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Authors: Jayne Ann Krentz

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“Ah, now there you are mistaken.” Larson held up a hand, palm out. “No need to be modest. I know for a fact that you were the one who wrote that cookbook and the Witherspoon Way blog. You made Sprague a media sensation. But he never gave you any of the credit, did he? I’ll bet he didn’t give you a percentage of the take on those seminars, either.”

Grace stilled. Julius regarded her with a thoughtful expression. She was learning to interpret that particular look and she was fairly certain it never boded well. But she gave him credit for having the good sense not to say anything.

“Where are you going with this, Larson?” she asked quietly.

Larson shoved his fingers through his hair. “Isn’t it obvious? I want you to take over my social media. In addition, I’d like to take that cookbook idea of yours and expand it into a full lifestyle series based
on the theme of positive thinking and your affirmations. Yes, I know you were the one who came up with those, too.”

“In other words, you are offering me a position as a ghostwriter for both your blog and your books.”

“Well, yes,” he said. “We both know that it’s the Rayner Seminars brand that will sell the blog and the books. But I promise you that you will be well paid, and I will see to it that your contribution is acknowledged at every step of the way.”

“Like I said, I’ll think about it,” she said.

“What’s holding you back?” Larson glanced skeptically at Julius and then turned back to Grace. “Has someone made you a better offer?”

“No,” she admitted. “I’m still trying to find my path forward.”

“Might as well earn some good money while you work on finding that path,” Larson said. He paused for emphasis. “One more thing you should know.”

“Yes?”

“I’m making similar offers to your former coworkers, Kristy Forsyth and Millicent Chartwell. I want the whole team. I guarantee that all of you will be able to name your own price.”

Grace looked at him. “Aren’t you afraid that one of us might be an embezzler?”

To her amazement, Larson chuckled. “Haven’t you heard the latest news on the case? Sprague was the embezzler.”

Grace stared at him, dumbfounded. “I don’t understand.”

Julius went to the coffee machine. “Rayner may be right. I came here to give you the news. According to the investigators who are examining the financial records, it appears that Sprague Witherspoon may have been skimming off the money.”

“But it was Sprague’s money,” Grace said. “Why would he hide the theft?”

“Could have been a couple of reasons,” Larson offered. “One was that he was using the money for purposes he wanted to keep secret.”

“Such as?” Grace challenged.

Larson shrugged. “There are rumors that he may have had a gambling addiction.”

“That’s . . . almost impossible to believe,” Grace said, stunned.

Julius poured himself a cup of coffee. “There are other reasons why a successful entrepreneur would want to hide a lot of cash. The experts are still looking into the records.”

She shot him a curious glance. They both knew that by “experts” he meant his wizards at Arkwright Ventures.

“The embezzlement issue has gone away,” Larson said. He took out a card and handed it to Grace. “I think it’s safe to say that when the police finally solve Witherspoon’s murder, the killer will turn out to be someone connected to his gambling addiction. It’s a dangerous world. Here’s my private line. Call me with any questions, night or day. I’ll check back with you soon.”

“Okay,” Grace said. She didn’t know what else to say. She was still grappling with the news of Sprague’s gaming addiction.

“You were born for the motivational world, Grace.” Larson smiled. “You just need a chance to shine.” He glanced at his watch. “I’d better get going. I’ve got an appointment back in Seattle.”

“You never got your coffee,” Grace said.

“Some other time, thanks,” Larson said. “A pleasure to meet you, Julius. I would be happy to sit down with you at your convenience to discuss what Rayner Seminars can do for you. Good-bye, Grace. Call soon. I don’t know how long I can keep this offer open.”

He walked out of the kitchen and across the living room. Grace trailed after him and opened the door.

Larson went down the porch steps and got into his car. Julius came
to stand behind Grace. Together they watched Larson drive out to the main road and disappear.

“He seems a little desperate,” Julius said.

“I think he’s just very enthusiastic about moving his company forward,” Grace said.

“No, that was desperation I saw in Larson Rayner. He wants you very, very badly. You must have been damn good at the positive-thinking business.”

“I did have a flair for affirmations, and the cookbook was one of my better ideas,” Grace said. “But I’m not sure that I can work for Larson.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t think he’s sincere about the power of positive thinking,” she said. “I’m not saying he’s a phony but he’s not committed the way Sprague was committed. Sprague genuinely wanted to help people. His belief in positive energy was real. He inspired me.”

Julius’s brows rose. “Larson doesn’t inspire you?”

“Nope.”

“Here’s a little inside job-hunting tip—if you’re only willing to work for people who inspire you, you’re going to discover that you’re looking at a very small group of potential employers.”

She sighed. “That has occurred to me.”

Twenty-One

S
he led the way back into the kitchen and turned to face Julius.

“Are the investigators really convinced that Sprague may have used company money to cover up his gambling losses?” she asked.

“It’s still a theory at this point. I’m told that there are some strong indications that may be the case. But I’m not buying that story, not yet. I told the wizards to look deeper.”

“It’s almost impossible to believe that Sprague was a gambler. But if it’s true, it changes a lot of things, including the pool of suspects in the murder.”

“No,” Julius said. “It doesn’t affect the suspect pool. There is still the little matter of the vodka bottle. No professional assassin employed by a mob boss would have gone to the trouble of researching your past to come up with that little bit of incriminating information. There was no need to do that. Pros almost always get away with murder, literally. I think the murder was a lot more personal. And there’s still the issue of the stalker.”

“This is getting more confusing by the day.”

“No, I think we’re finally starting to see a pattern. But meanwhile, I’m glad you’re not jumping on Rayner’s offer of a job because I’m not enthusiastic about the idea of you going to work for him.”

“Why not?”

“Something about that guy feels off.”

“He’s a professional motivational speaker,” she said. “We know how you feel about the business.”

“What he’s got is a talent for sales,” Julius said. “And as far as I’m concerned, he’s still on the suspect list when it comes to Witherspoon’s murder.”

“Sprague and Larson argued furiously shortly before Sprague was killed,” Grace said. “The quarrel happened in Sprague’s private office but Millicent and Kristy and I were working in the outer office at the time. We heard the shouting.”

“What were they fighting about?” Julius asked.

“Sprague had just received a contract for a major speaking engagement in Los Angeles. Larson felt the contract should have been his. He accused Sprague of sabotaging him. He was sure that Sprague had used his connections to tell the client that Rayner Seminars was in trouble financially.”

“Why would that have mattered to the people who wanted to hire a motivational speaker?” Julius asked. “Seems like financial troubles would just make a motivational guru all the more motivated.”

She gave him a quelling look. “That is not funny. As I recall, the topic of the seminar was ‘A Positive-Thinking Approach to Wealth Management.’”

Julius grinned briefly. “Okay, I can see the problem there.”

“You wouldn’t want to book a motivational seminar on that subject with a speaker whose own company was heading for bankruptcy.”

Julius turned thoughtful. “Is it true that Rayner is having financial troubles?”

“The rumors started circulating a few months ago. Whether or not they are true, I can’t say.”

“I take it Rayner and Witherspoon had a history?” Julius said.

“Oh, yeah,” Grace said. She led the way back into the kitchen. “They started out as partners and there was some kind of blowup. Rumors of the feud have circulated in the motivational world ever since the breakup.”

Julius was briefly distracted. “There’s a motivational world?”

“Yep and it’s a small one—at least it is at the level Sprague and Larson occupied.”

“Any idea what caused the falling-out between the two?”

“There was a woman involved,” Grace said. “Sprague’s second wife, not Nyla’s mother. I’m told the second Mrs. Witherspoon was about thirty years younger and quite attractive. Evidently Larson had an affair with her. I’ve heard that—for men—there are only two things worth fighting over—money and women.”

“I’ve heard that old saying, too,” Julius said. “I wouldn’t put too much stock in it, though.”

“No?” She watched him closely. “Why not?”

“I’m not saying men don’t fight over money and women. I’m just saying that there’s not much point fighting over a woman who doesn’t want you, and when it comes to money, there’s always more out there. Why risk prison for either reason?”

“Beats me,” Grace said, amused. “But people seem willing to do just that all the time. Prison is full of people who shot other people for cold hard cash or drugs. And there are also a lot of people in prison who murdered other people in a jealous rage.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Julius said. “I’m just saying those aren’t good reasons to kill.”

She watched him drink his coffee.

“That’s very Zen,” she said.

“More like common sense.” Julius went to stand at the window. “The other problem with that old saying is that it leaves out a couple of other viable motives for murder.”

She filled her own mug. “Such as?”

“Power and revenge.”

She leaned back against the counter. “Okay. But both of those motives could have been at work in a scenario that features Larson killing Sprague.”

Julius tried a sip of his coffee. “When did Larson Rayner have the affair with Sprague Witherspoon’s wife?”

“Long before I was hired. Maybe four or five years ago.”

“Did Rayner marry Witherspoon’s ex?”

“No. I gather she did well out of the divorce but as far as I know she moved on.”

“That probably makes jealousy an even more unlikely motive,” Julius said. “So we’re back to money. Did Witherspoon steal some of Rayner’s clients?”

She raised her chin. “I honestly don’t think Sprague did anything underhanded. But some of Larson’s clients did switch their business to Witherspoon.”

Julius nodded thoughtfully. “Thanks to you.”

“I was able to leverage some ideas that worked out well for the firm,” she said, going for modesty. “My skill set is somewhat limited but I do have a few tools in the box.”

“And now Larson Rayner wants you and your skills,” Julius said. “No surprise there. When an ambitious politician loses a race, one of the first things he does is try to hire the winner’s campaign manager. Same holds true in the business world.”

Grace waved one hand. “Good grief, I am not some sort of motivational gun for hire.”

“You’ve got to admit it would look interesting on a business card:
Positive Thinking Gun for Hire. Affirmations for the up-and-coming motivational guru.

“Sometimes I think you go out of your way to try to impress me with your cynicism,” Grace said.

“I’m a pragmatic man.”

“Bullshit.”

Julius’s brows rose. “Bullshit?”

“What? You didn’t think I knew the word?”

He smiled. “I hadn’t considered the question until now. The subject hasn’t arisen.”

“I assure you I have a wide-ranging vocabulary, but generally speaking I reserve it for the appropriate occasions.”

“Me calling myself a pragmatist qualifies as an occasion that requires the use of the word bullshit?” Julius asked. He didn’t sound offended, merely curious.

“Yes, I do believe bullshit is the appropriate word here,” Grace said firmly. “You probably think of yourself as pragmatic because you can make the hard decisions when necessary. You get to the bottom line before anyone else and you see no point dwelling on the emotions involved in arriving at your destination.”

Julius nodded thoughtfully. “I’d say that’s a fair summary of my personal philosophy.”

“Here’s the thing, Julius—you wouldn’t throw an innocent person under the bus just to close a deal or achieve your goals. You may be cynical, but you have your own code and you stick to it.”

He shook his head, clearly perplexed by her naiveté. “What makes you so sure of that?”

She smiled. “If you had chosen to be a bad guy, you would do a much better job of playing the role.”

Twenty-Two

T
he new refrigerator arrived forty-five minutes after Larson Rayner left. The deliverymen obligingly disconnected the old one and moved it out onto the sheltered back porch. They wrapped it in heavy sheets of plastic to protect it from the elements until Grace could sell it.

Julius could see the relief in her eyes when the offending appliance was finally gone from the kitchen. He understood.

The new window was installed an hour later. Following that, Grace insisted on going grocery shopping to restock her gleaming new appliance.

What with one thing and another, it was nearly one o’clock before Julius was able to settle down to the business of explaining a few of the facts of business life to his new client.

“Let’s get this straight,” he said. “A talent for writing cheery little feel-good affirmations is not considered a useful skill in most high-powered, high-paying industries.”

“Maybe I need a low-powered industry,” Grace said.

“Not a lot of those left,” Julius said. “And what about the low pay that usually goes with the few that might still be out there?”

“Good point,” she said.

“We need to find a different way to describe your skills.”

“How many ways are there to say that I can write optimistic affirmations?” Grace asked.

“I don’t know yet,” Julius said. “But let’s try to think positive, shall we?”

She glared at him. “That is not amusing.”

“Right. Back to work, then.”

The rain returned but there was a fire in the fireplace and Julius thought that the little house felt cozy and comfortable. The work on Grace’s résumé was not going well but he had already concluded that he would be content to labor over it for a very long time if it meant he could remain close to Grace.

The phone rang just as she got up to make a pot of tea. Julius saw her flinch a little, even though it was a regular call, not an email alert.

Grace took the call. The conversation was brief.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, of course.” She glanced at the clock. “I can be there by two-thirty or three if the traffic isn’t bad.”

She ended the call and looked at Julius.

“That was someone from the Seattle Police Department,” she said. “Evidently there was a break-in at the Witherspoon Way office. The police aren’t sure when the burglary occurred and they can’t tell if anything of value was stolen. But because the incident may be linked to Sprague’s death, we’ve been asked to go to the office and see if we can figure out what was taken.”

“We?” Julius repeated.

“The three of us who worked for Sprague,” Grace explained. “Millicent and Kristy have also been asked to come in and take a look.”

“Well, it’s not like we weren’t planning on driving into the city this
afternoon for that damn dinner and charity auction tonight,” Julius said. “I’ll take care of a few things at my office while you and your friends talk to the police.”

“Okay,” she said.

“So, about tonight,” he said.

Everything inside her tightened a couple more notches. “Yes?”

“Looks like I’m more or less going to be keeping you company in the evenings until this stalker problem is resolved.”

“Yes?” she said again.

“What do you say we spend the night in the city? I’m thinking there’s no point making the long drive back here at midnight. I’ve got a guest bedroom at my condo.”

She gave that some thought. He was right. One way or another they would be spending the evening under the same roof. What did it matter if they drove back to Cloud Lake or stayed in Seattle?

“I’ll pack a bag,” she said.

Julius smiled and for a moment she once again pondered the risks of flirting with the Big Bad Wolf.

BOOK: Trust No One
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