A Huge Mistake

by Laney Kay

  A Huge Mistake

  Laney Kay

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Before you go…

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Laney Kay

  1

  The Georgia Bulldogs losing the national championship game to Alabama was the second worst thing to happen to Lola Prentiss that day.

  It turns out the worst thing was finding the flash drive in her pocket.

  She didn’t notice it at first. When she and her friends walked into her loft, they flopped on her oversized white sectional sofa and quietly brooded. It was bad enough to lose in double overtime, but then to get stuck in that damn human traffic jam for fifty minutes totally sucked. They had all agreed it shouldn’t be that difficult to let people leave. Just open the damn doors and let people out. Instead, they had been herded in a huge mass toward one set of doors, which wasn’t built to handle almost eighty thousand people.

  What made it even worse was that Lola had the misfortune to meet up with several of her clients in the crowd. As a criminal defense attorney in Atlanta for more than twenty years, Lola had handled hundreds of cases, and running into her clients wasn’t a rarity. And apparently a bunch of her clients were football fans. What was unusual was her inability to get away from them. Usually, she could see them coming and make a quick getaway, if necessary, but being trapped like a rat in a very crowded maze made it impossible to avoid conversation.

  The first client was a check forger and a nice enough guy. He’d simply yelled, “Roll Tide”, hugged her neck and disappeared into the crowd. The second one was a drug user who’d cleaned up his act and was trapped in the shuffle with his wife and two kids. Lola was actually glad to see he was doing so well and greeted him and his wife with a smile, a commiserating shrug, and a sad, “Go Dawgs”.

  She couldn’t stand the third guy. Mitch Willard was a sleazy, little weasel of an accountant who had been arrested for embezzlement and Lola had gotten him the deal of the century in exchange for him basically paying a small fine. It turns out that Mitch was magical with numbers, but a total waste as a human being, and everywhere he worked, money disappeared into untraceable offshore accounts and shell companies with alarming regularity. Lord knows how much money he’d accumulated over the years because he was a great accountant, but even better at stealing money that wasn’t his. Lola had dealt with him as quickly as possible, with as little contact as possible, and was relieved that she hadn’t seen him the past several years.

  They had just cleared the first level ramp and were still slowly shuffling forward when Lola felt a tug on her right sweatshirt pocket. When she turned around, she saw Mitch standing next to her, looking even more squirrely than usual. He looked panicked and sweaty, and he grabbed her arm desperately. “Miss Lola, I need your help.”

  Lola tried to pull her arm away, but Mitch held on. Mitch was short, and about as wide as he was tall, but Lola was surprised at the strength of his grip. Harrison, one of her best friend’s husband and a former lineman for Georgia, was crammed in next to her, saw what was going on, and leaned his 6’9” body protectively over Lola. He stared into Mitch’s eyes menacingly and then looked pointedly at where Mitch was still holding Lola’s arm. “Lola, is there a problem here?”

  Lola almost laughed at the expression on Mitch’s face. He paled and instantly dropped her arm. “No problem, mister. Lola and I are old friends.”

  Lola visibly shuddered at the idea of that. She patted Harrison’s chest and winked at him as she turned back to Mitch and explained, “He’s not my friend, he’s a former client, and he was just leaving.”

  He looked around him, eyes wide and desperate, and leaned closer to her ear. “Miss Lola, I’m serious. I need to talk to you. It’s a matter of life and death. I’ve gotten my hands on what might be some extremely valuable information and I don’t know what to do with it.”

  Lola glared at him. “Mitch, in case you didn’t notice, this is not my office, I’m not at work, and if you want to talk to me you can make an appointment.” She poked her finger in his chest. “And the last time you told me it was a matter of life and death, it was because your wife filed for divorce after you were arrested and she took your favorite hat.”

  Mitch muttered. “That wasn’t an ordinary hat. It was a Stetson, and…”

  Lola waved her hand, and interrupted him. “I. Don’t. Care. Make an appointment later in the week. Now leave.”

  He looked somewhere behind Lola, his eyes widened, and he turned, plunged into the crowd, and disappeared. Lola turned and smiled at Harrison and reached up to pat him on the cheek. “My hero. Thanks, big guy.”

  He winked at her and they resumed their shuffle.

  It took another thirty minutes to finally get out of the stadium, almost an hour to go the three and a half miles to Lola’s Inman Park loft, and they finally flopped on her sofa at two in the morning. Fortunately, all of them were off work the next day, so no one was in a hurry to leave and face another round of brutal Atlanta after-event traffic. They were quiet as they took in the amazing view from Lola’s floor to ceiling windows.

  Lola finally turned to look at her friends. “Anyone want a drink?” She started to get up, but her best friend Daisy grabbed her arm to stop her. Lola smiled and stayed where she was, knowing that Daisy couldn’t sit for more than a couple of minutes without trying to feed everyone in her immediate vicinity.

  “I’ll get it. Y’all want some tea, or something with alcohol?” She popped up and walked into Lola’s kitchen, opening the refrigerator and bending over to see what was there. “There’s tea, some Cokes, some lemonade I made yesterday, and some bourbon punch, if any of y’all would prefer that.”

  Daisy was an amazing cook, and Lola wasn’t, so she cooked for Lola whenever she cooked for herself and her husband Luke. Their group of friends knew that Daisy felt better knowing that Lola was eating well, plus she enjoyed doing it, and Lola loved her food, so it worked out for everyone.

  Everyone wanted tea, so Daisy filled glasses with ice and started pouring drinks. She put them on a tray and carried them into the living room, where she handed them out. She turned back to the kitchen. “Lola, where are those cookies I made for you? I’ll put those out, too.”

  Lola shrugged and took a sip of her tea. “They’re gone. I already ate them.”

  Daisy came back out into the living room and looked at her in amazement. “What? Lola Prentiss, I made you three dozen. Yesterday.”

  Lola nodded. “I know. They were delicious. I ate half on the way home from your house, and half last night while I watched TV.”

  Daisy just laughed and shook her head. “Girl, if I ate like that, I’d weigh about four hundred pounds. And it would all be in my boobs and butt.”

  Daisy’s husband Luke grabbed her and pulled her onto his lap, kissing her neck with loud smooching noises. “Sounds good to me.” He laughed as she tried half-heartedly to pull away, laughing uncontrollably. She finally gave up and grabbed his face in both hands and planted a big, wet kiss on his grinning mouth. He hugged her, they smiled at each other and settled back onto the sofa.

  Lola rolled her eyes. All of her best friends from college were happily married to wonderful men who were all crazy about their wives, and she loved every one of them. They were all smiling at Daisy and Luke’s antics. Mark and Sara sat at the end of the sofa, with little Sara on Mark’s lap, as usual, and Harrison and Mo stretched out with their long legs on the ottoman, with Harrison’s arm around Mo’s shoulders.<
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  Lola sighed dramatically. “Let’s face it, I wish it would go to my boobs and butt.”

  Daisy made a face. “Boobs and butts are highly overrated.”

  Harrison disagreed. “Said no man, ever.” Mo rolled her eyes, and poked him in the side with a long finger. He grabbed it and kissed it, and winked at her when she started to laugh.

  Sara laughed. “Lola, you’re 5’10” and built like a supermodel. Boobs and butt would be overkill. I say stick with the cookies as a food group because it works for you.”

  It did work for her. Lola was tall and thin and with her dark hair and skin looked a lot like Angie Harmon, but with bright blue eyes. She was also one of those women who always look put together, no matter what she happened to wear. Like now. She was wearing a pair of ancient jeans, a Bulldog zip up hoody over a black Tshirt, and an old pair of Converse slip-ons, and still looked like she could be coming home from a late night photo shoot.

  Lola smiled back at Sara and stood up to take her sweatshirt off. “Y’all know my food groups are limited to whatever Daisy cooks for me.” As she unzipped the fleece and pulled her arms out of the sleeves, she heard something hit the floor and bounce on the hardwood. She tossed the sweatshirt onto the back of the chaise lounge and bent to look for whatever had fallen. Under the edge of the sofa she saw something shiny, so she picked it up.

  It was a silver flash drive. Lola looked at her friends and held it up so they could see it. “Is this anybody’s?”

  They looked at her with blank expressions on their faces. Mark moved Sara off his lap and held out his hand. Lola handed it to him. “Let me see it. I carry one like that on my keyring. Maybe it fell off.”

  He looked at it and handed it back. “Nope. It’s not mine.” He looked puzzled. “It was in your pocket?”

  Lola shrugged. “I guess so. I don’t see where else it could have fallen out of.” She walked over to her desk, clicked her mouse to wake up her computer, and plugged the flash drive into the USB port. “Let’s see what this is.”

  The guys wandered over to see what she had found. Lola scrolled rapidly through the files and saw some kind of spreadsheets, what looked like page after page of computer coding, and several memos from a company called Pandora Unlimited about some computer software or research, or something.

  “Does this look like anything to anyone?”

  They slowly shook their heads and looked at each other. Luke reached over Lola, grabbed the mouse from her, and went back to the spreadsheets, opening one. “These look like some kind of financial projections. We used to use similar ones for huge building projects to get an estimate for our costs and then compare those to how much we’d make.” He shrugged. “I might be able to get an idea of what they’re talking about, but you really should check with an accountant to see what’s really going on here.”

  Lola sat up straight. “An accountant? Shit, I’ll bet that little asshole Mitch Willard put this in my pocket. He’s an accountant and I’ll bet this has something to do with whatever ‘problem,’” she made little air quotes with her fingers. “He wanted to talk to me about.” She shook her head. “I guess he figured I’d have to meet with him if he gave me this flash drive.” Lola was disgusted at his attempt to manipulate her. “It’s not going to work. I’ll meet with him once to give this back and to hand him a letter that says I will never work with his sleazy little ass again.”

  The guys looked concerned, and Luke asked if she wanted any, or all, of them to be there in case Mitch decided to cause any trouble. She smiled and thanked them for being so sweet, but she said it was not a problem. She had full-time security in her office and she wasn’t scared of Mitch Willard at all, so it wasn’t a problem. She’d have her meeting, kick him out, and be done with him by the end of the week.

  She ejected the flash drive, threw it in the desk drawer, and turned to her friends. “Y’all want to crash here, or are y’all heading home?”

  Everyone agreed that the traffic should be about gone by now, so they all said their goodbyes, set a time to meet the next day for an early lunch, and loaded into Lola’s private elevator to go down to the garage.

  Once they left, Lola put the empty glasses on the tray and took them into the kitchen. She loaded the dishwasher and turned it on so her housekeeper could put everything away in the morning when she came in. She turned out the lights and went to bed.

  2

  Even though she’d gone to bed after 3:00, Lola still woke up before seven. Damn it. Why couldn’t she ever sleep late? She moaned and pulled the pillow over her head, which worked great to block out the light, but pretty much blocked out any air, as well. Crap. She may as well get up.

  She stood up and stretched and looked out her bedroom window. It was supposed to be beautiful later today and she had didn’t have to work. Perfect. She turned on the TV and headed into the bathroom to brush her teeth. She took one look at her pale face and tangled hair and winced. Man, when you get over forty, you sure can tell when you don’t get enough sleep. She looked rough.

  She walked back into the bedroom to catch the morning news, still brushing her teeth. She groaned as the news station showed Alabama’s overtime winning play from about ten different angles and was just about to turn off the TV in disgust when she saw Mitch’s face, along with a headline underneath it. “Disgraced accountant found dead”. Lola stared at the TV in disbelief. What the hell? She paused the TV and ran into the bathroom to spit out her toothpaste and rinse her mouth, then came back, sat on her bed, and ran the story.

  Apparently, Mitch had been found dead in the stadium by a maintenance worker after everyone had left the building. There were no details about the cause of death, but the rest of the story detailed his previous arrest, and there was a freakishly unflattering film clip of her escorting Mitch into his sentencing hearing. Crap. She remembered that day. She had the flu but wanted to get rid of Mitch and his case so badly that she went to the hearing with a hundred and two degree fever, a hacking cough, and a terrible headache. She’d never seen the footage before, but she looked like total shit and now that’s what was going to be shown every hour on every damn station. Great.

  Lola threw down the remote and went into the bathroom to take a shower. As she stood in her shower, letting the hot water knock the cobwebs out of her tired head, she decided she’d call her friend, Vicki, at the medical examiner’s office and see if they knew anything yet. She had to admit, it was kind of weird that Mitch ended up dead the same day he’d approached her with a situation that was a “matter of life and death.” Lola didn’t like the little creep, but she didn’t wish him dead. Maybe slightly maimed. Mostly, just far away from her.

  She left a message with Vicki to give her a call when she had time, put her hair in a ponytail, pulled on an old UGA sweatshirt, some old jeans and some slip on canvas shoes, and headed out to run some errands. Her phone beeped as she pulled into the restaurant, and Sara told her they’d already ordered her favorite sandwich and to come on in. Lola smiled, especially when she went in and saw the lunch line already out the door. She saw her friends and went to join them at their table in the corner.

  Everyone looked tired but relaxed. They waved her over and she pulled out a chair between Luke and Mark, kissing them both on the cheek and waving to everyone else as she sat down. Daisy was perky, as usual. “Hola, Lola.” Lola smiled despite herself. Daisy was so constantly cheerful that it always amused her. “You sleep in this morning?”

  Lola rolled her eyes. “Depends on if you consider 6:50 to be sleeping in. How about y’all?”

  Everyone but Sara had gotten up early. Shocking. Sara could sleep twelve hours a night, if you’d let her. Mark laughed and pointed his head toward Sara. “Yeah, I barely got sleeping beauty, here, out of bed. I finally had to entice her with the promise of beer and fried pickles, and that eventually got her butt up and out.”

  Sara shrugged. “I’m a simple woman with simple tastes.” She smiled and took a huge bite of her brie BLT and said
with her mouth full, “I needed something fantastic to get me over that shit from last night, and pickles and beer is pretty damn close. Losing sucks ass.”

  Leave it to Sara to sum it all up in a few profane words. Lola loved her friends. They had all met their first year at Georgia and Sara, Daisy, and Mo were her college roommates. She listened to the conversation around her and smiled fondly as she looked around the group.

  Sara was 4’9”, with the strongest Southern accent you’ve ever heard, a booming voice, and a vocabulary that would put a sailor to shame. She was a talented interior designer, and she and Mark, an architect, had four kids, three in college and one in high school, and had been married since they finished grad school in 1995. They were a study in contrasts. Mark was about 6’1”, tall and athletic, with a nice smile and some of the kindest eyes you’d ever see. Sara was adopted from China as an infant, and looked like a tiny, delicate, porcelain China doll, at least until she opened that mouth, and then that image was blown to bits.

  Lola met Sara her second day at Georgia. She overheard Sara tell this hilarious story of how she didn’t realize she was adopted until she was twelve, and then was completely traumatized by the whole idea. Her parents had never tried to hide the fact that she was adopted, and they tried to tell her about her Chinese heritage from the time she was a very little girl, but the whole adoption thing apparently didn’t click. Apparently, she assumed her entire family were tall, blonde, blue-eyed Chinese people, and she was the only one who happened to look classically Asian. Anyway, the story was so funny that, when Sara was done, Lola went over and introduced herself, and they became immediate friends. It turned out they all lived in the same dorm, and she and her roommate, Mo, moved into an apartment with Lola and Daisy the next year, and they all lived together until they graduated.