Private Scandals

against his temple. “No problem. Do you want to come in?”
    “Thank you. Mr. Hyatt,” Jenner began, “did you relay a message to Miss Reynolds at approximately three o’clock this afternoon?”
    “Yeah. Why?” Wincing, Jeff continued to massage his temple. “Jesus. Can we sit down? I’ve got this monster headache.” He turned into the living area. The furnishings were straight out of a catalogue. Matching tables, matching chairs, twin lamps, a soulless, practical suite favored by uninspired bachelors or newlyweds on a strict budget. Only Jeff sat.
    “You told her I called?”
    “Sure I did.” Jeff’s smile was cautious. His eyes were wary. “Your assistant said to tell Dee you had this meeting and were planning on getting home early.”
    “You didn’t talk to Mr. Riley?” Jenner demanded.
    “No. I thought it was kind of weird that the call came through my office, but when I went to tell Dee, I saw that she and Cassie were all involved. Dee was getting her wedding dress fitted. She looked incredible.”
    “Why did you leave the office early?”
    “This headache. I haven’t been able to ditch it all day. It makes it hard to concentrate. Listen.” He stood again, obviously impatient and bewildered. “What’s this all about? Is it some kind of crime to deliver a phone message?”
    “What time did you leave the office?”
    “Right after I talked to Dee. I came home—well, I went to the store first, picked up some more heavy-duty aspirin. I thought if I laid down awhile . . .” His voice trailed off. “Something’s happened to Dee.” As if his legs wouldn’t support him, he lowered slowly to the couch again. “Oh my God. Is she hurt?”
    “She hasn’t been seen since she left the office,” Jenner told him.
    “Oh God. Jesus. Have you talked to Tim? Didn’t he drive her home?”
    “We’re unable to locate Mr. O’Malley.”
    On a shaking breath, Jeff rubbed his hands over his face. “It wasn’t a message from your assistant, was it, Finn? I didn’t ask any questions. I wasn’t paying attention.” His jaw quivered when he dropped his hands again. His eyes were dark with an emotion disguising itself as fear. “All I could think about was getting home and going to bed. I just said, sure, I’ll tell her. And I did.”
    “I don’t believe you.” Finn didn’t move a muscle, but the words cracked toward Jeff like a slap. “You’re a meticulous man, Jeff. That’s how Deanna describes you.” And the minutes were ticking away. “Why would you, with everything that’s been going on, pass along a half-baked message like that?”
    “It was supposed to be from you,” Jeff shot back. The way Finn studied him, as if he could see all the secrets swimming in his brain, put Jeff on edge. “Why wouldn’t I pass it along?”
    “Then you won’t mind if we go through the house.” Finn turned to Jenner. “Through every inch of it.”
    “You think I—” Jeff snapped his mouth shut, pushed himself from the couch. “Go ahead,” he said to both men. “Search it. Go through every room. I want you to.”
    “We appreciate your cooperation, Mr. Hyatt. It would be best if you came with us while we do.”
    “Fine.” Jeff stood for a moment, staring at Finn. “I know how you feel about her, and I guess I can’t really blame you for this.”
    They went through every room, searching through closets, cupboards, through the garage, where Jeff’s undistinguished sedan was parked. It took less than twenty minutes.
    Finn noted the tidy, practical furnishings, the well-pressed, practical clothes. As a director for a number-one show, he’d be well compensated financially. And Finn could see that he sure as hell wasn’t spending any money on himself.
    Just what, he wondered, was Jeff Hyatt saving his pennies for?
    “I wish she was here.” Jeff felt a quick, gleeful surge as they walked past the bookcase. “At least she’d be safe. I want to help. I want to do something. We can start with the press. We can get national coverage. By morning we’ll have everyone in the country looking for her. Everybody knows her face.” He looked beseechingly at Finn. “Someone will see her. He can’t keep her locked in a tower somewhere.”
    “Wherever he has her”—Finn never took his eyes off Jeff’s—“I’ll find her.”
    Without a backward glance, Finn strode out of the house. Seconds later, the sound of his engine roared.
    “I can’t blame him,” Jeff muttered. He looked toward