“Yeah, that was my first reaction, too,” Clare said. “I was sure that Archer put him up to it for devious reasons but Jake swears that’s not the situation.”
“Do you believe him?”
“He made the invitation by phone. You know I can’t trust my senses unless I am face-to-face with the person. Guess I’ll find out the truth tonight.”
“You know, this is all very interesting.”
“I certainly thought so.”
“I wouldn’t have thought that Jake Salter was your type.”
“Who knows what my type is?”
“Okay, there is that,” Elizabeth admitted. “Take notes tonight. I’ll want a full report in the morning.”
“Of course.”
“Did you find out what Dad wanted?”
“He plans to establish a charitable foundation. He wants me to run it.”
“You’re kidding. He hasn’t said a word about a foundation. Wonder if Mom knows.”
“He told me that the only person he’s discussed it with is Owen.”
“Well, that’s not surprising,” Elizabeth said. “After all their years together in business, he trusts Owen’s opinion on anything involving money.”
Clare started down the long aisle between rows of parked cars, trying to recall the precise color of her new rental. It was some silvery gray shade that was both exquisitely neutral and completely forgettable. Why didn’t they paint rental cars shocking pink or emerald green so you would remember them and locate them in alien parking garages?
“I’m not sure what the driving force is behind Archer’s decision to establish a foundation,” she said into the phone. “Like a lot of wealthy people, he probably thinks it’s a great way to be able to control his fortune even after he’s gone.”
“Sounds like Dad.”
“If that’s the case, I’ve got some bad news for him. A charitable trust or foundation has a way of taking on a life and an agenda of its own after the founder has passed.”
“Maybe he thinks he can control the future if he puts you in charge.”
“Maybe,” Clare said. She spotted a familiar-looking compact and started toward it.
“What are you going to do?” Elizabeth asked.
“My first inclination was to say not only no, but hell no.”
“Naturally,” Elizabeth said drily.
“Appointing me the director of his foundation is his way of making up for what happened in the past. That bothers me on some deep level.”
“That’s your pride talking.”
“I realize that. And after spending the past two hours doing some serious retail therapy and running myself deeper into the black hole of credit card debt, I’ve had some second thoughts.”
“Clare, that’s wonderful. I love the idea of you running the Glazebrook Foundation.”
“Not about taking the director’s job,” Clare said hastily. “I know that wouldn’t work. Archer and I would be at loggerheads every minute. But I’m thinking of setting up my own security consulting agency.”
“Really?”
“I’ll tell you about it later. But if I do go out on my own, the Glazebrook Foundation could be my first client.”
“Okay, that works,” Elizabeth said. Enthusiasm vibrated in her words. “Either way, you’ll be spending a lot more time down here in Arizona. We’ll be able to see more of each other.”
“I like that part, too,” Clare agreed.
She stopped in front of the silvery gray compact she had been closing in on. The upholstery was blue. She was pretty sure it should have been beige.
“Damn,” she said.
“What’s wrong?” Elizabeth asked.
“I’ve lost my car. There are a zillion silver cars in this place.”
“Light colors are popular for cars in Arizona,” Elizabeth said. “They reflect the heat. You know, if you’re having dinner with Jake tonight it means you’ll be here tomorrow.”
“I told Archer I’d stick around for forty-eight hours.”
“Fantastic. Let’s do the spa thing tomorrow afternoon. It’s short notice but I’m sure I can get us into the Stone Canyon Spa.”
Clare did not doubt that for a moment. Very few people in Stone Canyon said no to a Glazebrook.
“Sounds great,” she said.
“Call me in the morning with that report on your big date,” Elizabeth reminded her, and ended the call.
Clare dropped the phone back into her purse and started down another aisle of almost identical vehicles.
She wondered if she was on the wrong floor. Belatedly it dawned on her that there was an unlocking device attached to the key chain the rental agency had given her.
She fished around inside her purse again and came up with the keys. She punched the unlock button.
Two-thirds of the way down the aisle in which she was standing, taillights flashed in response.
“About time,” she muttered.
Clutching the shopping bags and her purse, she hurried forward.
A car engine revved violently in the shadows behind her. Unease trickled through her. She had not noticed anyone in this section of the garage. It was unnerving to realize that there was someone in the vicinity and she had not been aware of it. This was how innocent people got mugged in parking garages, she thought. They failed to pay attention to their surroundings.
Calm down. Whoever he is, he’s in a car. He’s not trying to sneak up on you. He’s just heading for the exit.
The vehicle’s engine roared.
She glanced back over her shoulder.
A massive, late-model SUV was bearing down on her. Behind the heavily tinted windows, the driver’s face was only a dark silhouette.
Shock flashed through her. The SUV was not slowing down. The driver evidently didn’t see her. Probably had his sunglasses on in preparation for heading out into the intense midday light. Or maybe the idiot was talking on the phone.
The possibilities flashed through her mind in an oddly serene, orderly manner, as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening; as if she were not standing directly in the path of an oncoming vehicle.
“Oh, shit.”
Adrenaline kicked in. Instinctively, she tightened her grip on the shopping bags and purse and rushed toward the side of the aisle.
The SUV abruptly swerved toward her, as though in pursuit.
Teens gone bad, she thought.
She dropped the bags and flung herself into the narrow crevasse between two parked cars, fetching up hard against a fender. The vehicle’s alarm went off, blasting her eardrums.