Page 34 of Amazing Grace
A few minutes later, the receptionist was followed by a large, balding man with a wide grin full of teeth that were too white and too straight to be anything but capped or implanted.
It was a warm grin, but there was something fake about it, and rote, as if he spent time looking in the mirror and practicing until he got it right.
Grace mistrusted him on sight. He reminded her of an eel — slippery, with sharp teeth, and not something she’d want to stick her hand in the water and play with.
“Ms. Conroy! What a pleasure to meet you. I’m Albert Herves.” He reached out to shake her hand, completely ignoring Molly.
“Hello, Mr. Herves. This is Molly Sunshine.”
He turned his false-fish grin at Molly. He briefly shook her hand, as if he couldn’t wait to let go of her. “Of course. I believe Jeremy Prada mentioned you once or twice.” He was dismissive, and Grace’s sense of his worth instantly dropped. Even if he was on the level, she wouldn’t invest a penny with this man.
“So,” Herves said, clapping his hands together, “are you thinking of investing with us?”
“I’ve heard a lot about you since I’ve been in town,” Grace said. It didn’t answer his question, but it was true.
“Good! Good! Come with me. We can talk in my office,” Herves said. “Ms. Sunshine can wait here.”
“Molly goes where I go,” Grace said pointedly. “She’s my assistant, and I rely on her help and her opinion.”
“Oh, well, certainly. Please join us, Ms. Sunshine,” Herves said. It was obvious he was trying to be cordial but was forcing it. He led Grace and Molly into a private elevator, and up to the second floor.
His office took up the entire second floor. It was also ultramodern. His desk was a huge slap of granite with rough-cut edges that was nearly the size of a conference table. Its base was silver and gold, and Grace would eat her hat if it wasn’t at least gold-plated.
Two chairs faced it; his own massive executive chair was white with brushed silver accents and waited behind the desk.
Hanging on one wall was a monumental television set, easily one hundred inches diagonally. Underneath it was a pool table; the flawless green felt startling against the brushed steel frame.
In another corner of the room was another desk, a smaller version of Herves’ but not by much. It held several full-size monitors and a computer keyboard.
He slid behind his desk and lowered himself into his chair. “Please, have a seat. Tell me what I can do for you, Grace.”
It irritated Grace to be called by her first name without invitation, but she shrugged it off. “I’m interested in investments, Albert. Personal investments, not involving my company,” She watched a small tic above his left eye at her familiar use of his first name. This was a man used to being called Mister, or Sir. It annoyed her even more.
“Wonderful. We can safely invest your money in a diverse portfolio…”
Her mind wandered as he blathered on. She looked around the room. Everything in it was new, expensive, shiny. Nothing old or antique anywhere. She looked back at Herves. This was not a man who treasured the past. This was a man who worshiped the future. If he owned a gun, it would be Glock or a Girsan. Something new and shiny.
He wasn’t their man.
Just as he was winding down, Grace stood up. “Well, you’ve given me plenty to think about, Albert. I’ll call you in a day or two to let you know what I’ve decided.” She motioned to Molly. “Let’s go, Molly. We have other appointments to get to.”
“Let me give you one more thing to think about, Ms. Conroy. Summit Springs is a small town. If you’re going to run around asking questions about the murder of a certain former colleague of mine, I would suggest you do it much more discreetly.” There was steel in his voice and in his eyes.
Grace knew for sure it was time to get out of there. “Molly, let’s go.”
Molly didn’t argue. She just stood up, nodded to Herves, and followed Grace to the elevator. They stepped inside, andGrace pushed the button to the lobby. The doors slid shut on Herves’ face. He looked like he didn’t know what had hit him.
They nodded to the receptionist on their way out. Once outside, Molly seemed to exhale in a solid stream of questions.
“What just happened? Why didn’t you ask him any questions? I thought you were going to ask him about the revolver!”
“You heard him. He wasn’t happy about us asking questions about Jeremy. Besides, did you see the reception area? His office? He worships at the altar of the new, of the futuristic. There wasn’t a single antique or collectible in sight. There was only new stuff, expensive, shiny furniture, and wall coverings. Steel and silver, gold, and gray marble. He wouldn’t own an old gun, and if he did, he wouldn’t use it. He’d use something new. He’s not our guy.
She took a deep breath, then threw an arm around Molly’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “But I think I know who is. I need to go see Sheriff Maverick.”
Chapter 14
When Grace and Molly walked into the police department, Deputy Britney Aldridge looked up from her desk. She’d been typing, probably a report of some kind. “Grace. Molly. What can I do for you?”