Alpha Billionaire’s Bride, Part Four (BWWM Romance Serial) Read online

  He wasn’t positive how to handle this novel situation. Did he argue? Let her have her way? Try to reach a compromise?

  The bottom line was, could he turn over the reins of this investigation to Jada like she wanted? He was no follower. He was the commander, in the past, now and forever. Might as well try to break the habit of breathing as try to stop leading.

  A thought tapped for attention at the back of his brain. Jada said she had her own suspects her own ideas about who was behind the fake marriage licenses. This meant she wasn’t totally on board with Ian’s own conviction that everything had been orchestrated by CGTV.

  Since that was the case, it wouldn’t be hard to step back and let Jada follow the trail of evidence all the way to its end, where she would discover that she was wrong and Ian had been right all along.

  He turned the idea over in his head, checking all sides to make sure everything lined up. Yes, he could hang back and let her take the lead as long as he knew exactly where they’d end up. And he believed he definitely knew that.

  He smiled and stood. “I accept your conditions. So what’s the plan?”

  She returned his smile and maybe it was wishful thinking, but Ian thought he saw a glimmer of relief pass over her features, which could only mean she didn’t truly want to leave him.

  “I need to get to Springers Glen as soon as possible to question the clerks in the courthouse records department. I think I’ll get better results if I speak to them in person,” Jada said.

  “Good idea. Car or helicopter?”

  Jada looked thoughtful. “How long will it take the helicopter to get here?”

  The game was afoot.

  Chapter Two

  JADA AND IAN MOVED OUT of the bright sunshine and into the dark interior of the historic Springers Glen Courthouse. Ancient, scuffed wood floors creaked under their heels as they walked down the narrow hallway. It smelled like industrial cleaner and citrus bug spray, underscored with the hint of mildew often present in old buildings.

  Jada knew she looked a fool in her disguise. Agatha had loaned her a giant floppy hat, Sasha had let her borrow some oversized butterfly sunglasses, and Marina had added a scarf around the top of the hat, tying it under Jada’s chin supposedly to add a classy Dorothy Dandridge touch. Ha. More like Laura Ingalls Wilder, Jada thought.

  She reached up to remove the giant sunglasses.

  “No,” Ian said, touching her arm, “leave them on. Best to stay covered until we’re there.”

  She pushed the glasses back up her nose. “But they’re so dark, I can’t see.”

  “Hang onto my arm and I’ll guide you.”

  “I don’t know. You’re wearing sunglasses, too. It’s the blind leading the blind, isn’t it?”

  He chuckled softly. “So we bounce off a few walls. No big thing. Point me in the direction of the records office and I’ll try not to get us killed on the way.”

  “Up ahead on the left, down the stairs. It’s in the basement.”

  “Why are records departments always in the basement?” Ian asked.

  “No idea. In case there’s a tornado so all the paperwork won’t blow away?”

  “Maybe. But if there’s a flood, it’ll all get wet.”

  “From the smell, I’d say a hundred floods have already come and gone,” Jada said.

  They decided it was best to risk discovery and lift their sunglasses up so they could safely navigate the stairs. They survived the journey without mishap and saw no one on the way.

  “What does this woman look like?” Ian asked. “The D.A. who’s meeting us?”

  “Late twenties, taller than me. Pretty.”

  “I think I see her but it’s hard to be sure.”

  “I see a shadowy outline. Could be her,” Jada said, squinting through the dark lenses.

  They found their way down the hall and stopped in front of who Jada could now see was, indeed, the district attorney, Ophelia Wyatt. She was dressed in a tailored, navy power suit that complimented her mocha skin tone. Beside her, a handwritten sign hung on the shuttered window to the records department which said the office was closed.

  Jada introduced Ophelia to Ian and they shook hands.

  “Thank you for calling me in on this, Jada,” Ophelia said. “It’s been quite the enlightening morning.”

  “I knew you’d be the person for the job,” Jada said.

  Ophelia ushered them down the hall and into a small conference room, closing the door behind them.

  Jada pulled off her disguise and looked around. They were in a nondescript, beige, windowless room with a single table, six chairs and little else. Fluorescent lights buzzed in the low ceiling. The most she could say for the place was that it had been recently painted. It was a snug, claustrophobic space and Jada was glad she wouldn’t be in it for long.

  Two women sat on the far side of the table. Jada recognized one, but not the other.

  Jada, Ian and Ophelia sat down.

  “These are both of the clerks who currently work in the records department. This,” Ophelia gestured to the woman Jada didn’t recognize, “is Violet Crow. She normally works in the county clerk’s office, but she’s been filling in today for Sylvia Watson, who’s currently away on leave as I told you when you called.”

  Jada and Ian greeted the middle-aged woman, who returned the greetings along with a nervous smile.

  Ophelia turned to the elderly lady wearing a floral print housedress, her snow white hair twisted into a tight bun at the back of her petite head. “And this is Nell Wyatt, a part-time employee in records, and she’s also my grandmother. I assume Jada has told you that, Ian?”

  He nodded.

  Jada recalled his reaction when she told him that a Springers Glen city councilman, Frank Wyatt, was Nell Wyatt’s son and Ophelia’s father. This was undoubtedly how the elderly clerk had kept her job at the courthouse a couple of decades beyond the time when others had been forced to retire. Ian laughed and said he was glad to see nepotism was as alive and well in small town government as it was in city government.

  Jada smiled at the elderly lady, who smiled back.

  “You’re Kenya and Montpelier’s girl. How’s your folks?” she asked Jada.

  “They’re fine, thank you. On the road still. I haven’t seen you in ages, Mrs. Nell.”

  “No, you young people are always busy, busy, busy. No time to sit and visit. Just like Ophelia. She hasn’t been by for Sunday dinner in weeks.”

  Ophelia grimaced. “Now’s not the time for that, Grandma.”

  “It’s never the time,” Mrs. Nell said. She flashed her pearly-white dentures in Ian’s direction. “And who did you say this tall drink of water is?”

  “Ian Buckley. Remember? We went over this a few minutes ago?” Ophelia asked.

  “Hmm. I like the look of him. You caught yourself a good one, Jada. If I were forty years younger, er, fifty. Wait, sixty? Nah, fifty. If I were fifty years younger, I’d set my bonnet for you, sir.” She winked at Ian.

  Ophelia patted her grandmother’s hand. “That’s great, but we need to get moving.” She turned to Ian. “We’ve already gone over what you’re here to talk to them about. Feel free to ask whatever is necessary. We want to get to the bottom of this as much as you do, I assure you.”

  Jada bet she did.

  Ian gestured at Jada. They’d decided on the way in to town that she’d do the questioning.

  She began with Violet. “How long have you been filling in for Sylvia?”

  “Only today, this morning,” Violet blurted in a rush.

  Jada tried to set her at ease with a smile. “Thank you. Did anyone come in this morning asking for copies of marriage licenses?”

  “Yes, two people, and they both wanted the same thing, basically. One of them, a polite young woman, was already waiting when we opened.”

  Ian shifted in his chair, and Jada knew he was frustrated that his own employee hadn’t been waiting, too.

  “Can you remember exactly what she a
sked for?”

  “Oh yes. It’s been all over the internet, so I’d heard about it already. She wanted me to get her a copy of a marriage license recently filed for Ian Buckley. She was very clear that she wanted a copy of the original license, not a printout of the computer entry.” She shot a quick glance at Ian, then back to Jada.

  “And did you give her one?”

  “I would have, except I couldn’t find the original license. There was no license with Ian Buckley marrying anyone.”

  “What did she do when you told her?”

  “She asked about sending off for a copy, which was kind of strange. I told her if the license was filed recently and wasn’t in the filing cabinets, then we didn’t have it and that was that.”

  “That’s odd,” Jada said.

  “Not as much as you’d think,” Ophelia said. “You’ll understand later.”

  Jada accepted that and looked at Violet. “Anything else happen?”

  “She asked me to search again, and to look for your name, Jada Howarth. I did and I found a license that showed you as the bride. I made a copy for the woman and when she looked it over she seemed confused, then she paid me for the copy and left.”

  “We have a copy of that license here,” Ophelia said, patting a manilla folder on the table. “Everything in this is for you to take with you, as you requested.”

  Jada’s fingers itched to get hold of that smoking gun, but she repressed the urge. There’d be time for that later.

  “When did the second person arrive?” she asked.

  “Not too long after. Maybe a half hour,” Violet answered. “A young man.”

  “What did he ask for?”

  “He also wanted a copy of any marriage license which showed Ian Buckley had gotten married. I already knew there wasn’t one, of course, so I told him right away that we didn’t have what he wanted. He left looking pretty happy.”

  Ian shifted in his seat again. “Didn’t he ask how you knew there was no license when you didn’t go look?”

  “No,” Violet said.

  Ian sighed.

  Jada asked Violet one last important question. “Did you think about telling the young man that you’d found a marriage license with my name on it?”

  “I did, but I decided it wasn’t my business to suggest what someone might be interested in. It’s my job to give them what they request, if I can, and nothing more or less.”

  Jada maintained an air of approval while wishing Violet had been a less diligent employee and given Zeke the heads-up about the other license. If they’d had that, CGTV might have been stopped before breaking another false story. It was maddening.

  She raised an eyebrow in Ian’s direction. He nodded. She turned back to Violet. “Is there anything else that happened which might pertain to this situation?”

  “No. Nothing.”

  “Then we don’t have any more questions, Violet. Thank you for being so helpful.”

  After polite farewells, Jada settled in and prepared herself for round two. Mrs. Nell. Oh boy.

  While Jada had been questioning Violet, Mrs. Nell had pulled out a pile of yarn and begun crocheting peacefully on whatever it was she was making, probably booties. All the older ladies loved their booties. And tea cozies. They made lots of tea cozies, even though no one under sixty had any idea what they might be used for.

  Jada wanted to keep the questioning as clear-cut as possible. Mrs. Nell was still sharp, but she was over eighty years old, and allowances had to be made. “Mrs. Nell, did you work your usual hours last week?”

  “Yes I did. I never miss a day,” she said, not looking up from her work, peering down through a pair of thick-lensed glasses. “Monday, Wednesday and Friday, I’m always there from opening until lunch.”

  “Except for last week,” Ophelia prodded. “Remember how last week was different?”

  “I guess I do! I told you about it when you were asking me all those questions. My memory’s fine, young lady.”

  Ophelia’s brows drew together. “I’m not impugning your memory, Grandma. I was—”

  “There she goes with the big words. Im-pew-ning.” She glanced up at Jada and Ian and rolled her eyes. “Big shot lawyer, big shot words. But we love her anyway. Truth is, we’re pretty proud. First lawyer in the family. Needs to get herself a husband, but she’s doing okay. Women these days, I guess, they don’t need men the way we did.”

  Jada struggled to keep from chuckling at Ophelia’s long-suffering expression.

  The DA took a deep breath. “Grandma and I have already gone over everything this morning before you got here, so would it be okay if I give you a synopsis and you can ask Grandma to confirm that I got it right?”

  Jada was relieved. She’d dreaded interrogating elderly Mrs. Nell. “Yes, that sounds perfect. Ian?”

  “Agreed,” he said, settling back in his chair, his hands clasped loosely over his flat stomach, a portrait of relaxation.

  Jada never got used to how handsome he was, his dark hair and strong jawline, his muscular arms and wide shoulders. The small room made him seem even larger than usual. She tingled at the thought of how he kissed her, how he took her in those powerful arms and ...

  Well, she thought, how stupid was that? She pulled herself together and concentrated instead on how relaxed Ian was, considering the importance of this meeting. While she was glad he was enjoying himself, she hoped his attention didn’t falter.

  Wait. The man ran a multi-billion-dollar empire. Of course he could look relaxed and still pay attention. He was probably deliberately putting everyone at ease, or had some other, Machiavellian reason for his position that Jada couldn’t comprehend.

  Ophelia brought her back to the meeting by saying, “Grandma and I had a long conversation about everything, and I think we have some information that will be useful.”

  “I should hope so,” Mrs. Nell said. “Been a lot of to-do about your wedding, young lady.”

  “I can’t argue with you about that,” Jada said.

  “And for the record,” Ophelia said, “without Sylvia here to corroborate what Grandma has told me, we can’t conclude anything for certain.”

  “We understand,” Jada said. “What have you learned?”

  “It started last Wednesday morning, not long before lunch. Grandma remembers a woman coming in and talking to Sylvia for a while.”

  “Did she overhear anything they said?” Jada asked.

  “Not much. She was busy with her work.” She eyeballed Mrs. Nell’s yarn pile, silently informing them that this undoubtedly was the work Mrs. Nell had been doing.

  “Did she get a look at the woman? Can you describe her at all, Mrs. Nell?” Jada asked.

  “She had on a big hat and sunglasses, kind of like you did when you came in,” Mrs. Nell answered. “And she was tall. I remember that. You don’t see many women that tall around here. We don’t grow ‘em that big.”

  “Do you remember anything else about her? Hair color, what kind of clothes she wore, what the hat looked like, anything at all?”

  “No, none of that,” Mrs. Nell said. “I was at my desk and she was all the way up front. I was wearing my close-up crocheting specs, not my looking-out-there ones.”

  “That’s exactly what she told me earlier,” Ophelia confirmed. “The woman spoke with Sylvia for some time and Grandma believes they were talking about a marriage license because she heard the word wedding several times, and Sylvia kept studying the document the woman and she were discussing.”

  Jackpot, Jada thought. If Mrs. Nell’s story was true, and Jada had no reason to doubt it, then Sylvia did know what was on that marriage license. Therefore, it made sense to conclude that there was more behind the bribe Sylvia accepted than merely calling CGTV with a tip, precisely as Jada and Marina had speculated.

  “Grandma doesn’t remember how long they talked,” Ophelia continued. “Grandma definitely remembers that right before noon, when it was time for her leave for the day, Sylvia got a call from her son’s
school. There had been an accident on the playground and they wanted Sylvia to pick him up and take him to the doctor. Grandma agreed to stay late and watch the office while Sylvia was gone. Sylvia left and when she wasn’t able to return, Grandma stayed until closing. Did I get everything right, Grandma?”

  “You did.”

  Jada made notes on a pad. Knowing the details she had gotten from Marina about Sylvia’s meeting with the mystery woman, Jada didn’t want to forget any of Mrs. Nell’s recollections.

  “You helped with Sylvia’s work, too. Isn’t that correct?” Ophelia asked Mrs. Nell.

  “That’s right. I felt bad about her little boy, so I covered for the dear. That way she wouldn’t have so much to make up when she came back.”

  “Make a note of that and we’ll return to it later,” Ophelia said, cryptically. “The next morning, Sylvia called and asked to use some leave time because she had to stay home with her injured son. She said she’d need Thursday and Friday off. Grandma agreed to come in and work all day Thursday and Friday.”

  “Yes,” Mrs. Nell said. “I didn’t mind. And anyway, it was slow, and the girls in the city clerk’s office took turns coming down and helping me when I got busy.”

  “Have you spoken to any of those helpers about what they saw?” Jada asked.

  “I did,” Ophelia said. “They weren’t there when it happened.”

  “When what happened?” Jada asked.

  “From what I can tell, it was business as usual in records until late Friday afternoon. Grandma was alone in the office when another tall, thin woman arrived and asked Grandma what she had on Ian Buckley. Grandma didn’t actually remember Ian’s name when we first discussed this today, but she remembered it was a man’s name, and all things considered, you’ll see it had to have been Ian when you hear the rest.”

  Jada and Ian shared a look.

  “Could this woman have been the same one who came on Wednesday?” Jada asked.

  “Huh,” Mrs. Nell said. “Let me think about that. I don’t know. Maybe. No, I don’t think so. This woman was loud and rude as anything, so I probably would have remembered that. Probably. Let me tell you, this skinny blonde was a real how-do-ya-do. I would have told her to get her nasty self on out of there, except I try to be a professional.”