Chapter Nineteen

Jack Angelhart

Logan Monroe let Jack drive his Tesla to his house. Margo followed in Jack's truck. Logan had grown contemplative during the drive, repeating himself several times as if trying to keep clear what had happened that night. Jack let him work through it, knowing how he'd feel if he were in the same situation. Embarrassed, angry, confused.

Jack pulled into Logan's circular driveway in the gated Troon North area in the mountains above Scottsdale. "If you want to press charges," he said. "I witnessed the woman pour something into your drink. The bar has security footage, and the bouncer will save and flag the tapes."

"I don't know. Why would she drug me? Why would she lie about Jennifer?"

Jack didn't think it was wise to explain Margo's theory about his wife hiring someone to seduce him. There was no proof, even if she had good reason to believe it.

"Why did Jennifer ask you to meet with her yesterday?"

Logan didn't answer.

"Yesterday, someone poisoned you and Jennifer at your house. That person must have known that either you or Jennifer was going to be there. Then tonight, a woman drugged your drink at a bar—a woman who said she was there because Jennifer gave her your number. Something isn't adding up. You may be in danger."

"Not me."

What about a woman drugged you did he not understand?

"Jennifer found...some financial irregularities at Desert West. She wanted to show me the problem, walk me through it, see if she missed something."

"You two must be close," Jack said, thinking about the affair his wife suspected.

He didn't answer.

"Logan, I'm trying to help you."

"Jennifer interned for me in college, and then I helped her get a job with the company when she graduated college. I respect her, she's bright and exceptionally good at her job. I had already sold my half of Desert West when she was hired there, but I gave her a recommendation."

"So you're professionally close."

"Until yesterday I hadn't seen her since she first moved to Phoenix. We had coffee a week after she was hired at Desert West." He paused. "On Friday, she reached out to me and asked if I had a place for her to stay for a few days because she thought someone was following her. I offered my house in Paradise Valley."

"For free."

"Like I said, she sounded worried."

"Did she show you the problem she identified?"

"She started talking about numbers that didn't match up and wanted me to look at raw code, but then she said she felt lightheaded, then collapsed. I tried to get her to the couch, but I started feeling woozy as well." He frowned.

"Are you okay?" Jack asked when Logan looked ill.

"I'm fine. Really."

"I'd like to check out your house, if you don't mind." Jack had told him yesterday that he'd been with Phoenix PD and was now a licensed PI, but he didn't know if Logan remembered. "Is your wife home?"

He shook his head. "She had plans."

"Do you know where Jennifer went after the hospital?"

He shook his head. "I offered another place—"

"So you talked to her."

"Last night. She called, said she had to get out of town for a while. I offered her a house or hotel room—I have a suite at my resort I use for clients—but she said someone might be able to find her again. She sounded scared, said that her past was haunting her. She promised to call as soon as she was settled. That's why..." His voice trailed off.

"You thought Rachel was telling the truth."

"Why would she lie?"

Either because Margo was right and Brittney had set him up, or Rachel was hired to drug Logan and find Jennifer's location.

Jack said, "You have my card, call me. I can help both you and Jennifer." Might be a conflict of interest, but he was now concerned about Logan Monroe's safety. The guy didn't act like a multimillionaire. He had no private security, other than a home alarm system; he was known in the business world, but he acted like an ordinary guy. Someone Jack could like.

"Okay," Logan said noncommittally.

"And you might want to tell your wife about what's going on, to make sure she's taking precautions."

"I did."

That surprised Jack, considering what Margo had said. "About yesterday?"

"Yes. She said it was probably a gas leak or a problem with the AC. I sent out an inspector today, should have a report tomorrow. I asked them to copy me in, not just the management company."

Margo was going to flip over that news. Why did Brittney lie to her?

Then, Logan said, "I'm worried about Jennifer. I would reach out to my old partner, but something Jennifer said has me wanting to talk to her first."

Gavin O'Keefe hadn't hired Angelhart, but he owned the company.

If Desert West was up to no good, why would they hire Angelhart to investigate? To cover up a crime? Jack had met personally with Ron Tucker, the CFO, and he didn't get any sign of deception from him.

Jack walked Logan into his house. The door didn't have a key; instead, a code let them in. "Do you mind if I look around?" Jack asked Logan.

"Go ahead." He glanced at his phone. "My wife is on her way home."

Jack sent Margo a text with that information, and then he looked through the house, turning on lights as he went.

The house was spacious—far too big for two people. But who was Jack to judge? His ex-wife would have liked the place—the windows, the view, the space, the expensive furnishings. The house itself was a tasteful blend of contemporary and Southwestern styles, warm, earthy tones with splashes of color. Jack had never cared about things. His parents weren't wealthy, though they did well enough to send five kids to Catholic school. While no one had wanted for anything, they didn't have extras. Jack bought his first car by working weekends and summers as a lifeguard at a country club for two years. Margo bought her first car by working as a caddy at the same place.

The one thing Jack wanted was a little space—a few acres in the hills, a couple of horses and big dogs who needed space to run. He was always looking for the right property, but he couldn't afford most of the ranches he'd seen, and the rare times a fixer-upper popped onto the market, it was gone before he could put in an offer. He'd take a flop if it was in the right area.

Jack cleared the house, then found Logan sitting at the kitchen bar drinking a bottle of water. The man looked uncomfortable, as if he didn't know what to do or say.

"I appreciate you helping me out, Mr. Angelhart," he said.

"Call me Jack." He sat across from Logan, looked him in the eyes. They were focused but bloodshot. "You doing okay?"

"Splitting headache, but I don't have that fuzziness anymore."

"Good."

"Do you need me to call you an Uber?"

"No, thank you, my partner followed in my truck. Logan, I want you to think hard about what's going on with Jennifer. If she's in danger, I can help. Have her call me. A man in your position could be at risk for kidnapping for ransom, extortion, any number of crimes."

"I can't imagine who would do anything like this. To me or Jennifer. She's a good kid. Very smart. If—if I don't hear from her, perhaps I can hire you to find her. I don't know why she would be in danger—her job doesn't entail state secrets or anything like that. But she was scared on the phone, and this thing tonight—what if that woman is looking for her? Lied to me, drugged me, thinking I know where she is?"

"All good questions. Call me, Logan. I want to help."

It would put Jack in an ethical dilemma, since he'd been hired by Desert West, but right now he was more worried about Jennifer White's well-being.

Jack let himself out. Margo was sitting in his truck in the driver's seat. He didn't ask her to move over; instead he opened the passenger door. He told her that Logan had told Brittney everything about yesterday. Margo sat there, quietly angry.

"And she told me yesterday he was going to be at the bar tonight," Margo said. "She set him up."

"So, we're waiting for Brittney, I presume?"

"You know me well."

"Rachel claimed Jennifer gave her Logan's number."

"Then how did Brittney know he would be there yesterday when Rachel didn't call Logan until today? That bitch."

"Rachel?"

"Her, too, but Brittney. I gave her Jennifer's name, said there was nothing romantic between them that I could see. That's when she told me about him coming to the bar tonight. I think she hired Rachel to drug him, so Rachel could make the moves and I could get the pictures."

"You can't prove it."

"She'll tell me," Margo said with complete confidence. "I have no problem going to Logan Monroe and telling him everything if Brittney lied to me or I think she's a threat to Logan."

"I like the guy." Jack said. "He seems genuine."

She shrugged. Margo had always been more cynical than most of the family, but never to the degree she was now. She'd changed three years ago when their dad went to prison. It wasn't just because their dad was in prison, it was because they hadn't fought for him. Just because Cooper Angelhart said to stand down, didn't mean they should stand down, Margo had said. And yet...they had. Because their dad asked.

It broke Margo's heart that the family turned their back on her need for the truth.

"I found no evidence that he's cheating on his wife," Margo said. "I can't figure out why she hired me to prove something that isn't true."

"Maybe she believes it," Jack said, "and doesn't want to accept that you couldn't find anything."

"Why? Really, wouldn't you be relieved to know that your spouse is faithful? Maybe she had bad relationships, maybe someone is pushing at her, urging her on, I don't know. But tonight was a setup, and that was all Brittney."

"We can't discount that Rachel is working for someone who is looking for Jennifer, and tried to get that information out of Monroe. It's definitely a trick Miriam Endicott would pull."

Margo shook her head. "Not Miriam's style. She's sneaky and will lie and her ethics are questionable, but she wouldn't drug the guy."

"Could she be willfully ignorant?"

"Like tell Rachel to get the info any way she can?" Margo nodded, conceding the point.

Jack looked at his phone. "Tess ID'd Rachel Roper."

"Is that a real name?"

"According to Tess, Rachel Roper is a physical therapist by day, an escort by night."

"A prostitute," Margo said flatly.

"Works a girlfriend-experience gig. They're not always prostitutes."

Margo snorted. "So Brittney hired a girlfriend for her husband."

"Or someone looking for Jennifer did."

"Nope, it was Brittney. I'm ninety-five percent certain."

Jack trusted Margo's expertise and instincts. Maybe because she'd spent three years of her six-year stint in the Army as an MP, or maybe because she was just wired that way. Jack had tried to get her to join Phoenix PD when she decided not to reenlist, but she said no, that she had her fill of "following stupid rules." He'd always wanted to know what happened—because something must have turned her off law enforcement—but she rarely talked about her time in the military, and he didn't push.

A car turned up the long driveway and one of the garage doors started to open. Just as the sporty convertible pulled into the garage bay, Margo jumped out without comment.