money. It was really that simple.
He leaned forward and pressed the elevator call button. “I’ll see you tonight.”
She watched him walk away, an inner struggle warring inside her.
The elevator doors opened but she didn’t get inside. Impulse made her walk after Carson.
“Carson?”
He stopped and faced her.
“I’m sorry. Maybe I am out of line. Ruby married a rich man and all it got her was a broken heart. His family never accepted her. And now the inheritance is pulling her back into that life. I’m afraid of what it will do to her. That’s why I can’t help wishing Reginald had left Ruby out of his will.”
A sexy grin curved up on his face. “I’m glad he didn’t.”
Georgia stared at him in slow comprehension. He wasn’t glad for Ruby, he was glad for himself. Because he’d met her.
The sound of a car approaching penetrated her awareness. They stood in the middle of the parking garage lane. Georgia stepped back to get out of the way when she spotted a man wearing sunglasses and a hat aim a gun out of the driver-side window.
Carson tackled her right as fear consumed her and the gun fired. She landed hard on the concrete behind the protection of a pickup truck. More shots rang out, pinging as the bullets hit the truck. Carson stayed on top of her while tires screeched and the sound of the car grew fainter.
Georgia sat up when Carson stood to peer over the hood of the truck. Georgia could no longer hear the car.
“Who was that?” she asked, breathy with wild adrenaline.
“I don’t know.” He reached for her hands to help her to her feet. “Are you hurt?”
Stepping back from him, she surveyed her body, wiping her hands down her now-dirty skirt suit. She had a minor scrape on her leg and her hands were a little sore, but other than a little shaken up, she was okay. “No bullet holes, so I couldn’t be better.”
Her attempt at humor fell flat on him. His brow was dark and low in grave contemplation. He must have some ideas about who had just shot at them. Wait. Why would anyone shoot at her? The inheritance? It didn’t seem likely. And as she recalled the way the man had aimed the gun, it hadn’t been directed at her. It had been directed at Carson.
“Why would anyone want to shoot you?” she asked.
His eyes met hers but he’d closed up. “Go back inside, Georgia. I’ll take care of this.”
Take care of it how? He ushered her to the elevator.
“But—”
He gave her a gentle push when the doors opened. She stepped inside and faced him.
“The police may want to question you.”
“I can wait for them to get here.”
“Go back inside. I want you out of danger. What if the car returns?”
“What about you?” He was in more danger than her.
“I was a marine. I can take care of myself.” Instead of sounding conceited, he spoke out of honesty and in a teasing tone. Sexy. Manly. A molten shiver ran through her. Then she checked herself. If she wasn’t careful, she could fall head over heels...for an Adair.
After the detective questioned them and AdAir Security gave him the recording of what had happened in the parking garage, he left to begin an investigation. Now Carson turned to Whit, who stood behind his desk, too charged up to sit down. He leaned against the wall with his feet crossed and arms folded, and Georgia sat on a sofa next to Ruby. The detective had asked them about Reginald’s murder and, after cautioning them over carrying on their own investigation, seemed to think the shooting might be related to their meddling.
“Why would Dad’s killer shoot at you and not me?” Whit asked. “We’re both looking into his murder and Jackson’s kidnapping.”
“Maybe he hasn’t tried to kill you yet,” Georgia said.
“I don’t think it was Dad’s killer who shot at me.”
Whit’s brow lifted. “Oh? You didn’t mention that to the detective.”
No, but his thoughts were filled with other possibilities. Disturbing possibilities. “We don’t have anything on the murder. No leads. Our best suspect is our mother and she’s not in the country. Why go to the extreme of killing us when it appears our mother is the one who murdered Dad?”
“Who do you think it could be?” Georgia asked.
Carson looked at her but didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure how much he should say.
“What motive would Mom have?” Whit asked. “That’s always bothered me. Why would she kill Dad?”
“Who knows?” Carson said. “She tried to kill Elizabeth. Dad was so distant with her, she could have done it as a result of his neglect. Their relationship wasn’t good.”
“No, it wasn’t. Not true love, that’s for sure. But is that enough to make her kill him?”
Maybe Patsy had taken all she could and finally snapped, beginning with the murder attempt on Elizabeth. But if the kidnapper had killed Reginald for getting too close, then it seemed unlikely that Patsy could have been that person. He supposed the kidnapper could have killed Reginald and was now going after Carson and Whit, but Carson didn’t think that was what happened in the parking garage.
The way the shooter had carried out the shooting, covertly moving in and making a clean getaway, was tactical and planned. Would Jackson’s kidnapper be so professional? Possibly, but Carson didn’t think so.
“What are you thinking?” Whit asked, moving around his desk. He must see Carson’s doubt and concern. He stopped before him.
“What’s wrong?” Georgia asked.
He looked over at her, again unsure of how much he should say.
“Do you have any idea who might have shot at you?” Whit asked.
Slowly, Carson nodded.
“Who?” Georgia asked. Beside her, Ruby followed the thread of conversation by looking from one to another.
“My last mission didn’t go as planned,” Carson said.
“You were shot.”
Yes, he’d been shot, but a lot had happened before that. He glanced at Ruby and Georgia again. “It was a classified mission.”
“Were you in the military?” Ruby asked, innocent of what Carson might be implying—that someone from the failed mission had come shooting at him.
“Yes.
