Contract Bride. Debra Webb

be a wise investment,” Crane advised. “However, you have to consider that many times rumors are started to make a business look attractive when it really isn’t,” he said, his tone direct. “If Camden actually were on the precipice of something that big, I doubt there would be any rumors. There would be tight control. Very tight control,” he emphasized. “You might want to reevaluate your sources.”

      “I hadn’t thought of that,” Ethan lied. “I suppose if Camden is having financial woes, this sort of rumor could definitely be to their benefit.”

      “Absolutely.”

      Ethan stood. Crane did the same. Oddly he offered no objection to Ethan’s leaving, nor did he bring up dinner again.

      “Thanks for your input.” Ethan extended his hand once more. “Maybe I can do the same for you sometime.”

      Crane shook his hand. “The Colby Agency already takes very good care of us, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

      Ethan hesitated before he turned to leave. “By the way, Victoria asked me to inquire about Mr. Ballard’s health.”

      Crane’s expression grew somber. “Not well, I’m afraid. He’s rarely lucid these days.”

      “I’m sorry to hear that,” Ethan said. “And his daughter, Jennifer, how is she, under the circumstances?”

      “She’s holding up as well as can be expected,” Crane responded without hesitation.

      “Perhaps I should stop in, offer the agency’s support.”

      “She’s in Boston on business,” Crane said quickly, too quickly. “I’ll tell her that Mrs. Colby asked.”

      Ethan nodded. “You do that.”

      Ethan left the office. He took his time strolling to the elevator. Though he still wasn’t sure Crane was hiding anything earth-shaking and certainly didn’t believe him to be the monster Jennifer Ballard had drawn, Ethan had the distinct impression that he was being watched as he made his exit.

      DAVID CRANE stood silently at his desk for several moments after Delaney left. David watched him leave the building on the private monitor that was usually disguised as a rather expensive oil painting. He had a very bad feeling about his old friend’s visit. David clenched his jaw to hold back the fury whipping through him.

      Someone knew. But no one—absolutely no one—was supposed to know. Only one of two people could have set this afternoon’s events into motion. Kessler possibly, but David doubted it, though he would certainly have one of his men look into that prospect. Kessler hadn’t opened his mouth in all this time, why would he do so now? He knew the consequences if he did. Kessler enjoyed his family…enjoyed life. He knew enough about this business to know that running his mouth off would get him killed. David would have killed him months ago, but that would only have aroused suspicions.

      Kessler knew better than to talk. And if it wasn’t Kessler, then it could only be one other person.

      But she was supposed to be dead.

      David pressed the intercom button for his chief of security. “I want Ethan Delaney followed. I want to know where he goes and with whom he speaks.”

      “Yes, sir, Dr. Crane.”

      David sank back into his chair, a muscle flexing rhythmically in his tense jaw. Delaney couldn’t know anything…not really.

      Because she was dead.

      He was sure of it.

      He’d ordered the contract personally.