Hidden Riches by Nora Roberts Page A

drink?”
    â€œSure.”
    As she crossed the threshold into her apartment, she pulled off the other shoe and tossed them both aside. “Brandy?”
    â€œFine.” He glanced at the broken china on the floor. That must have been the crash he’d heard. Between that and the shouting, he’d had a bad moment deciding whether or not to intervene. Even when he’d carried a badge, he’d worried more about answering a domestic dispute than collaring a pro.
    He looked over at Dora while she poured brandy into snifters. Her face was still flushed, her eyes still narrowed. He had to be grateful his Seventh Cavalry routine hadn’t been necessary.
    â€œSo, who was the jerk?”
    â€œMy former accountant.” Dora handed Jed a snifter. “He spends the evening boring me into a coma talking about Schedule Cs and long-term capital gains, then figures he can come back here and rip my clothes off.”
    Jed skimmed his gaze down her glittery black dress. “Nice clothes,” he decided. “Don’t know why he’d waste his time with capital gains.”
    Dora drank again, tilted her head. “Give me a minute. I think there was supposed to be a compliment buried in there.”
    Jed shrugged. “Looks like he got the worst of it.”
    â€œI should have broken his nose.” Pouting, she walked over and crouched to pick up broken bric-a-brac. “Look at this!” Temper began to simmer again. She held up a broken cup. “This was Derby. Eighteen-fifteen. And this ashtray was Manhattan.”
    Jed crouched beside her. “Expensive?”
    â€œThat’s not the point. This used to be a Hazel Ware candy dish—Moroccan amethyst, with lid.”
    â€œIt’s trash now. Leave it be; you’re going to cut yourself. Get a broom or something.”
    Muttering, she rose and went out to rummage in the kitchen. “He even had a toothbrush in his pocket.” She came out, waving a whisk broom and dustpan like a shield and spear. “A damn toothbrush. I bet the son of a bitch was an Eagle Scout.”
    â€œProbably had a change of underwear in his overcoat pocket.” Gently, Jed took the broom from her.
    â€œI wouldn’t be surprised.” Dora stalked back to the kitchen for the trash can. She winced as Jed dumped a load of broken glass into the trash can. “And a couple of condoms.”
    â€œAny self-respecting Eagle Scout would have those in his wallet.”
    Resigned, she sat on the arm of the chair again. The theatrics, it seemed, were over. “Were you?”
    â€œWas I what?”
    â€œAn Eagle Scout.”
    He dumped the last load of glass, then sent her a long look. “No. I was a delinquent. Better watch your feet over here. I might have missed some splinters.”
    â€œThanks.” Too wired to sit, Dora rose to replenish both snifters. “So what do you do now?”
    â€œYou ought to know.” Jed took out a pack of cigarettes, lighted one. “I filled out an application.”
    â€œI didn’t have a chance to read it. Can I have one of those?” She nodded to his cigarette. “I like to smoke intimes of stress or great annoyance.”
    He passed her the one he’d already lighted and took out another. “Feeling better?”
    â€œI guess.” She took a quick drag, blew it out as quickly. She didn’t like the taste, only the effect. “You didn’t answer my question.”
    â€œWhat question?”
    â€œWhat do you do?”
    â€œNothing.” He smiled, but there was nothing humorous about it. “I’m independently wealthy.”
    â€œOh. I guess it pays to be a delinquent.” She took another pull on the cigarette. The smoke and the brandy were making her pleasantly dizzy. “So what do you do with yourself all day?”
    â€œNothing much.”
    â€œI could keep you busy.”
    His brow lifted. “Is that so?”
    â€œHonest