problems on the job in the past.”
“Oh, I’m sure he hasn’t. He’s the poster child of patience and ability. I’m the rogue element here.”
“Touché.” Stuart laughed. “I’m biased where Mackenzie is concerned. He’s my late wife’s namesake—Julia Mackenzie Gerard. As I’m so fond of him, I do hope you’ll forgive me. But in order to correct my mistake, I’ll need your take on the stories.”
“They’re nothing more than urban legends,” she said dryly. “Your grandson and I get along fine. Not to worry.”
Stuart shot a glance toward the grandson in question and his matchmaking dance partner. “I’m not worried at all. I believe my grandson may have finally met his match.”
Gerard’s threat echoed in her memory. I’ll get you in bed, Harley. Trust me.
The man had met his match. She just hoped he was as smart as his grandfather to realize it.
2
MAC HAD NO APPOINTMENTS scheduled this morning, but when he arrived at work shortly before nine, Melissa, Eastman Investigations’s office manager, tipped the phone receiver fastened to her head and mouthed, “Your grandfather’s here.”
“In my office?” he asked, surprised.
She shook her head. “Josh’s office, and Harley’s with them. They told me to send you in when you got here.”
Mac strode through the reception area and down the hallway. After knocking on his boss’s door, he found Josh seated behind his desk, his grandfather in front and Harley half sitting on the side, contemplating him stoically.
She was back in black today, the narrow-legged slacks and blazer drawing his attention to the way her body stretched away from the desk, all graceful lines and sleek curves.
He nodded in greeting, then slipped a hand over his grandfather’s shoulder. “What’s going on?”
His grandfather glanced up with a somber expression. “Good morning, Mackenzie. I’ve been explaining to Josh and Harley that I seem to have a thief loose in my house.”
Mac sat down beside his grandfather, frowning. The house in question was the house he’d been reared in, a Garden District mansion where both his grandfather and parents still lived.
“What’s missing?”
“Your grandmother’s wedding rings.”
“No chance they were accidentally moved or misplaced?”
His grandfather shook his head. “You know I never move them. I suppose I should keep them in the safe, but…” He trailed off and shrugged.
Mac knew those rings stayed inside his grandmother’s jewelry box on her dresser, where his grandfather could look at them whenever he wanted a reminder of the woman he’d loved for most of his life, and had so recently lost.
“Grandmother’s jewelry should be safe in the house. What did you do after noticing the rings missing?”
“Took a thorough inventory of everything of value I don’t lock up and asked your parents to do the same. All their things are accounted for, but I’m missing my father’s pocket watch and your grandmother’s pearls.”
“You keep the pocket watch in your armoire?”
His grandfather nodded.
“So you’re missing several items from various places. Narrows down the suspect list.” He thought of the few employees who had access to his grandfather’s private apartment. “Have you reported the thefts to the police yet?”
“Apparently there’s a problem with that,” Josh said, and Mac guessed by his tone that he wasn’t happy with this problem, whatever it was. “That’s what we were just discussing.”
After so many years as a district attorney, his grandfather knew enough people in the police department that an investigation should have happened immediately. “What’s up?”
“As I was telling Harley and Josh, once I discovered these pieces missing, I wrote a list of everyone with access to the house. Seemed to be a safe place to start.” He gave a wan smile. “As I’m sure you’re aware, Mackenzie, that list is small. James and Pearl have been with me for years and I trust them implicitly, which leaves me with the cleaning and lawn-maintenance services. As the lawn-maintenance people don’t usually come inside…”
“You’re left with the cleaning service.”
“Right. But I’ve used the same service since your grandmother hired them nearly sixty years ago. You can understand I’m wary about making accusations without proof.”
Mac understood his grandfather’s concern and agreed with his assessment of the house staff’s trustworthiness. Pearl had been stuffing the family full of her Deep South specialties for as long as he could remember and James had spent nearly twenty years trying to direct Mac and his siblings’ activities outside of the house, where the aftereffects were less noticeable.
“I know Mrs. Noralee’s daughter is still running their business, Grandfather, but she has turnover with her staff. It’s possible she’s hired someone she can’t trust.”
“I agree, which is why I called some friends who use her cleaning service to see if they’ve had any problems.”
“Good idea. What came of it?”
“Five other clients with similar losses.” Harley reached for a document in front of Josh, handed Mac what turned out to be an inventory list. She was cool, professional, nothing in her expression letting on that they’d ever discussed a fling during the wedding. “They’re all missing small, high-ticket items that usually aren’t noticed immediately.”
Mac scanned the list, recognized the names. He glanced up at Josh. “Miss Q’s been hit, too.”
Josh nodded. “Basically we’ve got Nice and Neat as the commonality, with a staff of twelve who regularly service the Garden District on rotating schedules.”
Mac turned to his grandfather. “I don’t see why the police can’t investigate, so we can start attempting to recover the stolen items.”
Unfortunately, the chance of recovery was slim, and one look at his grandfather’s expression told Mac he knew it. Which left Mac to vainly question why, out of all the valuables in the family home, his grandmother’s rings—irreplaceable for their sentimental value alone—had been taken.
“That’s why I’m here, Mackenzie,” his grandfather said. “We want to move quickly. We’ve all lost things that mean a great deal to us. We’re pooling our efforts and hiring Eastman Investigations to investigate.”
“I’m still missing something here.” Mac cast a sidelong glance at Harley, found her watching him with an expression that revealed nothing.
“We can’t go to the police because of Noralee,” his grandfather said as if that explained everything. “She’s a good friend. She started Noralee’s Nice and Neat over sixty
