“What? No!” I didn’t realize I was shouting until Devon flinched, and I ran my hands through my hair, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m just … frayed.”
Frayed didn’t begin to cover it. Worn down to the bone would be more accurate, but I didn’t want Devon to worry too much.
He glanced over his shoulder at the door. “I hope I didn’t interrupt a … lunch date.”
“Not in so many words,” I said, burning my tongue as I took another sip of my scalding-hot coffee. “We were working.”
That same shadow crossed his face again, and the corners of his mouth tightened. Something was off with him; I was sure of it this time.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re letting her work with you on this? She works for Pace, Aaron.”
“Actually, she quit.”
Devon’s eyes widened, and he rocked back onto his heels. “What? No way.”
“I wouldn’t lie to you,” I said. “She’s moving on to bigger and better things.”
Devon chewed the inside of his lip. I knew that gesture. It betrayed the anxiety he felt when he had to be the bearer of bad news. “It’s just …” he began.
“Spit it out, Devon.”
“I don’t see why she needs to be so involved here, in the investigation … and with combing through the records … and with you.”
I set my coffee down on the desk with a definitive flick of my wrist. “Devon, do I need to explain to you precisely how Miss Miller and I are involved? She’s worried about me. She’s smart and knows the industry. It doesn’t hurt to let her help.”
“Are you sure, though? All I’m saying is that she showed up around here just about the time when everything started to go sideways for the company and for us. She doesn’t just work for our largest competitor; she’s related to their CEO! She started hanging around you right when we were threatening to acquire them. Since then, you’ve let the Pace deal fall through, and you’ve come under all kinds of weird suspicions. Not to mention all the money that’s gone missing. Doesn’t it all seem a little, I don’t know … convenient to you?”
I huffed out an empty sound that didn’t pass for a laugh. “Are you fucking serious? Don’t tell me you’re serious.”
Devon’s eyes flashed, hard and defensive. I realized with some surprise that he was truly angry. At Audrey? I’d had no idea until today that he’d spared her any more than a passing glance. He shrugged, a hard gesture that pinned his ears beneath his shoulders.
“You are,” I said. “You’re serious.”
This was the last thing I needed today, another stone around my neck to drag me down into the mire of paranoia and bad press. What did Devon think? That Audrey was some kind of spy or criminal mastermind, come to destroy my company the best way possible—through me? I almost laughed.
“You think she’s double-crossing me?” I asked. “Why? What would she have to gain?”
“Plenty.” There was an ugly sharpness to his voice I wasn’t used to. “Money … a quick spin around the fame carousel … revenge for trying to buy her family’s company. Hell, maybe she’s weakening us from the inside, so that Pace can buy us out.”
“Do you hear how insane you sound? I thought I was the paranoid one, but this—”
“Even if she isn’t a double agent, she’s certainly a distraction. You’re never in the office anymore.”
“I’m here plenty.”
“Regardless, you’re getting distracted,” he continued. “Then, I come in here and she’s with you, poring over our financial records with her phone out where she could take pictures of sensitive information and smuggle it out? It just doesn’t make sense to me, Aaron.”
I leaned against the edge of my desk to steady myself, knuckles going white from gripping the wood. This was the worst of all possible scenarios: one of the only people I cared about coming after the other. Devon didn’t know how much Audrey meant to me, not really. I wasn’t even sure Audrey did yet, but Devon should have known better than to bring her into this—or to slander her like that in front of me. I calmed myself.
“Okay, where is all this coming from?”
Devon’s eyes softened, liquid honey once again. “I’m just worried about you, Aaron. What they’re saying in the papers, it’s scary. And I don’t think you’re seeing clearly. That girl has gotten inside your head.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and pinched the bridge of my nose. Audrey wasn’t the culprit here, no matter how much the local papers would eat up the story of a vengeful competitor seducing me and orchestrating my downfall. Despite what I had suggested earlier, I doubted Ronny was, either, anxious and short-sighted as he was. And, as much as I would have liked to see his smug face clocked by a police officer, I didn’t think Mercer was behind it. He was far too self-focused and sloppy to pull off a coup d’état; it was part of what made him such a shitty employee despite his natural talent.
I shut my eyes tighter and tried to think, realizing that if I didn’t figure this out today, and that if I managed to avoid being brought up on charges, Audrey would be the next probable target for the investigators to go after. I needed to solve this.
Whoever had pulled this off had to not just be smart but subtle, good at not calling attention to themselves. It would have to be someone on the inside. Someone with an intimate knowledge of the company, as Audrey had pointed out. They would have to be high enough in the company to have unlimited access to most departmental records and financial transactions. They would have to be close enough to me to anticipate my movements and accurately pin the embezzlement on me.
That left no one. No one except—
Devon was watching me with a solemn expression.
God, I was stupid. So fucking stupid. Why hadn’t I seen it before?
I reached into my back pocket and made a show of switching off the ringer on my phone. As I did so, I discreetly swiped my thumb over the command to dial Audrey’s phone and muted her end of the conversation.
Then, I tossed the phone face-down on my desk with a clatter like I didn’t care about it, like I was just blocking out more of the world’s annoying news alerts and concerned text messages.
Audrey, I willed internally. Pick up your damn phone.
14
Audrey
I had ducked into an artisan coffee shop a few blocks from the Patterson building and was debating between getting my usual skim macchiato and splurging on a lavender honey latte when my phone rang. I fished it out of my purse as the person in line in front of me rummaged around in his wallet for the exact change. My eyebrows shot up when I saw Aaron’s name on my phone. I’d only left fifteen minutes ago. Had I forgotten something in his office?
I scrounged around in my purse as the phone rang again. Wallet, keys, and metro card were all accounted for, I even had sampler perfumes and two full-size lipsticks I always carried around with me in case I needed to change up my outfit on the go.
“Ma’am?” the barista prompted. He was young and wore a meticulous, maintained beard, the kind popular with college kids in Portland.
“Oh, uh, yeah …”
My voice trailed off as I glanced from the menu board to my phone and back again. Whatever Aaron wanted could probably wait long enough for me to be polite to the barista and then return his call as soon as I’d sat down with my drink—but something didn’t feel right. Aaron only ever called to make plans. He preferred texting or an in-person discussion unless there was some kind of emergency. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. On a day like today, an emergency was certainly in the cards.
“So sorry,” I said, face reddening as I committed one of my least favorite coffee shop faux pas. “I just need to take this …”
The barista nodded with a tired smile as a few people groaned in line behind me. I was probably not the first customer to take a call at the register today, and I wouldn’t be the last.
“Hello?”
No answer.
I pressed the phone to
my chest, taking advantage of the lag to say, “One of the latte specials, please … with almond milk if you have it. Thanks so much.”
I pulled the phone back to my ear just in time for the barista to ask me what size I wanted, and I gave him a hand motion that I hoped conveyed, “Just a small, thanks.”
I could hear male voices over the phone. I recognized Aaron’s, speaking in a clear and deliberate manner, as though he were giving a speech to the nosebleed section in a large auditorium, but the other one was only vaguely familiar. A pocket dial? I pulled the phone away from my ear, glancing at the caller ID one more time, and debating ending the call. But …
“Ma’am?” the barista repeated. “Hot or cold?”
“Oh, hot,” I murmured. Then, realizing I had spoken from habit, I blurted, “I mean iced! Cold, please.”
The barista just nodded at my over-apologetic rambling and punched some commands into his cash register. I pressed the phone back to my ear again, wedging it between my jaw and shoulder as I scraped around in my purse for my wallet. The ambient noise of the café turned into a dull roar during the late morning rush, and I could just make out what Aaron was saying now. His voice sounded tight.
I tossed a somewhat crumpled five-dollar bill on the counter for the barista and waved at him. Keep the change. I drifted away toward one of the ergonomic chairs, straining to hear. I wished that I had chosen a quieter café—or that I had thought to step outside when I’d had the chance.
“What do you know?” Aaron asked on the other end of the line.
“What do you mean?” another voice replied. More distant, less intentional. Who was that? Devon? That would make the most sense, considering I’d left them alone together minutes before.
“I mean, you’ve never given your thoughts on any of this,” Aaron said. “And now you’re trying to push the blame onto Audrey? On the day the shit hits the fan? What’s going on, Devon?”
I stiffened when he mentioned my name. What sort of things was Devon saying about me? The barista called my name, and I scurried over to snag my latte from the granite slab that served as the pick-up bar, then sank back into my seat. I pressed my hand over one ear to hear more clearly.
“What?” Devon asked with disbelief. He sounded … different. Curt. Less eager.
Angry, I realized with a cold feeling in my stomach. Devon was furious and doing his best to hold it back.
“Devon.” Aaron’s voice was low. Angry, as well, but something else. Hurt, almost. Whatever he was about to say was devastating to him. “You did this, didn’t you?”
A scoff of laughter. “You think I would do something like this?”
“No, I don’t,” Aaron said. “But you knew that already.”
There was a pause, and my heart pounded wildly in my chest, while two mothers and their toddlers passed me, and a few kids with skateboards jostled to get a better look at whatever was in the pastry case. The world, for all its mania, seemed to slow and then shudder to a stop around me, I was so engrossed in hearing this conversation.
When Devon spoke, his voice was full of unadulterated hatred. “Took you long enough.”
I shot up from my chair, my eyes scanning the room to find a quieter corner. I knew now this hadn’t been an accidental pocket dial. Aaron had wanted me to hear this conversation. He’d figured out who had set him up, and it was worse than either of us had imagined.
“Excuse me,” I breathed, pushing through the crowd.
A woman in a fur jacket cursed at me when I bumped into her, but I didn’t care. I made a beeline for the bathroom, moving as quickly as I could without breaking into a sprint. I only heard bits and pieces of the conversation as I moved through the noisy crowd, every moment costing me potential vital information.
Come on, Aaron. Keep him talking.
I slammed the bathroom door shut behind me and locked it, then turned the volume all the way up on my phone and switched it to speaker. The tiny space amplified Aaron’s voice, and it reverberated back in a way I prayed an outdated iPhone mic could pick up. I opened the voice recorder app, running it in the background as Devon’s plan unfolded, hoping to preserve some kind of evidence. I didn’t know if Aaron could use this conversation to prove his innocence or not, but I was certain he’d called me for a reason.
“Okay, Devon, you’ve had your fun. You proved your point and made an ass of me. You can call this prank off now.”
“Prank? You still don’t get it, do you? You still don’t take me seriously. Jesus Christ, Aaron, what do I have to do, hold a gun to your head?”
“Fine, fine, don’t get so dramatic. What do you want, huh? A promotion? A higher stake in the company?”
“I don’t want a bigger piece of the pie. I want it all.”
My breath caught in my throat.
“Ever since we were kids, you’ve passed me over,” Devon said, years of harbored bitterness tipping his words like poison. “You pushed me and pushed me to do my best in school, to be the greatest at work, and for what? So you can take all the glory and the credit … and give me all the grunt work. You’re just as bad as Dad.”
“Watch your mouth,” Aaron growled.
“You’re just proving my point! But that’s the thing. You never fucking listen, do you? No matter what I suggest or how nice I ask, I’m just stupid, little Devon who can’t do a damn thing right. Well, I’m sick of it. I did my waiting. I’ve paid my dues and it got me nowhere. So now, I’m taking what’s owed me, and I’m going to set this company back on the right track.”
“So, the missing money? The rumors about me in the papers? The accusations of embezzlement and oversight? That was all you?”
Aaron was baiting him, trying to get him to confess to all his wrongdoings, and I realized that he must have intended for me to take this to the authorities once I had enough to prove Aaron’s innocence. I prayed Devon didn’t catch on to what his brother had planned, especially since he was proving a lot smarter than either of us had ever given him credit for.
But to my great relief, he took the bait.
“Oh, that and more. Do you know how easy it is to take a little off the top before the profits sift back into the expenses? The first thing I’m going to do when I’m CEO is fire every accountant we employ, just for starters. And the rumors? The rumors were the easiest part. You aren’t exactly the most likable person. But that’s all child’s play. You’ve got no idea what I’ve got in store for Audrey Miller.”
“You leave Audrey out of this.”
Devon laughed. “Why should I? She might be your little piece on the side, but you let her get way too involved in our business. When I’m done with her, she’ll never work in this city again, and you’ll have yourself to thank for it. Think about that when you’re rotting away in prison. But don’t worry, I’ll send you some magazines and a card at Christmas.”
God, Devon wasn’t pulling any punches. Even though he didn’t strike me as the kind of guy to become physically violent with anyone, I worried for Aaron’s safety.
“You should watch what you’re saying,” Aaron snarled, and my fear of escalation skyrocketed.
“Or what? You don’t have evidence. You put your hands on me, and you’ll be in for assault and battery, not just embezzlement. But you know what? I’m happy you found out. The look on your face was worth the two years it took to set this whole thing up.”
“You could have come to me.” I detected a hint of pain in Aaron’s voice. “We could have talked, Devon. We’re brothers, goddammit.”
“You haven’t treated me like your equal in a long time,” Devon said in an icy tone, and I could tell from the conviction in his voice that it was true. “I’m done being your baby brother. Go foist the part onto some other poor sap. Goodbye, Aaron. We’re done here.”
There was the slam of a door, and then crushing, empty silence. My breathing was uneven—I inhaled once, twice, and then exhaled. I opened my mouth to speak, but there was the scuffle of the phone being grabbed off a table and
the dull click of the line going dead.
With a trembling finger, I ended the recording and saved the file, labeling it “evidence.”
The police. I had to get to the police.
I tore out of the bathroom like a bat out of hell, hurrying past the line of irritated women that had formed outside the bathroom and heading toward the door. To my great surprise and even greater relief, Detectives Mosedale and Sawyer were lingering by my table, hands tucked in their pockets, eyes scanning the cafe.
“Thank God,” I blurted when I saw them. “Listen, I—”
Mosedale cut me off with the sharp courtesy of someone in a profession where it was best not to let other people speak. “Miss Miller, you need to come with us. We need to ask you a few questions regarding your involvement in the Patterson investigation.”
“Involvement?” I repeated in confusion. Then, I remembered Devon’s threat, and my stomach sank. “Oh, no. There’s been some mistake—”
“No mistake, Miss Miller,” Sawyer said, taking a step toward me.
“I know things you need to know, all right?” I turned back to Mosedale who I’d decided was the most reasonable of the pair. “Things that will change what you think about this investigation. You just have to listen to me.”
“If you feel like confessing, we can go take your statement right now,” he suggested. “Someplace … quieter.”
I bristled, nearly baring my teeth at him like an animal. “You’re not listening. I’m innocent. Aaron’s innocent!”
My voice was building, bordering on hysteria.
Sawyer gave me an almost pitying look. “Miss, we have probable cause.”
I tried to protest, but, within a moment, I was ushered out of the shop by two people proficient in not making a scene, my latte forgotten on the table. There was a black, unmarked police car parked just outside, and, before I could even note what make and model it was, I was half-guided, half-jostled into the backseat. Sawyer, to my great distaste, joined me there while Mosedale slipped into the driver’s seat.
Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology Page 219
