Rivals by Janet Dailey Read Free Book Online Page A

erect form, then closed the door on her. Turning into the room, Chance hesitated a split second, then crossed to the telephone and dialed the number to Sam’s private line.
    As before, the call was answered on the first ring. “Hello.”
    â€œChance.” He identified himself and glanced briefly at the door. “It looks like we may have a problem, Sam.”
    â€œHattie,” he guessed immediately.
    â€œRight. She claims another relative exists, one who will be the heir to Morgan’s Walk.”
    â€œWhat?! My God, Chance, you don’t think it’s true, do you?”
    â€œI don’t know, but I intend to find out.”
    â€œShe could be bluffing.”
    â€œI can’t take that gamble, Sam. The stakes are too high,” he replied grimly. “Get hold of Matt Sawyer. Tell him to drop whatever he’s doing and get on this right away. If there is a second legitimate heir to Morgan’s Walk, then Canon’s probably the one who tracked this person down. Tell Matt to start working on that angle.”
    â€œWill do.”
    Chance paused briefly, then asked, “Is Molly there?”
    â€œSitting right here,” Sam confirmed, a smile in his voice.
    His own mouth curved faintly in response to the image that flashed instantly into his mind of the sweet-faced woman who, only now at fifty-five, had started to count the strands of gray in her brown hair. Widowed and childless, Molly Malone had gone to work for him nearly fifteen years ago, starting out as a part-time secretary, girl Friday, and office cleaning lady. Somewhere along the line in those first few months, she had added mothering to her other duties. She ran his office staff now, some said with an iron hand, although she was still butter in his. Time clocks meant nothing to her. She worked all hours; “Whatever it takes” was her favorite line. She lived the Stuart Corporation—not out of loyalty to her job but because it was his. Chance knew that. Just as he knew that no woman could be more devoted to her son than Molly was to him—even to the extent of making his enemies her own. And of them she hated Hattie most of all—almost obsessively so.
    He glanced at the gold Rolex on his wrist. “It’s already after midnight there in Tulsa. I suppose she stayed to find out what Hattie wanted with me.”
    â€œYou got it.”
    â€œSince she’s there, tell her to get on the phone and start calling all the hotels in San Francisco until she finds the one where Hattie’s staying. As soon as she does, relay that information to Matt. He’s bound to have an investigating firm that he works with here on the West Coast. I want to know her every move—her every contact from the time she arrived to the time she leaves.”
    â€œYou don’t believe that Hattie flew all the way out there just to see you, do you?” Sam declared with dawning awareness. “You think this alleged long-lost relative might live out there.”
    â€œIt’s a possibility we can’t overlook.” Without a break, Chance continued, “I’m flying out to Tahoe first thing in the morning. I’ll probably be tied up most of the day with the architect and engineer going over the design problems we have on the main hotel and casino structure. I hope we won’t have to make any changes that will affect the companion ski lodge and chalets. But you know how to reach me if anything comes up. Otherwise, I’ll be back in Tulsa late Sunday night. Tell Matt I’ll expect him in my office nine o’clock Monday morning with a full report.”
    â€œDone.”
    As Sam’s parting “Take care” faded, Chance hung up the phone. For a moment he stood there idly studying the empty brandy glass in his other hand. Then he turned and started across the room, loosening the knot of his black tie and unfastening the collar button of his shirt as he went. At the bar, he