“What about Tuesday?”
“Julianne’s mom invited me to a purse party. Or maybe it was a kitchen party? I committed to it weeks ago. As much as I’d like to, I can’t cancel.” She helped herself to more bacon. “She’ll track me down with the catalog and order forms, and she knows where I live.”
He snagged the last slice of bacon before she polished it off. “But she’s probably afraid of your neighborhood, so you’ve got that working in your favor.”
She laughed, which effectively ended the disagreement without David getting his way. This was not how D/s relationships were supposed to work. He gave the orders, and she obeyed whether or not she agreed. Of course, if she let him have that much control over her at this early stage, their relationship was doomed to fail. He needed a woman who knew her own mind and who would advocate for what she wanted.
And she had a point: They’d been together for just over a week, and it was unreasonable to expect her to spend every moment with him. Jesse would be busy for the next couple days.
He called Jesse at lunch to bust his chops. “Hey, buddy. I wanted to warn you that Autumn is aware that someone has been in her apartment. That’s sloppy work to not put the envelopes and the sofa cushion back the way she had it.”
“What the fuck? I put everything back.”
“Well, she noticed things out of place. I tried to convince her that she was seeing things, but—man—she has the place set up as well as any paranoid nutjob we’ve ever run into.” He scanned lines of account data while talking.
“Wait until your girlfriend hears you called her a nutjob.” Jesse grunted. “She’s skipping lunch today. Did you not pack her anything?”
“No. Where is she?”
“The little diner around the corner. She’s with a bunch of ladies from CalderCo.”
“And she’s not eating?”
“That’s what I said. Listen, I put the mail and the cushions back exactly. She had some letters turned different ways, and I made sure to put them back exactly the way she had them. And the sofa—she had some weird fold thing she does with the cover to keep the cushions level. I put it back, David.”
It didn’t make sense. While it was unlike Jesse to mess up a search, there was no denying that her place had been disturbed. He sighed. “Why would someone else break into her place and look around?”
“Don’t know. I’ll put Dean on it.”
David agreed that they needed reinforcements. “Oh—before you go—I found a box of photographs on her dresser. How did you miss those?”
“There were no pictures anywhere. I looked in every box, drawer, and cupboard. Nada.”
She must have hidden those things in the floor as well. “Where did you find her ‘Go’ bag?”
“Upper right shelf in the closet. It was behind a bunch of stuff that looks like it belongs to Summer.”
“Okay. You’re going to have to do another search. She hides things under the floorboards. There’s one under her nightstand. I’m taking her to a baseball game Wednesday night, so do it then.”
Jesse sighed. “You’re not keeping her with you tonight?”
“She won’t stay. She came up with a thoughtful argument that contained evidence about how our names don’t sound right blended together.” David paused on a line of text. “I gotta go, bro. Call Dean.”
He hustled down the stairs to the IT cave where Malcolm was hiding. When people who knew anything about computers were readily available to a workforce, tons of problems spontaneously cropped up. Yet when people had to file work orders, so many things took care of themselves. Keeping Malcolm out of sight meant he could work on his assignment uninterrupted.
As expected, he found Malcolm holed up in the tiny, windowless room that had more than its fair share of air conditioning pumping into it. Of course, with all the computers and monitors, it needed great ventilation. He wasn’t alone, though. Keith Rossetti reclined in an adjacent chair, his feet propped on the table below a monitor.
With a grateful grin, Mal stood up and stretched. “What time is it? I keep forgetting to take breaks.”
“It’s lunchtime for most of the staff.” He held out his hand to Keith. “Hi, Keith. Nice to see you again.”
Keith dropped his feet to the floor and leaned forward to shake hands. “Likewise. Mal was filling me in on your adventure this weekend. I’m a little jealous.”
David perched on the edge of a table. “I have the box again Wednesday. I was about to invite Malcolm and Darcy, but you and Kat are more than welcome to join us. It seats twelve, so there’s plenty of room.”
Malcolm frowned. “If he comes, then nothing fun is going to happen with the subs. They’ll just giggle and gossip—and we will not benefit from any fun bets.”
“Yeah,” Keith said dryly. “I’m the mood-killer. You’re the one who would flip out if you saw your sister give me a blowjob. I can’t even discipline her when you’re around without you getting a bug up your ass for a week.”
“See? This is why I told you not to date her.” Malcolm rolled his eyes. A monitor down the line came up with a notice, and he tapped a few keys.
“You told me not to date her because I was an asshole. She cured me of that, so you have no excuses left. Admit it—you think nobody will ever be good enough for Kat.” Keith turned to David. “We’ll be delighted to join you. I’ll let Kat know so she can be sure to get out of court in time, and I call dibs on Mama L for babysitting.”
David and Dean had a relationship like this, where they knew one another so well that they rehashed the same arguments and pushed each other’s buttons. “Great. Malcolm?”
He flashed a regretful frown. “I have to pass. Darcy has a client in town, and we’re doing the business dinner thing.”
Keith rubbed his hands together. “I wonder what interesting challenge Kat and Autumn will come up with?”
“None.” David regretfully imparted the grim news. “Autumn invited my father. She’s under the impression that spending time together will help us mend fences, build bridges, or some other architectural feat.”
Keith greeted that news with a thoughtful frown. “I have a shit relationship with my parents too. One thing that rocks about being with someone so positive is that she can push you to do things, like give someone a chance, when you don’t want to. What’s the worst thing that can happen?”
Honestly, David didn’t think anything bad would happen. His father always behaved in mixed company. “I guess we’ll see.” He turned to Malcolm. “I actually came down because I found something, and I want your opinion.” He took over one of the keyboards, tapping out commands to bring up the data he wanted to share.
Malcolm’s eyes moved over the lines of data. Keith moved to get a better view, and David stepped aside to let him see. Both men had more experience with these types of crimes than David did.
David shared his findings thus far, more for Keith’s benefit. “Someone is going into the accounts after the fact and changing numbers. It looks like money is being moved around until it’s ‘lost’ in the system, and then the thief can transfer it to a private, untraceable account. It’s almost genius.”
“Yeah.” Malcolm scratched his chin as he read. “All of the transactions happen before or after hours, or during the lunch hour.”
Keith pointed out several codes. “Either every person on staff is involved in a conspiracy to commit embezzlement, or someone has other people’s logins and passwords. These are all from different accounts.”
David was more inclined to believe theory two. “Can you trace where the logins are occurring?”
“I can do better than that,” Malcolm said, his fingers flying over the keyboard. “I can cross-reference it with arrival times, departure times, and sick days. I can also sync attendance lists for scheduled meetings. That way we’ll find the transactions that happen during business hours.”
David and Keith leaned forward expectantly.
Malcolm paused and shot a dirty look over h
is shoulder. “It’s going to take a few days. That’s a shitload of data.”
He and Keith leaned back in unison.
“You made it sound like the information was forthcoming.” Keith smacked Malcolm’s shoulder hard. “I got all excited about getting to arrest someone.”
David had looked forward to clearing Autumn of all suspicion so he could concentrate on finding out her secrets. “I have something that you might be able to do.” He showed Keith the pictures of the photos he’d taken at Autumn’s apartment. “I think her dad was a shady character. Maybe you can run him through the database?”
Keith swiped through the selection. “Do you suspect him of something?”
“He’s deceased. Autumn said his name is Brian Sullivan. Maybe you can turn up something that will shed some light on why she’s only existed for six years. I don’t think it has bearing on this case, but I want to know.” So many questions remained unanswered, and there was a lot Autumn didn’t know about her own life. Things she said and habits she’d developed didn’t sit right with him. Something more was going on. At the heart of the issue lay the fact that David wanted to fix it for her. “It’s personal.”
Keith forwarded several of the images to his work email. “I’ll run them, and I’ll call you if I get a hit.”
“Thanks.”
On the way back upstairs, he stopped by the cafeteria and snagged a couple of lunches. Autumn most likely thought she was staring at more financial problems with her forthcoming hospital bills and the cost to fix her car, but that was no excuse to skip meals. His phone rang, the call from his mechanic friend, as soon as he got back to his office.
“Eastridge.”
“David, this is Larry. I’ve taken a look at the car, and you’re not going to like this.”
“It’s a piece of shit?” That wasn’t news.
Larry chuckled. “I’ve seen worse. Anyway, I banged out the dent. That’s as good as it’s gonna get, but then when I put it up to do a general systems check, I found that the brake lines had been cut.”
The urge to kill something presented first, but he channeled that violent rage into the need to do something productive. “How long would the brakes work after the lines are cut?”
“It would take a couple stops before the fluid ran out. She was dry when the accident occurred. There was no way she was stopping.”
Red and violent hues clouded his vision. The accident hadn’t been her fault. Who the fuck would want to hurt Autumn? For the most part, she was quiet and kept to herself. Nobody could have a reason to hate her enough to want to cause her serious harm—or even death. “Document everything. Send pictures, and save the parts. I’ll get them when I pick up the car. When will you have it fixed?”
The sounds of tapping on a keyboard came through the line. “I have to notify the authorities, but once they sign off, I can have it fixed in about three hours.”
David didn’t want this going out on a general alert. “I’m going to give you the name and number of a couple FBI agents I’m working with on this. Call Keith Rossetti, and if he’s not available, try Jordan Monaghan.” He rattled off the numbers before thanking Larry and ending the call.
“Are you all right?”
He looked up to see Autumn standing on the threshold, her hand on the frame and concern marring her forehead. “Come in and close the door.” He gestured to the seat across the table. “I thought we were having lunch together today?”
The concern deepened, but she also harbored a bit of mischief in those green eyes. “We never had a conversation about that. You’re my boss. I think it would look a little weird if we spent our lunch hours huddled around your desk. People might think we’re sleeping together.”
With a chuckle, he motioned to the salad and sandwiches he’d picked up. “I haven’t eaten. Have you?”
“No, but I’m not hungry. Did you not notice how much I ate this morning?”
He had, but he knew better than to comment. A healthy appetite in a woman was sexy, but women tended to see such things differently. Until he knew how she’d take it, he kept such observations to himself. “That was six hours ago. I insist you eat something.”
Reluctantly, she took a ham sandwich and unwrapped it. “You never answered my question.”
Since he wasn’t in the habit of giving out information, he probably hadn’t. “Which was?”
“Are you all right? You looked troubled when I came in.”
How much should he tell her? If he were in her position, he’d want to know that his brake lines had been tampered with. “My mechanic called. He said your brake lines had been cut, so there was no way you were stopping when that car pulled in front of you. The accident wasn’t your fault.”
“Cut? Who would cut my brake lines? And why?” She put down the sandwich. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“Where did you go after you left my apartment?” The parking garage under his place was guarded, not that it mattered. Given the timeline, the tampering had happened sometime after she’d left his place.
“I went directly to Sunshine Acres. The car was fine. I was there for about twenty minutes before you called, and then I left. I’m guessing it happened there. It doesn’t make sense. Who would go to a convalescent center—really it’s full of geriatric patients—and do that?” She leaped to her feet and paced in front of the desk, taking small nibbles of the sandwich as she thought. At least she was eating. “Maybe it’s the same person who broke into my apartment.”
David didn’t want to go down that road because it would lead to revealing some uncomfortable truths he wasn’t ready to share. He knew Jesse wouldn’t do anything. Jesse—he was the key. “Sugar, my mechanic is notifying Keith or Jordan, and I’ll follow up with this additional information. We’ll get to the bottom of it. In the meantime, you can stay with me.”
She stopped pacing and regarded him warily. “David, I can’t do that. I like you. I really like you, but there are times when I need my personal space or I’ll go crazy. I promise I’ll be careful. I’ll call you and text you and report in, but I won’t go into hiding, and I won’t use you as a shield.”
If Jesse hadn’t been assigned to follow her, he would have fought harder to get his way. He’d have played the Dom card and ordered her to do what he wanted, but he knew when to stop pressing. Autumn was a strong, capable woman who refused to be intimidated. He respected the hell out of that, but he was going to protect her whether she wanted to be protected or not.
“Fine. Sit and eat. Tell me about your morning.”
“My morning?” She sat. “I got the files you requested and put them in the shared folder. Then I went to acquisitions and chatted with Julianne. She demanded proof that I’m feeling okay. She’s almost as bad as you with that stuff.” She paused to chew and swallow. “I played a lot of solitaire and read an article about something called Resting Bitch Face. It explains several people I’ve met. Mostly I was bored. You really don’t give me much to do. I could still be doing my accounting work and be your assistant.”
“No.” Not only did he enjoy having her where he had unlimited access, but he didn’t want her touching accounts until this matter was resolved. “I need you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Sir, that was cheesy, but sweet.”
“It was neither.” He hadn’t meant to sound maudlin, but she’d read correctly into his tone. “I need an assistant, and you’re excellent at the job.”
Finishing the sandwich, she wiped her hands on the miniscule napkin and put the wrappings in the trash. “You’re pretty self-sufficient. Most of the stuff you need, you get without involving me. I feel like I’m spinning my wheels and wasting the company’s time. I wish you’d give me more to do.”
“Would you be offended if I sent you to my apartment to make dinner? That way, when I get home, we could eat, and you’d already be naked.” He meant it as a joke, but her face darkened.
“Don’t be an ass. I’m in accounting, David. I like my job, and I take pride
in my work. I like to be productive. I may be your girlfriend, but that doesn’t mean I will let you devalue me by suggesting that I belong naked and in the kitchen.”
Oh, he’d stepped into it big time. He hadn’t meant to walk that minefield. “Sugar, I didn’t mean—”
“And that’s another thing.” She stood and stared down at him, irritation and hurt mixing behind her eyes. “At work, you need to call me by my name. You mean ‘Sugar’ as a term of endearment, I know, but when you use it here, it’s demeaning. And it’s not quite a term of endearment, either, if you recall your reasons for choosing the name in the first place.”
He hesitated. He’d chosen it because she had a sweet ass, but he didn’t know if now was the time to acknowledge that. He got to his feet and spoke from the heart. “Autumn, I don’t do lines very well, and I think I may have crossed a few too many too quickly. You’re mine—my sub, my girlfriend, my lover—and you’re my assistant. I can’t look at you and not see the total package. I never meant to make you feel devalued or demeaned. I’m sorry.” Perhaps he was more like his father than he was comfortable admitting. He’d grown up feeling that way, and he’d never meant to make anyone—especially someone he cared for so deeply—suffer like that.
Her frown didn’t ease. “There’s a lot more to my package than that.” She held up a hand when he tried to speak. “Don’t. You can be very suave and persuasive, but not generally with words. That’s not your strong suit. You’re a man of action. I get that, so I’m going to let you prove with your actions that you know there’s more to me. That’s the truth I want you to prove. Don’t let me down.”
Chapter Fifteen
David kept his promise to make sure she was given productive tasks for the next two days, and he had plenty of meetings to keep him busy. Autumn didn’t know when he had the time to do the job for which he’d been hired, and after each meeting, he seemed increasingly contemplative. She wished he felt comfortable enough to use her as a sounding board, but she understood why he didn’t.
Re/Leased (Doms of the FBI Book 5) Page 20
