Page 6 of Seductive Secrets

Angela froze, then turned, her big, brown eyes wide as she frowned up at him. “He sent you a key?” She shook her head briefly. “You didn’t mention a key or a note before.”

“Didn’t I?” he asked. That was a slip, he realized.

“No, you didn’t,” she snapped. “What is the key for? What does it open?” she demanded.

James enjoyed the way the woman pressed her lips together. Oh, she would be delightful to figure out! Such a tempting mystery!

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly. “That’s one of the reasons I called you.”

“And why didn’t you bother to mention the key before now?”

Angela glared up at the jerk. She was fairly bristling with fury at the discovery that he was holding out on her. “Give me the key!” she ordered, even sticking out her hand, palm up.

James laughed…he actually laughed! “Not a chance, Gorgeous!” he replied leaning forward slightly. “Why would I?”

“Because that key might be Hazelton property. As the legal representative of Hazelton, I insist that you give me the key so that I can turn it over to my security team for investigation.”

Thankfully, he didn’t laugh again. She might have had to resort to violence otherwise. She hated violence.

“I’m not going to just hand over the key, Angela. However, if you’d like to accompany me while I find out what happened to my friend, and perhaps even figure out what the key opens, then you’re more than welcome to come along.”

She huffed, still bristling with indignation. “That’s not going to work for me.”

James shrugged and headed for the door. “Suit yourself.” He was just about to leave when a nearby shelf caught his eye. “What the hell?”

“What’s wrong?” Angela asked, moving closer as her anger was overridden by curiosity.

“This!” he replied, picking up a cheap, plastic trophy from the shelf.

“Fingerprints!” she hissed. “You’re leaving fingerprints! If something happened to your friend, then they’ll need to dust for fingerprints and you don’t want yours to be found.”

James lifted the tacky trophy in the air. “This,” he said with a growl, “probably has my fingerprints all over it.”

Angela blinked in confusion. “Why? I thought you hadn’t seen your friend in years?”

James brought it closer to the light to examine it. “Because this is from our college days. We used to hit the bars after soccer or rugby games. After a few drinks, the losing team had to sing a set of songs decided by the winning team. The worst singer on the losing team would get this trophy.” He glared at it, momentarily lost in old memories. “It should have been passed down to the next senior class. It’s a tradition that had been ongoing for decades.”

Angela rolled her eyes, taking the trophy to examine it herself. “Men have the oddest traditions.”

“Hey, we don’t paint our toenails or put mud on our faces.”

She laughed because she had to agree that brightly colored toenails and facial masks were a bit odd, even if they were very relaxing. “Touché,” she chuckled. “So, why would your friend take this along…?” She stopped speaking when she tilted the trophy slightly and heard something rattle. “Wait.” She shook the trophy gently. There was definitely something in there. She glanced quizzically at James. “Did you boys hide something inside this thing?”

“Besides a stash of weed?” he asked with a shrug. “Not that I’m aware of. It was just a plastic trophy that someone had found years before I joined the teams.”

She handed it back with a smirk. “See if you can get into that thing without wrecking it.”

He examined the trophy carefully. He hoped to find a latch of some sort, something that would indicate how to open it. “We’re going to look foolish if we find a tube of lipstick from a woman Mark had made out with a long time ago.”

Angela shrugged. “If that’s all it is, or a bunch of marijuana, then we’ll stuff it back inside and move on.”

“And not take the pot?” he teased.

She shuddered. “No. Who knows how old the marijuana might be?” She cringed and tapped her nail thoughtfully against the plastic bottom. “Open it.”

He lifted an eyebrow at her. “Seriously? Someone, most likely Mark, hid something in an old trophy and you think it’s going to be easy to open?”

She shrugged. “Fine! Use your manly brilliance to open the stupid thing,” she replied, leaning against the wall beside them and tucked her purse under one arm. Then she waited.

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