Hostage Midwife (3 page)

Who sent him?
And why?

Chapter Four

Monday, Noon

During the drive from Valiant to Serena’s farm, Nick was steamed. He hated that Kelly was being harassed. She was completely innocent—a bystander who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

When he got her phone call, he’d been tangled in a mass of corporate red tape generated by the lawyers, the police, his family and employees.
Everyone looked to him—as the most senior member of the Spencer clan—to make the necessary decisions. Nick was expected to step up and take control.

Truth be told, he was probably the least informed person in the room. Working out of his office in Breckenridge, he managed to avoid most of the corporate decisions. That was his brother’s job. Unfortunately, Jared was still in Singapore.

At a mailbox painted with flowers and butterflies, he made a left turn and drove down a long, curving driveway. Hearing Kelly’s voice had given him a focus—a problem he could deal with. He needed to find out who had contacted her and why and, most of all, if she was in any kind of danger from this fake investigator.

Though he’d never been to the farm owned by Serena and Nigel Bellows, he knew
he was in the right place when he saw the farmhouse—a mash-up of architectural styles that Marian had described as crazy. From modern A-frame to the Victorian tower topped by an ornate weather vane to the wild splashes of color painted on the barn, none of the construction made sense. And yet, he felt a genuine smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he parked and got out of his SUV.

In
keeping with the fanciful atmosphere, a fat goat sashayed toward him, followed by a little blond girl wearing a yellow sweatshirt and a tiara. “You will be the prince,” she said to him. “You’re supposed to slay the dragon. It’s your job.”

He reached down and scratched the goat between her floppy ears. “Is this the dragon?”

“That’s a goat, silly. It’s Fifi.”

“And what’s your name?”

She flipped her hair away from her small, freckled face. “I’m Princess Butterfly.”

She was a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. He wanted to hug Princess Butterfly and her pet goat for reminding him that being irritated by lawyers and accountants was a sheer waste of time. If he wanted to get the job done, he had to step up and slay the corporate dragon.

Kelly raced around the corner
of the house, wearing a red sheet as a cape and a cardboard hat with scales and spikes. Her brown sweatshirt was raggedy and oversized. Two other small children and a llama accompanied her.

“Hi, Nick.” She gave him a little wave, and then she roared. “The dragon is nigh.”

Princess Butterfly ducked behind him. “Get her.”

He braced himself and pointed imperiously toward Kelly. “No
way, dragon. I banish you.”

She whipped off her cape and hat as she collapsed into the dirt. “Oh, no, I’m melting.”

All the kids ran to help her. “No, dragon, don’t die. That’s not how it works.”

She stopped melting. “It’s not?”

“No,” they chorused. “You turn into another princess.”

“Okay.” She popped back up. “I’m Princess Kelly.”

After a few more reassurances, she
sent the children back to the house and came toward him. Her straight hair was messy from being a half-melted dragon, and she tucked the loose strands behind her ears. “Thanks for playing along.”

“I didn’t know you were so ferocious.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m a fire-breather.” She picked up the sheet and folded it under her arm. “You really didn’t need to come all the way out here. I could have
driven into town.”

“Seeing this house is worth the drive.”

“Unusual, huh?”

“I’ve never experienced anything like it.” And that was saying a lot. Nick had a master’s degree in architecture and had designed hotels, condos and custom houses. “I did a house in Aspen that looks like a flying saucer, and a Gothic-type castle for a rock star. Fun projects, but not as unique as this farmhouse.”

“The people who live here make it happy and interesting.”

“That’s always true. A house is only a shell.”

She reached toward him and lightly rested her hand on his sleeve. Her chin tilted up, and her pale green eyes scanned his face as though searching for something important. “I’m sorry about your uncle’s death.”

Other people had offered condolences, but he sensed true empathy
from her. “I appreciate your concern.”

“Tell me about Samuel.”

“He was a crazy old man, eccentric as hell.” That was the standard line. Most people would describe his uncle that way, but Nick appreciated the creativity that came along with Samuel’s unusual perspective. “I admired his talent. We didn’t talk every day or even every month. But we were close. Maybe it was the DNA, but I
understood who he was. At least, I thought I did.”

Without another word, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. Her touch reached through the wall of self-control he’d built to keep going. There wasn’t time to fall apart; he needed to take care of business.

Nick hadn’t cried for his uncle, hadn’t shed a tear or acknowledged the pain of losing him, but
as he enfolded her in his embrace, raw emotion poured through his veins. His sadness was tempered by anger. How could Samuel commit suicide? Why would he choose death? Nick should have been more aware of his uncle’s state of mind, should have talked to him, should have seen his desperation.

He lowered his head and rubbed his cheek against her silky hair while inhaling the strawberry scent
of her shampoo. Holding Kelly grounded him and gave him clarity. “I’m going to miss him.”

“He was a part of your life.”

She shifted her weight and leaned back. Just as easily as they had come together, they separated. It surprised him that he didn’t feel uncomfortable about their embrace. Having Kelly in his arms felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“I’m glad I came out
here,” he said. “I like seeing you, and I needed a break from Marian and the lawyers.”

“Did any of them know Trask?”

“No.” Time to get down to business. “Show me his card.”

She dug into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a plain, white card with the name, occupation and a phone number. “He seemed real concerned about Samuel’s dying words, and he didn’t believe me when I said
I didn’t remember him saying anything that made sense.”

Nick recalled the scene from last night. When Kelly took over with his uncle, he had stepped aside. “I wasn’t aware that he said anything.”

“He was barely conscious, mumbling. He told me to close the door. I guess he was talking about the door we crashed through.”

There was one other door in the room, the door to a closet.
Though he’d assumed that Samuel committed suicide, Nick had opened that door and looked inside to make sure no one was hiding there. “What else?”

“Gold,” she said. “He repeated it several times. And he said something about a heart of stone or a stone heart. It reminded me of a lyric in a country-western song. Does it mean anything to you?”

He shook his head. “You said that Trask didn’t
believe you. What made you think that?”

Her lips pulled into a frown. “He told me that I’d better not be holding anything back.”

“That sounds like a threat.”

“I’m not sure if it was meant that way.” Her frown deepened. “Trask is a very unpleasant person.”

“I don’t like him snooping around,” Nick said.

“Neither do I, especially since he came here. If Trask is dangerous,
I don’t want him near Serena and the children.”

“Agreed,” he said. “We’ll get to the bottom of this as soon as possible. Would you mind coming back to the Spencer Building with me?”

“Not a problem. But I’ll need to change into a more presentable jacket.”

“I like the threadbare dragon look.” He fell into step beside her as they approached the house. “How many people live here?”

“Serena and Nigel have three children and an infant. Serena’s sister is also staying here for a couple of weeks to help out. I’m sharing a bedroom with her.”

“How long are you planning to stay in the area?”

“I’m not sure.” She gave a little shrug. “When Serena called and asked me to help with her clients while she was taking care of her baby, I realized how much I missed Colorado.
I’ve always loved the mountains, and this feels like home to me. I gave up my apartment in Austin.”

“That sounds like a permanent move.” And he was glad to hear it. He wanted to get to know Kelly better, which might take more than a couple of weeks. “Are you planning to stay here with Serena?”

“God, no. I love her and adore her kids, but I’d go mad if I lived here. I need my privacy.”

When she pushed open the door to an open room with cathedral ceilings, they walked into a recital of something that sounded like “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” All three kids were singing and banging on various types of drums while their parents watched and dutifully applauded before welcoming Nick into their home.

Nick shook hands with Nigel, who looked familiar. “Have you done work
at the Spencer Building?”

“Private contracting with a couple of the software firms,” he said. “My wife tells me that you showed Kelly the gold.”

Everybody loved that gold.
“If you’d like to see it, let me know when you’re coming by.”

“You bet I will.”

Serena, with her beautiful baby in her arms, joined them. She allowed him one peek at the infant who was, miraculously, sleeping.
Then she got right to the point. “You and Kelly have made a connection. I couldn’t be happier.”

“A connection?”

“She’s ready to settle down,” Serena said, “and I want her to stay in Valiant and help me build my business.”

Kelly popped up beside him. Still wearing her khaki pants, she’d changed into a lightweight burgundy jacket. “We have to go.”

“Stay,” Serena cajoled. “There’s
so much more I have to tell Nick about you.”

Teasing, Nick said, “And I want to hear it all.”

“Not today.” She linked her arm with his and pulled him toward the door. “Serena, I have my cell if you need me.”

On the porch, she exhaled in a whoosh. “I bet you didn’t know you’d volunteered to be on the Serena Bellows version of the dating game.”

“I like her and Nigel.” Fifi trotted
by carrying the red dragon cape in her mouth. “And the whole menagerie.”

With all this rampant energy and enthusiasm, he’d forgotten that he’d come here to make sure Kelly wasn’t being harassed or threatened by Trask. As they walked toward his SUV, he was reminded of the possible danger. Parked at the end of the winding drive that led to the Bellowses’ house was a black stretch limousine.

Kelly saw it, too. “Do you know who that is?”

“I intend to find out.” He paused outside the driver’s-side door to his SUV. “You should go back to the house while I talk to them.”

“If this has something to do with Samuel’s death and his last words, the people in the limo might be looking for me,” she said. “I’m coming with you.”

He didn’t argue. “I’ll drive. I want the limo to
follow us. If it stays here, Princess Butterfly and the goats might decide to check it out.”

“That can’t happen.” Her voice was determined. “If anybody scares these kids, I’ll have to kill them.”

“You bloodthirsty dragons are all alike.”

He brought her around to the passenger side and opened the door for her. Though Nick was keeping the tone light so Kelly wouldn’t be worried, he
had misgivings. Why was a limo here? What the hell were they after?

He drove down the driveway toward the cheerful mailbox and made a right turn as though heading back to Valiant. As he’d expected, the limo followed on the two-lane asphalt road. The way he saw it, there were two options: contact the police or face the limo himself.

Thus far, he hadn’t been impressed with the local cops
or the Colorado Bureau of Investigation agents. They’d been quick to accept that Samuel committed suicide, and the case was closed. Nick thought there was a lot more to be investigated, and he was going to have to be more involved.

Kelly had her cell phone in hand. “Should I call 911?”

“Not yet. I want to see what they’re up to.”

The SUV was approaching the unmanned volunteer fire
department building, a good place to pull over. Nick signaled a turn and stepped on the brake.

“Do you have a gun?” she asked.

He was an architect, not a sharpshooter. “I’m just going to talk to them. You stay in the car and lock the doors. Get behind the steering wheel so we can make a fast getaway if we need to.”

“I really don’t like the way that sounds.”

“This isn’t going
to be a problem. I’ll be back here before you know it.”

He opened his car door and got out. At the same time, the limo driver emerged. A stocky guy with a thick neck, he looked as if he could also be a bodyguard.

“Mr. Spencer,” he said, “Mr. Radcliff will see you now.”

His civilized attitude didn’t fit with the situation. “Why were you following me?”

“Convenience.”

He
held open the rear door to the limo, and Nick entered. He hoped he’d be able to come back out in one piece.

Chapter Five

Monday, 12:48 p.m.

In the rearview mirror, Kelly watched Nick disappear into the back of the long stretch limousine with tinted windows. It worried her that she couldn’t see him. She held up her cell phone, ready to call the police at the slightest sign of trouble.

The limo driver closed the door behind Nick and strolled around the car toward the gleaming
front grill where he leaned against the fender and gazed across the road into the forested area on the other side. Though his attitude was relaxed, he looked like the kind of guy who would carry a gun and know how to use it. Why was she thinking about guns? Maybe she’d been in Texas too long.

She checked the mirror again. Sunlight flashed off the silver chrome. She hated limos. Her ex had
always insisted on taking a limo when they went to gala events because he liked to make an entrance. In his tailored tuxedo with his diamond-stud cuff links, Ted Maxwell was a very handsome man. Heads always turned when he walked by.

And she had followed in his wake, aware that she’d never be as pretty as he was. He’d tried to coach her about what to wear and how to behave. The only bit of
grooming that had really worked was the way she’d highlighted her straight brown hair, which was the only thing she’d kept after the divorce. According to Ted, he’d fought to become an associate partner at a top Denver law firm before he was thirty-five. He’d done the hard work, and all she had to do—her only real job as his wife—was to look good and back him up. She’d been a miserable failure,
emphasis on the
miserable.

Not only had she been a dud when it came to style, but her profession hadn’t been classy enough for his society friends. When he introduced her, he’d always said she was in medicine, rather than admitting that she was only a nurse.

That snub had been the final straw. She’d always been proud of what she did and refused to pretend otherwise. Instead of trailing
behind him in uncomfortable and ridiculously expensive high heels, she’d opted out of the fancy dress balls and political fundraisers. Better to stay home with a good book.

His new wife must be more adept at gorgeousness. Kelly had heard that they were a power couple on their way into the national political arena. They already had one child, even though Ted hadn’t been interested in children
when he was with her.

She checked the mirror again, hoping to see Nick coming toward her. No such luck. It was kind of a bad omen that when she met him, he was wearing a tux. Was he anything like her ex? Ted had more polish, but Nick was definitely a head-turner. Handsome and rich made for a dangerous combination. Even though Nick seemed funny and down-to-earth and had complimented her on
her nursing skills, she’d keep her eyes wide-open. The first time he insisted that she slip into a pair of four-inch heels, she was out of there.

Nervous, she turned around in the seat to stare at the car behind her. Oh, yeah, she hated limos.

* * *

T
HE
PLUSH
,
BEIGE
LEATHER
interior of the limo reminded Nick less of luxury and more of a mobile office. The pudgy, little man who introduced
himself as Barry Radcliff sat on the bench seat at the rear behind a narrow desk that swung out from the wall. A laptop was open in front of him. A computer printer and fax were on a shelf below the partition separating them from the driver.

The most interesting piece of equipment was a leggy brunette with a short skirt and gladiator sandals. Her loose, curly hair tumbled past the deep vee
in her cream-colored silk blouse. Barry introduced her as his attorney.

“And don’t let her beauty fool you,” Radcliff said. “Francine graduated from Stanford Law School cum laude and almost qualified for the Olympics.”

“What sport?” Nick asked.

“Beach volleyball.”

“Of course.” This day was getting more and more bizarre. Nick sprawled back in the seat on the left side of the
limo, surprised that there was enough room for his long legs. “Why do you want to see me?”

“Your uncle, God rest his soul, did some business with me. I want to make sure it’s taken care of.”

“I’m the wrong person to contact. You should be dealing with the attorney at Spencer Enterprises.”

“That’s not my style.”

Radcliff’s style was questionable. He wore a loose-fitting blue-and-gold-striped
shirt with the top four buttons unfastened to show off his heavy gold necklaces. His dark hair was thick and combed straight back. He had the kind of tan that went with spending a lot of time on a boat or a golf course.

“Your uncle,” Radcliff said, “borrowed a million dollars from me. Payback was due on the day he died. I want my money.”

“You’ll have to be patient. My uncle had a substantial
estate, but there are probate concerns.”

“Which is why I’m coming to you, Nick. I’ll give you until next week to make good on the loan. After Tuesday of next week, I’ll be taking my payment in collateral.”

Inwardly, Nick groaned. “Let me guess. My uncle used the Valiant gold as collateral.”

“Bingo.” He leaned back in his seat. “Show him the agreement, honey.”

Apparently, the
Stanford-trained, volleyball-playing attorney didn’t mind being called honey. She reached into a file folder and produced a copy of a one-page document, which she held toward Nick.

He skimmed it quickly. Two months ago, just after the first of the year, Samuel had borrowed one million cash. If the amount, plus a couple hundred thousand in interest, was not paid within one week from when it
was due, Radcliff was entitled to the equivalent amount in Valiant gold. The signature on the bottom was Samuel’s.

“It looks pretty straightforward,” Nick said. “But I still need to have the legal department check it out.”

“This isn’t a corporate issue. The loan was man to man, between me and Samuel, God rest his soul. That’s why I came to you as a member of the Spencer family.”

“Do you have any idea why he needed the money?”

“Not my concern.” Radcliff waved his pudgy hand in front of his face. He was beginning to sound agitated. “Can I count on you or not?”

“Let me think.”

Nick would have been justified in pitching the document out the window and letting Radcliff’s sexy attorney drag this debt through the courts for settlement. But he felt an obligation
to his uncle to honor this debt. Samuel had thought this money was important enough to gamble the family treasure. Finding the project he was working on might help Nick understand why his uncle had committed suicide.

“I have a question for you,” Nick said. “Did Samuel seem depressed to you? Or nervous? Scared?”

“He was okay. I liked the old guy. He was a risk taker, you know what I mean?
These days, decisions get made by committees and everybody is busy covering their butt. Samuel had guts, God rest his soul.”

That wasn’t the description of a man who was about to kill himself. As far as Nick was concerned, Radcliff had a better idea of Samuel than half the people who claimed to know him well. In his way, Radcliff was an honorable man.

“I’ll get the money.”

“Too
bad,” Radcliff said. “I had my heart set on that gold.”

Nick reached for the door handle. “Next time you want to reach me, use the phone.”

“When I meet a person for the first time, I want to look him in the eye.”

Not a bad policy. Nick was beginning to like this guy. “How do I contact you?”

Radcliff nodded to his lawyer, and she leaned forward to hand him a card. The view down
her blouse was a major distraction. If this settlement ever got to court, he’d bet on her to win.

Exiting the limo, he nodded to the driver, went to the passenger side of his SUV and climbed in. When he closed the door, he looked down at the copy of the document in his hand. Radcliff’s business card had listings for five different companies—three of them appeared to be associated with oil
drilling.

“What happened?” Kelly asked. “Are you okay?”

“Confused as hell,” he admitted. “The inside of that limo is like an office on wheels, and the guy behind the desk is Barry Radcliff. He’s one of those guys with a dark tan and gold jewelry, maybe from Miami or Vegas. Or maybe he just plays a lot of golf, I don’t know.”

“You’re rambling, Nick.”

“Radcliff loaned my uncle
a million dollars.”

“Whoa.” She sat back behind the steering wheel. “That’s a big loan.”

He agreed. Coming up with a million in cash wouldn’t be easy. As Marian Whitman kept telling him, Spencer Enterprises was stretched to the max. Last night when she wanted him to confront his uncle, she intended to close down some of the projects he’d been developing. Big mistake. Samuel didn’t know
the meaning of “no.” He’d gone elsewhere for financing.

The limo pulled even with his SUV, and the rear window partially rolled down. A slender, feminine hand reached out and waved goodbye before the traveling office drove away.

“Who’s the woman?” Kelly asked.

“Radcliff’s attorney. She’s an Olympic-caliber athlete in beach volleyball.”

“Sure she is. And I’m a supermodel.”

“I know this sounds crazy,” he said, “but this is a copy of a legitimate document, signed by my uncle. He used the Valiant gold as collateral.”

“Settling debts sounds like a job for Marian Whitman. She’s in charge of the money, right? Why did Radcliff contact you?”

“Because he’s a smart guy. He knows I’m more likely to pay him back than Marian or any other corporate officer.”

For Nick, the debt wasn’t about the money. He was motivated by concern for his uncle. More than anything else, he needed to find out what had caused Samuel to take his own life and scribble a note that said he was sorry. Apologizing was out of character. His uncle was the kind of man—the gutsy kind of man—who faced his mistakes and made them right.

Kelly rested her hands on the steering wheel.
“Where do we go from here?”

“I’ve got to find out why Samuel needed a million dollars and what he was working on.”

“There must be records or blueprints or something,” she said. “Can we check his computer?”

“He barely kept track of what he was doing, hated using the computer.” But Nick knew how to get the information they needed. “Change seats with me. We’re going to see Julia.”

He exited the passenger side and came around the SUV. The conversation with Radcliff had given him new energy and strength. Instead of dull gray sadness, he had hope for finding out what happened. In the driver’s seat, he started the engine.

“Who’s Julia?” Kelly asked.

“Julia Starkey has been my uncle’s secretary for as long as I can remember. She came to work for him, probably thirty
years ago, as a single mom with two young kids. They fell in love.”

“You’re going to have to fill in the blanks,” Kelly said. “Did Samuel have a wife when he fell in love with his secretary?”

“He never married. As far as I know, Julia was the only woman in his life. You’ll understand what I mean when you see her house. It’s an expression of his feelings for her.”

“Like the Taj Mahal.”

“That’s a tomb,” he said. “Julia’s house was designed for a living woman who appreciates the serenity of orderly surroundings. There’s something mysterious about the place. Uncle Samuel used to say that no matter how much time he spent with Julia, he’d never completely understand her.”

When he was a teenager, Nick had helped his uncle build Julia’s house, and his opinion of the property
was colored by that experience. During that summer, he’d learned a lot about architecture. The mathematics and calculations of creating blueprints were only part of design. Samuel taught him about heart, about making a house into a home.

At a road leading into a mountain canyon, he took a right turn. Earlier today when he was at the Spencer Building, he’d noticed that Julia’s office, which
was right next door to his uncle’s, was empty. Nobody expected her to come to work. Samuel’s death had to be harder on her than anyone else.

He looked over at Kelly. “You’re quiet.”

“I was trying to imagine what it would be like to have someone love you so much that they built you a house.” She gave him a wistful smile. “It’s epic.”

He wanted to tell her that every woman deserved
a castle and a man who loved her so deeply that he would shape his life around her wants and needs, but he wasn’t that much of a romantic. Real life was seldom that pretty. “Don’t get the wrong idea. Julia and Samuel weren’t a lovey-dovey couple. He was a dreamer, and she was pragmatic. They argued all the time.”

“And he never married her.” Her eyebrows pulled down into a frown. “I guess
no relationship is perfect.”

Perfection was too much to hope for. He’d gladly settle for what Samuel had with Julia.