Free Honeymoon by James Patterson, Howard Roughan Page A

problem."
     
     
----
Chapter 31
     
HE KIND OF
sounded
like an insurance man, but he didn't
     
really
look
like one to Nora.
     
For starters, she noticed that he wasn't that bad a dresser.
     
The tie matched the suit, and the suit had actually been in
     
style sometime during this decade.
     
Another thing was that he had a nice personality. The
     
few insurance guys she'd met before seemed to have about
     
as much charisma as a cardboard box. In fact, all things
     
considered, Craig Reynolds was an attractive man. Nicely
     
put together. He also drove a pretty good car. Then again,
     
thought Nora, this was Briarcliff Manor, not the East Bronx.
     
To manage the field office for a big insurance company in
     
this neck of the woods, you'd kind of have to look the part.
     
Still, she wasn't about to let her guard down.
     
She'd been watching Craig Reynolds carefully and making
     
mental notes -- from the moment he first showed up to
     
when he wrapped his hands around his coffee mug and an-
     
nounced that there was "a little bit of a problem" with Con-
     
nor's policy.
     
"What sort of problem?" she asked.
     
"Ultimately, I don't think it will be much of one at all.
     
The thing is, because of Mr. Brown's relatively young age,
     
they've decided to investigate the claim."
     
"Who's
they?
"
     
"The home office back in Chicago. They basically call
     
the shots."
     
"You don't have any say in the matter?"
     
"Not too much in this case. As I mentioned, Mr. Brown's
     
policy originated in our corporate division, which is run
     
from the home office. Who services it, however, is based on
     
proximity to the client. Meaning, if it wasn't for the pending
     
investigation, I'd be the one handling everything."
     
"So if you're not, who is?"
     
"I haven't been told yet, but if I had to guess, it's going to
     
be a man by the name of John O'Hara."
     
"Do you know him?"
     
"Only by reputation."
     
"Uh-oh."
     
"What?"
     
"When you said that, you frowned a little."
     
"No, it's no big deal. Supposedly, O'Hara's a hard-ass --
     
pardon my language -- but that's par for the course with an
     
insurance investigator. From what I can tell, this should be
     
a routine inquiry."
     
As Craig Reynolds reached for his coffee again, Nora
     
made another mental note: no wedding band.
     
"How do you like the vanilla hazelnut?" she asked.
     
"Tastes even better than it smells."
     
She sat back in her chair. Having already turned off her
     
tears, she gave Craig Reynolds a pleasant smile. He came
     
across as caring and thoughtful. Better yet, she noticed that
     
when he smiled back at her, his cheeks produced a cute pair
     
of dimples.
Too bad he doesn't have any money.
     
Not that Nora was complaining. From where she was
     
sitting, Craig Reynolds the insurance man was worth $1.9
     
million. It was a windfall she wasn't about to turn down. The
     
only wrinkle was the investigation. Routine as it sounded, it
     
made her nervous.
     
But not overly so. She had a very good plan, and it was
     
made to hold up to scrutiny. By the police, by the coroner's
     
office, by the likes of anyone or anything that might stand
     
in her way. And that certainly included an insurance inves-
     
tigation.
     
Just the same, after Craig Reynolds left the house that af-
     
ternoon, she decided it might be a good idea to make herself
     
scarce for the next few days. She was supposed to see Jeffrey
     
that weekend anyway. Maybe she'd go up a day early and
     
surprise him.
     
He was, after all, her husband.
     
     
----
Chapter 32
     
THE NEXT MORNING, a Friday, Nora walked out of the
     
house in Westchester and popped open the trunk of her
     
Benz convertible parked in front. In went her suitcase. The
     
weatherman on TV had promised nothing but blue skies
     
and sun with the temperature reaching a high of eighty. A
     
"top-down day" if there ever was one.
     
Nora pressed the button on her keyless remote