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How to Seduce a Cavanaugh
Thinking of that now, Kane regarded the pricey vehicles. “You’d be surprised at what does the trick for some people. To some people, it’s all about the kind of vehicle they drive. The flashier, the better.”
Not him, Kelly thought. Durant wasn’t the type to go for flashy status symbols. She would bet on it.
But someone in his life, past or present, had valued flashy status symbols, she decided. She could tell by the way his tone had changed when he’d mentioned it.
Kelly waited half a beat before falling in step directly behind Kane. She meant for him to go first. To her surprise, he deliberately slowed his pace just enough to allow her to catch up.
She was about to thank him, then decided that Kane probably didn’t want her thanks. The less said on the subject, the better was probably the way he liked it. He was going to cause her to reevaluate her whole approach to partnerships, Kelly mused.
“Is there something I can do for you?” a very tanned, very polished looking man in his midforties asked politely as he walked up to them. His clean cut looks and the touch of silver at his temples, in addition to his manner of carrying himself, all pointed to him as being someone in charge.
And he was.
“Detectives Durant and Cavanaugh,” Kane said, taking out his wallet and holding it steady to allow the man to have a closer look at his identification. Kelly did the same. “We were wondering if you could tell us if one of your members—a Randolph Osborn—was friendlier with any one of your members than he might have been with some of the others.”
“Leon Edwards,” the man introduced himself. “I’m the director here.” He got back to the question that had been put to him. “Friendlier?” Edwards questioned, clearly amused. “You are asking me about Randolph Osborn, correct?”
“We are,” Kane confirmed, clearly waiting for a more precise answer.
The director seemed to gauge his words carefully. Memberships and high revenues in the form of donations were at stake here.
“Mr. Osborn, I’m afraid, wasn’t what you would call friendly with any of the members,” Edwards said stiffly. “He did associate with a few of our members, if that’s what you mean.”
Kelly stepped in, knowing her partner would take that as an affront. Kane, she was beginning to see, didn’t exactly have the gift of diplomacy. He favored the direct approach rather than attempting to sugarcoat his words. The man obviously never had subscribed to the old philosophy of catching more flies with honey than with vinegar.
“Could you give us a list of the members’ names?” Kelly requested.
Edwards looked at her and it was obvious to Kelly that he liked what he saw here better than he did when he was interacting with Kane. But there were still rules he obviously was obligated to follow.
Edwards’s gray eyes shifted from one detective to the other. “Just what’s this all about, detectives?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Osborn were the victims of a home invasion last night,” Kane informed the director matter-of-factly.
The man’s eyes widened from their customary slits. Edwards appeared genuinely surprised. “Was anyone hurt?” he asked.
Kelly could tell that her partner was going to give the director a flat “no” in response. It hurt nothing to give Edwards a crumb, feeding his obvious need to get something exclusive on the man, however minute.
“Only Mr. Osborn’s pride,” Kelly confided, lowering her voice as if she was sharing something that deserved to be labeled a secret.
“Well, I can understand that,” the man replied, bobbing his head up and down. And then, as if his brain was on some sort of ten-second delay, he looked up at the two detectives before him, clearly stunned. “And you two think that someone here is responsible for that home invasion?”
That was stating it too blatantly. Kelly decided to reframe her answer so that it sounded more as if they were working with a turn-of-the-last-century mystery. “We think someone here can possibly give us a clue or some sort of a lead as to who might have wanted to do this to the Osborns.”
“You mean break into their house and steal something from them?” Edwards asked. “I assure you that—”
“No, we mean someone who might have wanted to humiliate Mr. Osborn,” Kelly was quick to correct the director’s misimpression.
She glanced at Kane, then made up her mind that allowing Edwards to learn a little bit of the truth would help them close this case sooner rather than later.
“We believe that whoever did it could have easily gotten in and out with the Osborns sleeping right through the entire ordeal, none the wiser,” Kane said. “The objects of the theft were on the first floor and the Osborns’ bedroom is on the second.
“But they were roused, tied up and made to sit through the robbery. The thief obviously wanted to observe their humiliation firsthand. Would you know of anyone here that Mr. Osborn might have had words with? Or maybe there was someone harboring ill will against him for some reason?” Kane supposed.
“Someone?” Edwards echoed with a smirk he didn’t bother hiding. “Would you like those names alphabetically, chronologically or listed by the size of the offense?” the director asked them.
“That many?” Kane marveled. Even he hadn’t expected this to be turned into a crowd scene, which was the way it was clearly heading.
The director looked to either side of him as if to see if there was anyone within earshot.
Apparently satisfied that he wasn’t going to be overheard, Edwards confided to the pair, “You didn’t get this from me, but that man never met an argument he didn’t like. It is getting to the point that the board is seriously considering asking Mr. Osborn to relinquish his membership if he can’t learn how to get along with the other members.
“It would definitely be a shame to revoke their membership since everyone likes his poor, long-suffering wife.” And then Edwards’s face sobered as he focused on the subject. “But Mr. Osborn is making it very difficult for us to turn a blind eye to his irritating manner. We do have to think of the other members...”
Kane glanced at her and Kelly could see by the look in her partner’s eyes that Kane felt the director had given them way more information than they wanted regarding the man in question.
More is better than less, Kelly had decided a long time ago.
“Absolutely,” Kelly heartily agreed. “Mr. Edwards, we don’t want to make your job any more difficult or challenging than it already must be, but we could really use that list of people that Mr. Osborn has had differences with.” When the director continued to look reluctant to comply, Kelly added, “We could get a warrant making you give us that list, but that would call a great deal of unwanted attention to your club. You don’t need that sort of publicity now, do you?”
“No, of course not,” Edwards answered, his tan growing a few shades lighter right before her eyes. “All right. If you have something to write with, I can give you that list right now.”
“You don’t have to check your records or surveillance tapes?” Kane questioned suspiciously.
In response, the director tapped his temple. “All the records are right here, and I can access them whenever I want. That way there’s no fear of someone hacking into our database and making off with some—shall I say?—less than favorable information.”
“Understood,” Kelly said, humoring the man. Then, just for good measure, she added another layer of sweetener. “This club is certainly lucky to have someone like you running the place.”
The director beamed and wrote faster—just as Kelly suspected he would.
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