voice was firm. “I promise you I won’t take more than two more minutes to explain.”
Stubborn woman.
Cade didn’t have time for any of this. He had to get back to the office. Though something in her eyes compelled him to stand still. “Fine. You have my attention.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
She didn’t bother sitting down. “As the sheriff said, I’m Dr. Patience Clark, Stonegate’s forensic anthropologist. Your father’s remains were brought to Austin by the sheriff for identification.”
Cade inclined his head slightly to let her know he understood.
“I’ll cut to the chase, since you have no interest in what happened to him. I felt you should know your father was murdered about twenty years ago on some land just outside of your hometown.”
Murdered?
In Phosphor?
The knot in Cade’s chest tightened even more. That meant… No, she had to be wrong. Why was this happening now? His phone vibrated again and Cade took it out and glanced at it as the sheriff and Patience watched him.
His father didn’t leave the family, after all. Cade rubbed his forehead and tried to process the information, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t deal with this today.
Cade shoved what Patience told him on a mental shelf. He’d deal with it after the merger. His employees were depending on him making this deal work.
“I apologize for my behavior and I appreciate you bringing this to my attention. Unfortunately, I have to go.” He started to back out the door.
Patience gave him a wary glance. “One more minute, please.” She pulled out a two-page document. “If you’ll sign this, it’ll give me permission to pursue your father’s murder on your behalf, then I’ll get out of your hair. You may not care who killed him, but my company, Stonegate Investigative Agency, has a one hundred percent close rate when consulting on cases. I need to find your father’s murderer. The sheriff will be supervising the investigation.”
Cade’s gut burned with anxiety and he ran his fingers through his hair. He had to get out of there. “I’ll sign anything you want, but I’m not sure what you think you’re going to find after twenty years. Seems like a waste of time to me.”
She pushed the documents toward him on the desk and pointed where she needed his signature. “My guess is you’ve never been on an archeological dig. You’d be surprised what can be found even after thousands of years. The sheriff told me the bones were discovered by hikers in a shallow grave that had been wasted away by erosion in a remote area, so if it’s been untouched there’s a good chance I’ll find something.”
“It’s your time.” He shoved the papers toward her.
“Thank you.” She pulled the signed papers to her chest.
The lifted eyebrow told him she didn’t approve of his attitude, but he couldn’t worry about that. The merger about to take place meant big things for his company. The value of his employees’ stocks would rise through the roof, and he could start the new research division for their microchip and have an entirely new brand of supercomputers out next year.
He shook the sheriff’s hand and took Patience’s hand in his. It was soft, and he had a feeling her scent would linger on his skin. “Thank you, again.”
His phone buzzed, and he answered it.
“Sir, Greg is here and he says he has to talk to you now.” His assistant was excited, which meant something had happened.
“Give me thirty seconds and then put him on.”
Cade tried to smile at the sheriff and at Patience but was sure that it came off more as a grimace.
“Again, I appreciate your efforts.” He turned to leave.
“Here,” she said. “This is my information, in case you have any questions.”
He stuffed the folded piece of paper into his pocket and hurried for the door, the phone at his ear.
As Greg spoke, he tried to listen, but his mind was on his father and the woman who had given him the news. While Cade usually didn’t care what people believed of him, it bothered him that she might consider him a coldhearted jerk. Well, he could be when it came to business, but that was different.
“Cade, did you hear me? The meeting has been moved up to ten. You have to get here now,” Greg yelled through the phone. Normally, Cade wouldn’t take such insubordination from an employee, but Greg was also one of his best friends.
Cade slipped into the limo waiting for him and the driver shut the door.
“Greg, calm down. I’m on my way. I’ll be there in five. We have plenty of time to go over any last-minute issues.”
The other man went on to tell Cade some of the details, but he only half listened. He pulled the folded sheet from his jacket pocket. Her business card slipped out, the scent of honeysuckle filled his senses. He opened the piece of paper to find a brief note.
“I dare you to help me find your father’s killer.”
She’d met him less than ten minutes ago and she knew exactly how to get to him.
Cade wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
PATIENCE SAT IN THE BASEMENT of Phosphor’s
County Courthouse, staring at six giant boxes of records. Her job usually involved identifying bones, some of which were centuries old. This was her first time to do any real detective work, something she normally left to others at the agency.
The seasoned professionals at Stonegate knew exactly how to tackle cold murder cases. With so many colleagues busy with other projects and a burning desire to get out of the lab, Patience couldn’t let this case rest. She couldn’t stand the idea of this poor man being murdered and no one caring enough to do something about it.
Her mind flashed to the sexy Cade Randall. The instant their eyes met, her body reacted with a heated blush. That sort of thing never happened to her and she’d been worried she might be coming down with a cold. But when those steely gray eyes of his had narrowed in on her, she could tell he was just as attracted to her as she was to him. Anthropologically speaking the reaction was an interesting phenomenon, one she wouldn’t mind pursuing.
Too bad he’s a jerk.
Shoving her hair up into a ponytail, she moved toward the boxes, grateful experienced agency detectives Shannon and Katie had given her advice on where to start. No one seemed to know who owned the land where the bones were discovered. Finding the answer was her first assignment on the well-ordered plan she’d devised.
“More than likely, no one wants to lay claim because they are worried about the consequences,” Katie had informed her. “Some of the records may be really old, and property lines shift all the time. When land is inherited or sold and the surveyors don’t know what they’re doing, anything can happen. There have been cases where fifty years later a farmer discovers part of the land he’s been working on most of his life, isn’t his. Disputes over land, especially in Texas, are a big deal. It’s a good place
