Page 62 of Dangerous Lover

That was rich, coming from Jenna, who barely made it to the end of the month on her salary. “The Carlton costs $290 a night and the Victoria costs $370. Why doyouthink he wanted a room?”

“I have no idea.” Jenna shook her head, puzzled. “Unless he wanted to move in with you.”

Caroline made an exasperated sound, picking up florets of stir-fried broccoli. “We’d never met before. How on earth could he want to move in with me if he didn’t know me?”

“I have no idea. It just sounds weird to me, wanting to rent a room when he could go to a comfortable hotel. No offense, Caroline, but beautiful as Greenbriar is, it’s no match for the service and comfort at the Carlton. Or the luxuries at the Victoria.”

Was Jenna being deliberately obtuse? “How could he afford to stay at the Carlton? Do you know what it would cost? Almost nine thousand dollars a month. And he’s a former soldier. How could he afford that?”

“Jesus,” Jenna whispered, wide-eyed. “You don’t know. You really don’t know.”

“Know what?” Jenna didn’t answer. “Jenna, you’re scaring me. Know what? What should I know?”

“I—I can’t talk.”

Caroline was getting scared. Jenna was looking stricken, as if she had knowledge that Jack Prescott was really Jack the Ripper, but had taken an oath not to reveal it. “Jenna—you’ve got to talk. What’s wrong with him? What’s wrong with Jack? He’s living in my home, Jenna. I have to know if there’s something wrong.”

Jenna stared for a moment, face somber. Finally, she gave a little nod, as if coming to a secret decision. “Okay.” She swallowed and lay a hand over Caroline’s. “Okay, I’ll tell you, but you have to keep it a secret.” Her hand tightened. “You have to promise me.”

Wide-eyed, throat tight, Caroline nodded.

Jenna was leaning forward, watching Caroline’s eyes, looking so troubled that Caroline felt her heart clench.

“I’d lose my job if you let slip to anyone that I told you. It’s against every rule in the book, talking to you about a client. Are we clear on that?” Caroline nodded. “Okay—here it is. I have no idea why Jack Prescott wants to rent a room from you, if he’s never met you before. And if you think he’s just a simple soldier, think again. He doesn’t need to rent a room with you. He could buy Greenbriar and never feel the pinch.” She put her hand over Caroline’s. “He came in this morning, opened an account and rented a safe deposit box.” She stopped.

“And?” Caroline prodded. “That’s not a crime. He wants tosettle down here, he’s going to be needing a bank account.”

“Yes, he sure will. Honey…” Jenna said softly, a small frown between her black eyebrows, “he deposited over fifteen million dollars in my bank today.”

Chapter Thirteen

Deaver parked about a mile away and walked to Caroline Lake’s home. He’d studied the satellite photos and maps carefully, and made his way mainly through back streets and service alleys.

He needn’t have bothered, really. The weather was so bad there wasn’t anyone around. Those who worked had already left and the others were at home, sheltered from the icy sleet. It was a residential neighborhood and under normal circumstances at any given moment you could count on someone walking the dog or going for a jog, but not in this weather.

It made his job easy. So easy, he was even able to go in through the front door, walking up the driveway someone had cleared, so he wouldn’t leave footprints.

The front door lock was a joke and once he got through it, he could understand why. Though the house was big, there was very little furniture, no artwork on the walls, no fancy home entertainment systems or stereos, very little silver andno expensive knickknacks. Basically, there wasn’t anything to steal.

Except, of course, for twenty million dollars in diamonds.

Deaver went through the house carefully, room by room, making sure he put everything back the way it was. It went fast because the rooms were fairly empty. He saw no sign that anyone other than a woman lived there until he hit the upstairs master bedroom.

There was a big black duffel bag and a suitcase on the bedroom floor with men’s clothes, size huge. Bingo. So Jack had made it to the pretty lady and had got into her pants pronto.

Good going, ace,he thought. You’ve just made my job easier. Get the woman, get a gun to her head and Jack was going to sing. Oh, yes.

Deaver went through Jack’s bag very thoroughly. No weapons and no diamonds. That meant that Prescott was carrying and he’d hidden the diamonds somewhere.

Deaver stood, blood pounding in his ears, fists clenched. He was so close, so goddamnedclose!He banged his fist on the dresser, then ran his hand over his short-cropped hair.

He had ten thousand dollars left and if he didn’t get his diamonds back, how the fuck was he supposed to live?

It was entirely possible that Jack had hidden the diamonds somewhere in the house, but Jack was a thorough man. If he’d hidden them somewhere here, Deaver would have to tear the house apart. It would take time and Prescott might come in while he was searching. And in any case, Prescott would know someone was after him.

Deaver thought it through. Would Prescott leave a fuckingfortune in diamonds in this woman’s house? Yeah, so sure, he was banging her, but he hadn’t seen her in years. How could he know she wouldn’t make off with them? And how could he know the house well enough to find a good place to stash them?

No, it wouldn’t make sense for him to keep them here. So he’d stashed them somewhere else, somewhere only he could have access to, like a safe deposit box in a bank or a warehouse rental unit.

---