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Maximum Risk

Ruth Cardello

  She turned away again and this time didn’t stop. He watched her hire a taxi and get into the backseat—all without looking back at him once.

  The chill of the winter air drove Max back into the restaurant to get his coat, but the cold he felt wasn’t only from the weather. He told himself he was glad she was gone. He returned to the main house half convinced she’d return and apologize.

  She didn’t.

  He called the island airport. She had flown back to the mainland shortly after leaving him at the restaurant. She was probably halfway to New York already.

  Tara’s words had stung. What did she mean, he was better than this? Better than what? He could buy and sell the whole damn island without making a dent in his finances. He was a powerful man. A respected man. What part of that wasn’t good enough for Tara?

  He regretted lashing out at her when she’d informed him that she, too, had lied to him. If he could go back in time, he wouldn’t have said the words she had thrown back at him. He wasn’t a cruel man. It had never been his intention to hurt her.

  The more he thought about it, the more Max decided Tara’s leaving was for the best. She was obviously looking for more than he was willing to give. That would have brought an ugly and swift conclusion to their relationship regardless of when they realized it.

  Max called for a car to drive him to the airport and had his pilot ready his plane. It was already dark, but he didn’t want to spend another minute on the island. As he stepped into the back of the hired car, he took one last look at the row of palatial homes dimly illuminated by the light of the moon and shook his head in disgust. He called Dale as soon as he was on the way to the airport and told him to move forward with the resort project. “Start the demolition phase ASAP.”

  The decision didn’t improve his mood. Nor did his pilot, who rushed over to meet him at the car and explained he was concerned about the plane’s engine and wanted to have it double-checked. “I can have it looked at in the morning. The shop is closed tonight. It might be nothing, but I’d rather be sure. Would you be okay with staying until then?”

  Normally Max would have been. When someone traveled as much as Max did there were bound to be glitches, even when money was no issue. However, it was late, and he was tired. He snapped, “Would I be here at the airport if I wanted to stay on the island another night?”

  “I’ll make a few calls. Maybe there’s a plane we can hire here, or I can have one sent over from the mainland.”

  “Do what you need to do, but get me off this damn island tonight.”

  “Yes, sir.” His pilot headed inside the main building of the small airport.

  Max thought he was alone, but the driver spoke beside him. “My mother lives next to one of the guys who maintains the planes here. I can have her run over to see if he can come back.”

  Although it was a helpful suggestion, Max still asked, “Wouldn’t it be easier to call him?”

  The driver shrugged a shoulder. He was in his early twenties, and Max wondered if he still lived with his mother. “Nah, he turns his phone off at night. Leo has a new baby, and his wife is really touchy about anyone waking it up. If you walk over there real quietly, though, sometimes she doesn’t mind. He’s the best mechanic we have on the island. Kenny’s good, too, but at this hour he’s probably at the bar, and he’s not as good after three drinks. He’ll say he is, but I wouldn’t bet my life on it. I’ll call my mom. She won’t mind.”

  His pilot returned and said, “There’s nothing here that can go out tonight. I called a place on the mainland, and they’re calling around to find a pilot. We should be able to find something.”

  “Yes, we should,” Max said in frustration. He looked back at the driver. “What’s your name again?”

  “Michael, but the locals call me Waffle.”

  “Waffle? Like the food?”

  “Yeah, like the food. You get it?” Michael said again with slow emphasis and pride.

  Max rubbed a hand over his eyes. He didn’t, and he couldn’t believe he was going to actually say it, but he didn’t have much choice: “I’d appreciate it, Waffle, if you’d call your mother and ask her to see if Leo’s awake.”

  “Will do,” Waffle said and stepped away to call his mother.

  Max’s pilot opened his mouth to ask something, but Max raised a hand to silence him. “Don’t ask, but if Leo does show up, have him look at the engine. I’ll be inside getting a coffee.”

  Waffle fell into step beside Max. “Mom says there’s a light on over there, so it looks promising.”

  Max looked at the smile on the younger man’s face and sighed. “I’m getting coffee. You want to join me?”

  “Thanks,” Waffle said. “I love dropping off people at the airport because it has the only twenty-four-hour restaurant. And do you know what they serve?”

  “Waffles?” Max asked dryly.

  The young man grinned from ear to ear. “You get me. That’s so cool.” His phone rang. He answered it, said thank you, and hung up. “Leo’s on his way over. Looks like you’ll be flying out tonight. If anyone can figure out what’s wrong with your plane and fix it, it’s him.” He pocketed his phone. “Oh, and Mom’s sending you a piece of pie. She’s on a baking binge. Gets like this every winter. I swear she’s the reason everyone on the island is five pounds heavier come spring.”

  “You mother makes pie for everyone on the island?”

  “Not all at once,” Waffle said, as if Max had said something ridiculous. “She doles out slices as people need them. Like you. Tonight. She figures you’re stuck here. You’re probably not happy about it. Pie makes everybody smile.”

  “You’re serious?” Max asked at the door of the airport restaurant.

  “Pie and waffles. Two things no one should live without,” Waffle joked and walked through the door Max held open.

  “Can you excuse me for a minute?” Max asked.

  “Sure,” Waffle said cheerfully. “I’ll grab us a booth.”

  Max walked out of the restaurant, away from prying ears, and called his assistant again. “Dale, hold off on moving forward on the resort. Don’t knock down anything yet.”

  “I just sent out an email telling everyone to start shipping equipment there tomorrow, but I can email everyone again and tell them to hold off.”

  “Do it.”

  “Are you okay, Mr. Andrade? I’ve never seen you like this before.”

  “They make pie here, Dale. And they bring it to you when you’re sad. Fucking pie.”

  “Is it some sort of contaminated pie that would make for bad press for the island and therefore the resort?”

  “No, it’s homemade by a mother who makes the whole island fat by spring.”

  “I don’t know what you want me to say, Mr. Andrade.”

  Max rubbed his forehead in frustration. “Just cancel the demolition team. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He walked back into the airport restaurant feeling oddly hopeful and thoroughly miserable at the same time.

  Chapter Thirteen

  A week later, in her own off-the-rack clothing with her hair tied back in a simple ponytail, Tara sat in her office at New Holmes, frustrated that she didn’t feel more enthusiastic about having returned to find two new clients who were anxious to hire her. She wanted to step right back into the life she’d had before Maddy had pulled her into the Andrade world. Before Max.

  There was no denying, though, that documenting proof of men betraying the women in their lives was now depressing. I may have to take on some positive investigative jobs. Help someone find a lost dog. Anything but what I’m doing now.

  What is wrong with me? I used to like this job. She didn’t like the answer that came to her. Although she’d caught a boyfriend cheating on her, her feelings for him had barely scratched the surface of what she was capable of feeling for a man. The emotional fallout from his betrayal had been minimal because she hadn’t actually loved him.

  Whereas walking away from Max had left her raw and vulnerabl
e. Not that I love Max. I don’t. I can’t. Loving him would be a monumental mistake and ridiculous, since I barely know him.

  We have chemistry. That’s all.

  Tara laid her head down on her desk. It’s a good thing he let me leave. I was beginning to get delusional. I falsely lent significance to everything he said, every touch of his hand. He told me it wasn’t there, but I saw what I wanted to see.

  Heard what I wanted to hear.

  Broke my own damn heart.

  Tara would have closed her office for the day and gone home, but being with Dyson and Brigitte lately was equally painful. Dyson had all but moved in. He must have knocked her panties off with some amazing sex because Brigitte claimed to be ready to try monogamy. The two of them walked around with silly smiles on their faces, sneaking not-so-subtle caresses when they thought Tara wasn’t watching.

  Tara was happy for them. Well, she was trying to be, anyway.

  Maybe I could live in this office.

  I don’t need an apartment.

  I won’t be able to afford one soon, anyway, if I don’t get off my ass and call one of these clients back. It’s nice to dream about changing my life, but I should make sure I can pay next month’s rent first.

  She thought about the fifty thousand dollars she’d walked away from. I should have kept it. Technically I worked for it. But no, I had to feel guilty about everything. It didn’t seem right to be paid when I couldn’t complete the job.

  What did all that integrity get me?

  Nothing.

  I should tell Brigitte to stay at Dyson’s place instead of ours, but I can’t do that when they look so happy. I should tell Maddy to stop calling me, but she seems to actually care how I’m doing in the aftermath of breaking it off with Max. It’d be like kicking a puppy.

  No wonder I failed at being a real private investigator. I’m a softie, a sucker.

  I deserve to live in this office.

  “I hate to interrupt what looks like a busy day at New Holmes.”

  No. Please, no. Tara raised her head off her desk and looked into the amused emerald eyes of Alethea Niarchos. “I was just about to . . .” Tara’s voice trailed off when it was obvious that Alethea wasn’t going to believe whatever excuse she came up with. “What can I do for you?”

  Perfectly dressed in a cream silk blouse and tan trousers, Alethea took the seat in front of Tara’s desk. “Before we talk, could you hand me your phone?”

  “My phone?”

  “Yes, your cell phone. I need it for a minute.”

  Reluctantly, Tara handed her phone across to the redhead. “Is yours not working?”

  Alethea plugged a wire into Tara’s phone and said, “Your phone has spyware on it. You really should sweep it once a week. Anyone could be listening to anything you say on it. It can even be used as a listening device.” She pulled the wire out. “There, it’s clean.” She turned it over, and took the battery out of the back, and handed the phone back to Tara. “You can’t be too careful.”

  Tara looked down at her phone, then back at Alethea. “My phone had spyware? Why would anyone bug my phone? And how would you know they had?”

  Alethea smoothed the knees of her trousers as she crossed her legs. Her smile was shamelessly unrepentant. “I needed to know if you were everything you said you were.”

  “You bugged my phone?”

  Rolling her eyes impatiently, Alethea said, “Can we get past this and on to the reason I’m here?”

  Tara stood. “No. I can’t believe you did that. How did you do it? When?”

  “It was pathetically easy. You left your purse unattended at Gio’s dinner. You have a lot to learn about going undercover.”

  Tara walked out from behind her desk and started pacing her office. “So, what does this mean? You’ve been eavesdropping on my phone conversations since the dinner?” Another though struck her and Tara’s mouth dropped open. “Did you also use it as a listening device?”

  “Don’t worry, I digitally recorded everything and fast-forwarded through the X-rated parts of your life. Which, I might add, there was an impressive amount.”

  “Oh, my God,” Tara said, covering her face with her hands. Forcing herself to face her nemesis again, Tara sank into the chair next to Alethea. “So, what happens now? Are you blackmailing me with it? Because I have nothing. The only people you’ll hurt by exposing what I did are the people you claim to care about.”

  One red eyebrow rose. “I’m not here to hurt you, Tara. I like you. I deleted the recordings. They’re gone.”

  “You like me?”

  Alethea nodded.

  “This is you liking someone?”

  A small smile curled one side of Alethea’s painted lips. “Oh, honey, you don’t want to know what I would have been capable of if I had discovered your intentions were less than honorable.” She tapped her nails on the arm of the chair. “But that doesn’t matter, because you’re exactly who you said you were. I couldn’t find any evidence you are anything but a nice person who likes to help people. I admire that. I wish you and Max had worked out. He needs someone like you in his life. I know you’re sad about how it ended. If you need someone to talk to . . .”

  Tara sat there for a moment, trying to wrap her mind around what Alethea had told her. “I am not talking to you about Max. You and I are not friends.”

  Alethea pursed her lips. “We could be.”

  “No, we can’t be. You’ve insulted me, manipulated me, and if that weren’t enough, you violated my privacy.” Tara gripped the arm of her chair. “I don’t want to be your friend. I want to slap you.”

  Alethea made a face. “I get that a lot, but let’s move on, shall we? There is actually a very important reason why I’m here today.”

  “Not yet.” Tara took several deep breaths. “You owe me an apology.”

  “I’m sorry,” Alethea said impatiently.

  “A sincere one.”

  Both of Alethea’s eyebrows rose. “I’m sorry if you were offended, but I will always do whatever is necessary to protect those I love.”

  “That’s not technically an apology either. Let me help you. Repeat after me: Tara, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I shouldn’t have bugged your phone. It won’t happen again.”

  Alethea threw back her head and laughed out loud. “We need to get you and Max back together, because you would fit perfectly into our group. I can see why both Maddy and Julia adore you.”

  “This isn’t getting anywhere,” Tara said, rubbing a hand across her eyes. “Why are you here?”

  Suddenly serious, Alethea reached down into her bag and pulled out a flash drive. She handed it to Tara. “You were right about Cogent. Gio is being blackmailed by someone in his own company. He doesn’t know who it is, but the blackmailer’s name is in this file, proving his guilt. This situation will need to be dealt with delicately. I don’t believe he is working alone. Money went missing when Gio first took over the company, and it’s happening again. Gio covered it up the first time and is doing it again now. It’s not going to look good for him if this is exposed. He’s creating a messy trail of false documents. Someone needs to get in there and clean house.”

  Tara looked at the flash drive on her open palm. “Don’t you think you should be the one to bring this to Gio?”

  Alethea shook her head. “Hell no. If I do, I have to admit how I came across that information. I promised I wouldn’t hack into anyone’s company servers anymore. I’ll never hear the end of this if I admit to being involved. You can do this. All you have to do is get Gio out of his office and alone. Tell him you are a private detective hired by Maddy, and you came across his problem during your investigation.” She took a card out of her bag and handed it to Tara. “Tell him you know a woman who can make evidence disappear. He doesn’t need to know it’s me. I’ll use a trusted third party. We’ll remove anything that could incriminate him, then we’ll go after this blackmailer.”

  “I don’t know,” Tara said slowly. �
€œI’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “Yes, you have,” Alethea said with confidence. “You take bad news and sell it to people as a chance to start over all the time at New Holmes. This is no different. Only instead of photos of some jackass cheating on his wife, you’re going to help save a man’s business. You can do this. We can do this together.”

  Tara closed her hand over the flash drive. She cocked her head to the side and looked at Alethea with fresh eyes. “Are you really that afraid people will be angry with you for helping Gio?”

  There was no humor, no sarcasm, in Alethea’s eyes. “Yes, I am. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. The people I love finally trust me. I don’t want to disappoint them again.”

  “But you’d be helping someone they care about.”

  Alethea shrugged sadly. “Marc says it’s not the result people can’t forgive me for, it’s how I achieve it.” She smiled as if a memory amused her. “He says I have boundary issues.”

  “You think?” Tara said, reluctantly finding humor in at least this part of Alethea’s visit. She placed the flash drive on her desk. “I’ll take this to Gio. I’ll tell him what you said. And I won’t tell him about you.”

  Alethea stood and gathered her bag. “I know you won’t. I trust you, and that says a lot.”

  Tara walked with Alethea to her office door. “You’re not as bad as I thought you were, Alethea.” She looked around her office. “Hey, you don’t have anything else bugged, do you?”

  Alethea laughed and walked out the door.

  “I’m serious,” Tara called after her.

  Tara went to her desk and took out a sticky note. She wrote: research spyware and how to detect it, then she plopped back into her swivel chair.

  Looks like I’m going to see Gio.

  That’s not going to help me forget about Max.

  Max was back in the city he’d told himself a week ago he wouldn’t step foot in anytime soon. This time he was downtown in a part of neighborhood he’d never had reason to visit before. It wasn’t a particularly dangerous area, but it wasn’t where businesses that made much money had offices.