Deception (Infidelity #3)(33)

“Where are you?”

I shook my head. If Ralph had called Alton, I’d leave this damn office and head straight for Preston, Madden, and Owen. “I’m in Savannah. Do you need something?”

“Yes, why the hell else would I call?”

I bit my lip. I had so many responses. “What do you need?”

“I’ll be back on Friday night. The damn meetings were supposed to only last until…” I listened as he ranted about something that made no difference to me other than to alert me of his impending return. Once the entire conversation was complete, I deciphered that he’d wanted me to check on the caterers for our annual Labor Day barbeque. When I assured him that it was all taken care of, he went on a rampage about someone leaving a message on his cell.

The damn world didn’t know how important he was—yada yada yada. He couldn’t bother with mundane… blah blah blah. I tuned him out at some point only to come back to the conversation when he said, “…and Brantley said he’d taken you downtown. You don’t usually leave the manor on Wednesdays unless you do that luncheon, but it’s not this week. What are you doing?”

“Dear, we’re having our annual barbeque in a few days. I didn’t think you’d want me wearing some old thing I’d worn to other outings all summer long. It just wouldn’t do.”

“Shopping? You’re shopping?”

“Yes. Is there a problem with that?”

“No. Fuck, I don’t give a shit. Get me something, too.”

“Certainly. We’ll be dressed for the occasion.”

“I need to go. Wait on me for dinner Friday night.”

My teeth ground together, yet my words dripped with sincerity. “Yes, Alton. I’ll see you then.”

The line went dead just as the door opened. It wasn’t Ralph, but some young man, possibly younger than Alexandria.

“Mrs. Fitzgerald,” he said as he placed a box on the table. “Your father had many documents. Mr. Porter asked me to help you find whatever it is you want to find.” He looked at the box, shook his head, and brushed the dust from his hands. “Would you like a cup of coffee or something? We might need it to get through all of this.”

There was something I liked about him. In this world of sharks, he was refreshingly na?ve.

“Do you work here?”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m an intern from Savannah Law.”

Savannah Law—that was where I wanted Alexandria to go. “Really? My daughter’s a first-year law student.”

His eyes widened. “She is? I’m second-year.” He shook his head. “I haven’t met many of the first-years. Maybe she should be here with you?”

“I’d like that very much, but she attends Columbia, in New York.”

He let out a low whistle. “I didn’t even apply there. Wow. You must be proud.”

“I am. Son, what’s your name?”

“Stephen.”

“Stephen, I’d love some coffee.” I took the lid off the box. “We may even need sandwiches before the day is through.” I felt the gleam in my eyes. “You weren’t planning on doing anything else today, were you?”

His smile turned bashful. “Not after Mr. Porter told me to help you.”

I nodded. “Good answer, Stephen. You get the coffee—I’ll take mine with cream—and I’ll start removing the files.”

“Ma’am, they’re kind of old. Some of these haven’t seen the light of day for nearly fifteen years. You might get dusty.”

“My name’s Adelaide, and I’ve been dusty before. Not to worry.”

“Yes, ma’am, I mean Miss Adelaide, I’ll be right back with coffee.”

Some of these?

Stephen’s words hit a cord. “Stephen,” I called, though he’d already stepped away.

A moment later he was back. “Yes, do you want something else?”

“No, I have a question. What did you mean that some of these haven’t seen the light of day in nearly fifteen years? Does that mean that some have?”

“Well, yes. We have a content inventory. Usually we don’t bring all the records at once. Usually particular documents or even sections are requested. It’s all cataloged.”

The box only contained files.

“Where is the catalog?”

“I can access it from the server.”

“On your computer?”

“Yes, ma’am… I mean, Adelaide.”

I waved away his correction. “Stephen, will you please bring us coffee and your laptop. I’d like to see who’s accessed these files, which files they’ve accessed, and when.”

His countenance fell. No doubt he’d been hoping to dismiss me before sandwiches became necessary. “Yes, right away.”

“Oh, and Stephen?”

“Yes?”

“If Mr. Porter doesn’t ask you for particulars, you don’t need to share with him what we discover.”

“If he does?”

I shrugged. “I’m the heir to Montague Corporation. We’re always looking for good men to work and run our legal division. Hiring from local universities is one of my husband’s favorite things.”