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“I’ll keep that in mind.”
For some reason, the exchange grated on Tuck. Jackson wasn’t flirting with her. But he was joking with her and Tuck didn’t like it.
“Your questions?” he asked Jackson.
Jackson caught his gaze and looked puzzled.
“Sure,” said Jackson, obviously waiting for Tuck to sit down.
Tuck perched on the arm of a chair. He folded his arms over his chest.
It took Jackson a moment to move his attention back to Amber.
“I’m sure you’ll agree,” he said to her, “that Dixon has been gone longer than any of us expected.”
“How long did we expect him to be gone?” she asked.
“Did he tell you how long he’d be gone?”
Amber glanced fleetingly at Tuck. “His letter said a month.”
“It’s been a month.”
“Almost.”
“No phone call? No postcard?”
“Who sends a postcard these days?”
“People who want you to know they’re having a good time and wish you were there.”
Amber’s gaze hardened. “I doubt he’s having a good time.”
Tuck could almost hear Jackson’s senses go on alert.
“Why?” Jackson asked.
“You know about his ex-wife.” Amber wasn’t asking a question.
“I do.”
“Then you know he’s recovering from her treachery.”
“Treachery?”
“What would you call it?”
“Infidelity.”
“Okay.”
Jackson paused. “What was your relationship with Dixon?”
“Hey,” Tuck protested. “Amber’s not on trial.”
Jackson shot him a look of astonishment. “Should I be doing this without you?”
“He was my boss,” said Amber. “Full stop. And if one more person insinuates it was something inappropriate, I’m walking out the door.”
“Who else insinuated that?”
“Back off,” said Tuck. This was getting them nowhere. It was only annoying Amber, and rightly so. He didn’t blame her for being ticked off.
“Who else?” asked Jackson.
“Tuck.” She slid him an angry glance.
He held up his hands in surrender. He hadn’t considered anything of the sort for quite some time now.
“And Jamison,” said Amber.
Jackson’s tone slipped up in obvious surprise. “Jamison thought you were having an affair with his son?”
“Only because Jamison was having an—” Amber snapped her mouth shut.
Jackson blinked.
Tuck rose to his feet.
Amber stiffened her spine.
“You’re going to have to finish that sentence,” said Tuck.
She shook her head.
“I insist.”
“We all know what she was going to say,” Jackson said.
“I didn’t say it,” said Amber.
“My father was having an affair?”
She glared at Tuck. “Let it go.”
“With who?” he demanded. Tuck’s first reaction was that it couldn’t be true. Then again, it absolutely could be true. Lots of high-powered, self-gratifying people cheated. Why not his father?
“It’s not for me to say,” Amber responded. “I found out by accident. In fact, I don’t even know for sure.”
“Who do you suspect?”
Who it was might have no bearing on Dixon’s situation. Then again, it might. Had Dixon known about the affair?
“That would be gossip,” said Amber.
“My father is in the hospital. My brother is missing. Gossip already.”
She glanced from Tuck to Jackson and back again. “Can I swear you two to secrecy?”
“Amber,” Tuck all but shouted.
This wasn’t a negotiation. There were no conditions. She was answering the question.
“Yes,” said Jackson. He glared at Tuck. “We’ll keep it to ourselves. As you say, it’s speculation. It would be wrong for us to act on hearsay.”
“Margaret,” said Amber.
“His Margaret?” Tuck asked.
“Who is Margaret?” asked Jackson.
“His assistant,” said Amber.
“But—” Tuck couldn’t wrap his head around it. Margaret Smithers could best be described as matronly. She was middle-aged, slightly overweight, her hair was partly gray and her clothes were polyester.
“Expecting a blond supermodel?” asked Amber.
