 “Do you know her name?” Gerome walked to the large sink and filled a glass with water.
“Leiann Hambrick. Such a pretty name.” Martha went back to stirring the pot on the stove. “My granddaughter, Charity, is serving as her maid. She saw it engraved on a leather portfolio. She couldn’t get over the strange spelling. L-E-I-A-N-N.”
“That is unusual.”
When Gerome returned to his room that night, he took out his secure satellite cell phone and punched in the number of his best friend and coworker. “I need some information, Greg. Find out everything you can about a Leiann Hambrick.” He spelled her first name the way Martha had told him. “She’s from somewhere in Texas.” Gerome raked one hand through his unruly curls. “I need the information ASAP.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
Gerome snapped the phone shut and stared out into the darkening twilight. Why did this woman show up now? Was she part of what he came to check out?
She could even be a gold digger out to get what she could from the Old Man. If she came here to get her hands on his millions, she’ll have to go through a brick wall—me.
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