Page 409 of A Matter of Time

“What?”

She shook her head.

“Gwen?” I pressed her.

She let out a quick breath. “The business isn’t going well, J. If Dad wants to keep helping other people go green, he’s gonna have to either get a loan from Dane, find other investors, or take on a partner. He doesn’t like the idea of the investors or the partner, so I think he went to hit Dane up for money.”

I nodded. “That’s where they are? In Chicago, asking Dane for money?”

“Mom said they were going to see Dane, and I’m not stupid. I hear what’s going on, ya know?”

I didn’t think she was stupid, but she was out of the loop big-time on this one. “So can I ask you a favor?”

“Course.” She yawned. “You want a mocha? I’m making myself one. Casey bought me a cappuccino maker for my birthday last month.”

“Casey?”

“My boyfriend, Casey,” she said, giggling. “I only talk about him all the time.”

“The paragon of virtue, Casey.” I smiled. “I remember.”

She swatted my arm. “Jory, just because you’re a huge slut doesn’t mean everybody is.”

Gwen Reid and Casey Mills had been dating for five years, and they had, as far as I knew, never had sex. The whole no-sex-before-marriage thing had me stumped, but I respected the choice, if nothing else.

“So? Coffee?”

I shook my head. “No thanks on the mocha thing, but do you think you could help me find all the stuff your mom has about Dane’s adoption?”

She squinted at me. “Sweetie, all that stuff’s in the safe, I’m sure, but…why do you wanna see it?”

“I just really wanna find the agency that put him up for adoption, because I think maybe the Harcourts had another child that I wanna check on.”

Her eyes got big. “You think the Harcourts adopted Dane and somebody else?”

It was a juicy lie. “Yeah. I think maybe Dane has another sibling out there, but I can’t even dig until I know the agency.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “Let’s go see what we can find.”

I was led to her father’s den and then directed to the safe in the floor behind his desk. Gwen knew the combination, and once it was opened, we found the deed for the house, invoices for various supplies and merchandise, birth certificates, picture negatives, five thousand dollars in cash, passports, and a set of keys.

“Sorry, J.” She sighed. “I would have thought this is where it would have been.”

“Can we check your mom’s room?”

“Sure.” She yawned, locking the safe. “C’mon.”

We climbed the stairs to the second floor, and Gwen explained that to the right was her father’s room. I looked at her.

“Yeah, I know. But my parents have always had separate rooms. My dad snores like mad, and my mom does this freaky throat-clearing thing in the night. It’s all phlegmy and gross.”

I smiled at her as we passed his room and walked to the next one.

Susan’s room was connected to her husband’s by a door, just like at a hotel, except there was no lock on either side. Which made sense. Why would there be a lock?

“Cute, right?”

Big is the adjective I would have chosen. Susan Reid’s bedroom was all wood floors and a huge four-poster bed made of what looked like mahogany. It was very dark and just a little creepy. The entire wall, on either side of the bed, was comprised of drawers.