Page 55 of Stuart Woods' Smolder

Two months ago, she’d come to him with a theory about several recent insurance claims for high-end art that had been destroyed in various incidents. She believed they weren’t destroyed at all, but had been stolen by the same group of people. The little evidence she had was circumstantial at best, but she’d been convinced she was right. Which, of course, she was.

His first instinct had been to shut her down completely, but he worried that doing so would only strengthen her suspicions. So, instead, he’d given her a little rope, in the hope she’d hit a dead end and lose interest.

What he hadn’t counted on was Monica’s tenacity. Though unaware of it, she’d come close to foiling jobs more than once. Dalton had been forced to take a more active role in deflectingher interests, even going so far as to plant false evidence that should have derailed her investigation.

But she just kept pushing and pushing. Two weeks ago, she’d told him she’d been contacted by someone claiming to have firsthand knowledge of the thefts. He’d pressed her for the person’s name, but she said all contact was via a generic e-mail account, so she didn’t know. As proof of the source’s credibility, the e-mailer had provided several bits of info that aligned with Monica’s theories, so Monica was sure the person was on the up-and-up.

That was troubling enough, but when she asked for funds to cover a trip to Santa Fe to meet her source in person, the alarm bells in Dalton’s head really started clanging. Simon had a gallery in Santa Fe. Though Monica hadn’t mentioned the art dealer’s name, Dalton couldn’t take the chance that her source wasn’t connected in some way.

Dalton’s first act was to inform Simon of a possible leak within his organization. He said an anonymous tip had come into Vitale Insurance about the thefts, which was true, and warned Simon it must have been someone in his inner circle. He purposely didn’t mention Monica’s involvement. He didn’t want to give Simon reason to think that he couldn’t control his own staff and therefore was a liability.

Dalton ultimately altered reports that Monica had filed on several past cases, intentionally introducing errors, then used them as reasons to terminate her. He’d assumed that had stopped her meddling, but given that she was here in Santa Fe, he was clearly wrong.

Whether he should have told Simon about Monica when she’d first started sniffing around the thefts or not, he had noidea. What hedidknow was that if he told him now, Dalton could kiss away any chances of getting a bigger piece of the pie.

He wasn’t about to let that happen, which meant he would have to deal with Monica himself. Exactly how he’d have to figure out. But right now, it was time to see Simon to change their arrangement.

—

Dalton straightened his tie, cleared his throat, and rang the doorbell of Simon’s townhouse. Moments later, the door was opened by a huge man with a hard face and a shaved head.

“Yeah?”

“I’m looking for Simon Duchamp.”

“So?”

“Is he home?”

“Who are you?”

“A friend.”

“I know all his friends. You ain’t one of them.”

“We work together.”

“Listen, bud. You either give me a name or I shut this door in your face.”

“Dalton. Dalton Conroy.”

“Wait here.”

The door slammed closed. A minute went by, then two. Dalton was beginning to wonder if he should ring the doorbell again when the door opened. This time, instead of the brute, Simon stood in front of him.

“What are you doing here, Dalton?”

“Bringing you the information you asked for.”

Simon considered him for several seconds, then frowned and said, “Come in.”

He led Dalton into a spacious living room and motioned him to sit.

“Something to drink?”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you mind if I have something?”

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