Mandy shook her head slowly, her eyes wide. “Why?” She looked so vulnerable, so confused, that Duncan couldn’t resist offering her some measure of comfort. He reached for her hand and squeezed lightly, then laced their fingers together.
He turned back to Destiny, but her eyes were fixated on their hands, so he quickly yanked his back.
Destiny blinked and focused on Mandy. “Because he loves you,” she said, as if that was obvious.
Mandy let out a shaky laugh, edged with bitterness. “If that were true, he’d support me, not force me into the mold he wants me to be. He must have just wanted the attention—or to head off any bad press.”
Destiny’s face went soft with sympathy. “Maybe so, but don’t you think it’ll be worth seeing him, letting him know you’re okay?”
“No thanks,” Mandy said. “I’ll call him later.”
Duncan cleared his throat. “It might not be a bad thing to see him. We’ll need him off our backs if we continue this investigation. Might be better to explain what’s been happening face-to-face.”
Mandy’s jaw clenched. She hadn’t seen her father for almost two years, and he knew she didn’t want to start now, not until he apologised.
“He does love you, in his own way,” Duncan reminded her.
She rolled her eyes. “Fine.” Obviously done with the conversation, she turned back to the rest of the team, who had been watching them avidly. “So, what else have you planned?”
They all spoke at once, stopped, then Destiny stepped up. “We couldn’t find the information you’d gathered on Tulane.”
Duncan pulled out the USB from his pocket. “That’s where we were this morning.”
“Cool. Well, do you think it’s time to go to the authorities?”
He gave Destiny a long look. “Yeah, I guess so. I think we’ve done all we can without official backing.”
“Good. I’ve been looking into the various Assistant District Attorneys. I didn’t want to go to one only to find out they were deep in someone’s pocket.”
“What did you find?”
“There’s one. A woman. Keeps her personal life personal, and no scandals I can tell.”
“Okay. Do you trust her?”
Destiny shrugged. “It’s hard to say. The only reason I think she might be the one is because everyone in my department hates her.” She made a face.
Duncan laughed. “So you picked the ADA that corrupt cops hate the most?”
“Exactly.”
“Okay, sounds like reasonable logic.” He handed her the USB.
“You never can tell, though, right?”
“Make the appointment and meet her face-to-face. Follow your instincts. I trust you.”
She nodded once, her chest puffing up with pride.
Duncan turned to the rest of the room. “Paul, I had a brainwave while we were gone. Can you look into the alumni of Tulane University? Maybe Tulane is a nickname.”
Paul nodded.
“And also see if you can pull security footage of the area around the office, see if we can get footage of who planted the bomb.”
“On it,” Paul told him.
“Blake, can you see if you can find what kind of explosives were used in the bomb. I don’t care how you get the info, but once you know, see if you can trace it back to Tulane.”
“Sure, boss.”
“Sam, we lost most of our arsenal in the fire. Can you gather what we have left and get some more, just in case?”
She grinned. “Absolutely.”
“Zack, can you copy the information from Destiny’s USB and go through it again? I know you had a look at the financial statements, but see if you can find something else. Also, I think I saw some properties listed as part of their assets. Can you see if Tulane might be hiding out at one of those?”
“Definitely.”
Duncan looked around his team—the four core members, Destiny, and now the partners of each, too. And there was Mandy, who was definitely on his team, much to his annoyance. Or was it? Because the warm feeling that settled in his gut at the thought wasn’t irritation.
“Should we go visit your father?”
She gritted her teeth. “I guess. You don’t have to come with me.”
He snorted. “Are you kidding? I’m not leaving you unguarded until this whole mess is over with.”
She sighed. “Fine. Let’s get this done.”
They said their goodbyes and left the others to get on with their assigned tasks. Duncan prepared himself for a meeting with Mr. Lennox. They’d never come face-to-face, but Duncan had every reason to be wary.
Though for some reason he couldn’t quite fathom, he felt more like a teenage boy meeting his girlfriend’s father for the first time.
Mandy walked into the familiar offices of Lennox Industries and a sick sense a dread pooled in her stomach. She didn’t want to face her father, not now.
She’d nearly died last night, and then she and Duncan had…well. She wasn’t exactly in the right frame of mind to deal with a man she loved but would never understand her.
“Are you okay?” asked Duncan’s rumbling voice as they stepped from the elevator. She nodded, secretly pleased he was there with her.
She walked the familiar path to her father’s office and opened the door without knocking.
In the time since she’d seen Morris Lennox, whenever she pictured him, it was always behind his desk. And that was exactly where he sat now. But the image was off slightly.
He’d changed. He was more gaunt, his bags more pronounced beneath the eyes. Guilt clutched at her chest as she realised he wasn’t taking care of himself. And he needed to be, since he’d had a heart attack a few years before.
His face changed when he saw her, moving from annoyance to relief. He stood, rounded his large desk, and threw his arms about her. She stayed stiff, not returning the hug.
“Amanda,” he murmured. “You’re all right.”
“I’m fine, so you can call off the press hounds.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders and held her away from him, studying her face.
“You’re angry with me.” He seemed surprised by this.
She let out a hollow laugh. “We’ve barely spoken for years, and when you come out of the woodwork, it’s only to ruin a plan and put our lives in danger?”
Blood drained from his face. “What?”
Mandy let out a long breath. Some of her anger dissipated, leaving weariness in its wake. “Look, I appreciate you looking for me. But there are things happening beyond your knowledge.”
“That’s because you don’t talk to me!” he protested.
Mandy narrowed her eyes. “Because every time I do, you question my choices and try to get me to return to your company.”
Her father’s jaw hardened. “Is it so wrong that I want my daughter back where she belongs?”
“I don’t belong here, Dad. Not anymore.”
They were silent for a long moment, sizing each other up.
Her father smiled. “I haven’t greeted you properly. Come in. Tell me about what’s been happening with you.” He walked back over to his desk and settled behind it.
Mandy glanced up at Duncan, willing him to devise some ingenious method of escape. He just shrugged apologetically.
Resigned to her fate, Mandy strode into the room and took one of the chairs opposite her father. “Did you ever meet Duncan?” she asked, gesturing to her business partner.
Her father’s eyes snapped to Duncan. “So you’re the one that lured my daughter away from me?”
Duncan froze halfway to sitting. “Ah, we started a company, yes.”
Mandy leaned forward. “Father, I quit my job before I even talked to Duncan about starting Soldiering On.”
“And look where it got you.”
Mandy reared back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you ended up without an office, without a job, and as you said earlier, in danger. If you’d stayed working
for me, none of this would ever have happened.”
Mandy narrowed her eyes. “No, I would’ve just been underappreciated, forced to work a job I hated to try and please you.”
Her father’s face softened. “I never underappreciated you.”
“Didn’t you? You took me for granted, assuming you could give my hard work to someone else, not listen to what I wanted, what I dreamed of. I thought I could make a difference working for you, but it was just a lie you told to get me where you wanted me.”
“If you’d told me how you felt—”
“I did. You just didn’t listen.”
They stared at each other for a long time, a standoff which neither wanted to break. Duncan shifted uneasily.
Her father’s expression soured as he glanced Duncan’s way, but he didn’t continue the line of conversation. “So, what’s this I hear about you being in danger?”
Mandy exhaled. “There are some bad men after us. It would be better if you stayed out of the press and laid low. Otherwise you might become a target yourself.”
He scoffed. “I’ll be fine. This building is secure.”
“So was ours,” Mandy murmured.
Morris’ expression turned serious. “You should get better security.”
“I have good security. This man just happens to be very dangerous.”
Morris eyed Duncan doubtfully, but said nothing. “So who is after you? Maybe I can talk to him, or one of my senator friends, see if he can’t be dealt with.”
Mandy tilted her head, assessing her father. Her father that knew every important man in the city. He was friends with politicians, socialites…and powerful businessmen.
“Do you know a man named Tulane?” she asked.
His expression brightened. “Yes. Gregory. Great man, excellent businessman. Not sure how he got that nickname, but it’s what he’s known as.” His expression turned sly. “I hear he owns your competition?”
But Mandy didn’t hear him. “Gregory?” she choked out. “His name is Gregory?”
“Yes, of course. Why do you ask?”
“He’s the one that’s after us.” The effort to speak the words was Herculean.
Her father laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Why would a professional, respected man like that come after you?”
Mandy hesitated. “We’ve had some disagreements with him in the past. I assume you heard about Erica Daintree?”
Her father laced his fingers together and settled them on his desk. “His former partner that tried to sabotage the company? Yes.” He slanted a glance Duncan’s way, and Duncan’s fingers dug into the arms of the chair. Mandy didn’t dare look at his face.
“That’s not exactly what happened,” she said, focussing on her father. “She was just the scapegoat for Beaton’s illegal activities.”
“I can’t believe that.” Morris was adamant.
Mandy took a deep breath, trying to tamp down her frustration. She needed her father to believe her, particularly if he had access to her enemy. To Gregory.
Duncan leaned forward before she could say anything else, his gaze fixed on Morris. “What’s Gregory’s last name?” His voice was whisper quiet, but cut like a knife.
Morris fixed his attention on Duncan. “How do you not know?”
“He covers his tracks well. Suspicious, wouldn’t you think?”
“Or you have the wrong man,” Morris countered.
Mandy broke in. “We know it’s him, Dad.”
Morris turned his gaze to her. “How about I call him right now and clear all this up?” He reached for the phone, and Mandy dived forward to stop him before he reached it.
“That’s not a good idea.”
“And why not?”
“Because you’ll make yourself a target. Dad, please believe me. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” As she said the words, Mandy realised they were true. Despite all her problems with her father, she loved him and couldn’t bear it if anything happened to him. Particularly now, when things were so unresolved between them.
Morris froze, slowly turning his gaze on her. “Alright,” he said eventually. “I’ll leave it for now. But I can’t imagine he’d do this.”
“Just trust me, for now,” she urged him.
He nodded, and she slowly eased back into her seat.
“Are you sure you don’t need my help with protection?”
Duncan spoke first. “She doesn’t.”
Worried their glares meant the two men were about to start a pissing contest, Mandy hurried to interrupt them. “It’ll all be over soon, either way.” Not that either man had a claim to her, a right to be possessive. Her father ignored her wishes, and Duncan rejected her at every turn. Even last night, after they’d—she forcibly wrenched her thoughts away from that.
Morris eyed Duncan for a long second, then sat back with a cheery smile. “So, darling daughter, when are you coming back to work for me. Now that you don’t have a company anymore—“
“We’ll rebuild,” she said quickly. “The building is gone but our name and our people aren’t.”
His expression soured. “Is that so?”
“Besides, we grew so big, it was about time we moved into a larger space, right?” she asked Duncan. He grunted in reply, too busy glaring at her father.
“I’m…glad you’re doing so well,” her father said, though it sounded like he had to choke the words out. Mandy smiled, appreciating the effort just the same.
“We better go,” she told her father. And not a moment too soon. No doubt Duncan and her father would go to battle if left in the same room much longer, the way they eyed each other.
“I’ll call you if I hear anything more,” her father said grudgingly.
Mandy hesitated. “My phone was destroyed, but you can find us here if you find out anything more.” She wrote Zack’s address on a scrap piece of paper and handed it to him with a concillatory smile.
They stood, and Duncan was halfway to the door before he spun back around. Mandy tried to catch him, but it was too late.
“What’s Gregory’s last name?” he asked again.
Mandy froze, staring at her father and wondering how he’d react. Whether he’d choose to protect his friend or help his daughter.
“Fairfax,” he said. “Gregory Fairfax.”
Mandy grinned. Gregory Fairfax, we’re coming for you.
Chapter 7
The office of Hannah Armstrong, Assistant District Attorney, was professional but comfortable. A few Degrees and achievements were framed on the wall, a few photos of a woman with various people that could only be her family dotted the space, and the desk was weighed down with mountains of paperwork.
The woman herself was nowhere to be seen, so Destiny busied herself examining the photos of the woman she would meet, trying to glean any instinctive information that might help her decide to trust her.
If this was Hannah Armstrong, then she was pretty, with dark hair, fair skin, and hazel eyes. She smiled a lot, but Destiny didn’t necessarily think that was a mark for her character. She’d met plenty of people in her line of work that hid their dark sides behind friendly smiles.
The door opened, and the woman from the photographs walked in. Only, she was much more severe than in the pictures. She wore a sharp suit, pointy-toed heels, and had her dark hair back in a sleek bun.
“You must be Officer Jones,” she said. “I’m sorry for the wait.” She walked behind her desk and sat. Destiny could almost hear Hannah’s groan of relief as the weight came off her feet. She smothered a grin.
“I am, but you can call me Destiny.”
Hannah eyed her. “Destiny? That’s an unusual name.”
Destiny shrugged. “I had a brother named Michael. My mother didn’t like any of the female Biblical names—couldn’t see me as a Mary—so she got creative with it.”
Hannah laughed. “Well, I like it.” Their gazes met and held. A frisson of awareness sizzled down Destiny’s spine and she started in surprise. Was
ADA Hannah Armstrong interested in women? Or was Destiny just imagining it?
Hannah glanced at her papers and cleared her throat. Destiny was almost sure she could see a faint blush staining the woman’s cheeks.
“So what can I do for you today, Officer Jones?”
“Destiny,” she corrected.
“Destiny,” Hannah repeated as if tasting the name on her tongue.
“I want to…run a hypothetical scenario by you to see what you think.”
Hannah narrowed her eyes. “I see.”
“Say a police officer was given some evidence that a man—a very powerful man—was involved in some wrongdoing.”
“Okay,” said Hannah, drawing the word out. She grabbed a pad of paper from under her files and began scribbling notes.
“Only there are two problems. One is this evidence is not necessarily admissible in court.”
Hannah’s gaze snapped up, and she searched Destiny’s expression. Destiny held still while the other woman examined her, resisting the urge to squirm.
“So it was illegally obtained?” Hannah asked as though she already knew the answer.
“Yes, but not by the officer in question.”
Hannah cracked a smile at that, then quickly smothered it. “I see. And the other problem?”
“Hmmm?” Destiny asked, somewhat distracted by the long column of Hannah’s throat on display.
“You said there were two problems,” Hannah reminded her. “What’s the other one?”
“Oh, right. Um, hypothetically, the officer and the people that obtained the information don’t necessarily know who the man in question is.”
Hannah stilled. No sound permeated the door, so the room was filled with a tense silence.
“I’m not sure what you want me to do,” Hannah said after a while.
Destiny sighed and gave Hannah a last, thorough look. They’d have to trust someone eventually, and all her research told her Hannah could be that person. And even if she wasn’t, what then? News might get back to Tulane that they’d gone to the authorities about him, but surely he already suspected they would. The only thing he didn’t know was exactly what evidence they had against him.
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