After the call ended, Beth said, “I knew my uncle liked to gamble, and wrote about it in my journal. In his younger days, he had some run-ins with the police. My father told me of it, but as far as I know, Martin reformed. He hasn’t shared much about his personal life, so all I know is from other sources.”
“So we know that he’s capable of misdeeds. Maybe he’s behind all of this.”
“Since my father got sick, my uncle has been the head of the family. My brother is acting as CEO, but Uncle Martin has control of major decisions, and has a lot of influence.” Beth looked thoughtful. “My uncle is a cold-hearted man, and he fired anyone who wouldn’t go along with his redirection of the company.”
“We need to look closer at your uncle,” Wyatt picked up his phone. “For now, we should call the police, file a report. I doubt they will find the burglar, but still we should have the incident on record.”
“I suppose so.” Beth glanced at the wreckage. “I guess we should have left everything like it was.”
“Probably, but at this point, it really doesn’t matter. The question is: how much do we tell them?”
Beth paced. “We’re only guessing at most of it. I say that we give the police as little as possible. It’s safer that way, for now.” She motioned toward his phone. “Go ahead and call, so we can get this over with.”
Chapter 6
The whole situation was unsettling. Every time Beth turned around, there was some other mishap. What next? Now she didn’t feel safe in her own home, with security that she’d thought couldn’t be broached. So much for security systems—although Wyatt assured her that Stealth would install a better one.
Beth’s head was reeling. The innocent notes she’d scribbled in a journal about her family’s history had garnered more interest than she’d imagined. She racked her brain to pinpoint what she’d said that had posed a threat. Yet without knowing who was behind all of this, or what the person feared, she was at a loss.
The police didn’t take long getting there, or in looking around. The consensus was that it was an amateur burglary, though the cop in charge had no clue why valuables weren’t taken. Beth didn’t offer any theories, just answered his inane questions.
“I’m through here,” the cop said. “I’ll be in touch if we find anything.”
Beth didn’t hold out hope for that. She closed the door behind him. “I’ll call the cleaning crew. This place is a mess.” It looked like she’d had a wild party, and seeing her personal belongings treated with such disregard was disheartening.
“I’ll text the office. Travis can have a local company install the new security system.”
“Why don’t I find that reassuring?” Beth stepped over things strewn about, and went to her office to get her laptop. While she was there, she grabbed a sketchbook partially filled with drawings and stuffed it into a satchel.
Wyatt appeared in the doorway. “That’s taken care of.” He walked over to her. “I’ll carry that for you,” he said, and reached for the laptop. “We need a quiet place to go. It’s time to take a look at that data from your brother’s computer.”
“We can walk over to the Marriott. It’s not far, and it has that great terrace that overlooks the park.”
Wyatt motioned toward the door. “You lead, I’ll follow.”
“The cleaning crew has keys, so we don’t need to wait for them.” Beth didn’t want to set eyes on her place again until it was in some semblance of order. A stranger had taken liberties in her private home.
Outside in the fresh air, Beth breathed deeply, striving to restore a sense of calm. She couldn’t let this get to her. There were more important things to focus on—like staying alive, for one. She hefted her satchel higher on her shoulder and increased her stride; walking was a balm to the soul.
Glancing at Wyatt, she said, “What I want to know is why you didn’t contact me when you got out of the Navy.”
Without missing a step, Wyatt said, “How did we get on that subject?”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I was on the outs with my family, so I wasn’t thrilled about a visit to New York.” Wyatt looked over at her. “Besides, I thought you’d changed. After your antics before I left, I didn’t think you were the same person anymore.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You want the truth?”
Beth glared at him.
“Okay, I thought you’d turned into a snobby rich bitch, and that you’d live up to your snooty name, Elizabeth Marie.”
That was the ultimate insult. “Because I was snippy before you left, you thought I’d succumbed to the temptations of money, that I’d become one of them?”
Wyatt shrugged.
“And besides which…may I remind you that I didn’t choose my name. I was named after my great-grandmother, so there.” Beth stopped mid-stride, and Wyatt turned to face her.
“Is that what you still think…that I’m some spoiled brat who considers I’m better in some way, just because I was born into a wealthy family?” Beth narrowed her eyes. “You don’t know me at all.”
“I can see that now,” Wyatt said. “I was a fool to think it.”
“Damn right.” Warmth filled Wyatt’s chocolate-brown eyes, and Beth nearly kissed him. Where had that come from? She turned and started walking again, unsure how to deal with what had just happened between them.
Fortunately, the hotel was in sight, so Beth shifted gears. She wasn’t out of the woods with the life threats, and should pay attention to gaining the upper hand with the enemy, not going all sentimental with Wyatt—even if he was unbearably handsome.
But Beth couldn’t let it go, and once inside the hotel, she said, “Speaking of being involved with the wealthy, you’re a bodyguard for VIPs…in case you forgot.”
“I just guard them. I don’t get involved with them.”
Was that supposed to mean that Wyatt didn’t intend to get involved with her either? Beth dropped the subject and headed toward the elevator to the terrace restaurant.
Wyatt picked a table that was nearest the wall, and had the best view to the park from above. It was also more private, so Beth could do her research uninterrupted. The waiter took drink orders and went off to get the iced teas.
Beth dumped her bag on an empty chair and pulled out her sketchbook, in case inspiration struck. When Wyatt leaned over the table so he could see better, she handed him the book. “Here, you can look if you want.”
“I see you’re serious about sketching. What are they of?”
“Oh, various things: satire on big business, wealth and greed, or political stuff.”
“I didn’t know you were interested in politics.”
“I’m not, but I get a kick out of highlighting the absurdities.”
“So you research the dirty deeds, keep notes in a journal—which is now stolen, I might add—and then create satirical cartoons.”
“Something like that.”
While Beth set up the laptop then plugged in the flash drive, Wyatt flipped the pages of her book. “These are really good. What do you plan to do with them?”
“I just sketch them because I like to.”
“Why not sell them, and do something with your skill? Cartooning is a talent; it shouldn’t be wasted.”
“Why do you care?” Beth couldn’t help it if she was sensitive about the subject. The less anyone else knew about what she was good at, the better. Once she allowed anyone to see her ability, expectations would follow. She didn’t want that.
Once the data had uploaded to her computer, Beth plunked away on the keyboard, ignoring Wyatt. She was vaguely aware of him ordering food, but wasn’t really hungry. The information on her screen absorbed her. Even Wyatt, eye candy that he was, didn’t draw her attention.
As the data flew by, from one screen to the next, Beth was more intrigued. She scrolled through page after page, but no unusual facts or figures popped out. Her memory was good, and she had clear recall of what she’
d seen of the Foster International accounting history.
Things seemed to match up, and most of what her brother did from day to day was thoroughly boring. “I’m glad I don’t have to stand in as CEO. I don’t know how Kyle takes it.”
On the second pass, Beth spotted a few transactions that she’d missed. It was some sort of covert deal, not one that had been included in the regular books. She would have remembered. On the scent now, she used her brother’s access to get into bank records.
At first, the details appeared straightforward, the entries normal. But when she followed the trail, it paid off. After a bit of effort, she was able to hack into older financial records that only her uncle had access to. A significant amount of liquidated stocks followed by heavy withdrawals were a red flag.
Yet her uncle had accused her of embezzling. It was more likely that he had been usurping funds. Even if he was the controller, the board of directors would look askance at such activity.
“I found something,” Beth said.
Wyatt stopped eating to listen.
“I almost missed it, but my uncle has been draining money out of the company. He has very cleverly covered it up. And also, it looks like my brother has been doing his bidding.”
“You think they’re conspiring to steal money?”
“I can’t be sure,” Beth said. “No wonder my uncle accused me of embezzling and threw me out. I was the perfect scapegoat. Plus, he wouldn’t want me digging into the books. While anyone else might view me as an airhead punk chick, no more than the owner’s daughter who was given a job out of pity…” She looked into Wyatt’s eyes. “My uncle knew better. He was afraid of what I’d discover, and he tossed me out before I could do any damage.”
“Is there enough evidence there to go to the police and file charges?”
“It’s a family matter, and I already know the police won’t care about solving this crime more than I do. It’s personal,” Beth said. “We’d need additional evidence, anyway.”
“Make copies of the documents, and email them to Cooper. I’m sure you can manage encrypting it before transmission.”
Beth managed a smile. “You have a lot of faith.”
“I’ll give you his secure email and let him know that something is on the way.” Wyatt scrolled on his phone to text Stealth, while Beth considered what would be the safest way to transfer the data. There were a couple of options, so she chose the quickest.
“Coop is watching for it,” Wyatt said. “Now I’m wondering, what exactly did Martin accuse you of? Did he show these transactions to you, and allege that you were guilty of theft?”
“Nope, he revealed very little. And I was in no position to press for confirmation. Both my uncle and my brother claimed that I’d done the deed, and no one else at Foster would dare assume differently.”
“Now we know why he wouldn’t show you the evidence,” Wyatt said.
“Yeah, it would have incriminated him, not me.” Beth was puzzled. “Kyle must be in on it. These transactions were made from his computer.”
“I’d say our next step is to have another chat with Kyle. That should give us more ammunition…” Wyatt’s expression darkened, and Beth was instantly alert.
“Don’t look over, but the dude that just walked in doesn’t belong here. Something’s off,” Wyatt said. “Act like everything’s normal, but stand up as if we’re about to leave.”
Beth’s heart pounded. Everything is normal…right. She stood up and reached to the far side of the laptop. Then she removed the tiny drive and slipped it into her pocket, moving slowly so as not to appear alarmed.
A shadow blocked the sun, and Beth was afraid to look up.
“We’re leaving, if you want this table,” Wyatt said, and Beth stared at a man who was no more than a foot away. Her breath hitched.
The man appeared of Asian descent, and looked short standing next to Wyatt. But his meaty biceps bulged at the edge of his short sleeves, and flexed as he spoke. “I’ll take the laptop.”
“I don’t think so.” Wyatt looked at the man, tensed and prepared to fight.
“You should do this the easy way. You will hand it over, one way or the other.”
Wyatt made a fist. “And why is that?”
“I’m with security at Foster International. It seems your little girlfriend here was snooping where she shouldn’t have been.”
The security cameras at the company, hidden discreetly, flashed in Beth’s mind. She should have thought of that.
“The laptop is hers,” Wyatt said, “so I’m afraid you can’t have it.”
Beth’s mouth was dry. She dared not speak. Would the guy harm her in front of witnesses? Yet before she settled on an answer, the man lunged for the computer. In a blinding flash, Wyatt yanked it from the table and flung it over the wall.
Out of the corner of her eye, Beth saw her laptop soar into empty space, then drop like a stone. It was gone.
With a growl, the supposed security guard pulled a gun and aimed it at Wyatt’s belly. In the same instant, Wyatt pivoted and trapped the guy’s gun hand, driving the barrel toward the adversary’s chest. He yanked the barrel over and pulled the other guy forward.
Before Wyatt could take the gun, the security guard leapt up, kicking both knees under the weapon. The gun flew out, over the wall, toward the treetops below. When the guy’s feet hit the ground, Wyatt threw a punch, and his knuckles connected with the man’s jaw.
There was a resounding thump, then the attacker fell back, hitting his head on the stucco wall.
“Run!” Wyatt shouted, then hit the man again.
The cries of other diners faded into background noise. The noisy pounding in Beth’s chest filled her ears as she ran through the terrace, dodging tables and people, like navigating an obstacle course.
Then Wyatt was beside her. He took her hand and sprinted. Beth glanced back and spotted the attacker, already up and headed their way. She slipped the flash drive from her pocket and dumped it into a pink cocktail perched at the edge of a table. That should wipe out the data.
She didn’t believe for a second that this dude worked for Foster. But if he wanted the information, that was reason enough to get rid of it.
Wyatt raced out of the restaurant, down the hallway, and across the lobby while Beth tried to keep up. She whipped around the corner of a pillar, sliding on the polished marble floors, and caught sight of the guy in hot pursuit.
Without wasting a second, Wyatt dragged her to the stairwell and started taking steps two at a time. Out of breath, Beth doubled over. Wyatt wrapped his strong arm around her waist and lifted her off her feet. He carried her one more flight, then burst through the door to whatever floor they were on.
Beth’s feet hit the floor, and she jogged around a corner with him. Stopping at a room, Wyatt took out a slender instrument and jiggled the lock. Magically, Beth was inside, and he shoved the door closed.
Panting hard, Beth managed to ask, “Whose room is this?”
“No idea.”
Wyatt stood by the door, ready to nab any man who dared cross the threshold. There was nary a sound, nor any motion to indicate any unwelcome entry.
Pacing the carpet, ready to bolt again if she had to, Beth said, “What if someone had been in here?”
“I guess we would have improvised.” Wyatt put his hand on the doorknob. “You wait for me. I’m going back out to put that guy out of commission.”
“Wait!” Beth reached out. “You can’t leave me. If you’re going, then I am going with you.”
“Not a chance. It’s too dangerous. I would have pummeled the guy already, but I had to get you to safety.” Wyatt stood in front of the door, ready for battle. Sweat glistened on his forehead, and his chest was pumped like he’d just had an encounter with a set of barbells. He was a warrior, and dammit, he’d stolen her heart.
“You saved me,” Beth said, stepping closer. “That’s enough. That guy doesn’t matter. If we wait it out in here, he’ll leave.”
<
br /> “I’m sure he’ll leave,” Wyatt said. “He wanted that laptop. There’s no reason to stick around now.”
“Then why was he chasing us?”
“Maybe he hoped you had the data on a drive…just like you do.” Wyatt held out his hand. “Where’s the flash drive?”
Beth smiled, despite her trembling body. “It’s now an ice cube in some lady’s cocktail out there.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did; it’s all I could think of that fast.”
Wyatt laughed. “That’s pretty good,” he said. “I’m not sure I would have thought of that.”
With a mock pout, Beth said, “And, you know, that was a perfectly good laptop you pitched over the wall into Central Park.”
“It was better than having our friend walk away with it.”
Beth was confident the data had been transmitted to Cooper’s computer, so all was not lost. “What do you say we use the room phone and call for backup? This hotel must have security, don’t you suppose?”
“I’ll call.” Wyatt strutted over to the phone. His stride was reminiscent of his baseball days, when Beth had seen him walk off the field after a win. He did a lot to boost a woman’s confidence. With him in tow, it had given her attackers more to deal with than they’d expected.
While waiting for security, real security, to arrive, Wyatt sat in an armchair. Beth slid onto his lap with her arms around his neck. “You have a talent for saving my life.”
“So far.”
Wyatt’s body was warm, his breathing still elevated from the chase. His muscles were hard, and his arms were strong. Beth mused that it might have been worth nearly dying, again, to be in his protective embrace. When he looked into her eyes, Beth glanced away and stood up.
What in the world was wrong with her? Did a near-death experience make her hot for the nearest hunky male she could get her hands on? No, that wasn’t it. Wyatt had a certain charm, a definite hero/protector image that had gotten to her, despite her vow to keep this business only.
When there was a knock on the door, Beth nearly jumped out of her skin. It had been that kind of week.
“It’s security,” Wyatt said, and went to let them in.
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