“I don’t have any answers for you, son.”
Wolfe bristled at the condescending term. “Well, if you talk to her, let her know we miss her. I’m working under Professor Easton now, and just between you and me, I’m afraid to pick up a pencil, if you know what I mean.” Wolfe’s chuckle sounded forced. A bead of sweat was at his hairline, though the room was cool. He stood up suddenly. “Mind if I open a window?”
“Not at all.”
As Wolfe tugged at the small pane, Morris couldn’t help noticing the bulge of the younger man’s biceps below the short sleeves of his T-shirt. The last time he’d been that lean, Morris was sixteen and playing high school football. A moment later a blast of cool air filled the room.
Wolfe sat back down, his face a little brighter than before. His lips turned up in an arrogant smile. “So, Morris, if there’s no news, what is it you want to discuss?”
“How long have you been working with Sheila? A year?”
Wolfe’s expression was cool. “Just about. She was my mentor. I’m really disappointed she left because this is my last year. I would have loved to finish under her.”
And over her, and from behind, and any other position you get her into, blowhard.
“She’s the best professor at this school,” Wolfe continued. “Hands down. Her lectures were incredible, as I’m sure you know.” He sipped his coffee again, no longer rattled.
“I wouldn’t know, actually.”
“You’ve never heard her lecture?”
“Never had the privilege.”
“Wow.” Wolfe leaned back in his chair, smug. “I’d have thought being engaged and all, you’d have taken an interest in her work. She was the most dynamic-”
A knock at the door interrupted Wolfe midsentence. Morris realized he was breathing hard and forced himself to calm down. Turning his head, he saw Dolores in the doorway.
“Hi again, Morris.”
She gave him a warm smile and he forced himself to smile back. The woman had no idea she’d just saved Wolfe from getting his face smashed into the desk.
“What’s up, Dolores?” Wolfe sounded breezy.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you gentlemen, but, Ethan, Danny Ambrose is here. He’s really upset. He said Dr. Tao told him he was getting a B, but you entered a C into the system and now he’s having problems with his scholarship. Can I steal you for a quick sec?”
“This might take a few minutes,” Wolfe said, standing. He seemed amused for no reason Morris could see.
“I’ll wait,” Morris said.
Alone, he looked around at the dismal office, much smaller than Sheila’s and lacking personality. He poked hard at the Seahawks bobblehead to make it nod faster and contemplated how he was going to ask Wolfe about the affair. Should he come straight out with it? Or dance around it and try to make the kid squirm?
The bobblehead’s abnormally large cranium fell off its skinny body with a clatter and rolled around on the desk a few times. Morris made a grab for it before it could fall over the edge and hit the floor.
Shit, it was broken. Holding the plastic head in his hand, he allowed himself a smirk at the sight of the headless body. It was a nice parallel for what he felt like doing to Ethan Wolfe.
Fumbling with large fingers, he worked at reattaching the head. As he fiddled with the springs, something small and shiny rolled away from the base. Morris picked it up, assuming it was another broken part. But it wasn’t, not even close.
He knew exactly what this was, because it belonged to him.
Stunned, he traced the engraved initials on the platinum face. MG.
It was the missing cuff link he’d been looking for. What the hell was Wolfe doing with it? Morris’s mind raced.
Had Sheila given it to her boy toy? No, that made no sense. What would have been the point of giving Wolfe just one cuff link? Besides, they were personalized with Morris’s initials.
Had he left it at Sheila’s house and Wolfe had swiped it from there? No, impossible. Morris had never worn the cuff links to Sheila’s house.
Wolfe would be back any minute. Slipping the cuff link into his pocket, Morris made his way out of the office.
Six minutes later he was in his Cadillac. He closed and locked the car doors. In the privacy of the vehicle, he pulled out the cuff link and stared at it in disbelief.
What the hell did it mean? Think, damn it.
The last time he’d worn these cuff links was when he was working on the Okinawa deal. He’d had an early- morning breakfast meeting with two of the investors and had worn his charcoal suit with his favorite cerulean blue tie. Then he’d had a conference call with another investor in Japan. Afterward, if he wasn’t mistaken, he’d met with Randall’s friend Tom Young for a preliminary interview. They’d gone out to dinner later that evening.
Christ. Tom Young. The pieces fell into place.
He knew he’d remembered Ethan Wolfe from somewhere. The desire to leave the door open at the interview, the posture, the cocky grin…
Tom Young was Ethan Wolfe.
The hair was different, the skin lighter, but the voice, the mannerisms… Morris would bet his life on it.
He grabbed his phone. Jerry answered on the first ring.
Morris didn’t bother with pleasantries. “We got a problem.”
CHAPTER 33
“I t was a bonehead thing to do,” Jerry said for the fourth time. “You’re getting way too involved in this. You shouldn’t have even talked to him.”
“You lectured me yesterday.”
“You’re quite possibly the most thickheaded person I’ve ever known. And that’s saying a lot ’cause I know a lot of people. The idea was for him not to know we’re watching him.” Jerry’s expression was pained. “When he can’t find the cuff link, he’ll know you took it.”
“Nah, he’ll probably think he lost it. Happens to me all the time.”
“Because you’re old.”
“So are you,” Morris finally snapped. “Quit busting my balls, it’s done now. What I want to know is, why get into disguise and pretend to interview for a job? What the hell’s the point?”
“Scoping you out, probably. Ballsy, but he’s good at it, too. You wouldn’t have put it together if it weren’t for the claustrophobia thing. Jesus, he took the cuff link right off your wrist.” Jerry whistled. “And brought it to the office like it’s some kind of trophy.”
“What does it all mean?”
“We might never know, but I do know you shouldn’t have talked to him. You should have kept your distance.”
Morris kept his eyes on the building in front of them. They’d been sitting outside Ethan Wolfe’s apartment for the past four hours and both men were getting irritable. Morris was starting to wonder why he’d insisted on tagging along. He should have been at work. So far Wolfe hadn’t gone anywhere interesting-besides the university for a few hours-but, according to Jerry, that was the way it went sometimes.
Morris felt nauseated in Jerry’s tiny car. He stretched his legs out as far as they could go, longing for the roominess of his Cadillac, and complained again that his head was actually touching the roof of the Honda.
“Oh, let it go already.” Jerry’s voice was gruff. “I get it, the car’s small. But might I remind you I normally do this alone? You invited yourself.”
Morris stifled a chuckle. He enjoyed getting a rise out of the private investigator. It provided some comic relief to what had so far been a dull day.
The background check Jerry ordered had turned up some interesting information about Ethan Wolfe. He was
