Seasons of Love by Elizabeth Goddard Read Free Book Online Page A

though he wasn’t aware of any clients. Probably Chelsea had misunderstood.
    “There was that one man who came to meet with Mr. Connor. Twice, I think. I told him that you were out of town, but he insisted on meeting Mr. Connor.”
    Fire seared Zane’s stomach, and he groaned.
    “Are you all right?” Chelsea reached out to touch his shoulder.
    “Yes, fine, thanks. I just need to get my antacid. The twenty-four-hour stuff isn’t any match for my ulcers. I need the name of Mr. Connor’s client so I can contact him and let him know what happened, that John died in an accident.”
    Chelsea’s face went pale. “I—I don’t know his name. He didn’t give it. I’m so sorry. I’m a lame receptionist, aren’t I?” She plopped into her seat and looked at him for validation. Zane feared she would cry.
    “It’s all right, Chelsea. No need to be upset.”
The only person who ever came through the doors and you failed to get his name?
“What can you tell me about this man? Who did he work for?”
    She looked up at him, stricken. “If I knew that, don’t you think I would have gotten his name?”
    Zane could only frown at her. He couldn’t conjure a smile, even for Chelsea. “Quite right. Well, I guess this is good-bye, then. I wish you well.” Frustrated, he moved to head to his office.
    “Mr. Baldwyn?”
    He stopped and turned to face her again. “Yes?”
    “I can tell you the man sort of scared me. He had black hair and wore an expensive-looking black suit, kinda like you do, only you usually wear blue or dark gray.”
    “Scared you?”
    She nodded.
    “Why did he scare you?” Chelsea was inexperienced. She was being melodramatic.
    Eyes closed, she paused as if in deep thought. “I have a photographic memory. Did I ever tell you that? I can see him in my mind right now. Well, for one thing, he wasn’t warm and friendly. Usually people are friendly to me. Oh, oh. And I remember Mr. Connor wasn’t pleased to see him, at least at the office.”
    Heat rushed up Zane’s neck. “Did Mr. Connor actually say that?”
    Chelsea’s cheeks reddened enough to be seen through her heavy makeup. “Um… yes. I’m sorry. I overheard him.”
    “Thanks for the information. If you think of anything else, I’ll be in my office or Mr. Connor’s.”
    He left the reception desk and hurried down the hall to John’s office. He rummaged through the desk drawers, searching for anything that would tell him who John’s visitor had been. For all he knew, it could have been a friend. The way that Chelsea presented it, the man had been a client. Still, he wasn’t Zane’s client and John hadn’t mentioned him.
    Nothing was safe here—that is, if the thieves had left anything. Zane retrieved empty boxes from a spare room they’d used as storage and began packing anything that appeared important from John’s office. They’d taken the computer hardware and all of the storage media. Zane stashed manila folders, hoping they would contain hard copy of pertinent information, into the boxes.
    He went through the same drill in his own office and stuck the boxes in the dark corridor. He hadn’t realized it was so late and flicked on more lights as he went back to John’s office to make sure he hadn’t missed anything.
    Then he saw it.
    The picture of John’s sister, Riley, sat on the desk in a small bronze frame. He examined the photo closely. He was right. She looked very different in this photo, and his gut told him that it wasn’t her. Yet John had said it was his sister. Zane placed it on top of the files in a box and headed out the door to load his car.
    With all the boxes secured in the trunk and on the seats of his car, he hurried back to switch off the lights and lock the doors. When Zane returned to open his car door, movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. He looked at the corner of the building to see a shadow skate into the darkness.
    Zane jumped into his car and sped out of the parking lot. If he