by Kym Grosso
“Listen to me very carefully, Doctor.” The music continued to blare as he stopped dancing, his eyes locked on hers. “With or without you, I will get answers. You may have been the one who ended up in the hospital, but the party you brought to the beach that day could have killed Seth or me.”
“This isn’t my fault.” Her eyes darted over to Shane, who glared.
“I didn’t say it was, but your behavior isn’t what I’d call consistent. There’re too many holes in the story.” Lars slowly started moving again, brushing his cheek to her ear. “You almost died. You told me, ‘help me, Lars’. Now why is that?”
“I…I don’t remember.” Goddammit, she didn’t recall calling him by his name.
“That may very well be true but I think I at least deserve a few minutes of your time to talk.”
“We are talking.”
“Alone.”
“Lars…” His warm breath on her neck sent tingles over her skin, and she sucked a small breath.
“That’s it. I knew you’d say my name again.” He retreated and gave her a wink. “Dinner. Alone. Tomorrow night.”
“I can’t possibly do that.” Braelynn spied Shane struggling to leave a conversation with a chatty client.
“Why not?”
“You don’t know what you’re asking me to do. You’re going to put us in danger.” Braelynn’s eyes darted to her uncle, who made a beeline toward them.
“Tomorrow night. We can do this in secret or in the open but you owe me at least an hour of your time.”
“I said I can’t. Please.” Braelynn yanked her hand out of his, her eyes widening in terror. She didn’t want him to get hurt.
“Tell me. Did you happen to lose a key that day on the beach?” he asked, a lilt of mischief in his tone.
“What did you just say?” Braelynn’s stomach clenched at the mention of the object she’d lost. Although she’d wanted nothing more than to go search the beach, she’d decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. They were watching her, and if she’d managed by some grace of God to actually find it, they might catch her.
“A key.” He gave a sly smile, cocking an eyebrow at her. “Lose one, did you?”
“Keep your voice down,” she whispered. Taking his hand, she pulled him close. “Keep dancing.”
“Braelynn, if you need…”
“I’m going to walk away in exactly five seconds, so let me finish. I’m meeting a friend tomorrow for dinner in Mission Beach. I’ll meet you at the roller coaster at eight. Don’t be late. If I don’t see you, I’m gone.” Braelynn allowed her lips to brush his ear, and she closed her eyes, wishing she could stay in his arms all night. But it was much too dangerous to speak to Lars even one second longer. She held his gaze for a moment, then releasing him, she turned on her heels and spun away, striding across the dance floor.
“Darling,” her uncle cooed as he approached Braelynn.
“Mr. Giordano. The party is a success. Have you raised a lot of money this evening?” Nausea rose in her throat at the trill of his voice, yet she forced a bright smile.
“I see you were entertaining the guests,” he observed.
“Mr. Elliott. Apparently he’s as fond of wildlife conservation as you are.”
“Did you have much to discuss?” Shane’s baritone voice sent shivers over her arms.
“Apparently, he was the one who rescued me on the beach.”
“You don’t recall what he looked like?” Shane pressed.
“I told you before that I didn’t remember who brought me to the hospital. I, uh, I thought he looked familiar but as you both know, as soon as I regained consciousness, I refused to see anyone. You know as well as I do that I was nothing more than a Jane Doe. If I hadn’t woken up, it’s likely I’d have gone missing forever.” The truth rolled off her tongue easily. She had been unconscious with no belongings; they hadn’t been able to identify her.
“Frankly I’m surprised he didn’t contact you sooner,” her uncle observed.
“I certainly appreciate that he helped me, but Mr. Elliott is a stranger. I’m a private person. Besides, the last thing I needed during my recovery was having to deal with some guy trying to play Florence Nightingale. I’m surprised he stayed.”
“He’s probably some kind of creeper.” Shane scrunched his face in disgust.
“Exactly,” she agreed, cringing at the lie.
“Don’t you think you’re being a bit harsh?” her uncle said, smiling at a passing client.
“Perhaps.” Braelynn took a deep breath of sea air. Relief washed over her, having successfully redirected the conversation. Concealing her feelings and intent was paramount to bolstering the ruse. “I prefer to think of it as realistic. Besides, you told me he’s in bed with our competitors.”
“He probably stalked you down here,” Shane added. “It’s a public function.”
“I think you’re both getting a little paranoid,” her uncle chided. “Mr. Elliott, along with many other industry professionals in the southern California region, is simply attending tonight as a guest. And it’s a delicious coup. All are welcome. Our allies. Our competitors as well. Tonight is about making a presence. Let them take in a taste of my success and where we’re going.”
“You most certainly did. It’s a spectacular event,” Braelynn told him, stroking his ego.
“Top notch.” Shane nodded, the veins in his temple pulsing with tension.
“All right, then. Let’s get on with things. Come join me on stage, Braelynn. I want you by my side,” he declared, offering her his arm.
“Of course.” Giving a brief glance to Shane, she placed her hand on her uncle’s jacket. Sickened by both of them, the best she could do was obey and get through the next two hours. The lethal game she’d agreed to play was very near to its end.
Chapter Three
Lars watched from afar as Braelynn walked off with the older gentleman. Mogul Armand Giordano, well known for his ruthless business tactics, had recently relocated from the east coast after a congressional hearing on the environmental impacts of a new plastic technology he’d pioneered. Its use had resulted in higher levels of cancer in a rural town of Pennsylvania, and his ethics had been called into question. While he was never indicted, his company’s stock had plummeted.
Lars focused in on the powerhouse bodyguard, who towered above Braelynn. His burly hand brushed over her shoulder blade, and she glared at her unwanted suitor. Holding Giordano’s arm, Braelynn appeared to be close with him as he led her up to the podium. Lars’ gut clenched, his mind rolling through the possibilities of the nature of their relationship. Lovers? His mistress?
His fleeting concern dissipated after watching their interaction. As she released his arm, a flicker of relief shone in her eyes. It lasted but for a second, quickly replaced by irritation as she glanced to Shane. Giordano tapped the microphone, and she recovered, a too-perfect smile frozen on her face.
When they’d danced earlier, Lars had sensed her fear, and wondered about the source of it. He suspected her trepidation arose from fraternizing in front of her boss, Giordano, but she never once faltered as she played the role of the appreciative employee. An actress, he suspected, giving applause on cue as the greedy bastard bestowed accolades on donors in the crowd.
A familiar face caught his attention, and he made a beeline for Garrett, who glared at the stage. Both he and their friend and fellow skydiver, Chase, stood attentively watching Giordano’s speech.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Lars hadn’t meant to sound so aggressive, but failed to hide his surprise. Garrett had testified against Giordano, and he knew there was no way Emerson Industries was doing business with him.
“Enjoying the sea air at this fine San Diego fundraiser. You?” Garrett raised his glass and nodded. With a cold smile, he focused on Giordano.
“Looking for answers,” Lars replied, aware Garrett wouldn’t support his decision to go after Braelynn.
“I take it you didn’t find what you
were looking for.” Garrett’s eyes flashed to Chase and back to Lars.
“Why are you here?” Lars pressed.
“Friends close. Ememies closer.” Garrett gestured to the path that led out to the parking lot. “Shall we?”
“Yeah.” Lars nodded in agreement.
“This isn’t the place for this discussion.” Garrett’s lips pursed and he raised an eyebrow at Lars.
“The car.” Lars gave the stage a parting glance as he exited the lavish event. On his way down the stairs, his eyes caught Braelynn’s, and he swore he detected a faint shade of pink in her cheeks. He gave her a small smile, and continued until he reached the landing.
A black stretch limo pulled up in front of the valet stand, and a bellman reached for the door. “Sir?” He gestured to the interior.
“Let’s talk,” Garrett stated, his voice serious as he and Chase slid into the car.
“Just a minute.” Lars reached for his cell phone and texted his driver, then quickly followed his friends’ lead. As the door slammed behind him, he blew out a breath.
“Okay, would either of the two of you like to tell me what the hell is going on?”
“How well do you know Armand Giordano?” Garrett asked, reaching for a bottle of cognac. Accepting a snifter from Chase, he poured two fingers, and offered it to Lars.
“Plastic magnate. Got in deep with the feds a few years ago. Has been doing penance out here on the west coast.” Lars accepted the drink, but didn’t move to bring it to his lips. “You testified against him. He got off.”
“Emerson Industries had a conflict with Armand.” Garrett’s eyes darted to Chase who shook his head, his eyebrows narrowing in anger.
“We incorporated his supposedly safe ultra-plastics in our scuba gear. We had plans to expand their use into other products as well.” Chase wrapped his fingers around the glass Garrett had poured, and took a long draw of the mellow liquid. With a loud exhale, he continued. “Cancer.”
“He’s an asshole.” Lars’ eyes darted to each of his friends.
“Employees working with the polymer were the first casualties. People living near the production site started showing signs as well. Whatever they’d used got into the water supply. You know how it is with rural towns. People are still using well water.” Garrett paused and sighed. “He’d skimped on testing. Fudged a few studies.”
“He’s an asshole,” Chase commented with disdain.
“Doesn’t surprise me he got off, though. These douchebags get in with a few members of congress, the truth is bent,” Lars commented.
“A strong reprimand.” Garrett shrugged. “That’s it.”
“A slap on the wrist,” Chase said.
“They couldn’t definitively prove it. It was a new technology. He rushed it through approval channels. They don’t really know what other long term effects exist as of yet.” Garrett set the bottle back into its cabinet and took care to make sure it was secure.
“He greased a few palms,” Lars surmised. He plowed his fingers through his hair, tousling his neatly combed locks.
“Let’s just say he knows how to play the game in Washington. Is said to be involved with a well-known super PAC.”
“Tears down any candidates that oppose his environmental atrocities,” Chase commented.
“Alleged,” Garrett corrected.
“Whatever. You know how it’s done. Candidates who support his causes, they get the money.”
“He reached out and touched a few someones. That coupled with a lack of airtight evidence…”
“But clearly he wasn’t untouched? His stock took a nosedive,” Lars said.
“But as you saw tonight, he’s recovering well. Thriving in sunny San Diego.”
“So what…you’re making sure he knows he’s still being watched?” Lars shifted in his seat.
“I don’t want him getting too comfortable in our town.” Garrett brought the rim to his lips, and paused. “But what I’d like to know is what you were doing there.”
“You know why.” Lars set the glass into a cup holder, and tugged his bow tie loose. “And before you say anything, I already made a decision about this. You know I respect you, G, but I need resolution.”
“She works for that bastard,” Chase spat at him.
“Yes, it appears she does. But that doesn’t mean she has anything to do with his unethical business practices,” Lars countered.
“You talked to her tonight.” Garrett glanced at Chase, his expression somber.
“What the hell difference does it make if I choose to see her?” Lars knew Garrett well enough to know that his friend wasn’t interfering without purpose. A mastermind of secrets, he was probably planning a corporate takeover and didn’t want Lars involved. “There’s no direct conflict. I don’t work for you.”
“This isn’t about Emerson Industries,” Chase interrupted. “You can’t tell me you haven’t done a cursory investigation on her. There’s rumors…some of her research was called into question last year. It wasn’t reported in the papers but if you ask around, it’s easy enough to find out.”
“Of course I did.” Lars rolled his eyes, and sighed. “Have I uncovered some information about her? Yes. And yeah, I heard a few things mentioned about her research but seriously, none of it was substantiated. I pulled up the journal articles myself. It’s not like they’ve been pulled from the online registries. And you know what that tells me?”
“What, Sherlock?’ Chase asked.
“It tells me that it’s not true. It tells me that someone out there maliciously attacked her reputation through online groups. It could be anyone. Now why they did it is yet another question in this mystery.” Lars noted Garrett’s silence and continued. “And before you say another word, this is a mystery. No one found the shooters. I’m convinced she lied to the police. She says she can’t remember anything. Come on, man. I am not buying any of this.”
“Maybe it’s because the woman is a liar. Maybe she got in with some bad people. Did you ever think that she’s tied up with Giordano’s next scheme? Did you see her out there? He’s using her like a goddamned spokesmodel.” Garrett held up his hand and hit the intercom, quickly confirming the driver was returning to Lars’ home.
“I can’t say one way or another yet. But I do know this. I’ve been investigating, and so far, I’m noticing there are some big gaps in her job history, where she’s lived, family history, stuff like that. Places where there should be information, there isn’t any. And you know that means someone has been scrubbing her data. Who? I don’t know.”
“Again, maybe that’s on purpose. Maybe Giordano did that. He has connections. You saw her with him,” Garrett said.
“I saw, but maybe she’s just good with the clients. He’s a businessman. Look, don’t get me wrong, I’m not defending that asshole.” Lars sighed. “I’ve just started uncovering the pieces of the puzzle. Take Dean for example. He put me off for weeks after she claimed she didn’t know anything. There was an attempted murder on a beach in broad daylight. There have to be other witnesses. Clues. Why did the police give up so easily? This makes no fucking sense and you goddamn know it.”
“Maybe all this is as simple as her being as shady as Giordano,” Chase stated.
“Maybe they’re sleeping together,” Garrett added.
“I don’t know why you all are changing the subject but shit, G, we’re friends. If you can’t tell me why you’re warning me off her, I get that, but don’t try to bullshit me.” Lars suspected both Chase and Garrett were concealing information, and while he was sometimes part of whatever top secret project they were working on, clearly he was out of the loop on this one. “I get business is business, and you’ve got certain reasons for keeping your cards close to the chest. Clearances and all that shit. But I’m telling you right fucking now, I don’t care what project you have going on, and from the sounds of it, if I had to guess, you’re getting ready to take Giordano down with an anchor around his neck. But before you go hanging
Braelynn out to dry, give me a chance to find out what is going on.”
“You know I can’t tell you what we…” Garrett began.
“No.” Lars held up a silencing hand. “Something is going on with Dr. Rollins. I don’t know what yet, but I’m finding out what it is.”
He’d had enough with the diatribe. There was a reason he was the head of his own IT company. He’d graduated top of his class and had been a well-known white hat. Hacking came as easy as breathing and given he already had access to all of Emerson Industries’ files via their freshly inked outsourcing agreement, he had data at his fingertips. He knew it. Garrett knew it. Both of them also knew he’d break a thousand rules if he needed to, the same ones he’d killed to preserve. DLar-Tech represented the pinnacle of integrity and ethics, which was why he hadn’t gone through their system already. What he hadn’t told Garrett was that he’d already bent some rules, gone digging for information on Braelynn in places where he shouldn’t, and could tell someone had deliberately erased sections of her history.
“Obviously there was another reason why you guys were there tonight. Don’t know why. Don’t care. All I know is that a couple months ago, I got shot at while I was riding some waves. And the next thing I knew I was covered in someone else’s blood. You don’t just have that kind of thing happen and settle for no resolution. I tried, I really did. But I can’t let it go. I can’t say what’s going on with the doctor, but I’ll tell you this. She seems scared. And frankly, my gut tells me…now, I’ve got no proof, but I think she could still be in danger.”
“She’s not your responsibility,” Garrett pointed out.
“See, that’s where you’re wrong. I tried to tell myself that, but I just can’t do it anymore. Look, I know damn well I could wash my hands of this thing. I could…no, I probably should walk away and pretend like it all never happened. But you both know that’s not me. You can judge me if you want but you know that if the shoe were on the other foot, you’d be doing the same thing as me. I’m not looking for your help with this, but don’t get in my way. I don’t know what the hell you both are planning with Giordano and that shit company of his. You guys know that if you need me, I’m here. But leave Braelynn out of this for now.”
