His cell rang, the caller ID read:Aaron Sidney.
“Hello, Aaron,” he answered. “How are you?”
“Not happy,” Aaron said.
“Did something happen?”
“More like somethingdidn’thappen.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m still waiting for the evidence you promised me.”
“Ah, that. Don’t worry. I’ve been working on it as much as I can. I’m sure you understand it’s not something I can hand off to subordinates, and it would not help your cause if anyone else were to find out that I’m assisting you.”
“I don’t see why that’s such a big deal. When I use your info to prove the will’s a fake, people are going to find out.”
“That’s true. But if word gets out now, Barrington will do everything he can to suppress the evidence before you can use it.”
“Huh. I hadn’t thought of that. I mean, I wouldhave. I’m just juggling a lot of things.”
“I have no doubt,” Humphrey lied.
“How much longer is it going to take you?”
“I should think a few more weeks should be enough.”
When a fortnight had passed, Humphrey would then say he needed another, and he would keep saying the same until it was too late.
“How are things on your end?” Humphrey asked.
“Can you believe they were going to throw me out of my dad’s office?”
“What are you talking about?”
Aaron told him about Barrington’s threat to have him arrested, and how he had been the bigger man and had left on his own.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Humphrey said when he was finished, thinking Aaron was an even bigger idiot than he’d thought. “Any movement on the suit?”
“Ryan says Barrington should be filing a response soon.”
“I’m curious as to what he’ll say.”
“You and me both.” Aaron paused, then said, “Get me that proof.”
“I will,” Humphrey said, but Aaron had already hung up.
The sound of a cardoor shutting stirred Bronsky from his slumber.
He sat up and realized he was alone in the sedan. He scanned the outside until he spotted his driver disappearing into what looked to be a small marina.
Bronsky climbed out of the car and stretched, then searched for a sign that might tell him where he was.
After seeing none, he checked his watch. It was a quarter past six p.m. He’d been out for hours. Not surprising, given he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in days, thanks to Dame Felicity.
Across the parking lot, his driver reappeared in the company of a man dressed in dark jeans and a black sweater. The new guy was older, maybe mid-forties, and looked fit.
When they reached the car, the older man held out his hand and said, “Mr. Weeks, I’m Andre Parker.”
