manhattan Style. Barbara Dunlop

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      “Did you get hold of Kendrick?” Gage asked without preamble.

      Reed shook his head, shutting the door behind him before taking his place at the head of the oblong table. Fresh-brewed coffee had been placed on the sideboard, and a bank of windows overlooked the fall colors of the park many stories below. “His secretary says he’s in meetings in Washington all week.”

      “He doesn’t have a cell phone?” asked Collin.

      “He can’t be disturbed,” Reed quoted, letting his expression tell the room the excuse rang hollow to him. He’d never had a problem getting hold of Kendrick before. In fact, it was usually Kendrick who called him.

      “We need his denial,” said Trent. “At least, we need him to publicly deny having given you insider information. And I’d prefer to have it on videotape.”

      “You’ll have it,” said Reed, hoping it would be soon. It was in everyone’s best interest—including the senator’s—to have him on the record in this. In the absence of identifying the blackmailer, Kendrick’s backing was their best chance of stopping the investigation in its tracks.

      “Did you get anywhere with the police?” Reed asked Selina.

      “I had a chat with Detective Arnold McGray.” She slid a thick sheaf of paper across the table to Reed. “They’ve been surprisingly cooperative. Here’s the list of blackmail victims in the building.”

      “The cops are at a dead end,” Collin put in. “They’re hoping the extra manpower will help.”

      “Person power,” Selina put in.

      “Sorry,” said Collin with an edge of sarcasm. “I keep forgetting you’re a girl.”

      “Shall I start wearing pink ruffles?”

      Reed contemplated Selina’s no-nonsense black blazer, white turtleneck, short cropped hair and minimal makeup. With those dark brows and that straight slant to her mouth, she’d look ridiculous in pink.

      Reed sighed and picked up the letter, reading the names of Julia Prentice, who before her marriage to Max Rolland was blackmailed regarding her out-of-wedlock pregnancy, Trent Tanford for his relationship with murder victim Marie Endicott, and Prince Sebastian who’d also received a threatening letter.

      In the prince’s case, the letter writer didn’t ask for any money, and it was eventually proven to be his ex-girlfriend. So, the Prince Sebastian incident didn’t seem to be related.

      “Any connection between mine and the other two?” Reed asked Selina.

      “Three different threats,” she answered. “Three unrelated incidents. Three untraceable Grand Cayman bank accounts.” Then she paused. “Same bank.”

      Reed allowed himself a small smile. So, the three were likely related. That gave them a whole lot more information to go on.

      “I’ll start looking for connections between the cases,” said Selina.

      “Any guess as to why mine was ten million and the others were only one?” asked Reed.

      Selina gave a wry twist of her lips. “Neither of the others paid up. Maybe expenses were mounting.”

      “You bet your ass we didn’t pay up,” muttered Trent.

      “You should be flattered,” Gage directed his comment to Reed. “The guy obviously thinks you’re solvent.”

      “Flattered isn’t exactly how I’m feeling.” He didn’t need this crap in his life. His life was plenty complicated enough.

      “What about Marie Endicott’s murder?” Collin brought up the topic they’d avoided so far.

      “I don’t like speculating about that,” said Trent.

      Neither did Reed. But ignoring the possibility that the murder was tied up in the blackmail scheme wouldn’t change the facts, and it wouldn’t reduce the danger.

      “The police aren’t ready to call it a murder,” said Selina. “But that missing security tape makes my hair stand on end. And I think we have to operate on the assumption that they’re connected.”

      “That’s a pretty big assumption,” said Collin.

      “Yeah? Well, I’m preparing for the worst-case scenario.” Then she turned to Trent. “I wonder. Did the blackmailer commit murder to set you up? Or did he target you after learning of the murder?”

      “My guess would be that he’s opportunistic,” said Trent. “After the murder, he set me up.”

      “Generally,” said Selina, “there are two reasons for a murder. Passion or greed.”

      “The blackmailer is definitely greedy,” said Reed. “And if he operated on passion, we’d probably have another dead body, not more blackmail letters. He’s got to be ticked off at us.”

      “Fair point,” Collin put in.

      “But we don’t know anything for sure,” said Trent.

      Trent was right. And Reed wasn’t in a position to take any chances. Three people in his building had been blackmailed and one was dead.

      He slid the list back to Selina. “Hire as many people as you need. And put somebody on Elizabeth.” Then he paused and drew a breath. “But tell him to keep his distance. Nobody talks to my wife about the blackmail.” He glanced around the room to drive home his point.

      Everybody nodded, and he rose to his feet.

      He was keeping Elizabeth safe, but it was also his job to keep her calm. When this was over, they had a family to start. And, God help him, it was going to be over soon.

      Three

      “Your marriage is far from over,” said Hanna as she and Elizabeth made their way past groups of diners to a corner table in their favorite deli off Times Square.

      Out of habit, Elizabeth had ordered a thick corned beef on rye, but she was pretty sure her clenched stomach wouldn’t allow her to eat.

      “He won’t talk to me about anything important,” she told Hanna. “He won’t make love with me. And when I ask for more information, he gets angry. How can I stay married to a man who won’t let me into his life?”

      Hanna took a sip of her diet cola. “Stop trying.”

      The answer set Elizabeth back in her chair. “Stop trying to be married?” That wasn’t the answer she’d expected.

      “Stop trying to muscle your way into his life.” Hanna took a bite of her sandwich.

      “That doesn’t make any sense.” They were married. Elizabeth was supposed to be in Reed’s life.

      Hanna peeled a paper napkin from the metal dispenser and dabbed the corners of her mouth. “I say this as your best friend, СКАЧАТЬ