Excerpt 2 from In Safe Hands
“I want to thank you all…”
Burton Latimer deliberately broke off, as if choked up. He closed his eyes briefly, then cleared his throat before raising his gaze to the police officers, detectives and technicians in his grand foyer. “… Thank you all for what you’re doing. I know New York’s finest will bring my darling Virginia home.”
He ignored the cynical bastards among them who looked at him with masked expressions, focussing instead on the few sympathetic faces. “I’ll … uh … leave you to do your jobs in peace. I’ll be in my study, if you need my help.”
Head bowed, Burton walked slowly across the polished marble floor to his home office. As he opened the door, he paused, turned, gave a wavering smile, then walked inside and closed the door quietly.
“Imbeciles.” He straightened and stalked to his desk. “They couldn’t find their asses with a neon sign pointing the way.”
“They have their uses.” Burton’s right-hand man, Vincent leaned against the edge of his boss’ bleached oak, custom-made desk, legs crossed at the ankles.
The man never seemed to sleep, yet was always immaculately turned out; crisp shirt, perfectly knotted tie, military creases in his trousers and gleaming polished shoes. He paid the same meticulous attention to his work. Someone else who understood the need for maintaining high standards.
“Most of those idiots think I’ve done away with Virginia and are only here to find proof. Like I’d be stupid enough to call them in if I was guilty.”
Irritation surged at the disruption Virginia was causing. When she returned -- and she would, willingly or unwillingly -- he’d show her the consequences of her actions. “Have you found her?”
“Not yet.” Vincent shrugged casually. “She’s not in the obvious places -- hotels, hospitals, hostels. She hasn’t used her cell or her credit cards.”
“Someone must be helping her. Virginia isn’t smart enough to stay hidden this long on her own.”
“Who? Her family?”
“Those leaches won’t lift a finger to help her.” He’d spent a small fortune ensuring that.
“Friends?”
“She has no friends. The ladies she does charity work with are either married to people who work for me or who need to remain in my good graces. None of them would dare cross me.”
“Very few would. Not even your competitors.”
Vincent’s words caused something to hover around the edges of Burton’s brain. Something important. But, as hard as he tried, he couldn’t quite grasp it. “There hasn’t been a ransom note to suggest she’s been kidnapped.” None of his enemies were above that kind of action.
“If any of them were playing that game, you’d have heard by now.” Vincent shook his head. “They’d have to be foolish or foolhardy to take you on.”
Burton smiled at the truth in that statement.
“Which brings us back to the fact that she left on her own. Where does she usually go after an argument?” There wasn’t the slightest inflection on the final word, even though they both knew what happened last night wasn’t a difference of opinion.
“She hides, usually in the Park.”
“Someone must have seen her. We’ll find them and trace her steps. The media coverage will generate information too.”
Irritated by the trouble his stupid wife was causing, Burton stabbed a button and a bleached oak wall-panel slid back to reveal a bank of plasma screens. His anger eased slightly when he saw Virginia’s disappearance headlining on all major channels. He should take advantage of the coverage.
“I’ll pull together an appropriate statement to release later this evening, for the prime-time news programs. Let’s see how long she can stay hidden with the whole of the Tri-State area on the look-out for her.”
Footage on one screen caught his eye; CNN was showing a montage of him and Virginia at various functions. It soothed him momentarily. They looked like the President and First Lady bestowing their benevolence on the world around them. He liked that imagery.
A light-bulb clicked on in his head.
“Check out the charity whose dinner we went to last night. SAFe.” He practically spat out the word. “Do-gooders who help abused women. Virginia always insisted we support them.”
Vincent raised an eyebrow, recognising the irony.
Burton shrugged. “I tolerated it because Terri Lombard has useful contacts. It’s prudent to be seen as one of her key contributors.” It was no-one else’s business how he dealt with his wife’s inadequacies.
“You think she’d help Virginia?”
“And cut off a major source of funds? Doubtful. Check it, and her, out anyway.”
“Getting info from their shelters will be difficult.”
“Too difficult?”
Vincent sent him a dry look. “Anything else?”
Burton recalled someone who’d been at the dinner. “Check out that damn priest as well.”
No need to mention his name; the man had been a thorn in his side for a long time. Too long.
Vincent nodded, then left via the rear door.
Burton paced the room. The more he thought about it, the more he was sure he was onto something with SAFe. And holier-than-thou Father Michael. He wouldn’t put it past that sanctimonious bastard to be involved. To see it as revenge. Justice.
Cold fury settled like a rock in his stomach. He clenched his fist.
If he found out they’d helped his wife, he’d destroy them all: Terri Lombard, Father Michael, the whole damn SAFe organisation. He’d teach them what happened to people who interfered with his property.
Then, he’d teach his darling wife a lesson she’d never forget.
* * *
Return to Romantic Suspense page
Back to the top
|
