Kathleen Long - High Society Sabotage

Sara nodded. “Thanks.”

Sara’s eyes, however, never left the object Angel carried. Two steaming mugs of coffee sat balanced on top of a large, flat box.

The secret weapon?

What on earth was Evangeline up to now?

Angel set the box on Evangeline’s worktable, handed Evangeline and Sara each a mug, then looked at Evangeline. When Evangeline nodded, Angel carried the box to Sara and set it in her lap.

“Your secret weapon.”

Sara’s pulse quickened inexplicably. “What is it?”

“The key to my stepson’s heart,” Evangeline answered.

Sara studied the size and depth of the box. Lingerie perhaps? Her belly tightened at the very thought of modeling lingerie for Kyle Prescott. Their kiss had been hot enough to momentarily undo her focus. She didn’t want to consider what a lingerie-modeling session might do.

She swallowed.

“Open it.” Evangeline instructed.

Sara lowered her coffee mug to an end table then slipped her fingertips beneath the edges of the box, slowing lifting the lid.

A plate of brownies sat inside, carefully sealed in a clear container.

She squinted and frowned. “This is the secret weapon?”

Angel excused herself from the room as Evangeline softly chuckled. But when Sara lifted her gaze to that of her boss, Evangeline’s blue eyes had gone steely.

“You’ve got to get inside his life.” She patted the container of sweets. “Seems to me this would get you in the door of his home with no problem. Let him think you’re the perfect little woman—intelligent and attractive, with a great cook on staff.”

She tipped her chin toward the brownies then stood, moving back to her desk.

“We’ve received some new intel that’s rather disturbing when it comes to my stepson. Seems you’ve edged your way into his life at the perfect time.”

Sara set the container of brownies aside and straightened. “Like what?”

Evangeline nodded. “A series of real estate documents bearing his electronic signature. All pivotal to the land deals yet detrimental to TCM.”

“I don’t understand.” Sara frowned.

“Even though the documents bear his signature, they point the finger of responsibility—and guilt—squarely at TCM. Quite brilliantly, actually.”

“But why?” Sara ran the information through her brain. She couldn’t envision the Kyle she’d met doing what Evangeline was saying he’d done.

Yes, the man was as arrogant as they came, but based on his actions after the accident, his heart was a whole lot bigger—and softer—than he let on.

Was he capable of plotting to take down his family’s company? He didn’t seem the type.

Evangeline shrugged. “Kyle never warmed to his stepfather. Maybe he’s setting the man up for a fall.” Her expression softened and the corners of her eyes turned sad. “He was never the same after his father’s death. Who knows what he’s capable of.”

Sara stood and paced a tight pattern to the windows and back. “Or maybe someone’s setting up Kyle.”

Evangeline’s pale brows climbed toward her hair-line. “So I see it’s true what they say about Robert’s son.”

“What’s that?” Sara turned to face her boss.

“His charm is legendary.”

Sara tensed defensively. “Trust me, I have no plans to fall for his charm. I’m just trying to see this situation from every possible angle.”

“Something you do extremely well.” Evangeline hesitated momentarily before she continued. “There’s one more thing.”

“What?” Sara asked.

“We found a notation in the last victim’s date book. Seems he had a meeting scheduled with a K.P. before his untimely death. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to keep his appointment.”

“Kyle Prescott.” A mix of excitement and disappointment fired in Sara’s belly. She’d found just the man she needed to unravel the mystery lurking behind the corporate facade of TCM, yet her gut didn’t believe him responsible.

Evangeline stood, her usual nonverbal mode of dismissal. “I trust you’ll take care of those bumps and bruises—” she nodded toward the container of brownies as Sara picked it up “—and put those to good use.”

Sara mulled over Evangeline’s words as she drove back toward her apartment. She couldn’t picture Kyle Prescott sabotaging the family corporation, but she forced herself to take a mental step back.

She’d known the man for mere hours. Who knew what he was really capable of?

She shoved the inexplicable flash of disappointment out of her mind for the second time since Evangeline had given her the news.

What had she expected? That Kyle Prescott might be more than handsome packaging and a society pedigree? That he might be innocent of the illegal doings inside TCM?

Was she so naive she’d fallen for his legendary charm just as Evangeline had suggested?

Get a grip, Montgomery. Now.

There had obviously been no love lost between Kyle and his half brother, Peter. Perhaps Kyle was out to hurt TCM, if for no other reason than to sabotage Peter.

Sara had no trouble, however, in picturing Kyle being involved in the oil-investing scheme. After all, he’d out and out declared his support for developing and drilling open land.

The puzzle pieces began to circulate through her brain, her favorite part of the investigative process. Now all she had to do was worm her way fully inside Kyle’s life—and inside TCM.

She patted the container of brownies on the passenger seat, then traced a finger over the address of the all-night dry cleaner Evangeline had recommended. She’d drop off Kyle’s tux jacket and have it repaired, cleaned and pressed by morning.

Tomorrow she’d dazzle the man with her concern, caring and her secret weapon.

She planned to use Kyle for an item on her personal agenda, as well.

Finding her sister’s killer.

Her gut told her Peter Turner might hold the key to the mystery she’d failed to unlock even after all this time.

Kyle’s half brother made her skin crawl, but Sara needed to follow up on what he’d said about Annemarie.

As best Sara could figure, Peter Turner would have been a mere five or six years old at the time of Annemarie’s death, but if he’d found her to be kind and patient, he might have trailed behind her at the last party she’d attended.

Maybe, just maybe, he’d seen something that would finally lead Sara to Annemarie’s killer.

After all, there had been no notes in the investigative file about interviewing a child that fateful day.

If Peter Turner had seen anything, no one had taken notice. Perhaps the investigating officers had overlooked a vital piece of evidence. A key witness.

Sara wouldn’t make that same mistake.

Access to his half brother made cozying up to Kyle Prescott very attractive. The fact Kyle himself might be neck-deep in the oil scheme justified whatever moves Sara needed to make to win the man over.

Sara always got her man.

This time would be no different.

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