All It Takes (Romancing Manhattan 2)

“I had no idea you came from so much money.”

“They lost a lot of it in the Depression,” I reply with a shrug. “But the two families were close, and I wonder if Mr. Steve would know anything.”

“Mr. Steve is the driver?”

“Yeah, but he’s old, Dave. His wife, Miss Liz, is a bit younger than him, though, and might remember stories.”

“That’s all hearsay, Sienna. It’s not proof.”

“But if she can give me any information, it might put me in the right direction to find the proof.”

“Do you think she’ll talk to you?”

“I don’t see why not.” I smile and reach for my phone. “I’ll see if I can go see her on my way home from work tonight.”

“Go ahead and leave whenever you want,” Dave says with a resigned sigh. “Your head’s in this today, as it should be.”

“You’re the best.”

“I’m well aware.” He winks and leaves my office, and I immediately call Miss Liz.

“Sienna, you get more beautiful every day,” Miss Liz says as she leads me into her formal living room. She and Mr. Steve live in a beautiful home not far from where I grew up. “Can I get you some tea, dear?”

“No, thank you. I just have a few questions for you, actually.”

“So this isn’t a social call, then.”

I cringe. “I’m sorry, but no.” I explain what happened at the reading of the will, in court today, and why I’m here. “So, you see, I’m hopeful that you might have any memories of conversations or stories about this from Mr. Steve.”

“I’ve already had this conversation, Sienna,” she says, surprising me. She stands, she’s clearly irritated, and I am at a complete loss as to what’s happening. “If you’d told me this over the phone, I would have saved us both some time. I don’t know anything about it, and neither does my husband.”

“Did someone come here to interview you?”

Her brown eyes meet mine now, and they’re not happy. “Yes, and he wanted to talk to Steve, and that’s not going to happen. It’ll just upset him. He’s been distraught since your grandfather’s death.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You can see yourself out, Sienna.”

Liz marches from the room, and I quickly leave the house, hurrying down to my car.

What in the hell? Did Quinn come here and interrogate them? Did he upset them?

Obviously, the answer to both of those questions is yes.

That doesn’t sound like Quinn, but I don’t really know him that well. If it is Quinn, how did he find them so quickly? As I drive toward my house, I dial his number.

“This is Cavanaugh.”

“This is Sienna,” I reply and make a left. “I just left Liz and Steve’s house. Liz wouldn’t even talk to me about the case because she said she already spoke to you about it, and she’s not happy.”

“Whoa, who are Liz and Steve?”

I frown as I pull into my driveway, beside Lou’s car, and cut the engine. “Steve was my grandfather’s driver. His family has worked for mine for over a hundred years. I went to interview his wife, and she said you beat me to it.”

“I have no idea what or who you’re talking about,” he replies, his voice smooth and deep. “I swear to you, I haven’t spoken with them. I didn’t even know they existed.”

“Well, if you didn’t talk to them, who did?”

“Good question.”

I sigh, rubbing my forehead with my fingertips, and Dave’s words repeat in my head.

Maybe it’ll go quicker if you’re working together.

“Quinn, maybe I was hasty to turn you down today, when you suggested we work together.” I swallow hard, the words thick in my mouth.

Eating crow is never delicious or easy.

“Go on.”

I tilt my head back and forth, trying to decide if this is what I really want. Dave’s right, I’m a one-woman army, and Quinn is intelligent.

For reasons I haven’t clearly figured out yet, I trust him.

I hope I don’t regret that.

“It might be worth it if we work on this together,” I continue. “There is a lot of research to do, and at the end of the day, we both want the same thing: the truth.”

“You’re right,” he says. “But I won’t have time unless it’s evenings.”

“I can work with that. Dave, my boss, is giving me a sabbatical until this is resolved, so I’ll be working through the weekends as well as around the clock.”

“Hold on.” I hear pages flipping. “I can make that work. But just to warn you, I usually put in full days on the weekends as well. So it’ll be just evenings for me.”

“I’ll take it.”

“Excellent. We might as well get started tomorrow. You can come to my office at six. I’ll have dinner brought in.”

“No. Manhattan is too far, not to mention, all the paperwork is here in the Bronx. You can come to my house at six tomorrow. Bring dinner.”