by Pinki Parks
“I know this isn’t something you’d like known and I haven’t told any of our colleagues about it…” Lila hushed then her eyes really beaded with tears, “But they want a meeting with today at three thirty sharp to hear your side of the story… and a prosecutor is going there too.”
Keisha slowly let out a tense breath and closed her eyes for a moment, “Thank you for your discretion, Lila. And please, don’t take this too hard. It will work out. They already informed me about it and it’s under control.”
Lila seemed to deflate like a popped balloon. She had gotten so tense with holding Keisha’s secret that the young woman been moved to worried tears.
“They’re not going to lock you up?” Lila asked.
"Not if I have anything to do with it," Keisha replied firmly, "Relax, it's all under control. We'll find out who did this and lock them up. Please, put it out of your mind and pretend that this hasn't happened. Go about your day like normal, okay. I promise you, it will be okay."
Lila’s still worried wide eyes searched hers for a moment before she came to the conclusion that it was only best to trust her employer. Nodding with her now found assurance Lila took off her glasses and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
Straightening up she nodded with a level look on her face, “I understand, y- you’ll work it, I know you will.”
Gifting the worried girl with another assuring smile Keisha ushered the frumpy cardigan-clad young woman out, "…Lila, remind me to take you shopping one of these days."
The tension broke then and Lila smiled, “I will certainly take you up on that offer.”
Back in her office Keisha sank heavily into her desk chair and sighed, great, so goddamn great. Her secret was out.
Taking a moment to regroup she shot a look at the clock, it was five minutes to nine. She’d better get some sustenance inside her if she was to be on top of her game with the lawyers.
Rifling through her desk she took out the menu of a local health fool catering service and had Lila order her breakfast. That done she went to distract herself by actually doing some work.
The time seemed to crawl and by the time it got to three Kiesha was on edge. Nevertheless, she didn't show it and in coordinated grace, Keisha packed up and left the company with only a single knowing nod to Lila.
Exactly seventeen minutes later she pulled up the towering steel and glass building of Anderson and Associates and left the car with her poker face on and went straight inside.
She bypassed the reception desk without a glance as she knew exactly where she needed to be; fifth floor, room eighteen. The elevator whisked her up to her destination sooner than she liked and then she was knocking on the golden embossed door of Leighton Anderson, her lawyer.
"Come in, Ms. Al-Habar, its open." Leighton's deep baritone said as he opened the thick wood of the door.
Steeling herself Keisha walked in to see her lawyer and a secretary, armed with a recorder, a paper pad, and ready pen, ready and waiting for her. Also, with them was a platinum blond woman who looked like she was straight out of GQ magazine but the no-nonsense air she had practically screamed ‘lawyer'.
‘Let’s get this dog and pony show on the road then,’ She thought as she approached the two.
Leighton's dark grey eyes met hers. "Hello Ms., Al-Habar, please have a seat. This is Kristen Jackson; she is the prosecution on this case. At first, the District Attorney's office had requested an audience at the station but I managed to have it done here."
“Thank you,” She replied succinctly and then sat in the padded chair, “Let’s get this over with.”
“Okay,” Leighton said, “First of all, the primary charge leveled against you is just conspiracy of money laundering but since the investigation is still going on you aren’t formally charged. We need to have you give your statement, and then we’ll move from there.”
“Alright,” Keisha nodded, “I understand.”
"Good," Leighton said reaching over to press ‘record' on the silver device, "Date is August twelfth, two thousand and seventeen, in the office of Anderson and Associates. Present are myself, Leighton Anderson and a paralegal clerk Ashley Wright, Kristen Jackson, the prosecution from the District Attorney's Office and the accused Ms. Keisha Al-Habar who is to address the matter of an illegal money laundering account allegedly operated under her name. Ms. Al-Habar, please state your name."
Keisha smoothly enounced her name as clearly as she could.
"Good," Kristen said evenly, "Ms. Al-Habar, could you please recount the date of June 13, 2012, at the premises of the Bank of America on 210 E Trade Street Charlotte?"
"I cannot because I wasn't there," Keisha said smoothly. "My identity was stolen and an illegal account was made under my name. I only came to the realization when the FBI showed up at my doorstep a day ago."
“Very well,” Kristen said, “Let’s move on.”
Three hours and forty-seven minutes later had Keisha almost staggering into a local bar with the sole desire of getting a stiff scotch to erase the past few hours from her mind.
The statement taking had only taken an hour but at Leighton's request, she had stayed back as he coached her to on what might happen further. Until she was formally booked she had to watch her steps and not talk to anyone no matter who they claimed to be.
The dim bar had just the ambiance she needed; dark and mysterious enough to afford her anonymity.
Again, the predominant thought that was always running through her head came back again, with even stronger force; what the hell was going on? In less than three days her carefully structured life was now a speeding train running helter-skelter off course and maybe heading for a cliff’s side.
Ordering and receiving a tall Johnnie Walker's bottle of the amber liquid bottle and a shot-glass Keisha poured some and shot the whole thing back in one gulp. She then pinched her nose as the burn faded into her stomach.
Despondent, she filled the glass again….and again…and again.
“… You know, we have to stop meeting like this.” A low smoky voice said as a now familiar body settled itself beside her.
Keisha felt low and dark humor fill her chest then she twisted her head to him and squinted, “Did you put a tracer on me or something because I’m pretty sure you’re following me.”
Hunter eyed her as he gestured to the bartender, “I sense that a part of you would like that but no, this is, as before, pure coincidence. May I ask why you’re drinking yourself into a coma? Corona, please.”
“Uh, I don’t know, probably because I’m acutely aware of the fact that someone is out there laughing their ass off at my expense and that my reputation is going to be tarnished for life and after this is done, if I’m not marinating in a six by six prison cell that the only thing I can use my credit for is to buy a Big Mac?” Keisha snorted while fingering the bottle.
"Oh, and aside from that, how about the fact that my life is about to be ruined and my company, the one I worked for with blood and tears, is going to be ripped away from me; is there any other reason why I shouldn't drink myself into one?" Keisha drawled, each word loaded with sarcasm and swallowed another shot.
She reached out and filled the tiny crystal once more, “Oh and I forgot, today, I was called in at my lawyer’s office to give a statement. That was the icing on the cake.”
Hunter sighed and forehead was wrinkled a bit, “Well, the DA is quick on stuff like this and I bet it must be some eager brownnoser trying to make a name for himself, even though the investigation is still going on.”
“It’s a woman actually and she’s no brownnoser,” Keisha replied dimly while feeling her palm itching to reach over and smooth his forehead out. “How are you with that, anyway?” Keisha asked dully.
Hunter shot her a look, a look which Keisha held until he broke it. “You know as well as I do that I can’t tell you that.”
“Bullshit.” Keisha snorted while reaching for the bottle, “Since
when are you the one to follow rules?”
Hunter gifted her with a wry smile and shifted closer to the point that their forearms were so close to touching, a move which made Keisha suck in a silent breath.
“I do follow rules… sometimes. I’m not all that insubordinate you know.”
“Could ‘a fooled me,” Keisha mumbled while forcing her attention back to the empty glass before her. “Will you just tell me anyway?”
The small clink of Hunter’s Corona’ bottle on the table was met with a sigh and Keisha didn’t move her eyes from the paler skin that was almost resting against hers.
"Don't let this slip… the paper trail is going cold," Hunter said almost silently, "We know that the money is deposited and every three months the bank receives a letter authorizing an express encashment to another account which is controlled by a company named Ares Inc… which is based in Greece. What we are trying to get the source of the funds and we suspect that Ares is a front that funnels the money back to the US. We're still trying to get more from Ares Inc but until then..."
She then pushed the bottle away and fell forward with her head framed by her head in hand with her fingers digging into her hair. "Until then I'm screwed."
Her heart nearly stopped when Hunter large hand closed over hers and the level of low humming energy that settled into her made goosebumps lift on her skin.
Her head shot up and met his eyes which were no less than five inches away from hers. This close his green eyes seemed to glow with a lit fire, now unsure if she really is innocent or guilty as hell, he hid his suspicion well “Listen to me, if you let this get to you half the battle is already lost. We will get to the bottom of this, just trust us...”
The soft breaths of his words ghosted over Keisha’s lips and she unconsciously bit her lower one. This close she didn’t miss how Hunter’s eyes flitted to her mouth then back to her eyes.
A tension, thick like the air before a thunderstorm, was instantly between them and lust, as clear as daylight was in Hunter’s eyes. Her heart was in her throat and her lips slipped open just as the man repeated, “…Just trust us.”
How she found her voice Keisha didn’t know but when she did, it came out very thick, “I will.”
Hunter's head didn't move for a long while and hazel and green eyes met. Both orbs held the same emotion; deep-seated attraction but even with the level of lust simmering between them they managed to pull away.
Both turned back to their drinks with tension high in each body. “So, um, how long do you think that’s going to take, to get the financial records I mean?”
“Our tech monkeys are working hard but we haven’t gotten a timeline.” Admirably, Hunter’s voice was steadier then hers was and Keisha had to admire that. “But we will get them and by the way, I’m cutting you off.” He finished while reaching out and calling the bartender to take the bottle of scotch away, “A glass of water, and keep them coming.”
Keisha playfully narrowed her eyes at him, “Killjoy.”
Chapter 4
It wasn’t noticeable but the left foot of Detective Hunter Blake was tapping an annoyed tattoo on the floor under his desk as he waited for the damn phone on his desk to ring.
The Charlotte-Mecklenburg PD officer was agitatedly waiting for the call to tell him what exactly Ares Inc was, and with every moment that passed his glaring at the silent black landline increased. Oh, how he wanted to smash the goddamn thing into the wall.
“If you glare at it anymore it might just burst into flames.” An amused voice, accented with a chuckle, said from behind him. “What happened? Did it jump up and bite you in the face or something?”
"Go to hell Frank," Hunter nearly snarled while pushing up from his chair as he swiftly meandered around cluttered desks and blue-clad officers towards the coffee machine in a corner.
God knew he hated this stuff but its artificial acrid taste was the best thing to cancel the natural one in the back of his throat. The reason for his disgust; five days had gone since he had been placed on the Al-Habar’s case and up to this present moment he had found nothing; nada, zero- zilch.
Every lead they he had followed, even the ones graciously given from her lawyer’s office, had fizzled out into thin air. Hunter had gone through and double checked almost everyone that had the means and motive to frame Keisha. Her accountant was clear, her building manager was clear and even her grocery courier service was clear, leaving him with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, was she that good? His detective mind didn’t let it pass, as he had seen many pretend to be absolutely innocent but were in fact, the mastermind behind it all.
He was getting nowhere which amounted to losing and if there was anything the sharp-eyed twenty-eight-year-old despised it was losing.
The only solid lead they had to go on was the company called Ares Inc in Greece, which he was a hundred percent sure had a link back to somewhere in the good old USA.
But up to now the tech monkeys that were assigned to the ferreting the damn thing out, were still not giving him anything and that irritated him.
Other cops skirted him because they all knew that look on his face; it was the one where he wanted to put his fist through something, and that something was probably the bastard who was framing Keisha. Glaring darkly into his cup he had to force out a low sardonic chuckle, Keisha.
God, she was something else.
The moment she had answered the door in her bathrobe, a slinky slip of nothing that barely hid her body, Hunter had known there was much more to the young billionaire than expected.
When she had come out of her bedroom a few moments later he had expected the smooth confident hip rolling walk and the collected air she graced them with. A woman in her position had a lot to be comfortable with.
The figure her flattering clothes presented hadn't passed him either. Her top hadn't hidden her perky rounded breasts that obviously weren't held up by a bra and her jeans hugged her narrow waist, curved hips, and plump backside beautifully.
Her hair was an attractive mess around her shoulders and her golden skin tone seems to both absorb and reflect the light from above. But, if there was one thing about her that grabbed his attention, it was her eyes.
Her hazel orbs were steady and didn't flinch when she heard what was against her. In a complete opposition to the natural reaction or panic, they took on an analytical light, one that meant she was calculating every possible option. That had scored some points in his book.
She had taken all the information in stride and responded to all her questions with a cool, collected and seemingly detached demeanor, which would make any cop who was worth his salt suspicious.
Another thing that was suspicious was that she hadn’t looked at him much. When she did, it was with a fleeting glance that shifted away in less than three seconds.
It was only after five minutes inside he realized that she was deliberately not looking at him that meant that either he reminded her of someone she loved, missed or hated or… she was fighting attraction.
Hedging on the assumption of attraction he was proved right after she had called him out on his cynicism he saw the tiny flare in her nostrils and the slight flush on her skin.
Oh, she was aroused alright but what shot her points through the roof was her iron clad control… that held up until they parted at the door. Her posture, look and tone all screamed what was going through her head and Hunter had to force himself to be professional.
As soberly as he could he warned her about not taking any chances and couldn’t hold back a grin when she blatantly told him about how she knew her way around a Glock.
Leaving, his estimate that there was much more to her than that was perceived was proven right just the next day.
He had spotted her unmistakable form leaning on the coffee joint’s serving table with her tempting backside out like a target. He would be lying if the round globes of her ass didn’t make his gut tighten but he forced himself to conce
ntrate on what she was doing.
When the server came to her with the tall cup of that particular type of coffee, he couldn't resist, "Irish Coffee… you really are a ball-buster, aren’t you?”
It was with vicious pleasure he saw her stiffen before easily accepting her foodstuff and turning to him. Her expression was cool but her eyes were dancing with mischief as she called him out.
In the next fifteen minutes, the unflappable ex-Marine had gotten a first-class seat into her psyche. The woman was indubitably brilliant. Her mind could twist and turn in new pathways at the drop of a hat and the cool and collected way she had dissected him was more of a turn on than if she had stripped naked and danced on his lap.
God damn, he wanted her and there was no doubt that behind the heavily guarded look she held she wanted the same. The night in the bar only heightened it. Her eyes were wide and open in invitation and her plump lips were a temptation that the even the most pious saint would have trouble turning away from- but he did.
Maybe it was his masochistic self that wanted the tension between them to grow to a breaking point until neither could take it anymore.
Frowning into coffee that the taste of mud he took one more sip before going back to his desk. The moment he got to the wooden desk the phone rang and he startled so hard the burning fluid scorched his hand.
“Son of a-” He grunted before snatching up the phone, “Blake.”
“Um, Detective Blake?”
Hunter didn’t even stop himself from rolling his eyes, “No, you’re connected to the sparkling tooth fairy.”
The voice cleared his throat, “Jackson from Cyber Crimes unit sir, I have something I think you’ll want to see.”
Though his initial reaction was relieved to have some sort of break, it didn’t stop him from drawling a scathing, “Finally.”
Shaking the rest of the drops from hand Hunter grabbed his jacket and his left the bustling room and took the hallway down to the air-conditioned lair of the technocrats.
Even though a hardened part of him still had its doubts about Keisha a large part of him really wanted to believe that she was innocent. As he walked his chest was building with the anticipation that they had found someone he could haul into the interrogation room to prove his desire for Keisha’s innocence was right.
