“I believe I can manage.” As Travis went to the doors leading into the library he remembered that Penny had told him the contract would be on the desk. But Russell had been here to hand it to him—which meant that he’d shown up without his mother’s knowledge. Interesting. “You ever do any climbing? Skiing? Sailing?”
“Yes,” Russell said, then nodded toward the door. It looked like he wasn’t going to reveal any more about himself. “You might like to know,” Russell said, “that I got Borman down to one seventy-five.”
Travis blinked a few times. He wasn’t used to anyone else doing his negotiating for him, but in this case, he was grateful. “Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate—”
Russell cut him off. “It’s four.”
Travis took a breath and opened the door. David Borman was sitting in a leather chair so big that it made him look small and insignificant—and Travis was sure that Russell had put that chair there on purpose. It was difficult not to smile. In spite of Russell’s hostility and his refusal to answer questions, Travis was beginning to like the guy.
As Travis looked at the man sitting in the big chair, his first thought was: Kim could do better. Borman wasn’t tall, was slightly built, and was so blond he was almost invisible. It wasn’t easy for Travis to reconcile what he knew of this man to what he saw. He certainly didn’t look treacherous.
“You’re Westwood, the owner of this place?” the man asked. His wide eyes showed how in awe of it he was—which was what Travis had wanted.
Travis didn’t answer, just looked at him with what he’d heard people call “the Maxwell glare.”
Borman sat back against the chair, his nervousness obvious.
Travis sat down and took his time looking over the contract. It was very simple. He was buying Borman Catering et al. He would get the name, the equipment, and even keep the employees.
The document had been signed by Russell Pendergast. Travis took more time looking at the signature than he did at the contract. It was bold, sure of itself—and it reminded him of something but he couldn’t think what.
When he looked up, Borman was chewing on his thumbnail and there was sweat on his upper lip.
“Mr. Borman,” Travis said as he folded his hands on top of the contract. “I have just been informed of a situation that may cause insurmountable problems.”
Borman drew in his breath and muttered, “What is it?”
“It has come to my attention that there’s something about a missing ring. I don’t want any problems with law enforcement.”
Borman gave a sigh of relief and lifted to one side to remove his wallet from his hip pocket. “That has nothing to do with my business. It’s personal.” He withdrew a small square of paper from his wallet and leaned forward to put it on the desk. “I must say that you have been doing your homework. So where do I sign?”
“This is a pawn ticket,” Travis said and knew what it meant. The employee that Kim trusted had given this man a ring, and Borman had pawned it. But Travis had long ago learned that he couldn’t jump to conclusions, that he shouldn’t base his assessments of a situation on hearsay. When it came down to it, he only had Russell’s word about what this man had been up to.
As much as Travis wanted to get rid of the man, get him out of his sight, at the same time he wanted evidence directly from the source. He leaned back in his chair and pointedly looked at the ticket on the big desk. “Mr. Borman, I run a legitimate business. I don’t sign contracts if pawnshops and the police are involved.”
“Police? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I owe a little money, for supplies and that sort of thing, but I’ve done nothing illegal.”
“From what I heard, this ring is worth several thousand dollars. I don’t want to retrieve it from the pawnshop then find out that it’s been stolen.”
Borman leaned back in the leather chair, glanced at the unsigned contract on the desk, then back at Travis. He looked thoroughly annoyed. “It’s nothing,” he said. “It’s about a woman, that’s all. Get the ring out of hock and return it to her. No one will press charges.”
Travis’s face was stern, the one he wore when he was working for his father. “Perhaps you should tell me exactly what this is about. Or maybe I should cancel this.” He picked up the contract and acted as though he was about to tear it in half.
“No!” Borman shouted, then calmed. “It’s just women stuff, that’s all.” When Travis didn’t relent, he said, “There was a woman, a cute little redhead. She has a jewelry store near here. It’s little, nothing special. The problem was that she’s a woman. You know what I mean?”
“I’m not sure I understand.” Travis put the contract down and gave Borman his full attention.
“The problem was that she worked on a small scale when she should have been thinking big. I tried to talk to her about it, for her own good. But she wouldn’t listen to me. I wanted to take her store national, make it into a chain. I was going to call it The Family Jewels. Get it?”
“I get it,” Travis said. Under the desk his hands were in fists.
“But she just laughed at me. Not that I told her I was serious about the name, as she can be a real prude. She’s the kind of girl that goes to church every Sunday. Anyway, she wouldn’t even consider going national, so I decided that the best thing would be to marry her, then I’d be able to help her out. I was really thinking of her. Know what I mean?”
“Yes, I do.” Travis took a breath. “Did she know why you wanted to marry her?”
“Hell no! She’s a clever little thing, so I had to be careful. I was very nice to her, sweetest person imaginable. Treated her with the respect of a choirboy. Even in the sack I was good. Nothing creative, if you know what I mean.”
Travis had to work to keep from diving across the desk and going for the man’s throat. “What about the ring? Where did it fit into all this?”