Yuletide Fugitive Threat. Sandra Robbins
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 thought I couldn’t hold my own in conversation with the intellectual people who frequented the events. So he quit taking me.”
He opened his mouth to speak but then seemed to think better of it. He cleared his throat and looked back down at the notebook. “The police arrested Tony Chapman for Kyle’s murder. Did you know him?”
“No, I’d never heard of him, until he was arrested. Then a few days later I was notified he had made bail. And soon after that, he disappeared. Except he started calling me all the time.”
“And you have no idea what it is he thinks Kyle has hidden from him?”
She shook her head and frowned. “I can’t imagine what it is. Kyle never talked to me about his business dealings in any kind of detail. Everything he told me was very general. I don’t even know if he and Tony had business dealings. I’m beginning to wonder if it wasn’t something illegal. And if there was a falling-out with them, and that’s why Tony killed him.”
Lucas nodded. “That’s a logical explanation, but I don’t guess we’ll know for sure until I can find Tony.” He paused a moment and then looked at her again. “There are lots of unanswered questions about this whole case.”
“I know.”
“One of them is, how did Tony know you had come to see me today? When I answered the phone, he called me by name—he knew you were with me. Did you see a car following you when you drove here? Or did one drive by after you parked in front of my house?”
She shook her head and yawned. “No. I checked all the way. And when I left the diner, I took a lot of back streets to get here. It was so late, the streets were empty—I’d have noticed if someone was following me. There was no one behind me, and no one drove by after I arrived here.”
Lucas closed the notebook and reached for her coffee cup. “Would you like a refill?”
“That would be nice.”
He laid the notebook on the coffee table and walked from the room. Mia scooted down on the couch, stretched her legs out and snuggled into the soft cushions. The stress of the past few weeks had left her tense and wary, but for some reason she felt safer now than she had in years.
She’d made the right decision. If anyone could help her, Lucas could, and he’d seemed understanding about her lack of funds at the present time. She had no illusions about how he felt about her. He still hated her. She could see it in his eyes. But he was willing to help her, and that was all she needed. Someone she trusted who could put a stop to the terror in her life.
With a sigh she closed her eyes and drifted into a deep sleep.
* * *
Lucas walked back into the living room and stopped at the door. A soft snore came from Mia’s prone figure sprawled on the couch. She had to be dead on her feet after the night she’d had. He set the cup of coffee down and reached for an afghan draped across a chair next to the sofa.
As he covered her with the colorful blanket, he thought of his mother and the hours she’d spent crocheting this beautiful afghan and how thrilled she’d been when she saw how he liked it. He spread it over Mia’s body and pulled it up around her shoulders.
Then he stepped back and stared down at her. He still couldn’t believe she was here. Asleep on his sofa. And just as attractive as she’d been when they were in college.
He shook his head and took a step back. No use thinking that way. What was between them had died seven years ago when she chose Kyle instead of him. And nothing was going to change that.
He turned around and strode again to the kitchen, where he began to put the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher. As he worked, he recalled all the things Mia had said while they were eating. Some things didn’t make sense.
Mia had always been vivacious and energetic and enjoyed being with people. How had