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“Is there anything we could have missed?” asked Jackson. “Some paper record, a secret email account, a different cell phone?”
“I’ve searched his office. I’ve looked through the mansion. I even called Kassandra.”
“You called Kassandra?”
“You didn’t?”
“Of course I did. But it’s my job to chase down every lead.”
“It’s my company,” said Tuck. “And it’s going rapidly downhill without Dixon.”
“What was your take on Kassandra?” asked Jackson.
“That’s she’s a selfish, spoiled princess who gambled and lost.” Tuck couldn’t help a grim smirk at the memory. Clearly, his former sister-in-law had expected a hefty financial settlement.
“She’s holding a grudge,” said Jackson. “Do you think she’d harm him?”
“She probably wants to. But that would require risk and effort. She’s lazy.”
“Yeah,” Jackson agreed. “I’m starting to wonder if he was kidnapped.”
Tuck frowned. He’d been picturing Dixon on a tropical beach somewhere. If his brother was in trouble, then Tuck’s anger at him was completely misplaced.
“Maybe he was forced to write that letter to your dad,” said Jackson.
“Tell me you’re not serious.”
“Who saw him last?”
Tuck nodded to his closed office door, his thoughts moving to Amber. She’d kept him carefully at arm’s length since the night in New York, but he was practically obsessing over her.
“His assistant, Amber,” he told Jackson. “He was in the office for a few hours the day he left.”
“Can you call her in?”
“Sure.” Tuck came to his feet. “But I’ve already pumped her for information. She’s the one who gave me his password. He didn’t tell her where he was going.”
He crossed to the door and drew it open, walking into the outer office.
Amber was at her desk, profile to him as she typed on the keyboard.
“Can you join us?” he asked.
She stopped typing and glanced up, her blue gaze meeting his. There was a wariness there, which he chalked up to the kisses in New York. Could she tell he wanted to do it again? He was dying to do it again. He feared it was written all over his expression every time he looked her way.
“Sure.” She smoothed out her expression and pushed back her chair.
As usual, her outfit was straitlaced, a navy blazer over a matching pleated skirt and a white blouse. Her spike pumps were bright blue with a slash of white across the toe. They appeared simple by Amber-footwear standards, but they still struck him as sleekly sexy. Or maybe it was only his fevered imagination.
As she rose, he caught a glimpse of lace beneath the neckline of her blouse and his desire went into hyperdrive. He warned himself to bide his time until Dixon returned. When things were back to normal, he’d try approaching her again. Amber would no longer be working for him then.
“What do you need?” she asked as she passed by him.
“Jackson has a couple of questions.” Tuck fell into step behind her.
“What kind of questions?”
“About Dixon.”
She twisted her head, pausing just outside the office door. “What about Dixon?”
Did he detect guilt in her eyes? Was she nervous?
“The usual questions.” He found himself scrutinizing her expression.
“What are the usual questions?”
“Shall we find out?”
“I’ve told you everything I know.”
“You say that in a way that makes me wonder.”
“Words strung into a sentence make you suspicious?”
“You’re jumpy,” he said.
“I’m annoyed.”
“You have no reason to be annoyed.”
“I’ve got work to do.”
“So do I. And none of our work gets easier until Dixon is back.”
Her eyes narrowed. “He shouldn’t be your crutch.”
“He’s everybody’s crutch. Do you know where he is?”
“No.”
He gestured her forward. “Then, let’s go talk to Jackson.”
Amber squared her shoulders and moved into the office.
Jackson rose. “Nice to see you again, Amber.”
“Why do I feel like this is an interrogation?” she asked.
“I have that effect on people,” said Jackson.
“You should stop.” She took one of the armchairs in the grouping.
