Chapter One

September. Devil’s Elbow, Oregon.

“Miss Connor, your father will see you now.”

Alan Grant was the newest in a long line of personal assistants. “Thanks! He’s in the library?”

Alan nodded. Elizabeth crossed the slate-floored hall and turned the crystal knob.

An interior designer had worked long and expensively to create a British nobleman’s library on the Oregon coast. The room had fascinated her as a child, but now she’d actually seen a couple of stately home libraries and knew a fake when she saw it.

Her father was standing by the window, beside Laran Radcliffe. Darn! She’d purposely come to the house rather than the office to avoid Laran. What was the man doing here? Had he moved in? They seemed so joined at the hip, it made her wonder if her father slept with him. She held back a smile at that thought.

“Lizzie, my dear!” Her father greeted her with open arms. “This is a surprise.” She hugged him and they air-kissed, just missing touching. He stood back, his hands on her shoulders. “Now, what’s so important it brought you all this way?”

“Good afternoon, Miss Connor.”

“Good afternoon, Laran.” The man made her flesh creep. It was those eyes, and the belly-of-a-snake white skin that looked as if he never sweated. “Could I talk to you alone, Father?” She was not discussing this in front of Laran Radcliffe, like as not he was in cahoots with the Marshes.

Her father hesitated. Was he going to insist the man stayed? No, thank the Goddess! At a nod from her father, Laran walked noiselessly across the Aubusson carpet and closed the door behind him.

“Well, Lizzie? Shall we sit down?” Her father indicated the leather-covered wing chairs by the now- empty grate. “What is it brought you all this way, that you can’t tell me on the phone, and you won’t say in front of Laran?” He leaned back in his chair, elbows resting on the arms and fingers steepled. His air of amusement irked her. He wouldn’t smile when he heard what she had to say.

“There’s something major wrong at Mariposa. Fraud perhaps.”

He looked her up and down. She resisted the childhood urge to make sure her hair was smooth and her socks pulled up. “What makes you think that?”

“They have two sets of financial records.”

That got his attention. His eyebrows rose as he lowered his fingers and meshed them as if praying. “I never realized you were an auditor.”

“I’m not, but I do know how to add up. They’ve got something funny going on: a separate record of transactions only identified by numbers. Some quite big amounts. I think they’re skimming off into their own pockets. Corresponding amounts don’t appear in the ledgers.”

“That’s quite an accusation. Can you be sure?”

“Sure enough to come all this way to tell you.” At the time, it seemed important to discuss this face to face, but now . . .

“How did you explain that to the Marshes?”

“I told them I needed a week off to let you know they were cooking the books!”

“Lizzie! Please!”

“Dad, I’m not stupid. I told them I was coming home for Heather’s birthday.”

“Heather?” He frowned as if not recognizing the name. “Oh, Adela’s girl.”

“My sister.” The only one she had, despite her father’s four failed marriages. “I’m going to see her before I return.”

“I hope you’ll spend some time here.”

She’d planned to. “A couple of nights.”

“Good. Now, what exactly do you think you found over there?”

She explained, as best she could, and to her surprise her father listened to every word. “You’re sure about this?”

“Dad, I’m not a CPA. Let the experts check. If I’m wrong, fine, but if I’m right, something downright sleazy is going on.”

“So it would seem.” He frowned. “Have you mentioned this to anyone else?”

“Dad, I’m not stupid! From things the Marshes said, Laran approached them to buy when the company was foundering. They don’t exactly cross themselves when they say his name, but they’d do anything he asked.” As would most of the small workforce who regarded Connor Inc. as their savior.

He pursed his lips as if considering the possibility. “You think Laran would set up something underhand?”

She’d have no trouble believing anything of her father’s right-hand man, but she kept that to herself. “I didn’t say that, Dad. I just think having someone other than him check this out would be a good idea.”

He smiled. “Lizzie, you’re right; this won’t go beyond these walls. I’ll have it looked into. Get yourself unpacked, and this evening I’ll take you into Florence for dinner. Maybe we can spend a little time together.”

“That would be great.”

Assistant Alan was hovering in the foyer as she closed the library door behind her. “Miss Connor, I took your bags up to your room. If there’s anything else you need...”

Everything else she needed right now was beyond the talents of eager Alan. “I’m fine, thanks.”

Once in her old room, she kicked off her shoes, pulled a chair over to the window and, propping her bare feet up on the window ledge, gazed at the white caps and the gray ocean, and wondered why she’d come all this way to get brushed off, and how soon she could decently leave.