The Brother's Wife. Amanda Stevens

she agreed to see him. In fact, she offered to fly him from Houston to Memphis in the Kingsley jet, but he declined. He told her it wouldn’t be right to spend Kingsley money on him until they know for sure he’s Adam. Iris was very impressed by this.”

      “I can imagine,” Jake said dryly. He sat on the edge of his desk, gazing down at Victor Northrup. “But what does any of this have to do with me?”

      “I’m coming to that,” Northrup said, hesitating. “As Iris’s attorney, but more importantly as her friend, my job is to protect her interests. At any cost. For all we know, this man is a very clever impostor who has managed to circumvent the background check my office would have conducted on him if not for Iris’s intervention.”

      “Can’t your office conduct the investigation now?” Jake asked.

      Northrup shook his head. “It’s now become very complicated. Iris, you see, has convinced herself this man is her long-lost grandson. He’s agreed to a DNA test, but we won’t have the results for weeks. In that length of time, a professional con man can do a great deal of damage, both financially and psychologically. It’s the latter I’m most worried about. Iris is extremely vulnerable right now. If she continues to believe this man is her grandson, and then finds out weeks later that he is not, the result could be devastating.”

      “I understand,” Jake said. “But I still don’t see why your office can’t at least run a background check on him.”

      Again Northrup hesitated, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. “Iris doesn’t want an investigation of any kind. She’s made her position very clear. She wants to believe this man is her grandson for as long as possible. If I find out that he isn’t…if I’m the one to break the news to her—”

      “I get it,” Jake interrupted. “She might want to shoot the messenger.”

      The piercing gray eyes met his. “That’s where you come in. I want you to investigate this man, leave no stone unturned, but I don’t want anyone to know that I’ve hired you.”

      “What if I find out he’s an impostor?” Jake asked. “How are you going to convince Mrs. Kingsley?”

      “You get the proof,” Northrup said. “I’ll worry about dealing with Iris. Do we have an agreement?”

      Jake had a feeling that making a deal with Victor Northrup might be akin to striking a bargain with the devil. He wasn’t about to rush into anything. He knew Northrup hadn’t.

      “Let me think about it overnight and I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

      Northrup seemed surprised by Jake’s hesitancy, but he shrugged. “Fair enough,” he replied, rising to leave. “I’ll expect to hear from you first thing in the morning. We can go over the details then.”

      When Northrup was at the door, Jake said, “One more thing.”

      Northrup turned.

      “Why me? There are dozens of qualified investigators in this city. You have to know how Mrs. Kingsley feels about me.”

      “That’s precisely why I chose you.” Northrup’s expression remained unfathomable. “You aren’t afraid of Iris Kingsley, and from what I’ve been able to gather, you don’t mind getting your hands dirty if the situation warrants it.”

      * * *

      FROM HER CAR, HOPE watched Victor Northrup leave Jake’s building and head her way. She slumped in her seat, not wanting to be seen. Iris had made her wishes clear, and if Victor saw Hope here, he might put two and two together and figure out she’d come to hire Jake to investigate Michael.

      Come to think of it, what was Victor doing here? Hope wondered, lifting her head slightly to see if he’d passed by her car yet. She couldn’t imagine that he’d been visiting a client in this area of town. Could he have been here to see Jake, too? Had he also gone against Iris’s wishes and hired a private investigator to check into Michael’s background?

      But why Jake? Northrup’s law firm had several private investigators on the payroll at any given time. Why would he not use one of them? Unless, of course, he was afraid Iris might get wind of the investigation. But whatever his motive, Hope knew he had thought out his alternatives carefully. Victor Northrup was not an impulsive man.

      Although he had been close to the Kingsleys for years and Iris and Andrew had trusted him implicitly with both their private and business dealings, Hope didn’t really like Victor. There had always been something about him that was just a little too smooth. A little too polished. When he had brought her the news of Andrew’s death, his condolences had sounded almost practiced, as if he knew the right things to say, but lacked the emotion to make them convincing.

      Hope watched him get into a silver Rolls-Royce and pull away from the curb. She waited until he was out of sight, then got out of her car and crossed the street to Jake’s building. The receptionist had already left for the day, so Hope studied the directory mounted on the wall near the entrance to locate Jake’s office.

      The elevator lifted her to the third floor, and when the doors slid open, Hope’s stomach knotted with nerves. What if he wouldn’t see her? He’d been so cool to her this morning, and there was no reason to think his attitude might have changed in a few hours. Ten years of bitterness lay between them, after all, and as Hope stood outside his office door, poised to knock, every one of those years came crashing down on her.

      Before she could change her mind, she lifted her hand and rapped on the door, then opened it without waiting for him to answer.