At the sound of his voice, Frank’s head whipped up just as Nicholas reached behind him to lock the door and flip the sign from OPEN to CLOSED.
“What do you want?” Frank demanded.
“My stepmother is a client of yours.”
“I don’t discuss clients with non-clients.”
“I just came back from talking with her,” Nicholas continued. “She informed me that she had been using your services, which she wouldn’t be needing anymore because she plans to leave town very, very soon—along with your nephew.”
The other man’s mouth tightened. Nicholas suspected Jake had already called to warn him, and maybe give his own colorful version of what had happened. Even when they were kids, he’d been a spineless weasel. First to throw the rock, first to deny the blame.
“You can call her yourself, if you don’t believe me.”
“What do you want?” he repeated.
Nicholas saw him tense as he put his hands on the man’s pretty polished desk and bent down, staring him right in the red-rimmed watery eyes that made him suspect that there was a bottle of whiskey locked in one of those many drawers.
“I want the negatives you have of us.”
“I don’t keep photographs in the office.”
“I think that’s a lie. You seem like a man who enjoys keeping his vices close. Give me the negatives and you can continue slithering under the radar to conduct your shady little business without any further interference from me. I doubt you’ll get a better deal elsewhere.”
“I only answer to the police.”
“I have a stake in almost every big property in town. Even your brother—the sheriff—looks to me during election time, which is coming up soon. Do you really think, knowing him as well as you do, that he would ever side with you over me? He didn’t even choose his own son.”
Frank studied him for a long moment, with the cold stare of a seasoned gambler. “Danielle owed me money. It doesn’t sound like she’ll be paying up now.”
“I’ll cut you a check.”
“Ten thousand. Plus expenses.”
“How affordable.” Nicholas reached for his checkbook. “She got what she paid for then.”
Frank barked out a humorless laugh. “She said you were a stone-cold motherfucker but I figured you were just another prissy little rich boy with a fire lit under his ass.”
“The negatives,” Nicholas said, without looking up. “Now.”
Frank reached into one of his drawers and slapped down an envelope. The edge of something glossy slid out of it. “It’s all in here. Call it a fucking wedding present. I don’t give a fuck.”
“I don’t want to see you anywhere near our home or offices again.”
“I doubt that will be a problem,” Frank said, lighting up a cigarette. Nicholas noted, with disgust, that the ashtray on his desk was overflowing. “You and I don’t exactly run in the same circles. I only knew your father because we played cards.”
“Lucky me.” Nicholas toyed with a dagger-shaped letter opener he’d plucked up from the desk. “I never gamble unless it’s a sure thing.”
“Be careful with that! That’s real sterling silver. I got it in Scotland.” He reached for the letter opener and Nicholas jerked it back, out of reach.
Frank turned irately to Jay. “Do you talk?”
Jay eyed him with distaste. Nicholas had been on the receiving end of that look before: it was just as scalding as he remembered and appeared to make Frank angry. As he reacheddown for the envelope and opened it with Frank’s fancy sterling silver letter opener, the other man said viciously, “I guess with a body like that, she doesn’t need to talk.”
Nicholas looked up, letting the blade slide noisily through the paper.
That gave Frank pause, but mean-spiritedness won out over caution.
“I remember your dad used to talk a lot about you when we played poker. He always talked about what a good girl you were. Figured you’d marry well, shore up the family business.” He smiled unpleasantly. “I suppose one of those things turned out to be true.”
