gone elsewhere for financing.
The limo pulled even with his SUV, and the rear window partially rolled down. A slender, feminine hand reached out and waved goodbye before the traveling office drove away.
“Who’s the woman?” Kelly asked.
“Radcliff’s attorney. She’s an Olympic-caliber athlete in beach volleyball.”
“Sure she is. And I’m a supermodel.”
“I know this sounds crazy,” he said, “but this is a copy of a legitimate document, signed by my uncle. He used the Valiant gold as collateral.”
“Settling debts sounds like a job for Marian Whitman. She’s in charge of the money, right? Why did Radcliff contact you?”
“Because he’s a smart guy. He knows I’m more likely to pay him back than Marian or any other corporate officer.”
For Nick, the debt wasn’t about the money. He was motivated by concern for his uncle. More than anything else, he needed to find out what had caused Samuel to take his own life and scribble a note that said he was sorry. Apologizing was out of character. His uncle was the kind of man—the gutsy kind of man—who faced his mistakes and made them right.
Kelly rested her hands on the steering wheel. “Where do we go from here?”
“I’ve got to find out why Samuel needed a million dollars and what he was working on.”
“There must be records or blueprints or something,” she said. “Can we check his computer?”
“He barely kept track of what he was doing, hated using the computer.” But Nick knew how to get the information they needed. “Change seats with me. We’re going to see Julia.”
He exited the passenger side and came around the SUV. The conversation with Radcliff had given him new energy and strength. Instead of dull gray sadness, he had hope for finding out what happened. In the driver’s seat, he started the engine.
“Who’s Julia?” Kelly asked.
“Julia Starkey has been my uncle’s secretary for as long as I can remember. She came to work for him, probably thirty years ago, as a single mom with two young kids. They fell in love.”
“You’re going to have to fill in the blanks,” Kelly said. “Did Samuel have a wife when he fell in love with his secretary?”
“He never married. As far as I know, Julia was the only woman in his life. You’ll understand what I mean when you see her house. It’s an expression of his feelings for her.”
“Like the Taj Mahal.”
“That’s a tomb,” he said. “Julia’s house was designed for a living woman who appreciates the serenity of orderly surroundings. There’s something mysterious about the place. Uncle Samuel used to say that no matter how much time he spent with Julia, he’d never completely understand her.”
When he was a teenager, Nick had helped his uncle build Julia’s house, and his opinion of the property was colored by that experience. During that summer, he’d learned a lot about architecture. The mathematics and calculations of creating blueprints were only part of design. Samuel taught him about heart, about making a house into a home.
At a road leading into a mountain canyon, he took a right turn. Earlier today when he was at the Spencer Building, he’d noticed that Julia’s office, which was right next door to his uncle’s, was empty. Nobody expected her to come to work. Samuel’s death had to be harder on her than anyone else.
He looked over at Kelly. “You’re quiet.”
“I was trying to imagine what it would be like to have someone love you so much that they built you a house.” She gave him a wistful smile. “It’s epic.”
He wanted to tell her that every woman deserved a castle and a man who loved her so deeply that he would shape his life around her wants and needs, but he wasn’t that much of a romantic. Real life was seldom that pretty. “Don’t get the wrong idea. Julia and Samuel weren’t a lovey-dovey couple. He was a dreamer, and she was pragmatic. They argued all the time.”
“And he never married her.” Her eyebrows pulled down into a frown. “I guess no relationship is perfect.”
Perfection was too much to hope for. He’d gladly settle for what Samuel had with Julia.
Chapter Six
Monday, 2:25 p.m.
After Nick’s description, Kelly expected a gigantic mansion or, at least, a couple of turrets. Instead, she saw a home built of dark wood and lots of windows, many of which were stained glass that sparkled like exotic jewels in the forested surroundings. Rather than reaching for the sky, Julia’s house was primarily horizontal, gradually rising to three stories. If they hadn’t taken a turn at the driveway, she might have driven right by the place.
“It’s kind of secretive,” she said.
“So is Julia.”
The afternoon sunlight shone brightly on the large wooden deck nearest the driveway. Under the eaves, Kelly noticed the figure of a tall, thin woman who stood in the shadows with her arms folded across her middle. She didn’t look welcoming. “Maybe we should have called before dropping by.”
“Julia is practically my aunt,” he said. “Besides, she might have told me not to come, and I need to find out about Samuel’s latest project.”
He parked in front of a three-car garage, and they climbed a winding path that led to the front entryway. As they approached, the details of the house became clear.
Surrounding the path and all along the side of the house, Samuel had used xeriscaping techniques that wouldn’t require watering, which was always a problem in the arid Colorado climate. The placement of rocks and plants reminded her of a Japanese garden, and she heard the gentle echo of a wind chime. There didn’t seem to be a right angle anywhere. Some of the wood beams featured delicate carvings or calligraphy. The most interesting feature was the play of light through blue, purple, red and green stained-glass pieces that created an ever-changing mosaic of color.
If this house truly represented the woman who lived here, Kelly expected to find someone of hidden depth and passion.
When Julia answered the bell, Kelly was a little disappointed. The tall, thin woman was dressed in a shapeless brown skirt and a top in a similar dull color. Her faded gray hair was cut short to frame her angular face. She didn’t seem remarkable at all.
Nick introduced her, and Kelly shook Julia’s cold hand. “I’m sorry for you loss,” she said.
“You’re the nurse who was with Samuel when he died.”
“Before he died,” Kelly corrected. “He was barely conscious.”
“Could he speak?”
“A little bit.” Like everyone else, she wanted to hear Samuel’s last words.
“Did he say my name?”
