She shrugged. “Let’s just say I’m the cautious type.”
“You’re a smart lady. I like that. Tell you what. Sinceneither of us completely trusts the other, you keep the manila files and I’ll take the flash drives.” Setting the files back on the table, he crossed the living room in that long-legged stride of his and paused at the door. “Let me know if you come up with anything and I’ll do the same. Good night, Cassidy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
When the door closed behind him, Cassidy felt as if the heat had suddenly been turned down and she could actually breathe. Aside from his dark good looks and amazingly hot body, there was something intriguing about Beau Reese.
She knew he had dated some of the world’s most beautiful women, but he had also had affairs with a college professor, a female CEO, and a lady stockbroker. Clearly women with brains didn’t intimidate him.
She liked his honesty, the fact he didn’t try to sugarcoat his father’s shady dealings or their rocky relationship. She liked that he wanted justice for his dad even though the two of them had never gotten along.
Assuming what he’d told her was the truth. Assuming he wasn’t just trying to turn suspicion away from himself.
Assuming it wasn’t Beau who’d committed the murder.
Chapter Six
Beau thought about driving his car from the motel to the house the next morning and calling for the Tex/Am helicopter to fly him the twenty-five-minute ride into Dallas. The Pleasant Hill Golf Course backed up to the house, providing enough open space for the chopper to land, but driving had always been a stress reliever, and the time on the road would give his head a chance to clear.
By the time he pulled up to the Texas American Enterprises building, a six-story mirrored glass structure on North Central Parkway, the tension had drained from between his shoulders and he was coming to terms with his father’s death.
Stepping out of the elevator on the executive floor, he crossed the deep, beige carpet. The low tables in the reception area were of smooth, rust-grained teak, a warm contrast to the nubby oatmeal fabric on the sofas and chairs.
He waved at the feisty redheaded receptionist, Leslie Bingham, who had once held high hopes of snaring Linc but had given up after his recent marriage and now seemed to be crushing on Beau.
“Good morning, Mr. Reese. I’m so sorry to hear aboutyour father.” She was bright and ambitious and good at her job. And aside from an occasional over-adoring smile, she was a very good employee.
“Thank you, Les.” On the drive to the office he had geared himself up for the dozens of condolences he would be receiving over the next few weeks. Whatever he thought of his father, Stewart Reese was an important man and Beau was his son.
He stopped to speak to Linc’s personal assistant, Millie Whitelaw, who worked in a private area at the back of the reception area. Staff worked in cubicles nearby.
“Is he in?” Beau asked.
“Yes, and he asked me to let him know when you got here. He said for me to send you right in. I’m really sorry, Beau.”
“Thanks, Millie.” He had phoned Linc from the motel and told him what had happened, asked him to take charge for a while, till he got things handled in Pleasant Hill. Linc was probably the only person in the world who understood the mix of emotions he was feeling.
He opened the door to his partner’s private office, which was surrounded by a wall of windows like the ones in his own. The room was done in the same teak décor as the reception area, but with caramel leather sofas and chairs instead of fabric.
As the door closed, Linc stood up from his desk. A big man, six foot five, two hundred twenty pounds of solid muscle, he was good-looking, smart, and loyal to a fault.
Rounding the desk, he grabbed Beau’s shoulder and drew him in for a brief man-hug. “I’m sorry, bro. I know how hard this must be. Carly sends her sympathies. And Josh called when he saw it on the news. He said to let him know if there’s anything you need.” Joshua Cain was Linc’s younger brother, just out of the Marines and home from the war after a near-fatal injury.
Beau just nodded. He paced over to the wall of windows, stared out at the sprawling city of Dallas. Cars buzzed along the busy streets below and a stiff wind shifted through the branches of the trees.
The words seemed to just spill out. “He was murdered, Linc.” He walked back to the desk. “Jesus, what the hell did my old man do to get himself killed?”
“You’ll find out or the cops will. One way or another you’ll make sure whoever did it pays.”
“I’ll find him. I won’t be able to move on from this until I know what happened.” An image arose of the woman who had been with him the night before in the study. “Believe it or not, I’m going to have some help. I hired a lady detective. I mentioned her when I called.”
Linc nodded. “Cassidy Jones. You said she walked in just as you found your dad. They mentioned her on the news.”
“She got there just as I was pulling the letter opener out of Dad’s chest. The way things went down, I don’t think she believes I did it, but she’s smart enough to reserve judgment until she’s sure.”
“She’d have to be smart or you wouldn’t have hired her.”
Beau told Linc how he had gone out to the house last night to look for his father’s secret files and found Cassidy prowling the master bedroom, searching for the same thing. He didn’t mention the wrestling match in the hall that had felt way too good, so good just thinking about it stirred him up all over again.
“How’d she know about the files?”
