A Woman With Secrets. Inglath Cooper
or was her desperation making her see things?
She got down on her knees and poked it with an index finger. The baseboard moved. She shoved the shoe aside and gave the board a tug. It loosened easily.
Renewed hope tumbled through her like a shot of straight adrenaline. Pressing her left ear to the floor, she peered into the hole, then stuck her hand in, encountering something hard.
She fumbled for the flashlight, and then beaming it into the hole, spotted what looked like a leather bag.
Heart pounding, she dropped onto the carpet, planted one foot on either side of the opening, then grabbed the bottom of the exposed wall with both hands and pulled. It gave, and a small section of the wall opened up like the entrance to Aladdin’s cave.
She sat there for a stunned second or two. Then she reached out and eased the bag forward. She popped the latches and it opened. She froze.
Money. Stacks and stacks of it. She picked up a bundle and fanned the edges. All one hundred dollar bills. Too many to count.
She sat for a long time, not moving, just staring at what she’d found, the taste of revenge sweet on her tongue even as she reached a whole new level of understanding about her husband’s betrayal.
She tilted the satchel up and emptied its contents onto the floor. There had to be at least a million dollars. Maybe more.
So what now?
If she left this house with the money, Karl would be hot on her heels as soon as he discovered it missing.
But what could he do? Go to the police and accuse her of stealing back what was hers to begin with? Let him try. Stupid, once, yes. Next time, he would find her a worthy opponent.
She waited until she’d arrived back at her apartment before she called Tyler Bennett’s home number. He’d worked for her father for years and represented Kate in her divorce from Karl as well. After three rings, he answered with an indignant hello.
“It’s Kate,” she said. “Sorry to call so late.”
A fumbling sound was followed by, “It’s the middle of the night.”
“I know. You’ll be happy to hear I can now be removed from your delinquent accounts list.”
A big sigh, and then he said, “You called to tell me this?”
“I thought you’d be pleased.”
“You want to tell me what this is really about?”
“You won’t approve.”
“Kate, didn’t I tell you to stay away from Karl?”
“You did, yes. Which I agree, under normal circumstances, is very good advice. It just so happens he separated himself from a good portion of my money long enough for me to find it.” She glanced at the pile of money on her bed and smiled.
The ensuing stretch of silence made her wonder if he had fallen back to sleep. “I realize your fondest dream is to put Karl in jail,” he said in a careful voice. “But as your attorney, I have to tell you this kind of behavior is going to land you behind bars.”
“For taking back what was mine to begin with?” she asked, unable to keep the indignation from her voice.
“There are ways to handle these things, Kate. This is not one of them.”
“Yes, I’ve had a relatively good indoctrination to the legal way.”
“And what do you think he’s going to do when he finds the money missing?”
“I’d love to be there to see it, but I think I’ll forego the pleasure and give him a little time to cool off. In fact, that’s why I’m calling. You and Peg are leaving for a cruise day after tomorrow, right? She mentioned a buddy of yours from law school runs the tours.”
“Yeah,” Tyler said cautiously.
“How much would you take for those tickets?” she asked.
A full fifteen minutes later, she had finally convinced him to sell her the tickets. Although he made a valiant effort to convince her she might be stepping off the ledge of sanity.
“I’ll pick them up at your office first thing in the morning,” she said and then hung up. She quickly stuffed the money back in the satchel, the thick shell of self-disgust she’d been wearing these past months melting under a wave of self-congratulation.
In finding Karl’s stash, she had reversed the wheel of fortune. For a washed-up artist who’d been robbed of her demolished inheritance, it was a step in the right direction. Maybe Karl would be the one applying for a job at the Golden Arches.
She closed the latches on the leather bag and got to her feet. Paybacks were hell.
CHAPTER TWO
It is a true saying that a man must eat a peck of salt with his friend before he knows him.
—Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra
COLE HUNTER RESTED AN ELBOW on the side of the phone booth, the receiver tucked inside his left shoulder, his gaze fixed on the steamy pavement beneath his feet. The Miami sun burned through the back of his white T-shirt while barely suppressed frustration bucked inside him.
“Look, Sam, no insult intended here,” he said, struggling to keep his voice even, while barely restraining the urge to shout, “but why should I believe you’re any closer to finding my daughter now than you were all the other times?”
“I know I’ve told you I was close before,” Sam said, his diplomacy failing to coat Cole’s irritation, “but I’ve managed to connect with a discarded boyfriend of your ex-wife. Apparently, she dumped him, and he’s not too happy with her.”
Cole had no trouble believing this. Casting people aside, after all, was Pamela’s forte. “And he said he knows where she is?” he asked, trying not to let himself get too hopeful.
Lately, he’d begun to think he would never see Ginny again. And in a way, it had become easier to let himself believe that than to believe in something that might never actually happen.
“Said he does.”
“And what does he want in return for that information?”
“Twenty thousand dollars.”
“Then give it to him,” Cole said without hesitation, glad for once of the investments he’d made early in his law career, the returns on which he now lived. “I’ll make a transfer to your account as soon as we hang up.”
“Done. But I’ll have to wait for him to call me.”
“Are you telling me you can’t get in touch with him?” he asked, incredulous.
“That’s the way the guy wanted it.”
Disbelief blasted through Cole, skepticism fast on its heels. “Are you sure he’s on the up and up?”
“He insisted on playing things his way. Look, Cole, I know how anxious you are to find your daughter,” the detective said, “but you’ve waited this long. Don’t give up now. I have a really good feeling about this lead.”
Cole wanted to believe him. And what choice did he have but to go along? If this Pamela castoff could help locate Ginny, then Cole could stomach the idea of doing it his way. “I’ll be going out for the next ten days this afternoon,” he said. “You have the numbers to reach me. The reception’s decent once I get out of port. Call as soon as you hear anything at all, okay?”
“Will do,” Sam said and hung up.
Cole placed the receiver back on its hook, but didn’t immediately let go. Some inner quirk of superstition kept his hand where it was, as if to sever the connection would also sever the possibility that he might actually find his daughter this time. It had been almost two years since he had seen Ginny. Nearly