“Finn.” Carys grabs paper off the printer. “Did you hear me?”
Her voice brings me out of my head, and I raise my eyebrows at her in silent question.
She frowns and finds an imaginary hair to stuff into the complicated braid. When it’s the two of us, she wears her hair loose around her shoulders. The braids and buns and whatever else she designs seems to be part of her defense against the rest of the world. Every day I discover something I didn’t notice the first time.
With a sigh, she sinks into a chair a few seats away from me. “At the risk of being the girliest-girl, what were you thinking about? I haven’t asked any of the other times because I’m not sure I want to know. But maybe I should know. Whatever it is, it’s bothering you.”
“It’s nothing.”
She lets the lie sit between us for a beat, and I can’t meet her gaze. “A week ago, I said I wanted a partner I could trust, and then I said you were always honest with me, even when I didn’t want to hear it. That’s the guy I love. That one.” She frowns. “I love this guy too.” She swirls her finger at me in a circular motion. “Who is lost in his own thoughts. But I prefer the other guy. The honest one.” She gives me a pointed look.
I wince. Except she isn’t the person who doesn’t want to hear it, it’s me. My jaw tightens, and I glance toward the door. “Just something I overheard Eric say.”
Carys rises and steps around the chairs between us to roll my seat back and perch on my lap. “Tell me.” Her fingers stroke my furrowed brow.
“He seems to believe that whatever he and your dad have cooked up, it’ll bring you and him closer together.” I clear my throat. “You’ll pick him.”
She grins and wraps her arms around my neck. “Never in a million trillion years. There is nothing he could say or do to make me leave you and go to him.”
“He seemed very confident.”
Her lips quirk up in derision. “That’s his thing—he’s confident even when he’s wrong. One of his worst qualities.” Carys’s gaze focuses above my head. “He is a win-at-all-cost sort of person, though.” Her expression morphs into one of determination. “I wouldn’t be with him even if he threatened to kill me.”
I tighten my arms tighten around her at the suggestion. “He’d never get a chance. He’d be dead as soon as the idea entered his head.”
There’s a sharp knock on the door. She tries to stand, but I increase my grip on her. She brushes her lips against mine, and her hand rests on my chest over my heart. She skims my earlobe with her teeth, and she whispers, “I’m yours. Just yours. Always.”
I move my hands from her waist to frame her face. There’s another knock on the door, but I pull her into a kiss anyway. When whoever knocks again, I let her go with a sigh, trailing along whatever part of her body I can connect with before she gets too far away. She glances at me over her shoulder. So fucking sexy. I can’t wait for this meeting to be over. A tug on the thighs of my jeans shifts the tightness enough to make it bearable.
Carys opens the boardroom door, and instead of Lena, she’s met with Jay and Ekaterina. I ignore the new woman and stare at her bodyguard. He has one fucking job—guard the front door. What’s he doing in here?
He tips his chin at me. The urge to throttle him causes my hands to clench.
“I hired more security. Got two guys on the door.” He reads my mind.
I’d ask if they are competent, but Jay’s idea of apt security and mine aren’t even close. I grunt and rise to offer my hand to Ekaterina. Her dark hand slips into mine. She scans me with her midnight eyes. She’s little and round, but she carries an air of confidence and authority.
“Finn Donaghey?” she asks.
“The one and only.” I release our handshake and sink into my seat. “You heard of me?”
“CIA is offering a tidy sum for information on your whereabouts.”
“CIA can go fuck themselves. I’m not going to jail.” Is she threatening me or warning me? “And I’ll kill anyone who tries to get me there—reward or not.”
Ekaterina laughs and goes to the other side of the table, away from me and closer to Carys. “I wasn’t suggesting I’d be turning you in.”
She has almost no trace of an accent. If it wasn’t for her name, I might mistake her for American. Jay leaves a seat between us and slides into another closer to Carys who sits at the head of the table with her various charts and graphs printed.
“Thanks for coming here.” Carys’s smile is strained.
“I’m hoping you can give me insight into what the hell happened with Valeriya,” Ekaterina says. “I go to Moscow for a meeting, and when I return she’s flown to Ireland and gotten herself killed.”
“We’re trying to put those pieces together.”
“She wasn’t always the most reliable employee, but she didn’t deserve that end.”
“She wasn’t reliable?” Carys frowns.
“Last four or five months, she was full of herself. Seemed to think she could do what she wanted. Followed her schedule, not mine.”
“Why didn’t you mention something to me?”
“Eric was around at least once a month to check on things at the warehouse and to speak to Valeriya about her attitude. I thought you arranged that. I thought you knew.”
Carys leans back in her seat, her frown deepening. “Once a month?”
“Like clockwork.” Ekaterina taps her nails on the table. “He said you were aware of the problems with Valeriya, and you’d asked him to step in.”
“I wouldn’t have undermined you like that. Not without talking to you first.” Carys checks her papers and then glances at Jay. “Did you realize Eric was going to Russia so much?”
He shakes his head. “I pulled the expense reports and phone records for those five or six people we thought might be in touch with Valeriya. Eric was one of them. Nothing logged.”
Carys appears puzzled for a moment. Does she realize Eric must have been paying his own flights, hotels, and meals while he took those trips? Whatever he was doing with Valeriya, he wasn’t reigning her in.
“Until four or five months ago, Valeriya wasn’t a problem?” I lean my elbows on the table, tired of bearing silent witness.
Ekaterina cocks her head while she contemplates the question. “Maybe the last year or so she hasn’t been quite right—distracted, forgetful. But the last four or five months she was unbearable.”
“And Eric?” I ask. “When did he start his visits?”
She takes her phone out of her purse and scrolls through it. “About six months ago. I had returned from a meeting in Moscow and found him at the warehouse with Valeriya. It was the first time I’d seen him in years.”
She and Carys exchange a glance loaded with meaning.
“And the last time you saw him before that was...?” I relax into my chair and cross my arms. Carys might give me the backstory later if I ask, but I like to have the puzzle pieces.
“She flew to Chicago three months before I was supposed to get married, to tell me Eric paid for his mistress to have an abortion.” Carys stares at the papers in front of her. Her voice is brisk and businesslike, but Jay gives me the side-eye. I’ve stepped in shit. “So what was that? Maybe five years ago?” She looks to Ekaterina for confirmation.
As if she doesn’t remember.
“Sounds about right.” Ekaterina flips her phone face down on the table. “Anyway, you two remained close despite his obvious flaws. Frankly I had a hard time believing you didn’t fire him, even if his actions had nothing to do with work.”
Carys shrugs. She hated disappointing her dad. So much easier if she’d get over seeking his approval. Fire Eric. Let me kill him. I’m easy as long as he’s gone. It’s not as though her father has her best interests at heart.
“So,” Ekaterina continues, “I didn’t question his involvement in my branch. Apologies. I should have talked to you. I know better than anyone he’s a master at deception.”
Her final comment makes me wonder
what else she’s discovered. Is it only his cheating? Or is there more? One glance at Carys fixing an invisible flaw in her braid tells me not to push it. At least not here.
“Our information shows Valeriya was flying to Ireland to meet with the PLA. We also think she or someone associated with her might have been moving the product from the warehouse theft,” Jay says as Carys passes papers to Ekaterina.
“Well, we put her in charge of finding the missing inventory. Makes it damn easy to cover it up if you’re selling it, too.” She scans the information in Carys’s crafted charts. “Good thing European sales are strong overall or this theft would have completely fucked us.”
“Still might.” Carys’s smile is tight. “Our fingerprints are all over those weapons now being used by an organization hoping to usurp their government.”
“At least you don’t have to worry about the FBI dickhead who was sniffing around trying to extort more money.” Ekaterina mutters while she shuffles through the papers.
Carys, Jay, and I grow still, and the room hums with tension.
Ekaterina glances between us.
“What am I missing?” She focuses on Carys. “You warned me about him. He came nosing around while you were doing your bedside vigil.” She tips her head at me. “I took care of it.”
Carys tugs on her earring and sighs. I lean across the desk, on the cusp of losing my shit. Jay slides a piece of paper in my direction, and I glare at him. On the paper are the words Calm the fuck down in a hasty scrawl. Did he write that now or before he even came in the room?
My jaw clenches, but I focus on the message.
“The other half of his money never made it to him,” Carys says. “His grievance was legitimate.” She rolls her shoulders. “And you almost got me killed since I was there the morning you took care of it.”
Ekaterina closes her eyes and presses her fingertips into her forehead. “The day before, I tried to call you on your mobile, but it was turned off. Then when I called Lilly in Chicago, she said you were on vacation and not taking any work-related calls.” She sighs. “She said you were in Switzerland. You like initiative. So I used mine. You warned me he might try to fuck you over. I thought I was helping.”
Of their own volition, my hands flex into fists, and I force them to flatten on the table on top of Jay’s note.
“If you ever need to talk to Carys, you can call me. I can always get in touch with her.” Jay breaks the tension.
“Unless you fucking lose her in Ireland for hours on end.” I pitch the words for his ears only. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Gritting my teeth, I rise from my seat and ball up his note. “I’ve heard enough.” I focus on Carys. “Come find me when you’re done.”
She turns to me with surprise and a hint of confusion. “Finn?”
I run my gaze over our guest one last time. “I’ll double-check security at the front.”
She scans my face before giving me a curt nod and then turns to Ekaterina. “I have a few more questions on a couple other accounts.”
I close the door behind me. We’ve got what we need. Eric and Valeriya were fucking, and they’re both mixed up in this PLA mess. The mystery of who shot Ricardo and whether the incident was a direct threat to Carys is also solved.
The biggest question is the same one I started the day with, and it’ll be the one nagging me every day until something materializes. What is Eric planning?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Carys
Ekaterina answers my last few questions with ease and then says, “So that was Finn Donaghey.”
“It was.” I gather my papers together into a neat pile.
“Rare for me to find a man intimidating.”
I glance up and a smile plays on my lips. “Was he a little intense?”
“A little? Were we in the same room? The guy is all coiled rage and X-ray vision.” She drops her phone into her purse and rises from her seat. “Are you—are you safe with him?”
Before I can answer, Jay chuckles on the other side of the large wooden table. “You were the only person in this room who wasn’t safe today.” He frowns as he picks up his pen. “And maybe me.” With a shrug, he says, “Point is, he’s not a threat to her.”
“Why would he leave so abruptly?” Her expression is thoughtful. “He gave me that appraising once-over before he left, which meant something.”
“Probably wondering how easy it would be to remove your head.” Jay’s voice is matter of fact, and if it wasn’t for the horror on her face, I’d laugh.
“We do business differently,” I assure her.
“Well, if you ever do business like him, I’m quitting.”
Jay grins while he waves her out the door of the boardroom. “You know what Finn told me? Dying or going to jail were the only ways people got out of his organization in Boston. That’s not Carys’s policy.” He takes a breath. “At least not yet.”
Ekaterina walks along the hall beside him, their voices floating back to the boardroom. His words shouldn’t be funny. Her face when Jay mentioned removing her heard was priceless, and her expression plays in my mind while I shred papers. When I’m sure I’ve hidden the paper trail, I head for the kitchen.
The sharp click of Lena’s knife is audible before I reach her. As soon as I enter the wide-open space, I glimpse Finn wedged deep into a couch watching football.
Normally I’d chat with Lena to confirm dinner plans, but he exited the meeting so abruptly I want to check in with him first.
“You okay?” I sink into the spot beside him.
He grunts and doesn’t look at me. “Just trying to figure out what we’re missing. There’s a clear timeline with Valeriya and Eric. It appears as though it’s linked to the warehouse and the PLA. But it might not be. Then there’s your father’s involvement, which doesn’t seem connected. But I heard them talking in the hotel, so I realize it is.” He rubs his forehead. “I fucking hate sitting around waiting for shit to happen. I make things happen. People don’t come at me—I hit them first.”
“That’s why you left the meeting?”
He chuckles, but the sound is without humor. “No. I excused myself because I wanted to drag Ekaterina behind the house and show her what her kind of initiative gets. Six fucking feet under.”
Silence sits between us. My heart pounds as I picture him hauling her out of the meeting. His admission is appealing and horrifying. Something isn’t right with me. To love a man capable of that, who would enjoy that, seems wrong. It is wrong. But nothing about being with him is wrong to me. Not even a bit.
“We had a miscommunication.” I rub his leg, and he links his fingers with mine.
“Almost got you killed.” He squeezes my hand.
“But I’m still alive. And her intentions were good.”
He turns to face me for the first time since I sat. His knuckles skim my cheek. “What she said means Eric and Valeriya were probably fucking.”
“That crossed my mind.”
“She called the Chicago office before leaving for Ireland. He admitted to your father he knew what happened to her.”
“You don’t have to dance around it. You think he had her killed.”
Finn is silent for a moment, lost in thought. “So was she going to the PLA for protection? To blow the whistle on something Eric was doing? Does the PLA meeting have anything to do with this at all?”
I lean my head against his shoulder. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know. But I will. I have three weeks to understand these connections before Eric makes his move.”
~ * ~
The last two weeks have passed without incident. During the day, I hole up in my office attempting to stay on top of everything at work. Sometimes I worry I neglected my company for months instead of a couple weeks. Maybe I did. God knows from the minute I saw him in Boston, half my brain zeroed in on him. I never quite got my mind back. Now I don’t want to return to whoever I’d been before.
While I work, Finn and
Jay track any lead they can find on Eric or my father. Finn is dogged, possessed, determined to find the truth before the clock ticks to zero. On the phone, on the internet, conferencing with people, calling in favors, and still nothing has turned up that satisfies him. He’s even offered to fly to Chicago to shoot Eric and bury his body in my father’s backyard. He was mostly kidding. I laughed and told him I’d be too sad if he was arrested by the FBI to be happy about Eric’s demise.
I should care more. Whatever they’re planning should bother me the same way it does him. But I can’t imagine he could ever say or do something great enough to sway me. Spending my days working in my office and my nights in Finn’s arms, striving for the stars, is a new bliss. Happiness is an addiction. Leaving him will be hard when I have to go back to Chicago for a while, but I’m not worried. We’re solid—I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life as I am with him, with us.
In the kitchen, Lena peers at a security monitor on the wall. Finn has had cameras installed at the end of the long laneway, so we have lots of warning regarding visitors.
I stab at my salad and observe her staring at the screen.
“You recognize the car?” she asks.
I squint and shrug. “Generic. Rental? Or a limousine service?”
“You’d better call Finn.” She waves a hand at the monitor as she goes back to prepping dinner.
“I’ll text Jay.” I pick up my phone from the island. Lena shoots me a disapproving look. “What? He’s the head of my security, not Finn.”
Lena scoffs. “I don’t understand why you take such a perverse pleasure in pissing him off.”
I take a bite of my salad while I text Jay with the other hand. There’s a line with him I can tiptoe over. Finn on the cusp of real anger is my favorite. Texting Jay right now instead of alerting him will mean Finn will find me later, and he’ll be angry with me. But not too angry. The kind of anger fueled by his love for me, his need to protect me. Those needs lead to my needs being met in interesting ways. Me bent over a desk, pressed up against a wall, flat on my back with him murmuring how much he fucking loves me in my ear. Delicious.
Resurrection Page 17
