The Billionaire's Heart: The Complete Series (Romance, Contemporary Romance, Billionaire Romance, The Billionaire's Heart Book 7)

by Nancy Adams

  “Nate, I saw pictures. She had her son set up a hidden camera, and it took pictures, and I saw them. I saw you holding her, I saw you kissing her—I saw you laying in a bed with her! You can't tell me you didn't do it when there are pictures to prove it. And don't say they're faked, my father had them checked, and the lab said there's a ninety-nine percent chance they're real; it's not likely she could fake them that well, now, is it?”

  “I don't know how they got faked, Katelynn, I only know they did, because I was never in any such situation with her. I'm going to prove this, Katelynn. I am not going to settle it out of court. I'm going to take it as far as necessary to prove that I didn’t do this, to prove it to you and to the rest of the world.”

  I didn't know what to say. “I don't know what to think, Nate. I want to believe you, I want so badly to believe you, to believe that everything we had was not a lie, but it's just not possible. Those pictures are too powerful.”

  I hung up without saying another word, and then I sat there and cried my eyes out for half an hour.

  John

  Chapter Four

  The Pirate's Way

  * * * * *

  There's always a bit of the pirate in everyone, and I can prove this with one simple little test: Show anyone a piece of gold, and then hide it. Next, tell them that if they can find it, they can have it. Then offer to sell them a map that tells exactly where you hid it, and the price is only a dollar.

  You'll sell the map, whether it's real or not, but if you just tell them they can have it if they can find it without the map, they'll spend all their energy trying to get you to tell them where it is, instead of looking for it. This is what I call the Pirate's Way, and it's how the vast majority of humanity operates. If I can get it cheap, I'll take it; otherwise, I want someone to just give it to me, so I don't have to expend any real effort.

  Con artists and blackmailers are all pirates, looking for treasure the easy way. The woman I sent to Nebraska to investigate was one of those; all she lacked was the parrot and the eye patch, and I could smell those around her somewhere.

  It was almost midnight. I'd arrived an hour earlier, flown in by a private jet that was on the ground and gone again within ten minutes. I'd arranged to have a rental car dropped at the airport for me, and it was there with the keys on top of the right rear tire, just as I'd asked, so I hopped in and set my GPS for Donna Bennet's home address. Might as well see what the terrain was like.

  She lived in a small house on the corner of two streets. There were three bedrooms, a kitchen, living room and two baths. It also had a large, enclosed back porch, and a small, open front porch. The only car in the driveway was her green '99 Ford Taurus. There were two bicycles in the front yard, and a German shepherd in the back.

  I took several photos of the place. The first thing I found interesting about it was that there was absolutely nowhere within a few hundred yards where a vehicle could be hidden, so for Nate to have come here, he would have had to park right on the street in front of the house. That would not be wise behavior for a man doing what he was accused of doing, but some people would say that would be exactly why he would do it.

  There were neighbors on the left and behind the house, and across both streets. From the look of the neighborhood and vehicles, this was where some of the less affluent residents lived, which is not a bad thing in and of itself. I made a note to try to speak with her neighbors, but not too soon.

  There wasn't much to do that night, so I went to the hotel I'd reserved and got checked in, then called back home to let my client's know I'd arrived and looked the situation over. For the next few days, I'd probably just watch the woman. That would mean going into the store and observing her there, as well, but if there's one thing I'm good at, it's presenting many different personae; I could go in and out a dozen times a day, and she'd never realize the same person was watching her.

  I kicked my shoes off and got a shower, then laid back on the bed and watched some TV. I wanted to be fresh in the morning, and relaxing just sounded good.

  I slept well, and rose early enough to go and park down the street from Bennet's place and watch the morning routine there. There were apparently three kids, two teens and a ten year old, and I saw a boy of about sixteen leave, followed a few minutes later by a girl a couple years younger. They both walked off toward where the high school was situated.

  A few moments after that, Donna Bennet came out with a younger boy, the ten year old, and they got into her car. I followed her as she took the boy to his school and dropped him off, and then she went back home. I parked in a different spot and continued to observe as she went back inside.

  About nine AM, I saw a car pull up in front of the house, and a man got out. I snapped several photos of him as he went inside.

  The man was in his late twenties or early thirties, about six-three or so, with blond hair and blue eyes. Physically, he resembled Nate Simmons in build, but looked nothing like him in the face. Still, his presence piqued my curiosity, and I took up the laser microphone I had in the back seat and aimed it at the nearest window of the house.

  Laser mikes are not perfect, but it's amazing what they can pick up by measuring the vibrations that sound causes in smooth objects, like a window pane. I adjusted the device until I got coherent sound.

  “...just got back from taking Mikey to school. How's it going?” That was Donna Bennet.

  The man's voice was next. “She's in her office. The gal you've got inside says she's been like a bear the past few days. I think that's probably to be expected, but most people get over a shock within a week or two, so she ought to come back to herself sometime soon.”

  Bennet: “As long as she's still upset, then she's still on my side. That's all that matters. The pictures might be good, but I still need her testimony that he was missing in action the day he got back from California, and always dropped her off before midnight. If she starts to believe his story, instead of mine, things can get bad.”

  Man: “Maybe we need to make sure she doesn't. I'll see what I can come up with.”

  Bennet: “Don't be in such a hurry! I don't have to go in until two, and the kids are gone. We've got time for a little fun!”

  The conversation ended, and what I heard next was only interesting because it might say something about the woman's character; it depended on whether this was her boyfriend, or someone she employed in the course of her plan. I needed to know who he was, so I snapped a shot of his car, being sure to get the license number, and emailed it to my office to be run through the DMV databases.

  The “fun” lasted about half an hour, and the guy came out, got into his car and left. I thought about following, but decided to stay put for the moment, and I'm glad I did. The laser mike was laying on the dash, still aimed at the window, and I suddenly heard a phone ringing.

  Bennet: “Hello? Yes, Mr. Burke! They what? Oh, you've got to be kidding! I can't believe they'd want this to get out! Yes, I will! Does Katelynn know yet? I see. Well, if they want a fight, then so be it! Yes, sir, I sure will. Thanks for letting me know! Uh-huh, bye-bye.”

  There was silence for a moment, and then I heard the faint sounds of a phone being dialed. “Jerry? It's me. My lawyer just called to tell me that Simmons has asked for the earliest court date possible, and that they're issuing a press release on the lawsuit! Well, what could I say? I guess they're going to fight it, but they've got to know it's going to be suicide for their company if they do, don't they? And of course, this means the whole town's gonna call me some kind of whore, for giving in to him instead of calling the cops! Well, if you think of anything, let me know as soon as you can, okay? Okay, later!”

  Well, this was interesting. I'd known the company wasn't going to settle, but hearing that they were going public about it on their own surprised me. I grabbed my phone and called Mike Davenport at their corporate office.

  “Mike, it's John. I just overheard the subject on a phone call, saying that her lawyer told her you’re iss
uing a press statement today?”

  I could hear him nodding through the phone, I swear. “Yep. Jackson says we have to put the other side on the defensive, so they're holding a full blown press conference in,” he must have checked his watch, “in about five minutes. Anything you want me to tell anyone?”

  “Just a hunch, at this point,” I said, “but I think she's got someone working behind the scenes on her side. Guy named Jerry, seems to be trying to keep Miss Burke off balance and on Bennet's side. And they've got someone inside the store reporting back to them, by the way. I'll find out who and let you know ASAP.”

  “Good job! I gotta get up there, I'll call you later.” He hung up and I sat there thinking. If the company was taking the offensive, then things here might come to a head sooner than I’d expected. I needed to know who the guy was, and who their “inside gal” was, and soon.

  No sooner than those thoughts went through my mind, my phone rang. It was my office, and I answered instantly. “Yeah?”

  “Hey, John, it's Kate. Got that license run for you, ready?”

  I snatched up my notepad. “Go.”

  “Owner is Gerald Patterson, twenty-eight years old. Lives at 1452 North Willis Avenue, North Platte. I did a record search on him, and get this: he's got two prior arrests for insurance fraud, no convictions. Could be he's working with our subject?”

  “Seems that way. I think I'll try to learn a little more about him. Thanks, Babe, I'll call you later when I know something more.” I cut the call, started the car and used GPS to find Patterson's house. It was on the other end of town, in an equally run down section, but I noticed he had several fairly expensive cars. Whatever he was into, it seemed to be lucrative, but maybe not lucrative enough to support his automotive hobby and still let him live in luxury. A guy like that, with experience in fraud, might jump at a chance to get in on a big score with someone shaking down a billionaire.

  Just another pirate.

  Nathanael

  Chapter Five

  The Gauntlet Is Thrown

  * * * * *

  I walked into the conference room at exactly eight AM, and was instantly floored by the number of reporters there. I'd been to company press conferences before, but I'd never seen anything like this. Good grief, I doubt the White House Press Room ever saw that many at once!

  That's an exaggeration, of course, but it seemed real to me at that moment. I was about to lay my life out for the whole world to pick apart, knowing full well that a lot of people would convict me in the court of public opinion before the ink was dry on the newspapers that would be printed later that day.

  Most of the top corporate staff was there, and I saw Mom and Dad sitting to one side, smiling at me. Dad gave me a thumbs up, and I repeated the gesture back to him.

  Jackson was there, and called the room to order. We'd decided that he would make the opening statement, and then I'd make mine and take questions.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the press, we thank you for coming this morning. What you’re about to hear is very unpleasant for us, but it's the kind of thing that many companies have to deal with from time to time, and we are no exception.” He paused for effect, and then went on. “We recently opened a new store in North Platte, Nebraska, and our new CEO, Nathanael Simmons, who was then a staff trainer, went there to train the new manager. Last week, an employee of that store filed a lawsuit against Mr. Simmons, alleging that he used threats and intimidation to coerce her into a secret sexual relationship. This employee, Donna Marie Bennet, had recently been found to be stealing small amounts of money from the store, and manipulating the computer records to make it appear that the thefts were being committed by the store's manager, Katelynn Burke. When this situation was brought to Mr. Simmons' attention, he investigated and found that the thefts had been committed because of a medical need of one of Ms. Bennet's children, and as a result, he did not terminate her, but instead agreed not to prosecute, and then gave her a substantial amount of cash from his own pocket to cover the balance of that need.” He paused again, and held up a hand to stop the questions that were already being shouted. “Mr. Simmons and Miss Burke had by this time developed a personal relationship. It is our position that Ms. Bennet must have felt that Mr. Simmons would at some point tell Miss Burke, and has made these allegations with the intent of preempting any action against her by Miss Burke.

  “We must also tell you,” he went on, “that Ms. Bennet had produced what we believe and maintain are manipulated photographs that seem to put Mr. Simmons with her in compromising positions. These photographs are being examined by experts even now, to determine how they can appear so authentic, when we know that they cannot be. I will now turn the floor over to Nathanael Simmons, who will make his own statement and then answer your questions.”

  I took a deep breath and moved to the podium that Jack had just vacated. The reporters were already shouting questions, but I ignored them for the moment.

  “Ladies and gentleman, I'm Nathanael Simmons,” I said, nervousness making me restate the obvious. “I want to basically restate a lot of what Mr. Miller has said.” Someone handed me a glass of water, and I took a sip before I went on.

  “I met Donna Bennet when I went to North Platte, Nebraska to train our new store's manager, Katelynn Burke. She was another new employee of the store, and seemed to be a very good one; so good, in fact, that she was selected to be the store's assistant manager a few weeks ago.

  “While I was there, Miss Burke and I discovered that we share many of the same interests and goals, and became romantically involved to some degree. I personally came to believe that she is, in fact, the woman I want to spend my life with, and it became quite obvious to everyone at the store that I felt that way. We kept it professional at work, but North Platte is not a large city, so we were seen out around town most evenings, having dinner, going to movies, and such.

  “About three weeks ago, as everyone knows, my father suffered a heart attack and decided to retire. I was installed as the new CEO that same week, and I made sure I was fully up to date on all of the newest matters affecting the company, before I prepared to return to North Platte to complete Miss Burke's training. In the course of those briefings, I was made aware that small amounts of money were coming up missing from the North Platte store, and that initial review of the computer records seemed to indicate that it was being taken by Miss Burke. I ordered a more complete investigation, and computer analysts employed by the company came to the conclusion, with plenty of evidence, that it was in fact Ms. Bennet who was manipulating the records in order to make it appear that the discrepancies were on the day shift, rather than the afternoon shift that she was running.” I paused for another sip of water.

  “On my return to North Platte, I visited Ms. Bennet at her home in the early afternoon and confronted her about the thefts. She initially denied it, and then began to cry as she told me about a medical condition of her daughter's that required expensive medications and weekly blood tests. Since she was still in her probationary period, her insurance had not yet been approved, and she hadn't been able to afford them. In desperation, she said, she began taking the money to be sure she could get these things for her daughter, and swore to me that she didn't realize that it looked like Miss Burke was doing it. I agreed not to fire her, on the condition that it never happened again, of course, and then gave her several hundred dollars to make sure she would not be short on those expenses again, until her probation was over. I also agreed not to tell Miss Burke, since Ms. Bennet was afraid of retribution or prejudice against herself if her manager learned of the situation. That was the only time I was ever at Md. Bennet's home, and the only time I was ever alone with her. As I had agreed, I did not tell anyone else about her involvement in the missing money, and only told Miss Burke that the situation had been handled and should not be a problem again in the future.

  “A few days later, I was called back to San Francisco to help plan a course of action over a legal issue. I said goodby
e to Miss Burke and flew back, and the next morning, I met with our legal and marketing staff to discuss that matter. When we were satisfied that our plan of action was satisfactory, I prepared to return to North Platte, but Miss Burke asked me to stay away for the weekend, saying she was sick. I later learned that Ms. Bennet had gone to her that day, while I was in the meetings with our staff, and made these accusations to her about my alleged coercion. She showed Miss Burke some photographs, the ones Mr. Miller alluded to, that do appear to show me in embarrassing sexual positions with Ms. Bennet, and they were so convincing that Miss Burke apparently believed them to be genuine.” Another sip of water. I'd never realized how thirsty it makes you to bare your soul.

  “Miss Burke, apparently believing the story and the photographs, then encouraged Ms. Bennet to take legal action against me, and asked her father, who is an attorney—and a man I respect and admire, incidentally—to take the case, which he did. We were notified this past Monday of the suit, and are preparing to defend against it in court. In the interests of honesty and transparency, we then decided to hold this press conference and lay the facts out for all of you.” I paused, and the questions began instantly. I pointed to a reporter in the front row.

  “Peter Starling, San Francisco Examiner. Mr. Simmons, did you have any kind of sexual relationship with Ms. Bennet?”

  “No, I did not, not at any time.” I pointed to a woman just behind him.

  “Kendra Kirby, Channel Nine News. Were you sexually involved with Miss Burke?”

  “No, I was not. Miss Burke and I had lightly discussed marriage, and agreed that we both wished to remain virgin until we were married.”