Trouble in Tallahassee (Familiar Legacy Book 3) Page 17

  Abby gives him a broad smile, touches her hair again, and rocks me in her arms.

  “Forget the spilled cologne. Why don’t I take you to supper, and we can catch up with each other? It’s been a long time since you were the prettiest redhead in my class.”

  Abby nods, still smiling. “That would be lovely. Say around six? You can pick me up at the law firm. Oh, and what kind of car do you drive?”

  If Miguel thinks Abby’s question is odd, he doesn’t show it. Probably too busy hatching whatever plans he has for Abby.

  “A red Audi TTS. You’ll love riding in it. Drives like a dream.”

  I can feel Abby’s hold on me tighten. She was no doubt hoping he was going to say he drove a black BMW.

  “Till then.” Abby smiles as she glides out of Miguel’s office, but her face goes flat and hard the moment she shuts his door.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Abby dashed down the hallway and collided with Victor. “Come on.” She grabbed Victor’s arm and they sped around the corner, Trouble racing along between them with his head up as if on alert.

  By the time she pulled Victor into an empty conference room, Abby was slightly out of breath.

  “What?” Victor asked, too loudly.

  Trouble and Abby both shushed him.

  “What?” This time Victor’s voice was lower, but no less demanding. “What happened in that office?”

  “Jennifer.” Abby said it with finality, as if that explained the whole thing.

  Victor backed up, eyeing Abby, his face a study in puzzlement. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean Jennifer and Miguel were having an affair.” Abby inhaled deeply as Trouble looked up at both of them and nodded his head. “See, even Trouble figured that out.”

  “I’m sorry I’m not clairvoyant like your cat. Maybe you could explain this to me.” Victor put his hands gently on Abby’s arms and pulled her closer to him. “What did you learn that makes you think that?”

  “The cologne. He had a very expensive bottle of cologne.”

  “So?”

  “It’s the same kind of cologne Jennifer buys for Phillip.” Abby had smelled delightful whiffs of L’Homme Prada from time to time on Phillip. “Jennifer gave him a bottle at our office birthday party for him this past winter. We all passed it around and admired it.”

  “Okay, so they both wear the same kind of expensive men’s cologne. A little pretentious of both, but how does that equate to an affair between Jennifer and Miguel?”

  “Don’t you see?” Abby sounded exasperated. “How better to hide any…well, lingering scents…if you give your husband and your lover the same cologne. Phillip’s not going to think he’s smelling someone else’s cologne on her, or her things—he’d just figure he was smelling his own.”

  Victor dropped his hands from Abby’s arms and took a small step backwards. His face became a mask. “And you know this trick because you’ve used it?”

  Abby glared at him. He was accusing her—well, insinuating anyway—that she was practiced in the art of cheating. Without thinking, she blurted out. “I’ve hardly had any boyfriends, let alone two at the same time.” She paused, trying to control her rising anger. They didn’t have time for this. They had to figure out how they could trick or force Miguel into revealing where Layla was.

  But staring into Victor’s hard face just made her angrier. “I’m not a cheater!”

  Abby flung herself away from Victor and dashed out of the conference room. Once in the hallway, she started running, passing by students and staff without looking at them. Trouble kept pace beside her. She ran down the hallway toward the library, where she could find a quiet study carrel to fume in solitude.

  And not just fume, but figure this out. She needed to have a coherent story when she went to Rizzo and Lucas or a foolproof plan if she confronted Miguel herself.

  If Victor was going to be such an ass, she’d just have to save Layla by herself—that is, she and Trouble.

  Damn Victor anyway. His first wife cheated, so naturally he assumed she would too.

  And he hadn’t even let her finish explaining.

  It wasn’t just the same cologne. It was the tooled silver vanity set she’d seen in Miguel’s drawer. She’d seen the same set on a table in a spare room at the Drapers’ house with a host of other, unwrapped presents during a Christmas party.

  Abby pushed through the library doors and headed immediately downstairs to the basement where the quietest spots in the whole law school were. Trouble kept pace beside her, but he didn’t meow or rub against her. He seemed preoccupied. That, Abby could understand.

  Once in the basement, she found the same carrel she’d been in the night Layla disappeared. Though it was draped in yellow crime tape, Abby sat down. Trouble leapt for her lap. But he didn’t curl up or purr; instead he licked her earlobe, where she wore a simple silver hoop earring.

  “Okay, Trouble. The earring. I get it. And the wedding ring. But…I don’t get it.”

  Trouble meowed and licked her ear again. Then he lowered his head and pressed his head against her chest. Where her heart was.

  Abby thought as hard as she could. The earring was a matter of the heart. That’s what Trouble had just told her. And of course, obviously, the wedding ring would be a matter of the heart too.

  A missing wedding ring and a missing earring from a set. And Jennifer had been concerned enough to get duplicates made, even if the copies were not as finely crafted as the originals.

  The earrings must have been a gift from Phillip and probably a cherished present. The wedding ring should have been priceless to Jennifer.

  No doubt Jennifer didn’t want Phillip to know her ring and one of the earrings were missing—or more likely, why they were missing. Though Abby had no way to know for sure, she concluded that Jennifer had copies made in the hopes that Phillip would never notice the lost originals.

  Maybe she lost her wedding band and the missing earring at Miguel’s house? She could imagine Jennifer taking off her ring before she fell into bed with Miguel. And the earring might have fallen out while they had sex.

  But wouldn’t Jennifer have noticed and reclaimed them?

  Trouble head butted Abby again, with a persistent meow. He turned his head back toward the elevator that led to the hallway to the professors’ offices and let out a hiss.

  Of course. Miguel stole the ring and earring. That’s what Trouble was trying to tell her.

  “Okay, Trouble, I get it. Miguel took Jennifer’s jewelry. But how did Layla get it?

  Trouble rubbed his head against Abby’s cheek, and she looked into his green eyes. As she stared, she remembered what Victor had told her and that police detective about the phone conversation he’d overheard between Layla and someone at the Drapers’ house. Something about Layla agreeing that she would keep the secret, or hide the secret, but only if the other person promised to help her do something about all that off-shore oil drilling stuff.

  Victor was so sure Layla had been talking to Phillip.

  But what if she’d been talking to Jennifer?

  “Trouble,” she said, not feeling silly at all for talking to him. “See if this makes sense.” Abby’s head felt as if it were twirling.

  “Okay, here goes. Jennifer and Miguel were having an affair. He stole her ring and earring. And he was using them against her as a kind of blackmail. Since Layla and Miguel were working together on that law review article, Jennifer thought Layla would have access to his stuff, and she asked Layla to get the jewelry back.”

  Abby paused, scrunching up her forehead. She thought about the wariness between Layla and Jennifer. They weren’t great friends, but they were allies of some kind.

  She thought about that weird scene between Miguel and Layla the night Layla disappeared. There’d been a lot of sexual tension between the two of them, enough that it’d made Abby uncomfortable.

  What if Miguel and Layla had also been having an affair? That might even explain why Miguel was so sur
e he could get away with stealing Layla’s article. As vain as he was, he probably figured he could seduce her into silence.

  It wouldn’t be unusual for a student and a professor to hook up and certainly Miguel was handsome and charming. The man was well aware of his sexual appeal to women. That had been obvious back when Abby was his student. She’d seen him act seductive with students and faculty members alike. As smart as Layla was, she was still a young woman, very young really. She might not have been able to resist Miguel’s allure and his looks. Abby wouldn’t have been able to had he ever tried to seduce her when she was as young as Layla.

  Abby remembered Phillip had told her Layla’s father had spurned her as defective because of the diabetes. Such a rejection could make Layla eager for a man’s attention, especially a somewhat older and successful man like Miguel.

  And Jennifer might have been more vulnerable to Miguel’s obvious charms given her age. She had grown sons, and no matter how beautiful she was, she had to be keenly aware she was an older woman in a culture that favored the young. Having a desirable man like Miguel, with his striking looks, fall for her could have assured Jennifer she was still attractive. It also could have trapped Jennifer into a sordid mess.

  But that still didn’t explain why Miguel was blackmailing Jennifer.

  Still thinking, Abby heard the sound of the elevator coming down into the basement. She stared at the elevator doors, waiting for them to open. As she did, her eyes dropped to the umbrella stand by the elevator.

  Like a scene from a movie, Abby saw Layla heading to the bathroom and tossing something in the umbrella stand. Abby had assumed at the time it was just some of Layla’s endless supply of chewing gum. She’d even joked with herself that at least Layla hadn’t tossed the gum into a potted plant.

  But what if it wasn’t her gum?

  Abby jumped up and ran toward the umbrella stand, but she heard the elevator jerk to a noisy stop. Students took the stairs, professors took the elevator—it was a strange unwritten rule. Suddenly afraid that Miguel would step from the elevator doors and kidnap her, Abby scurried behind a bookshelf, out of sight.

  At least she hoped she was out of sight as the elevator doors ground open.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Victor inhaled, furious with himself. Trust. He had to have trust. In Abby and in his own instincts.

  After all, she had trusted him and accepted his story about the nude photos on Facebook.

  But then what had he just thought of her? When she’d explained the trick of a woman buying the same cologne for her lover and her husband so neither would detect the scent of the other, he had jumped to the conclusion Abby had used that deception herself.

  What a mess between them. It was his fault and he had to fix it. He was in love with Abby, and there was no point denying it. She was the woman he wanted to marry. But first he had to work on himself, maybe get some kind of counseling, so he’d stop projecting his ex-wife’s infidelities on other women.

  Suddenly Victor realized that it wasn’t just Abby he’d done that to. When he’d seen that photo of Layla and Phillip, he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion and accused Layla of sleeping with a married man, and one who was her boss. When he’d accused her of that and tried to talk her out of it, she’d become angry with him. He’d tried to convince her that, even aside from the adultery, she would ruin her career if word went out that she was the kind of woman who slept with her boss as a way of promoting her career.

  That had made Layla furious with him, and she’d slammed the door on the way out of his house.

  And that’s where they were—estranged and angry with each other—when someone tried to burn Layla’s apartment and she’d gone to stay with Abby.

  He had to face it. His suspicions had potentially ruined a valued friendship and maybe torpedoed a developing love relationship. Yep, he needed therapy. But not right now. No, now was the time for doing something.

  He had to find Abby. And they had to confront Miguel and force him to tell them where he had stashed Layla.

  Victor stood in the hallway, looking left and right, wondering where Abby might have gone. At once he knew. The library. She’d been a librarian after all, and no doubt she would find solace in the stacks. As he hurried down to the next floor level, classes let out and the corridors crowded with students.

  Victor glanced back down the hallway and spotted Delphine and Emmett rushing toward him. He paused to greet them, but they had their heads together and didn’t even see him as they hurried past. Delphine was dressed in a red tailor-made suit that fit her curves. Emmett wore a suit, the classic law student gray with white shirt and maroon tie. Victor wondered why he appeared dressed for court while at school, but he didn’t wonder why Emmett was at the law school. He was, after all, a third-year student. But Delphine’s presence raised a red flag.

  Victor huddled in behind them in the milling crowd of students, ducking his head a bit to hide his face, as he struggled to hear them.

  “You were brilliant.” Emmett spoke with enthusiasm, his voice carrying. “You handled that hearing so smoothly the judge had to rule your way.”

  What a brown-nosing toad. Victor wondered if Delphine would fall for the praise.

  Delphine said something he couldn’t hear over the jostling and buzz of the hallway, but her expression was carefully neutral.

  “Well, maybe so, but Phillip is out of jail now. Thank you for letting me assist you. It’s good for me to learn from such a masterful mentor.” Emmett pressed in close to Delphine. “And thank you for letting me help you here today.”

  Once more Victor couldn’t hear Delphine’s reply and stepped up closer behind them. If they turned around, all he had to say was “Hello” and act as if he’d been hurrying behind them to speak with them.

  Delphine stopped in front of the elevator and hit the down button. “All right. But we better find that file you say Layla took.”

  “She must have hidden it in the law library.” Emmett pounded on the elevator down button with some force.

  Victor stopped in his tracks.

  Why would Layla have taken Delphine’s file? And why would Emmett say it “must” be in the library basement unless he’d already searched Abby’s house and Layla’s apartment?

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Abby huddled behind the bookshelf with Trouble crouched at her feet, ready to leap out to defend her. After the elevator door opened, Delphine and Emmett stepped out. Abby exhaled with relief, only then aware she’d been holding her breath.

  She started to step out from behind the books, but Emmett’s voice stopped her.

  “Well, I know you think the world of Abby and she was certainly distracted, but that trial brief she and Layla were preparing for you was not up to par. If I hadn’t put in all those extra hours on it, you wouldn’t have won that motion.” Emmett all but preened as he finished speaking. “Of course, Layla was sabotaging the brief too, so maybe that excuses some of Abby’s poor work.”

  Abby stifled the urge to rush out and defend herself and Layla. Instead, she waited to see if Delphine would speak up for her.

  Delphine cut her eyes at Emmett for a half second before she strode into the basement of the library like a woman on a mission, with Emmett scurrying behind her to catch up. Over her shoulder, Delphine snapped out, “We better find that file you say Layla took. I’ll start in the back of the stacks, you start here.”

  What file? Abby eased out closer to watch Emmett. Trouble rubbed against her leg, staying both close and quiet.

  Emmett looked around, but he didn’t spot Abby behind the stacks. He pulled a folded manila legal-sized envelope from his jacket and smoothed out the fold. Once more he glanced around. Then he tucked the file between two books on a shelf right in front of him and hurried off in the same direction Delphine had gone.

  Abby waited until he was out of sight before she rushed over to the envelope and yanked it out from between the books. If there was anything inside that would help h
er find Layla, and Emmett had been hiding it, so help her, she was going to slash his tires, paint his windshield black, and petition the dean to expel him.

  Once she had the envelope in hand, she rushed to the umbrella stand and looked down. She wanted to find whatever it was Layla had dropped there right before she disappeared. Random pieces of trash and dust were collected in the container, but no umbrella. Abby stuck her hand inside and felt around, hoping she didn’t touch anything too gross. In short order, she found candy wrappers, a cigarette butt, scraps of paper and gum. Lots of gum. Abby was disgusted and started to pull her hands out. But as she did, her fingers found what she was looking for—yet another flash drive. Unlike Layla’s trademark bright pink flash drives, this one was standard issue black.

  While Abby doubted this was Layla’s, nonetheless, she grabbed the flash drive and ran for the book stacks. There wasn’t anything she could do about reading the flash drive right at the moment, but she could damn sure see what was in the envelope Emmett had hidden.

  Beside her, Trouble meowed and jumped up on a shelf until he was level with Abby’s hands as she tore open the envelope. He wanted to see too. Abby smiled at Trouble but didn’t speak for fear of alerting Emmett.

  She pulled out a set of documents pertaining to a will—affidavits and notarized codicils and such. Then, to her surprise, she found an original will. It was yellowed a bit but looked intact. She inhaled so sharply that Trouble rubbed against her and uttered a very soft meow of apparent concern.

  These were materials—vital documents—from Delphine’s upcoming contested will trial that Abby had been working on when all of the troubles started. Delphine would need these original documents to win her case once the trial actually began. It was fundamental in a contested case that the party relying on the will actually had to produce the original will. So losing the will was the same as losing the case.

  Why on earth did Emmett have that original will and other documents?