“Not possible.”
She smiled and told him about Debbie Sanderson, her mother’s French lessons, her father’s poetry. He didn’t interrupt. She could feel him listening to every word she said. She told him she’d brought her sisters up to the attic room that morning but didn’t mention their questions about him.
He asked about the fashion show and what she was doing, where she was right now.
“It’s a beautiful night,” she said. “It’s nice after the heat.”
“Helps since you have no air-conditioning.”
“I only wish I had it a few nights a year. I have fans. I put one at the foot of my bed and…” Phoebe stopped herself. “I manage.”
Noah was silent, and she wondered if he was picturing her lying on her bed in next to nothing, or nothing at all, with a fan on her.
“Tell me about San Diego,” she said.
“It’s warm, sunny and not humid.” He paused, and she could feel his smile. “The same.”
“Have you been to your office?”
“Yes. I had pencils to sharpen.”
She laughed. “I love a good pencil.”
“So do I, techie that I am. I’m meeting Loretta Wrentham tomorrow. She’s getting Julius Hartley down here.”
“I hope you get to the bottom of what he’s up to.”
“I’m sure we will,” Noah said. “Tell me again about Debbie Sanderson and her time in Knights Bridge.”
Nineteen
Loretta paced on Dylan’s porch while she waited for Julius Hartley to park his BMW and join her. She could smell the ocean and taste it on the breeze, but she didn’t care. That told her just how keyed up she was. She loved the ocean, the sand, the rocks, the birds, the colors of sky and water. Watching Navy SEALs run on the beach wasn’t bad, either. She lived in La Jolla but she enjoyed coming out to Coronado.
Just not today.
Dylan had disappeared with Olivia, saying something about stuffed giraffes from the zoo for kids back in Knights Bridge. Loretta knew what that meant: she was on her own. She’d helped make this mess with Hartley by trusting him, by not realizing sooner that he was Noah’s mystery man.
Now she could clean it up.
Noah was back in San Diego, on his way to Coronado. He and Dylan would have already talked. She didn’t know that for sure, but it was how the two of them operated. It was how it had always been and always would be. Friendships like theirs were rare. She’d seen that the first time she’d met them. Dylan and Noah had each other’s backs. Dylan had a woman in his life now who understood that. Loretta didn’t know if Noah ever would.
She watched Hartley mount the steps to the porch. He had on an expensive pale blue polo shirt and dark tan trousers, and he looked more like a country-club type than a scumbag private investigator. She’d dressed in a crisp black suit with her red heels and hoped she looked like she not only wanted to kick him down the stairs but could do it.
He smiled at her, no sign he knew how mad she was. “Hi, Loretta. Nice day, isn’t it?”
“It’s Southern California. It’s always nice.” She let him get onto the porch before she glared at him. “You took it upon yourself to snoop on Dylan McCaffrey and especially Noah Kendrick. You snooped on a little rural town in New England.”
“Yeah. Sure. It’s what I do.”
She pointed a red-nailed finger at him. “You’re a son of a bitch, Hartley.”
He shrugged. “Okay.”
“Who were you on the phone with on Friday when Phoebe O’Dunn overheard you?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter.” She paused to catch her breath. He was as roguishly good-looking up close, out of the sunlight. She reminded herself to stay focused. The man couldn’t be trusted. “Was it your client? Are you working for an attorney, or is this one of your private clients?”
He turned and faced the water. “This is nice. McCaffrey’s giving up this place for Knights Bridge, huh?”
“For Olivia Frost, and I don’t know that he’s giving it up. He hasn’t asked me to look into putting it onto the market. Not that he will.” Loretta gritted her teeth. “I’ll probably be banished from Noah’s and Dylan’s sight before cocktail hour tonight, thanks to you.”
“That’s some drama going there.” Hartley gave her a sideways glance. “Am I supposed to—what? Feel guilty?”
“You’re supposed to tell the truth. I can’t believe I didn’t see through you sooner, but I just didn’t take you for a snake.”
“That’s because I’m not a snake.” He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, I’m not always a snake. I can be when the situation calls for some slithering. I tried to be discreet with my scrutiny of Dylan and Noah, if that helps any.”
Loretta shook her head. “It doesn’t.”
“It was easier in Boston. Any stranger would stand out in Sleepy Hollow, but I really did. I had this thing in my head that I was looking into rich guys and should therefore try to blend in with them.”