Penelope gawked at him. “I don't know what you're talking about. What money? What accounts? And I've never heard of Frank Fronzo!” She took a deep breath. “You should get out of my office now. I don't know who the hell you think you are, but I'm calling the cops right now.” She snatched up the phone and started to dial.
“Put the phone down, Miss Hatfield,” John said evenly.
She felt a meaty hand squeeze the back of her neck. “Lenny can snap your neck before you can even blink,” John said.
Penelope turned around stiffly, her eyes level with Lenny's biceps. She looked up with a gulp and met a pair of black, soulless eyes.
She put the phone down slowly. “I think you got the wrong person. I really don't have what you want.”
John sighed regretfully. “You're making this hard for us, and for yourself, Miss Hatfield.”
She shook her head. “Please, you're making a mistake. I really don't...”
John gave Lenny the signal and a large hand clamped over Penelope's mouth.
She struggled and tried to bite him, but Lenny simply dragged her backwards and muffled her cries with his hard, huge hand.
Penelope watched helplessly as John and the other guy pulled out her drawers and searched through her whole office. They opened her files and notebooks, scanning through the contents and leaving papers scattering all over the floor.
“Nothing,” the other man informed John as he emptied out the last drawer.
John narrowed his eyes at Penelope. Then he said, “Get her laptop. It's in there. Check if she made copies.”
John turned to Lenny and ordered, “Get her out of here. Once we have the files, we'll get rid of her.”
Penelope fought harder as Lenny manhandled her towards the back door. “Let me go!” she wheezed. She tried to kick him but her legs only jerked uselessly in the air.
Lenny grunted as he lifted her and dumped her in the trunk of a car. She saw John and the other guy coming out of her office and walking swiftly towards the car.
John held up her laptop and shook his head at her. “You shouldn't have lied, Miss Hatfield.”
“No!” Penelope managed to scream before the trunk lid slammed down.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Damien finished his lunch in a hurry and strolled to the florist. He would get some tulips for Penelope. Tulips were her favorite, and he was going to hide her ring in the bouquet. His grin stretched wider as he patted the dainty velvet box in his pocket.
A man hurried past him, knocking into his side. Damien spun round but the man didn't stop. “Hey...”
Damien took a sharp whiff and started. He recognized the man's scent. That was the mousy-looking human man who had stepped into Penelope's office and interrupted them just as things were steaming up. He remembered thinking that the guy looked like a Doe caught in the headlights. Ben Doe, yep, that's his name. It suited him to a T, he thought.
But Mr Ben Doe looked different. Almost unrecognizable.
Damien remembered he had black hair and wore a boring pair of spectacles. But the man who had just passed him was blond, without glasses and he was wearing jeans and running shoes instead of a rumpled suit. He also moved with the speed and agility of a much younger man.
Damien sniffed the air again. The scent was unmistakably the same, but Ben Doe's appearance had changed completely.
With a frown, Damien turned round and followed the man. Something was up with the guy. No one would change their appearance so drastically in such a short time. Unless they were up to something.
“Where are you going, Mr Ben Doe?” Damien muttered. “And I bet that's not your real name.”
Damien stopped in front of a corner bakery and pretended to be interested in the pretty cupcakes on display when Ben glanced over his shoulder.
The street was reasonably busy so he could hide in plain sight. He watched Ben Doe intently, never letting him out of his sight.
Ben turned around to scan the street and Damien saw that even the color of his eyes had changed. Damien remembered they were black before. But now they were a clear blue.
“Colored contact lenses, hair dye, hmmm…” Damien mumbled to himself. “Why the disguise, Mr Doe?”
Damien followed him down another street. The crowd thinned out and Damien had to duck behind parked cars and trees in a hurry to prevent himself from being spotted.
Near the end of the street, Ben looked around surreptitiously and scooted into a small alley.
Damien tiptoed to the side of the building and flattened himself against the wall. His bear rumbled to the surface and sniffed the air. Yep, Ben Doe was in the alley. And there was someone else with him.
His bear pricked up its ears and listened. Damien stilled his breathing and let his shifter senses come to the fore. He could hear Ben speaking rapidly, and he could make out every word.
“I did what you wanted, Ian,” Ben hissed. “Where's my money?”
“I paid you already,” a deeper male voice answered smoothly.
“You paid half,” Ben snarled. “You said you'll pay me the other half when they come for the Hatfield woman. Don't fuck with me, Ian Renshaw!”
Damien eyes bugged. Ian Renshaw!
Penelope had told him all about her ex. Her face had twisted in disgust when she mentioned him to Damien. It was as if just saying the creep's name had left a vile taste in her mouth.
Ian Renshaw. That was the name of her cheating, lying ex.
Damien inched nearer to the mouth of the alley when Ben Doe began speaking again. He was talking about that Hatfield woman again.
“Penelope,” Damien hissed under his breath.
“I hid the file in her laptop. It's hidden in a folder within a folder. She wouldn't notice it, but it's not that hard to locate. I did my part. Now give me my half of the money,” Ben said threateningly.
This wasn't the same timid, fumbling man who had walked into Penelope's office. Damien regretted not staying that day to keep an eye on him. What did he hide in Penelope's laptop? A file? Did it contain a virus? Some malicious spyware? And Ian Renshaw had paid him to do it.
Whatever it was, it wasn't anything good.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Penelope groped around blindly for her glasses. Her glasses had fallen off when Lenny threw her roughly to the ground. She found them and put them on quickly. It didn't really make much difference. The room was still too dark for her to see anything.
A light came on. Penelope saw John and his two beefy henchmen enter the room and walk towards a table. John placed her laptop on the table and turned it towards her.
“Look at this, Miss Hatfield,” John said. “Mr Frank Fronzo's accounts. They're all here.”
“What accounts?” she demanded. “What are you talking about? How dare you mess with my laptop! I have all my clients' confidential data in there...”
“See for yourself.” John folded his arms and jerked his head at her laptop.
Penelope scrambled to the rickety table and squinted at her laptop screen. She pushed her glasses higher up her nose and peered at the confusing columns of numbers across the screen.
“What is this?” She shook her head. “I've never seen this before.”
John clucked his tongue and gave her a look that held both scorn and pity.
“Take a closer look, Miss Hatfield. Take all the time you need,” he said and stepped away from the table.
Penelope stared at the screen again. She was looking at a spreadsheet, with rows and rows of large, mind-boggling numbers. She had seen Ian working on these before. Ian was an accountant, and he often brought his work home. These were the very detailed and complicated accounts of some organization or company.
“I have never seen these documents in my life,” she stammered. “And I don't know what they're doing on my laptop.”
John regarded her dispassionately. “These are Mr Frank Fronzo's accounts. His other set of accounts,” he said
.
“Other? There's another set?” she squeaked. “Are you going to tell me that you've found this other set of accounts in my laptop too?”
“No. The other set of accounts have been submitted to the tax authorities. Don't play dumb, Miss Hatfield.”
Penelope reeled back as the pieces clicked into place. She didn't like the picture that she was seeing at all.
“Ian...” She took a shuddering breath and squeezed her eyes shut. “Ian Renshaw is Mr Frank Fronzo's accountant, isn't he.”
John looked bored and pissed. “Stop playing games, Miss Hatfield. You know all this. But I must say that you are a rather good actress.”
“I'm not...”
“You blackmailed my boss. You struck a deal with him, but you didn't keep your end of the bargain.”
“What?” Penelope shouted. “This is all a mistake! I have never...”
“We wrote out the check in your name. You deposited the check but you never handed over Mr Fronzo's accounts.”
“No...” She gasped and shook her head rapidly. “No! I didn't...”
“You threatened to send this set of accounts to the authorities if Mr Fronzo didn't pay you two million dollars. We did what you asked.”
Walking in a slow circle, John went on, “You know, there are two types of people that Mr Fronzo hates.” He held up two fingers. “Traitors...and liars.”
John stopped pacing abruptly and faced her. “You and Ian Renshaw betrayed Mr Fronzo's trust and lied to him. Death—is too good for you, Miss Hatfield.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Penelope clutched the edge of the table so she wouldn't drop to the ground in a heap. Ian Renshaw! The bastard.
She knew what Ian had done.
Ian Renshaw had set her up to take the fall.
He had prepared two sets of accounts for Mr Frank Fronzo, who by the look of things, wasn't such an honest businessman himself. Mr Fronzo and his accountant, Ian Renshaw, inflated his expenses and losses to make sure that Mr Fronzo paid hardly any tax at all.
The books which had been cooked to perfection were submitted to the tax authorities while the raw, real accounts were given to Frank Fronzo. But Ian had saved a copy of the accounts. And he told Mr Fronzo that he would send this very detailed and accurate set of accounts to the authorities if Frank Fronzo didn't pay him two million dollars, which was a mere fraction of the tax that Frank Fronzo should have paid.
But Ian didn't use his name for this shady, nefarious transaction. He used Penelope's.
She had opened a joint account with him a long time ago and forgotten all about it. She didn't have any money in the account and she forgot to close the account. Ian used her name to blackmail Frank Fronzo. The two million was deposited into their joint account under her name and Ian simply withdrew the money and threw her to the wolves. Frank Fronzo clearly wasn't a man to be trifled with. Frank was out for blood and Ian Renshaw, the heartless, scheming bastard, made sure he got Penelope's blood.
“How could he...” Penelope punched the table, tears blurring her vision. She couldn't believe that Ian wanted her dead. To think that she had once loved him and hoped to marry him. Ian had never loved her, she knew that now. But she never thought that he would go so far as to frame her. He was going to walk away with his millions and leave her to pay for his crimes—with her life.
How could he do this? How could she have spent years with this monstrous man? How could she have been such a fool?
“Where are the other copies?” John asked coldly, pointing to her laptop. “You must have saved a copy in a flash drive somewhere.”
“No! I have nothing to do with this!” she screamed. “Ian Renshaw did all this! He blackmailed your boss, and he framed me! He did everything! You should go after Ian, not me!”
John narrowed his eyes. “Ian's gone.”
“So find him!” Penelope shrieked. “And leave me alone. I don't have your money, and I don't know what your accounts are doing on my laptop! I don't know how they got there...”
She stopped suddenly, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh, oh. That...that coffee! It's that damn coffee!”
She slapped her forehead and cursed. “I know how that file got on my laptop,” she said grimly. “It's that goddamn coffee! I went to get him a coffee and he loaded this file on my laptop.” She laughed harshly. “Mr Ben Doe, yeah I remember his name. He even spilled his coffee all over my desk to distract me. It's him. I know it.”
Penelope looked up at John. “Ben Doe and Ian Renshaw. They're in this together. Find them! They have your boss's money. I am innocent! You've got to believe me!”
John didn't even look at her. Penelope gulped painfully. He obviously didn't believe a word she said. It was just her word against the evidence that was found on her laptop. Evidence that Ben Doe had planted.
“P-please...give me some time,” she said, trying to think of something, anything that would save her life. “I...I'll find Ian Renshaw. I'll find him and you'll see that I'm telling the truth.”
“I think you've wasted enough of our time, Miss Hatfield. Mr Fronzo doesn't like to be kept waiting.” John signaled his two henchmen forward. “Bag her.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Damien jerked when his phone buzzed noisily in his pocket. “Shit!” he cursed, grabbing the phone and jabbing at it angrily. Ian and Ben stopped talking in the alley. They'd heard him.
“What?” Damien barked into the phone. “You've got real bad timing, man.”
“Penelope's gone!” Graham yelled into his ear.
“What?”
“I stopped by her office and the place is a mess! Someone ransacked the whole office! I can't find her. I followed her scent out to the back. Someone took her, Damien!”
“Where are you now?” Damien growled.
“In her office,” Graham said. “I'm going to call the Sheriff...”
“No. Don't call anyone, yet. Just...stay there. I think I can get some answers right now.” Damien clicked off and walked straight into the alley. It was a dead end so there was nowhere for Ian and Ben to go. They pretended to be lounging aimlessly against the wall as Damien stalked towards them.
Ben Doe might have changed his hair and eye color, but he was still a puny little man. Ian Renshaw was taller, but still a few inches shorter than Damien. He was in jeans and had a cap pulled over his eyes. Damien walked right up to him and yanked the cap off.
“Hey!” Ian shouted. “What do you think...”
“What did you do to Penelope?” Damien said, slamming him against the wall.
Ian coughed and choked, but Damien only tightened his grip around his throat. Ben began to inch away, hoping to make his escape but Damien grabbed him before he could run and threw him to the ground.
Ben whimpered when Damien's boot came down hard on his chest. “What the fuck did you do to Penelope? Where is she now?” Damien roared.
Ian opened his mouth and seemed to be trying to speak so Damien loosened his hold just a little. “Who are you?” Ian sputtered. “You're fucking crazy! I'll have you arrested...”
“You won't talk?” Damien let his claws slice out. “Maybe you won't mind losing an eye. Or maybe I should claw out your tongue, you fucking liar!”
Damien dragged his claws down Ian's face and forced his mouth open. He pushed the tip of his claw into the man's gums and watched his mouth fill with blood.
Damien made the bastard swallow his own blood and grabbed him by the hair. “Tell me where she is,” he snarled. “Last chance to speak. After this, you won't be able to speak at all. I'll make you eat your own tongue, you piece of shit.”
Ian covered his mouth with his hand in terror. “I don't have her,” he said in a rush. “Frank's men must have taken her away.”
“Frank?” Damien shook him hard. “Who the hell is Frank? Why would Frank take Penelope?”
“Because...of the accounts.” Ian grimaced. “And the money.”
Da
mien grabbed Ian and Ben and pushed his claws into their chins. “Don't fuck with me.”
“No, no, I'm telling you the truth! Frank Fronzo would have sent his men to get her. I let them know where to find her...”
“You got Ben to hide something in her laptop,” Damien said slowly. “This is a frame-up, isn't it?”
“I planned it perfectly. She goes down, I go free!” Ian looked at Damien and said earnestly, “Listen, I'll give you half the amount. I don't know why you're poking your nose into Penelope's business but let me tell you this. She ain't worth it. Take the money, man. One million bucks! It's yours!”
“Shut up!” Damien roared.
His phone started to buzz again. Damien stared at the two men and saw that there was only one thing to do. He banged their heads together and knocked them both out at the same time. Dropping the two scumbags on the ground, he fished his phone out of his pocket and answered the call.
It was his cousin, Reid. “Where are you? Lunch break is over! You're supposed to be back at the work site...” Reid scolded.
“Penelope's in trouble.”
“What do you need?” Reid said immediately.
“I need a ride.” Damien nudged the two unconscious men with his boot and said, “I have a delivery to make.”
His cousin didn't ask any further questions. “Tell me where you are. I'll be there in five minutes.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Damien glanced at his watch as his cousin's car rounded the corner on squealing tires. Not bad. Five minutes and forty-eight seconds.
Reid pulled his car to a screeching halt as soon as he spotted Damien.
“Come on, we've got to load the trash in your trunk,” Damien said as Reid ran towards him.
“How many?” was all Reid said.
“Two.”
Reid nodded and followed Damien into the alley. Damien threw Ian over his shoulder and Reid picked Ben up. They threw the two humans into the trunk and slammed the lid.
Dating Agency Bear: BBW Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (BRIDES fur BEARS Book 6) Page 6
