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Charlie stared at her in disbelief. Dawn wanted Charlie to train her on the surveillance equipment. So that Dawn would be able to more thoroughly spy. On Charlie.
This was her life. Good God.
“Sure,” she forced herself to say. “I’d love to train you.” Dawn could spy away. She wasn’t going to find anything.
“Great. We’ll start now.”
“I...I need a few minutes to wrap this up and answer some emails.”
“I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”
Charlie held her breath as Dawn stood, smoothed down her perfectly pressed pink skirt and patted her hair. As soon as she stepped out of the office, Charlie hunched over her laptop and typed “morality clause” into the search engine.
A few clicks and she was pretty sure she could relax. Dawn couldn’t control her with a morality clause. She couldn’t be fired for just having sex or staying out all night, even if that offended Dawn’s puritanical sensibilities. The morality clause could only be enacted if Charlie’s behavior adversely affected the resort’s ability to be successful. And hell, hotels made a big chunk of money turning a blind eye to people’s sex lives. They really wouldn’t want to take a stand against that.
Her relief didn’t remove any of her determination. She quietly closed the door of her office and dialed her brother’s cell phone number. She hadn’t seen him since she’d returned to Jackson. She still didn’t want to see him, but maybe he knew something about Dawn and her husband that would help make things clear.
“Hi, Brad. It’s Charlie.”
“Hey. What’s up?” He sounded neither surprised nor pleased to hear from her.
“Do you have time to grab a bite tonight? I’d like to catch up.”
“Sure. Sounds good.” Again, no surprise or pleasure on his part. Just flatness. It was the story of their relationship.
“How are you?” she ventured, but he only responded with an impatient grunt, as if he had nothing to say to her.
Charlie gave up and they made arrangements to meet in town. She doubted he could help, but he was a commercial developer. He likely knew the Taggerts or had at least heard things about Dawn from other people in his circle.
As soon as she hung up, Charlie opened the site of her preferred background investigator. She’d done a quick background check on the Taggerts before she’d accepted the job, because she damn sure wasn’t going to end up working for a criminal again. But Dawn’s behavior called for more insight.
With a glance at her closed door, she typed in the information she knew about Dawn Taggert and ordered a more specialized report. Maybe signs of a personality disorder would turn up.
A thorough hundred-and-twenty-five-dollar report might solve this mystery. She should have done it days ago, when things had begun to feel fishy. But it felt like treason. Even though the receipt for the report wouldn’t show the name of the person checked, Charlie still paid for it herself just to make sure the report wouldn’t be discovered.
Despite her precaution, a chill ran down her spine. She felt she was being watched, but that was an old familiar paranoia. After all, she spent her days watching people. It only made sense that she’d live with that feeling herself.
Still, Charlie carefully closed the window, deleted all her search histories and caches and even destroyed the email receipt that popped into her in-box. A girl could never be too careful, after all.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“CHARLIE,” HER BROTHER said as she gave him an obligatory hug. “You look good.”
“Thanks. So do you.” That was a bit of an exaggeration. Brad looked tired, but that was hardly a surprise. He was currently on his third divorce at age thirty-four and losing a lot of hair.
Her older brother had never been good at relationships of any kind. He was as selfish as their father had always been, but he lacked the charm that helped keep people attached to arrogant bastards. Charlie couldn’t imagine why even one woman had agreed to marry him in the first place, much less three different women. Then again, she’d seen a lot during her time in Vegas and Tahoe. It was amazing the kind of men women would date for money. And sad just how little money it took.
She and her brother made small talk as they looked over the menu, pretending to care what each had been up to since they’d seen each other three years before at their dad’s funeral. That had been an even more awkward visit, surrounded by family that neither of them knew. Their father’s other grown children, who offered polite, distant smiles. Aunts and uncles and cousins Charlie and Brad should’ve known but didn’t.
Their father had been their mom’s first husband, and she’d quickly moved on to several more. There’d been way too many relatives in their childhood, and none of them permanent.
Once the small talk degenerated to a discussion of her brother’s divorce, Charlie tuned him out. She didn’t care about his latest wife’s attempt to “rob him blind,” and he looked equally impatient with her whitewashed version of the past year.
“So, how’s the new job?” he finally asked.
Ah. The crux of the matter.
“It’s interesting. I’m working for Dawn and Keith Taggert.”
