Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 138334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 692(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 692(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
They sat together on the bench and watched the sunrise before walking together back to the house. She didn’t walk close to him the way she’d always done. They didn’t laugh together. She didn’t hand him her coffee cup to throw into the trash container on the way; she dumped it herself. It was a small thing, but it was a sign of her declaring her independence. When they got to the house, she walked around to the back and he went up the front steps alone with his heart heavy, Slayer raging at him.
* * *
* * *
GUY Hawkins was in his late sixties with rounded shoulders and a receding hairline. He wore his wealth casually, from his canvas loafers to his sports jacket and faded jeans. Sending his secretary a vague smile as Gedeon and Meiling were ushered into his office, he waved them toward two chairs.
His office was in downtown New Orleans in one of the newer modern buildings. Hawkins was renowned as a composer, a record producer and a music executive with eighteen Grammy awards and nearly fifty more nominations. His net worth was well over a hundred million, but who was counting? Recently he had gotten involved with a young blues group that had taken the world by storm. They were playing at the very popular Blue’s Club, owned by Bijou Boudreaux, in New Orleans.
“Thank you for coming.” He extended his hand, first to Gedeon and then to Meiling. “I received your name, Mr. Volkov, on the highest recommendation from my friend, Carmine Brambilla. He told me you were discreet and able to get the job done very fast.” He glanced at Meiling. “He said you worked alone.”
“He was wrong.” Gedeon didn’t give Meiling’s name.
“I see.” Hawkins frowned and walked around his desk to stand behind it. He dropped into his chair and studied Gedeon’s stony features.
“I understand completely if you wish to call the meeting off and find someone else. We can leave.” Gedeon sounded bored and did his obligatory half rising.
A man with the kind of money Hawkins had would surely investigate Gedeon before he hired him. By now, it was known Gedeon had a partner. She wasn’t as well-known and there were no pictures of her in the media, but Hawkins would have heard of her. Sometimes Gedeon was so sick of the dance, he really did want to leave. Slayer, normally quiet when Meiling was close, refused to settle, raking and carrying on as if he would split Gedeon open and crawl out to destroy their client.
“No, no. If you trust her, then of course it’s fine. It’s just that this is a very sensitive matter and must be kept very quiet.”
Gedeon stared at him, knowing Slayer was watching him closely through Gedeon’s eyes. He had no idea why he felt such animosity toward the man, but he did.
“How can we help you, Mr. Hawkins?” Meiling asked. Her voice was like a soft breeze blowing through the office, sending a calming effect through the red haze in Gedeon’s mind.
Hawkins jumped up from his chair, paced behind the desk, turned back to them and gripped the back of his chair so hard his knuckles turned white. “My wife, Laverne, is thirty-seven years younger than me. Everyone assumed she was a gold digger and married me for my money. That wasn’t the case. Laverne and I fell in love. It was that simple. I didn’t think I had a chance with her, but she was genuine and sweet and liked all the same things I did.”
He stopped speaking and stood quietly staring down at his desk before picking up the only framed photograph on it. He held it up to show them. His wife was beautiful. The same height as him in her heels, she looked regal with her reddish-blond hair piled high on her head with tendrils artfully falling around her face.
Gedeon recognized her immediately. Laverne Sanders had been a singer and theater actress before she met Hawkins. A gorgeous woman, and they appeared happy together everywhere they went. She often starred in theater performances and was reputed to be quite good. Gedeon had never seen her, but when he’d been briefed on Hawkins, Rene had included the reviews of Laverne’s work.
His leopard slammed against his ribs, battering at him to get free. Slayer raged, rending and tearing in an effort to break free and get at Hawkins. Clearly he despised the man with a passion. Gedeon found he felt the same way. So far he had no sympathy for their client. He stared at his mouth and perfect white teeth, wondering how much it had cost him to get those teeth. Why did it feel to him as if the office was staged? As if the desk had been arranged the way it might in a theater to appear a certain way—everything on it a prop for Hawkins to use.