“When you didn’t respond to Michael’s calls and texts, he sent me over to see if you were okay. If I found you dead, I was supposed to leave you here to rot and stink the place up.” He wrinkled his nose. “You’ve already started that process, obviously. But since you’re alive, I’m going to sober you up and haul your ass into the office before the auction.”
Will started to shake his head, but stopped when it felt like it would cause brain damage. “No way am I going into the office today, or tomorrow, or ever again for that matter.”
“Something has come up. You have to come in.”
“No.”
“I’m going to tell you about the new information, then you’re going to haul your sorry drunk ass to the shower, and then come with me to the office.”
Will dropped his hands and looked up at his brother’s face. Chance was standing over him with his arms crossed over his chest. On a good day, he might be able to hold his own with Chance, even with all his martial arts training. This was not a good day. “What came up?”
“Last night, Polly Guidry told me that she was visited by an attractive, petite blond woman who suggested she not sign over her items with us, but to sell them instead to a private buyer who was interested in the entire collection. Polly could sell it all at once with less hassle and immediate results in cash. Of course she didn’t accept and we are still handling her account.”
Shit. “When did this happen?”
“Two days after Polly met with Michael. That was week before last.”
Will scrubbed his hands over his face and tried to clear his partially fermented brain. Claire had been working in the office at that time.
Chance moved to the fireplace and leaned on the mantel. “I showed her a picture of Claire I captured from surveillance video. She didn’t recognize her, but I thought if they met—”
“This is completely unnecessary. I already know she’s not involved.”
“You’ve spent time with her, and I’m sure you’re right, but this will prove it once and for all and clear the issue for Claire as well. She’s agreed to work the auction tonight.”
“The fact that she even agreed to be at the auction of a client who’d been approached indicates her innocence.”
“So it would seem, but we need something concrete for Michael—something more than only your instinct ruling her out. This should do it.” Chance shoved his hands in his pockets. “Someone needs to casually get the two of them together to see how Claire reacts and see if Polly recognizes her in person—her voice or whatnot. I thought you were the best candidate.”
Will covered his face. “You got that wrong by a mile. It can’t be me. She’d bolt.”
“Well, I can’t do it. I’m on monitor because our night guard’s baby was born yesterday, and since no one could reach you”—Chance gave him a pointed glare—“I acted in your place and gave him the week off. The standin doesn’t start until tomorrow.”
His brother had every right to be angry. Hell, he’d even slipped up in his job, which was way out of character. It was time to get his shit back together. Will stood and stretched, trying to wake up his sluggish body and mind. “I’ll take over surveillance and you deal with Claire. I can’t do it. I’m not shitting you.” Though he’d love nothing more than to talk to her, she’d made it clear that was not an option.
Chance grinned. “Deal.”
After a long shower and two glasses of ice water, Will had evolved from hideous creature to something just shy of human.
“You look like shit,” Chance said from the seat across the limo.
Will didn’t bother to meet his brother’s eyes and continued to stare out the window. “I feel like shit.” On every possible level.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
Chance shrugged and finally looked away. “I’m here if you need somebody.”
“I’m fine.” God, he sounded like a dick. His brother was concerned and had every right to be. “Well, I will be.” They pulled up in front of the Anderson Building. “Thanks for coming by my place. I probably needed the rescue.”
His brother met his eyes. “You’re welcome.”
…
It was almost closing time when Claire spotted Will following Chance into Michael’s office. He didn’t even cast a look in her direction. Ever since he’d dropped her off, she’d thought about him and had actually started softening to his side of things, but his deliberate avoidance was irritating.
Her phone buzzed from her desk drawer. She pulled it out and slammed the drawer shut. She thought he would have at least acknowledged her presence.
“Hey, Mr. Sinclair,” she answered. “I hope you have good news for me.”
“Indeed, I do,” the familiar voice responded. “The hold has been lifted, and the money wired into your account is now available for use.”