Read Online Shadow Waltz by Amy Patricia Meade - Free Book Online Page B

world?”
    Marjorie narrowed her eyes.
    â€œSorry,” Creighton excused. “That was a rhetorical question, wasn’t it?”
    â€œAs I was saying,” Marjorie continued, “Elizabeth and little Michael have been through enough. I’d prefer to spare them any further upset until we have all the facts. In the meantime, we’ll call her and say that we have a few leads, but that we’d like to check his office since he spent so much time there.”
    â€œâ€˜We’ll’ call Elizabeth Barnwell?”
    â€œWhat?” Marjorie answered blankly.
    â€œYou said ‘we’ but I’m certain that you mean ‘me.’”
    Marjorie sipped her coffee innocently as Agnes placed a basket of warm cinnamon buns beside her. “I’m certain I did too.” Her green eyes sparkled.

    After a brief call to Elizabeth Barnwell, Marjorie and Creighton traveled to the New England Allied Insurance Company to speak with Michael’s employer, Benjamin Sachs. What Mr. Sachs might be able to tell them, they did not know, but if Elizabeth’s timeline was correct, he may have been the last person to see Michael before his disappearance.
    A tweed-clad secretary emerged from behind a frosted glass door. “Mr. Sachs will see you now.”
    Marjorie and Creighton shuffled into the tiny wood-paneled room. Benjamin Sachs was a small, balding man whose slender physique seemed to float in the bagginess of his poorly tailored suit. He rose to his feet, removed the cigar from his mouth with one hand, and reached across the shabby desk with the other. “Benjamin Sachs. And you are?”
    Creighton shook the man’s hand vigorously. “Creighton Ashcroft . And this is my fiancée, Miss Marjorie McClelland.”
    Sachs smiled at the young writer. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. Sit down.” He gestured to a small, upholstered seat. “I’ll have my secretary bring in an extra chair.”
    â€œThat won’t be necessary,” Creighton assured. “I’m fine.”
    â€œSuit yourself,” Sachs replied before sitting down again. “So, how can I help you?”
    â€œWe need to speak to you about an employee of yours—Michael Barnwell,” Marjorie announced.
    â€œBarnwell?” Sachs placed the cigar between his lips and took a few nervous puffs. “What do you need to know about him?”
    â€œHis wife reported him missing. We need to know the last time you saw him.” Marjorie conveniently omitted anything to do with Veronica Carter and the body they had found in the cellar.
    â€œSaw him? Saw him … saw him …” he repeated as if it were a magical incantation. He suddenly snapped his fingers. “Why, that would have been the day before yesterday. Came in here, jittery as can be. Mind you, Barnwell’s always wound pretty tight, but that day, he was a bundle of nerves. Didn’t even blink when I was talking to him.”
    â€œDid he say what was bothering him?” Creighton ventured.
    â€œBothering him? Bothering him … bothering him … no. He asked for some time off, which I gave him, but he didn’t say anything else. Not that he would. He never talked much about his personal life. Policies, however,” he snapped his fingers again, “that was a different story altogether. He could talk for hours—and I do mean hours—about how adding certain clauses to our policies might benefit the company. Yes, sir, he was an Allied man all right. ”
    â€œAn allied man?” Marjorie said again.
    â€œWhy, Allied Insurance Company, of course.” He smiled.
    She politely returned the smile. “Of course.”
    â€œSo I suppose it’s safe to assume that Michael is a good employee?” Creighton ventured.
    â€œGood? He’s the best claims adjustor we have—saved us thousands of dollars in false claims since he started here three years