She turned back to her screen. “Fine.” She flexed her fingers as if she was barely restraining herself from wrapping them around his neck, and her knuckles cracked. “Everyone can bring their laptop in rather than sending that kid out.”
Al might look like a kid, but he knew his stuff.
Then suddenly the kid was standing in her office. “Dudes,” he said. “I got a massive brain implosion.”
Was that a good thing?
“What if it’s as simple as someone accessing the system through a valid user ID that’s been hacked?”
“What do you mean?” Erin’s mascara had smudged beneath her eyes as if she’d been rubbing them, and the dark circles were deeper than usual.
“There’ll be a log of every user. Unless he or she back-doored it somehow, the user log will show it.” Al hunched forward, his eyes gleaming. “We can match the user ID with the IP addresses and see what kind of fallout we get.”
“I still don’t get it,” Erin said.
But Dominic did. “If someone hacked in, retrieved a user ID, then started using it from another IP address, that IP won’t match the valid user ID. And we can detect the port of entry into our system.”
“Bingo.” Al grinned. “Unless they’re really clever and wiped the trail.”
“It’s worth a try.” Dominic felt a slight measure of relief. Another avenue to investigate that didn’t finger one of his own people.
“You’ll have to talk to your system techs and get me authorization to access the logs.” Al shot him with a pointed finger. “Can you handle that, dude?”
“Yeah. I’ll call them.”
“Awesome. I’ll finish scanning and optimizing the other computers first.”
“How much is this going to cost, Dominic?” Erin asked after Al sauntered out the door.
Erin was all about the money, but it was his people that gave him the bigger headache. He didn’t want to believe someone in his group would sell their proprietary information.
“I don’t care how much.” He spread his hands. “We need to put the issue to rest.”
“It doesn’t put everything to rest. We still have the patent to worry about.”
Garland Brooks was blowing smoke. He wanted money for nothing. Dominic wasn’t going to let that asshole win no matter how much it cost. He leaned his fists on her desk. “Stop worrying all the time.”
She pursed her lips. “Somebody has to.”
He wanted to throw his hands in the air. He did his own worrying; she just never gave him credit for it.
“Dominic . . .” She didn’t go on. And she wasn’t looking him in the eye.
Whatever she wanted to say had nothing to do with the patent or the computers. “What?”
She waited a beat, staring at him. “Nothing.” She turned back to her keyboard.
Dominic wanted to pound something. Especially after the great weekend they’d had. He hated unfinished sentences, stuff hanging in the air between them, but it was the way they lived these days, everything unsaid. He raised his hands in defeat and backed out. “Fine. Whatever.”
Damn. She was doing it again, taking him on that roller-coaster ride, fucking fantastic sex, then shutting him out. He needed something to shake her up, put her off balance again, right back into the zone he’d had her in over the weekend, where she’d do whatever he wanted.
They had the three-day weekend ahead of them. He’d have to come up with something to top Friday night in the hot tub with Shane.
EVERYONE WAS SO TENSE, BREE COULD FEEL IT LIKE COLD FINGERS on her skin. Okay, not everyone, just Erin and Dominic and that geek they’d brought in.
She stretched her arms over her head, reaching with her fingertips, one hand, then the other, working the kinks out. She’d been sitting at the computer too long without moving.
She had to tell Erin. She couldn’t stand it anymore. There was no way out of it, none at all. Things were coming to a head. But God, she couldn’t even begin to say the words.
Of course, there was another way out. She could ignore all the calls. Pretend. But the calls would just keep coming, pushing, prodding, driving her crazy.
She strode purposefully to the door of her office. She’d tell Erin. She had to. She owed it to her.
Bree stopped before she made it out the door.
Erin would ask all sorts of questions that Bree couldn’t face answering.
The phone rang on the desk. She ignored it. Immediately afterward, her cell phone started to ring. She closed her eyes and ignored that, too. She knew who it was. Only one person would move immediately from her work line to her cell phone, and Bree didn’t want to talk to her. She could ignore those calls for a few more days. Then, maybe it would all go away.
God help her, that was the worst thought of all.
TWO DAYS LATER, THE WEATHER HAD TAKEN A RAPID TURN, FROM sunny but cold, to stormy and even colder. The forecasters were predicting snow in the Santa Cruz Mountains overnight. Rain beat against the window of Erin’s office.
Her mind itched to do something, anything about the spy or the mole or the hacker or whatever you wanted to call the person who’d given their numbers to WEU. Letting some computer whiz pour over their equipment searching for viruses or clues made her feel helpless. Dominic was running around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to prove the leak was an outsider. They’d barely spoken over the last couple of days just so they could avoid the fight about it.
Swear to God, she hated to think it was one of her people, but wasn’t the simplest answer the correct one? Like cops looking to the family when there’s a murder. The most logical choices were Yvonne, who had been with them the longest and knew shipping numbers inside and out, or Bree, who had all their financial data at her fingertips. Sure, Erin hated to think it, but the suspicions hounded her regardless.
She clacked away on the keyboard, queuing up the morning’s shipments even as her mind whirled around in circles. Today was the deadline, actually this morning was, because she intended to let everyone go after lunch just as she had last week. She’d pulled in as many shipments from next week as she could, which would give her a week’s jump on cash receipts in January.
She punched a button on her phone.
“Yo,” Fred from shipping yelped at her a moment later.
“The packing lists are ready to print.”
“Cool.”
She clicked off, then hit another button. Bree’s phone rang next door, and when she picked up, Erin got her voice in stereo. “Yes, Erin, what can I do for you?”
“Invoices are ready to print. They need to go out today.”
“Sure.”
Erin clicked off again. The packing lists would go with the equipment, the invoices separately. She’d tried sending them together, but invariably receiving lost the invoices or never bothered to send them to accounts payable.
She sat back, listening to the rain a moment. It was almost peaceful. Even Dominic was too busy playing with the computer geek to bother her.
Last night he’d holed himself up in his lab at home, enraptured with his computer screen. That was fine with her. That way he wasn’t asking her what was wrong. Of course, she could have said it was the patent, the cash, the year-end, any number of work things.
But it was Shane. Not Shane per se, but what Shane represented, a man Dominic wanted to watch her have sex with. Later, she’d lain awake. Did that mean Dominic didn’t want her anymore, didn’t love her? Hell, did the fact that she was actually turned on by whole idea mean she didn’t love him?
She’d spent the sleepless parts of the night thinking about sex, Dominic, and Shane, and somewhere toward morning, she’d experienced a sudden stab of guilt. She’d forgotten to think about Jay.
The outer door opened. She couldn’t imagine who it was. Deliveries were made in receiving, and it was way too early for the mail.
She leaned over her desk to look out.
A courier wearing a white baseball cap. “Erin DeKnight?”<
br />
“That’s me.” Rising, she rounded the end of her desk and met him halfway across the roundhouse.
“Sign here.” He passed her a clipboard.
She did, then he handed her a registered letter. Her heart started to beat wildly. The return address was WEU. A registered letter from WEU. Oh God, WEU was taking them to court over the damn royalties. She wanted to scream. Everything just kept going downhill.
Back in her office, her heart pounded more loudly than the rain beating against the window. Her hands shook as she tore the envelope. She scanned the letter, and one sentence stood out . . .
“We’d like to meet to make a formal offer to buy out DeKnight Gauges, Inc., and, frankly, we don’t think you can refuse.”
27
WEU WANTED TO BUY THEM? WHAT THE HELL FOR?
Erin snorted. They hadn’t reacted to the royalty demand, and WEU wanted to get them one way or another. Dropping into her chair, she read the letter again with more focus. They were willing to discuss having Dominic and Erin stay on to run the company, a separate division of WEU. Of course, the royalty issue would be null. Nothing would have to change except the paperwork; they could go on the same as before, yadda, yadda. What a crock. You let a big company in, everything changed. You were forced to adhere to their company policies, then all of a sudden they were siphoning off your profits. It was a scam.
One line grabbed her, flashing at her like neon. “Due to your difficult cash position, we know the relief you will feel having the patent issue off the table.”
Their difficult cash position? How would WEU know anything about their cash? They made payroll, paid their bills on time, and had no outstanding debt. She managed the cash scrupulously. WEU was having the cash problem. They were stretching out Leon’s payment terms. So what the hell were they talking about?
She glanced at the signature on the letter. Their CEO, Mr. Garland Brooks. DKG was a very small fish in the pond WEU ruled. In fact, to them, DKG was pond scum. Except for the market share WEU had lost to them on the through-coat gauge.
But how would WEU have any clue about their cash position? Unless someone at DKG told them.
A queasiness started in her belly, spread up through her torso, then into her throat, choking her. Bree had been acting strangely. Yvonne had noticed it. Rachel had seen it. Even Erin agreed that something was bothering her.
Bree wouldn’t do that. She couldn’t.
Erin clenched her teeth. But look at the timing of the offer. Year-end. Which was always harder because companies put off purchases and decision making until the new year and a new budget. Year-end and the holidays. The holidays, which was the hardest time of year for Erin personally.
The letter actually shook in her hand, its crackle and rustle filling the office.
What if someone had told Garland Brooks this was the perfect time to hit them with the royalty demand, then follow it up with an offer, a mere pittance of what DKG was worth, to buy them out when their defenses were low?
“Frankly, we don’t think you can refuse.”
A threat? Why would he phrase it that way unless he knew something, unless someone at DKG had betrayed her?
Maybe, if Bree hadn’t suddenly appeared in her office door, Erin would have controlled herself, thought about it first, talked to Dominic, considered it all rationally. Maybe she could have controlled her emotions the way she so scrupulously controlled them with Dominic so she didn’t bite his head off.
But Bree was there, holding a stack of envelopes, the invoices. “Erin—”
Erin didn’t let her finish. “Shut the door, and sit down.”
Bree’s face blanched. “Sure, Erin.” She closed the door and sat.
As if her anger had been bubbling beneath the surface for days, weeks, her emotions were suddenly so high there was nothing except the letter in her hand and the woman in that chair. Erin rose, rounded her desk and stood over Bree. Her skin was hot, her voice cold. “How did WEU know our sales numbers?”
Bree’s eyes went wide. “What are you talking about?”
“WEU. How do they know the through-coat sales? How do they know about our cash position?” Erin took one step closer, glaring down at Bree, her breath like glass in her throat. “Only you and I know about that.”
“I didn’t tell them.” Bree’s lip trembled.
“Then why have you been acting so secretively?” she snapped. “Yvonne saw it. I saw it. I offered you the opportunity to come clean the other day and you just stood there and said nothing was wrong.”
Bree perched on the edge of the chair, her hands clasped. “It’s not about WEU. It has nothing to do with work at all.”
Erin was so angry, she shook the letter before she could physically strike out. “Then what the fuck is wrong with you?”
Bree stared at her, her cheeks two spots of bright red in her otherwise white face, her pupils so wide, Erin could see herself in them. “I—I—” she stammered.
“You what?” Erin spat out. Her vision was red-rimmed, her chest so clogged with emotion, she scared herself.
Bree shifted her eyes, and her body rocked with tension. She dropped her voice to little more than a whisper. “My—my father’s dying of cancer and my mom wants me to come home and help her take care of him. And I’d rather die than do it.”
Bree’s words smacked her in the face and drove her backward. Erin stumbled two steps, clutching the letter to her chest. A tear trembled on Bree’s eyelash but didn’t fall. It simply seemed to get sucked back inside.
“Oh,” was all Erin could manage.
“My mom wants me to ask you for time off, but I didn’t want you to think I was a terrible person because I—I can’t do it.”
Erin swallowed. Oh my God. She didn’t have any words. What could she say anyway? She’d yelled at Bree, accused her. And the woman’s father was dying.
She said things when she was angry. She always regretted them, but only when it was too late. Just like she had with Jay.
Oh God, what had she done? What had she said? What was wrong with her? She could only stand there, trembling, hearing her anger, her own voice, shouting at Bree, screaming at Jay. God forgive me. Please forgive me. She was always begging, but saying awful things anyway.
Erin cleared her throat. “I’m sorry.” She owed Bree more than that. “I don’t know what came over me. I got this letter, and I just freaked out.” It wasn’t even a good explanation. It was just a pitiful excuse. “I’m so sorry.”
“That’s okay,” Bree said softly. Color was returning to her face.
“It’s not okay.” Erin struggled to breathe. “What I did was unforgivable.”
Bree blinked. “You just asked me a couple of questions.”
“I said fuck.” It was the least of what she’d said.
Bree stared up at her. “I’ve heard worse,” she said almost calmly. “It’s not a big deal. I was just worried that I’d done something wrong. And if I’d told you when you asked me the other day, then I wouldn’t have seemed so suspicious.”
Erin came down off the adrenaline high, suddenly drained. Shuffling behind her desk, she collapsed into her chair. “I don’t deserve your excuses. I was wrong. I don’t know what came over me.” She apologized to Bree the way she never could to her son. It would never be enough. “And you can have all the time off you need to take care of your dad. I’m so sorry he’s ill.” So sorry he’s dying.
“Thank you.”
There was the other thing Bree had said, too. “I don’t think badly of you for being ambivalent about taking care of him.” Erin drew in a breath, forced the words out. “Dealing with death is hard.”
Erin should know, she hadn’t dealt with it at all. She wouldn’t even let Dominic say Jay’s name. She couldn’t say it now either, not even when Bree needed her empathy.
“Please forgive me,” Erin whispered. She should have said it to Jay. To her husband. But she couldn’t. She would have had to tell Dominic what she’d done, the things she
’d said.
“It’s okay, Erin. Honestly. I’m over it now. And I’m glad you made me tell you because I feel a lot better. Really.” Bree rubbed her hands on her pants as if her palms were sweaty.
“You’re not a terrible person for having feelings you don’t know what to do with.” Erin wished she could say the same thing for herself. But she was to blame.
Bree suddenly waved the stack of envelopes. “I was just going to let you know everything’s ready to mail. I ran them all through the mail machine.”
“Thank you.” Erin paused. “I really am sorry, Bree.”
Bree stood. She was statuesque, lovely, but there was still a shadow in her eyes. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”
Erin stopped apologizing. She couldn’t fix it anyway. “If you need to talk, my door’s always open.” Erin didn’t think Bree would use it, especially not after what she’d just done to her.
For a long moment after Bree left her office, Erin stared at WEU’s letter.
She’d been so good controlling herself the past few days, hardly snapping at Dominic, sounding like a reasonable person, even having a lovely time with him up in Napa, seeing Shane in the coffeehouse notwithstanding. Then she’d completely lost it with Bree. She closed her eyes. God.
More than anything in the world, she wanted to pick up the phone and call Garland Brooks. Yes, please, take it all. Take everything. I don’t even care how much you pay for it. I’m so tired, I just want it all to go away.
“HOW DID IT GO WITH AL? DID HE FIND ANYTHING?” SEATED AT THE kitchen table, Erin’s voice was neutral, not enthusiastic but not tuning him out either. A case of mild interest.
They’d let everyone go after lunch. All the shipping that could be done had been, the invoices were in the mail; there was nothing else to be done this year. Erin had remained in her office the rest of the afternoon checking and rechecking the rates, routings, and raw materials before the standard cost roll. Dominic spent the afternoon working with Al.
Past Midnight Page 21
