she said, nodding to the chair on the opposite side of the table. Chris walked to the chair and sat down across from her and waited. If she was nervous, she didn’t show it. Her expression was serene and carefully blank. She’d learned to hide what she was thinking and he wondered what was going on in her head.
“What do you hope to accomplish with this meeting today?” she asked.
This was a surprise, he thought. He’d made his plans clear to all three women. He wanted to settle Marc’s estate in a way that was fair to everyone. “The same thing I’d hoped to accomplish for the past month—to settle Marc’s estate. Why the sudden interest?”
She held his gaze and studied him with the intensity of a starving man at a buffet. For a brief moment, he could sense the turmoil behind the polite expression. He tensed, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Renee studied her hands, surprised they weren’t shaking or clenched. She was taking a risk. A big risk. It would be worth it, she thought. It had to be.
Meeting Chris Foster again was harder than she thought it would be. He looked nothing like Marc, for which she was grateful. She didn’t know if she could go through with her plan if he’d remotely resembled his brother.
She could do this, she thought. She would do this. She lifted her head and met his steady gaze. His eyes were the color of pale amber framed by long, black lashes. They reminded her of a panther she’d seen on a television documentary. The panther looked like a lazy cat but later proved that looks could be deceiving. The cat had been a dangerous and deadly predator. She hoped Chris Foster wasn’t.
“I will agree to the terms of your latest offer. If…” She paused and swallowed. Her mouth felt dry and she wished she’d accepted the secretary’s earlier offer to get her something to drink. “If,” she continued, “you will find something Marc took from my family.” Please, God, she prayed. Please let him accept this offer.
“What did Marc take?”
Renee opened the black portfolio in front of her and slid the photograph across the table. She watched as he picked up the picture and studied it. She was surprised by his lack of reaction to the photo. The picture was flawless like the diamonds in the necklace were—flawless and breathtaking.
“Real diamonds?” he asked, then put the picture on the table.
“Of course,” she said. “I had the necklace appraised again for my great-aunt last year. Here are copies of two appraisals,” she said and gave him a folder.
He took the folder and flipped through the pages. His brows drew together in a frown. “Are you sure Marc took it?”
“I’m positive. My great-aunt asked Marc to take it to the jeweler to have it cleaned. I usually do that for her, but this time she asked Marc to do it. The necklace was in a safe-deposit box and Marc’s initials were on the release form. I’ve contacted all the jewelry stores in Birmingham and none of them had the necklace. I’ve looked through all of Marc’s papers and couldn’t find anything about the necklace.”
“If I decide to look for the necklace, what guarantee do I have that you will keep your word?”
“I will have Terrell draft a contract. You haven’t known me for long and you have no reason to trust me. I understand that. But I have no reason to trust you, either. I think a contract clearly stating the terms would be best.” He seemed like a nice enough guy. He’d tried to create order at Marc’s funeral when the three wives learned of each other’s existence. When she saw him again on the Marc III, the yacht Marc purchased with money he’d stolen from Alex, Chris appeared to honestly want to do what was fair for all of them. Still, she had a hard time trusting him, Marc’s brother, without an iron-clad contract. Marc had shown her that it was best not to trust a Foster man.
“What makes you think I can find this necklace and how long has it been missing?”
“The necklace has been gone for about a month. Why do I think you can find the necklace?” She raised her hand, lifted her index finger. “One. From what I’ve heard, you are good at your job. Two. You work for the FBI and you have access to more resources than a private investigator. Three. I think you want to see the last of me and my lawyer. Because if that necklace isn’t returned to my aunt Gert before she finds out it’s missing, I can guarantee you that I will make this process as slow and painful as possible.”
“Are you threatening me?” he asked softly. His pale brown gaze hardened.
Her mouth grew dry like Weiss Lake during last year’s drought. She didn’t want to imagine what he could do to her if he thought she was a threat to him. Marc had been in decent shape, but this man exuded a kind of strength and power that was unmistakable.
“No. I’m not threatening you. I’m just letting you know how important it is for me to get this necklace to Aunt Gert. So do we have a deal?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound as desperate and afraid as she was. She leaned her arms on the large conference room table and linked her fingers together to keep them from shaking.
He glanced down at the picture of the necklace that he’d laid on the table in front of him. His long, black lashes concealed his gaze and should have made him look feminine, but there was nothing soft about Chris Foster. He slid the photo to the side. “I’ll help you find the necklace.”
“Great,” she said, nearly sighing in relief. “I figured we could start with Marc’s credit cards.”
“We?”
“Yes, we.”
“I thought the deal was for me to find the necklace.”
“I do want you to find it, but I’m not going to sit around doing nothing.”
“What do you know about recovering stolen jewelry?”
“Nothing, but I do know how to find information and how to find it quickly. This will be a joint effort. I expect you to include me and to use my skills as a research librarian. I won’t be left out of the loop on this.”
“I work better alone.”
“Working alone isn’t an option. It’s all or nothing.”
Chapter 2
Renee sat with her back straight and her hands resting in her lap. After years of Saturday morning etiquette and decorum classes, she was well aware of the calm and relaxed image she projected. She’d learned two important lessons from all those years of misery in classes where she just didn’t fit in with the other girls: straight and erect posture and what she called her “game” face. Social etiquette didn’t make sense to her. There were too many rules and too many exceptions to the rules. But learning to hide her emotions behind the game face had gotten her through the countless social events her parents forced her to attend. It had helped her hide her pain and saved her pride when her parents left her at school during the holidays. This time it wasn’t just her pride at stake. Chris Foster had to accept her offer. He was her last hope.
She kept her expression calm and serene. But her stomach felt as if she’d swallowed a box of rocks. She needed his help and she hated feeling so dependent on him. If she could have found a private detective willing to find the necklace without telling her aunt Gert, she would have done everything she could to avoid coming in direct contact with Chris Foster again. The man made her nervous.
