She wondered if Davis had decided to do it himself. He and her uncle had disappeared in the afternoon. They’d returned after an hour, both looking serious. Her uncle had given Davis a pointed nod as they’d headed to their separate work spaces. It was a nod Leila recognized, one that said the men were on a shared mission.
It was a little surprising that Davis would spill FBI secrets voluntarily, but her uncle was persuasive. And he was insightful. If there was anyone who knew the ins and outs of the company as well as she did—or maybe even better—it was Uncle Joel.
Before Eric had taken off, Davis had popped his head into her office. He’d told her he was heading home in a subdued tone, given no hint that he still believed the lie she’d told him earlier in the week.
The desire to call him right back, demand that he come clean with her so they could figure out not just what was happening at Petrov Armor, but also what was happening between them, had almost been too strong to resist. But she had resisted, and now Davis was gone. A little voice in the back of her mind told her it was unlikely he’d be back on Monday morning. She wondered if a group of FBI agents holding up badges and making a scene would arrive instead.
Leila swore, rubbed the back of her neck and stood up. The darkness beyond her office was depressing, almost spooky, especially knowing that the person who’d attacked her had followed her from her office. But he was in jail, Leila reminded herself. After enough time had gone by without another incident, the police believed she was safe, so she no longer had cops following her. Davis seemed less convinced—or maybe he was just overprotective—but she needed to focus on things she could control.
Besides, what better time was there to get a jump on Davis’s investigation? The question was, where could she look that she hadn’t already checked?
The security access logs. It was one of the few things Davis had reviewed without her. She and Eric had talked about Theresa’s easy access to the armor materials, and they’d looked through supply orders. Since Davis had already found Theresa’s access card used at strange hours, Eric had suggested they not waste their time rechecking.
Still, Davis wasn’t telling her everything. So maybe he’d found more than a single late-night access. Maybe he’d found a pattern. And as much as she didn’t want to believe Theresa was involved, Eric was right. She was the most logical choice.
Besides being the one most familiar with the armor material, she was the one who’d have the easiest time swapping it out. Of all the employees who’d been here a long time and had sufficient security clearance to be able to pull this off, she was one of the few who hadn’t been brought in by her father. Uncle Joel had found Theresa. When her father returned to work, he and Theresa seemed to have a mutual admiration, but maybe Leila had misread it.
She sank back into the chair behind her desk and pulled up the security card logs, scrolling back to the time when the defective armor had been shipped out. A single late-night access by Theresa, just as Davis had said.
Frowning, she leaned back in her chair and sighed. Then, she slid forward again and went back a few weeks. Before the shipment had been sent out, around the time the armor would have been made. Three late-night access logs that week. Her heart pounded faster, the excitement of finding something mixed with the anger of Theresa’s betrayal.
Her breath stalled in her throat as she read the name on the log. Not Theresa, but Eric.
“No,” Leila said out loud, leaning closer to the screen as if the proximity would suddenly change the name in front of her in black and white. “No way.”
“No way what?” a familiar voice came from the doorway to her office.
Her heart seemed to freeze, then take off at an intensity that was almost painful as she lifted her gaze to find Eric leaning against the door frame, scowling.
* * *
DAVIS TOSSED HIS button-down on the floor and kicked out of his slacks, trading them for the jeans and T-shirt he preferred. He probably wouldn’t be wearing the office attire again anytime soon. He doubted he’d go back to Petrov Armor on Monday morning. When he’d said goodbye to Leila in her office, it had felt final.
He was closing in on a suspect. As much as he’d hoped it would be Theresa, because it would be least devastating to Leila, it looked like Eric Ross was the traitor. After talking to Joel, he’d come back to the office and dug through the security records a little closer, going back much further than he had before. What he’d found was a pattern of unusual access. It wasn’t a slam dunk, but it was enough.
The most logical next step was to send in a team with warrants in hand, and he expected that would happen before Monday morning. Joel had just thought he was helping Davis with a little career advice, then venting a bit about a guy he didn’t think was good enough for his niece. But he’d given Davis the final pieces he’d needed to send his team in the right direction.
Joel had solidified the motivation for why the man who’d thought of Neal Petrov like a father would try to steal from him, then kill him. Jealousy and revenge. It was the thing Melinda, ever the profiler, would want to know when they asked for warrants. Why would Eric Ross do it? Well, he finally knew.
No way had Eric worked with someone else, least of all the man who’d forced him to break up with Leila. Eric had been in it alone.
It was time to get out. Davis still wasn’t positive what had happened to make Leila suddenly stop trusting him, but as he’d thought back on the timing, he’d realized she’d started avoiding him after his phone call with Kane at his house. They’d mostly talked about the BECA side of the investigation, but Davis’s progress at Petrov Armor had come up briefly. Still, once he’d remembered the few words he’d spoken about it, he’d known. That had to be what had changed. He’d been whispering, but Leila must have somehow overheard him say the people she cared about most were suspects in his investigation.
She hadn’t denied him access, probably still believed the truth would come out and exonerate them. It physically hurt him that he was going to shatter that belief. But they couldn’t go on like this. Especially not with Eric probably getting suspicious that Leila suspected something, which might explain why he’d suddenly sought her out at every opportunity. If she hadn’t already, eventually, she’d let Davis’s identity slip and Eric would start to cover his tracks. If that happened, he might do a good enough job that the FBI couldn’t prove it, or he’d run off on a convenient “vacation” to a country without extradition.
The whole drive home, Davis had reached for his phone over and over, wanting to call Leila, wanting to explain that he’d never intended to hurt her, that he’d never intended to fall for her. But he couldn’t tip her off that he was finished at Petrov Armor.
If she didn’t hate him already, she was going to hate him soon.
Davis took a deep breath, trying to calm the urge to hit something, because he didn’t have time to go to the gym and work out his aggression on a punching bag. He grabbed the attaché case he’d tossed on the floor and took it to his desk, dumping out the contents. Notes on relevant information about Eric. He needed to put it all together and present it to Pembrook so they could make the strongest case for the warrants. He wanted to serve them as soon as they could, get this over with, then move on with his life.
He was going to have to do it without Leila. Davis rubbed his temples, where a headache had suddenly formed. How had she gotten to him so quickly, so completely?
Focus, he reminded himself. He couldn’t control what happened after those warrants were served. Couldn’t control whether or not bringing down the person who’d swapped out the faulty armor dragged down the entire company with him. Couldn’t control whether Leila’s career and the legacy she’d tried so hard to preserve for her father crashed down around her.
All he could do was his job. He’d sworn an oath as an FBI agent to uphold the law. And he’d made a personal promise that he was going to find the perso
n responsible for Jessica’s death.
Gritting his teeth, Davis lined up his notes on Eric with the time line of possible illegal arms sales Kane and Melinda had put together. When his phone rang, he scowled at it, debating not answering. But it was a local number. Maybe Leila, calling from her office?
“Davis,” he answered curtly, still in FBI mode. And trying to put as much of a barrier as possible between himself and Leila. Because if she asked him straight out, he wasn’t sure he could lie to her and not hate himself.
But the voice that came over the line wasn’t Leila. “Davis, it’s Joel. Look, I’m sorry to call you after hours like this, but I’ve found something.”
“What is it?” After Joel had shared that he thought Eric was out for Leila’s job, Davis had acted like he was hesitant to say anything, but finally blurted that he’d felt something odd was going on at the company. He’d said he suspected it was preparation for a hostile takeover of Leila’s CEO position, that maybe Eric had cut some corners in ways that would come back to her. Joel had promised to look into it.
When the end of the day had come and Joel had just headed out without a word, Davis figured the man had either been humoring him or hadn’t found anything. But the intensity in Joel’s voice now said otherwise.
“After we talked, I took a look at our purchase records. And you’re right. Little things seem off, especially with recent armor purchases. All the odd purchases were logged in by Eric. There’s nothing obvious enough to draw attention, but looking at it all together, it’s not quite right.”
“Not right, how?”
“Well, I know you thought Eric could be cutting corners and trying to make it seem like Leila’s fault, but these purchases all seem just a bit too high. Like he was paying for more materials than he actually received.”
Or he’d received plenty of materials, but he’d only brought some of it into the office and kept the rest of it for illegal sales. “What if he wasn’t paying for more than he got?”
“If we got all this material, I’m sure Theresa would have noticed. She’s the one receiving it.”
“What if she wasn’t?”
“What do you mean?”
“Would Eric know how to build the armor? Theoretically?” Davis pressed. Could he have swapped out the faulty material himself?
“Sure,” Joel replied simply. “He’s been here a long time. He’s seen Theresa and her team do it. But why would he want to build it himself? Anyway...”
“Something’s not right,” Davis stated, summing up. His pulse quickened at the thought of new, potentially more conclusive evidence to take to his boss. If he could get Joel to willingly hand it over, even better.
“Yeah,” Joel agreed. “Normally I wouldn’t talk about this at all with a brand-new employee, but I didn’t even suspect anything until you brought it up. I’m going to have to tell Leila at some point, but she’s been through so much lately. I don’t want to bother her with this if there’s some other explanation.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Davis agreed. For the investigation, he needed Leila to stay ignorant of this new development. But knowing that didn’t stop guilt from flooding him. It didn’t matter that they hadn’t even known each other for two weeks. He owed her more than lies.
“I’m glad you agree,” Joel said. “Even though I don’t necessarily want to see my niece get back together with her ex, the truth is, Eric isn’t the only one who still has feelings there. Leila never totally got over him, either. He broke up with her so out of the blue, but it wasn’t his decision. I don’t want to see my niece hurt, so if I’m wrong about this, I’d rather you help me figure it out before I break the news to Leila.”
“What do you mean that breaking up with Leila wasn’t Eric’s decision?” Davis asked, a bad feeling forming.
“I’m sure my brother meant well, but asking Eric to break up with Leila all those years ago might have fueled some of this. I’m sure Eric figured one day Neal would change his mind, then hand over the company to him and offer his blessing on dating his daughter again, too. But it didn’t happen that way.”
“And his resentment has been building up ever since,” Davis stated.
“Exactly. I think the other part of what’s behind Eric’s need to be CEO is to prove his worth to Leila. Doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, since it would be at her expense, but it’s a power thing.” Joel sighed heavily. “At least, that’s my suspicion. The fact is, I need an outside view. I’ve known Eric for so long, it’s hard for me to be objective. Because there’s something else I found.”
“What is it?” Davis pressed when Joel took a breath.
“Something at our remote testing grounds. It could be connected to Eric too, but—”
“Remote testing grounds?” Davis knew about the second testing area in their office, a soundproofed area where the guns used to get tested. But Leila had never mentioned a remote facility. He resisted the urge to swear, held his silence while he waited for Joel to explain.
“Yeah, it’s the other place we used to test the guns,” Joel continued easily, probably not sensing Davis’s anxiety.
But why would he? Joel thought he was uncovering a simple plot by Eric to undermine his niece, take over her position as CEO. He had no idea he was helping to unroot a long-running criminal enterprise.
“When Leila shut down the gun side of the business, we didn’t really need it anymore. We already had two testing areas inside the office, and those were much more convenient. So, this one was shut down. Or at least, it was supposed to be.”
If it wasn’t, it was the perfect place to test excess guns before selling them to criminals, instead of destroying them like Leila’s plan dictated. It was probably also the perfect place to swap out the materials on armor, sell the good ones to criminals at a marked-up price and send the cheaper versions for contracts that had already been sold to the military. Make some cash and destroy the reputation of the woman he was trying to unseat at the same time.
Davis glanced down, realizing he’d fisted his hand so hard that he’d actually stopped blood flow to his fingertips. He forcibly loosened his fingers as he asked Joel, “Where is this place?”
“I’ll text you the directions,” Joel said. “Is it too much to ask you to meet me there tonight? I want to show you in person what I found before I tell Leila, get your thoughts on what the hell is going on here.”
“Sure, I can do that,” Davis said, fighting to keep his voice even and offhand.
Inside, he was screaming. This was it. He could feel it. This was the missing piece of the puzzle that would help him finally solve who was responsible for Jessica’s death.
“Great,” Joel said. “I just texted you the address. When can you meet me there?”
Davis glanced at the address. The remote testing facility was remote, at least in the sense that it was in a deserted area on the edge of Knoxville. The perfect place for Eric to conduct meetings with criminals, too.
“I can leave right now,” Davis said.
“Great, I’ll see you there.”
Davis hung up, glanced at his phone to see if he had any other messages. None, not a peep from Leila. Then, he grabbed his leather jacket and headed for his car. Right now, the rest of the TCD team was prepping for their own big arrest. They knew he was feeling close to finding answers at Petrov Armor. He’d contacted them after he checked out the initial lead from Leila’s uncle, giving them the name of his suspect. But if this revealed what he thought it was going to, there’d be no delay in getting the warrants.
He’d be ready to make an arrest tonight.
Chapter Eighteen
“No way, what?” Eric repeated, striding into her office as if it was his.
Leila’s fingers felt clumsy as she moved the mouse to exit the supply order information she’d been reviewing, the logs that listed Eric’s name next to orders con
nected to the faulty armor. Her heart pounded way too fast as she finally got it closed, just before Eric rounded her desk to stare at her now-blank screen.
Eric’s suspicious gaze traveled from the computer to her face, assessing with seventeen years of experience reading her. She scrambled to come up with an answer he’d believe, even as her mind struggled to accept that Eric could have been the person betraying the company for so many years. That he could have killed her father, and tried to have her killed.
She stood abruptly, her thighs bumping the chair awkwardly and sending it sliding backward into the wall. Her legs tensed, ready to run, and her hands fisted with the desire to take a swing at him so strong she was actually shaking. Eric had killed her father.
Seventeen years of memories flashed before her eyes as Eric put his hand on her arm, leaning close with wide, innocent eyes.
“Are you okay?”
Images of Eric at fifteen years old, lanky and shy, asking to sit next to her and not taking no for an answer. A few months later, meeting her father and seeming to bond with him almost immediately, their connection as strong as his feelings for her, just different. Supposedly, the father he’d never had. And all the years since, in the office, laughing with her father, celebrating new deals with him, breaking down and weeping at his funeral.
Were all those memories lies?
Had everything he’d done since been a lie? Pretending to help her with the investigation in order to keep her close, see what she knew? Pretending to have romantic feelings for her again, suggesting they go to some foreign country together, so she’d help him get away before the FBI closed in?
Secret Investigation (Tactical Crime Division Book 2) Page 16
