Yuletide Fugitive Threat. Sandra Robbins

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      She laughed and arched an eyebrow. “So you’re still riding a motorcycle?”

      He shrugged. “Yeah. It gives me something to do when I’m off work, which isn’t very often.”

      “I suppose your mother is still as concerned about your dangerous hobby as ever,” she said as she scooped another bite onto her fork. “By the way, how are your parents? I always liked them.”

      She sensed a sudden chill in the friendly atmosphere and sat back in her chair. “Is something wrong, Lucas?”

      He raised his head and stared at her, his eyes dark and foreboding. “If I’m going to take your case, I think we need to get something straight right off.”

      She laced her fingers together in her lap and gripped them tightly. “A-all r-right. What is it?”

      He leaned forward, a frown creasing his forehead. “I think it would be better if we don’t mention our past relationship. There’s no need to revisit ancient history, whether it’s talking about what I used to cook, my parents or whatever. This is strictly business. You’re hiring me to do a job for you. I’ll do it, and you’ll pay me when it’s over. Can you agree to that?”

      She struggled to keep her voice steady as she answered him. “I can, but if you’re going to take my case, then there’s something I need to tell you.”

      He tilted his head to one side and eyed her suspiciously. “What is it?”

      “I know your services don’t come cheap, and I will pay you. It just may take some time. Kyle’s lawyer is in the process of untangling all his business dealings. I’ve been allowed to stay in the house for a while. Although it’s the last place I want to be, I don’t have anywhere else to go until the estate is settled. I have very little money. I thought you should know.”

      Lucas stared at her for a moment before he set his coffee cup down and leaned toward her. “I can understand about the will not being settled. But what about your money?”

      Her eyes grew wide. “What money?”

      “That you make from your job.”

      “I don’t have a job. I’ve never had one.”

      His mouth gaped open, and he blinked his eyes. “All you ever wanted to do was to own a dance studio and teach children ballet. You studied for years. What happened?”

      Her stomach was beginning to roil at all his questions, and she jumped to her feet and grabbed her plate. She walked to the garbage disposal and shoveled her leftover food into the sink before she turned back around. “I thought this was going to be strictly business,” she retorted. “Do you need to know to solve the case? The studio never happened—end of story.”

      He stepped closer to her. “Fine, then. What about your father? If you don’t have enough money to live on until the estate is settled, couldn’t he help you?”

      She shook her head but didn’t turn around to face him. “My father died three years ago. He and Kyle got along great.” Much better than she had ever gotten along with her distant, disapproving father. “So much so that he made Kyle the executor of his estate. My lawyer told me I’ll be able to get that inheritance back, but it’s going to take a while.”

      “I’m sorry. I didn’t know about your father. But what about friends? Could they help you?”

      Mia clenched her fists and gritted her teeth before she whirled and faced Lucas. “No! Don’t you understand? I’m not like you, Lucas. I don’t have a family that cares what happens to me, and I don’t have friends who want to help me.” Tears welled in her eyes. “When I was racking my brain trying to think who I could go to for help, you were the only one who came to mind. A college boyfriend that I hadn’t seen in seven years. You probably haven’t given me a thought in years, and yet you were the only one I felt like I could turn to for help.”

      She covered her face with her hands and began to sob. After a few moments, Lucas reached out and patted her arm. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

      He reached for her napkin and stuck it in her hand. She began to wipe the tears from her face and shake her head. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have gone to pieces like that, but I’ve been so scared ever since those phone calls started. I knew you were my only hope of getting anything done. Will you please help me, Lucas?”

      The look on his face told her he still wasn’t pleased about the prospect. “I’ll take the job of tracking Tony Chapman. After all, that’s what we’re in business for, bringing in fugitives from justice. But I can’t guarantee how long it will take me.”

      Mia wiped her eyes again. “It can’t be soon enough for me. I want to try and get on with my life.”

      “I hope it won’t take long either. But for now, I need some information from you. Why don’t we take our coffee in the living room, and you can fill me in on all the details about Kyle?”

      She blew her nose and smiled through her tears. “Okay.”

      They walked back to the living room and settled on the sofa, their cups in their hands. Mia pulled her knees up and curled into the corner of the sofa, so she could sit facing him. He reached for a notebook that was lying on the coffee table, flipped it open and pulled a pen out. “Now, tell me about Kyle’s job.”

      She wrapped her hand around the mug and thought for a moment before she answered. “Kyle went to work at Shackleford Imports right after we were married. They sell antiques and antiquities in their showroom, as well as working with clients on arranging special purchases. Kyle was the import/export manager. It was his job to oversee the paperwork and the monetary transactions on all the international acquisitions, as well as working with customs agents on all items coming into or leaving the country. He also handled special clients for the company.”

      Lucas wrote as she talked and didn’t look up as he asked his next question. “It sounds like an important job. I assume he was paid well.”

      “He was. I don’t really know how much—he handled all our finances—but he told me once it was in the six figures.”

      Lucas gave a low whistle. “The owner must have thought he did a good job to pay that well.”

      Mia shrugged. “I suppose so. Mr. Shackleford has been ill for the past year and a half, and Kyle was basically running the business.”

      “Did the other employees like him?”

      “I don’t know.”

      He glanced up at her answer and then directed his gaze back to his note-taking. “And why is that?”

      “Because I never got to know any of them very well.”

      Lucas slowly raised his head to stare at her, a frown wrinkling his forehead. “Shackleford’s is well-known in the city. There are stories in the paper all the time about events they’re having to show a new acquisition or the opening of some exhibit they’ve come up with. He worked there for seven years, Mia. Didn’t you go with him to any of the events?”

      She shook her head. “A few times when we first married, but that soon ended. He СКАЧАТЬ