Chapter 25

Zach

“What do you mean, she went out of town?”

I glared at the woman on the other side of the desk, knowing it wasn’t her fault Jessibelle had skipped town and left me in the lurch. Nonetheless, I aimed all my anger at her. I raised my eyebrows, tapping my fingers on the desk in front of me, waiting for a response.

“She said she was going out of town with a PI,” the woman behind the desk, who couldn’t have been older than twenty, replied. She looked terrified at the onslaught of my questions, and I couldn’t say I blamed her. If I was her age and my boss came crashing into my work demanding answers I didn’t have, I’d be cowering too.

“And you can’t tell me where she is?”

“They said it’s the sensitive nature of what she’s investigating right now,” the woman replied.

I glanced around the office to see I was being watched by at least a half dozen of the people around me who were meant to be working. A wave of irritation rose and fell in my chest. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to speak slowly and carefully. Jessi’s comment about the beast in me hit home. Maybe I did need some anger management. But now was not the time.

“They? Who the hell is they? I want you to find out the name of the investigator,” I demanded, hoping she knew I was deadly serious by the tone of my voice. “He should be on my payroll. Can you do that for me?”

“I think so,” she nodded and turned to her computer, obviously glad for an excuse to look away from me. I stood up straight, casting my gaze around the office, and noted with satisfaction the way most of the people at their desks dove back into their work when they saw me looking at them. Yeah, it was my time and money they were wasting.

“Jacob Betterson.” The woman finally came up with a name, glancing at me with something close to triumph. “He works at 77 Arnold Street.”

“Thanks.” I gave her a curt nod and turned for the door. Wasn’t much of a PI if it was that easy to get hold of his information, but I’d take it, if it meant I could figure out where the hell Jessibelle had gone.

It had been a week and a half since the scene in her apartment. I’d decided to hold back for a little bit, to give her the space she needed. But then, days passed, and I didn’t hear so much as a word from her. I’d sent flowers to her apartment, but found them rejected. When I went to drop them off myself, it was clear there was no one was home. A pile-up of letters jammed into the mail slot must have been a few days old. Was all of this just so she could escape me?

I gave it a few more days, pacing up and down the floors of my mansion outside of town, and wondered what in the hell I was meant to do now. I wanted to see her. I needed to see her. And I had no idea where she was. She wanted to keep me at arm’s length. I got that much, but after the encounter we’d shared at her apartment, it was clear there was something more going on between us, something that needed addressing. And that’s how I found myself heading to the PI’s office late on a Thursday morning, brain whirling with thoughts of how I could clear up this mess as I attempted to track down the woman I loved. I felt like I was the private investigator, the one on the hunt.

I arrived at Arnold Street and looked up at the nondescript building above me. I wouldn’t have expected anyone of note to work in a place like this, but someone was clearly doing good enough work to catch Jessibelle’s attention. I headed up to the door, buzzed, and waited for a response. It came a few seconds later.

“Hello?” A gruff man’s voice came down the line, the kind you would’ve attached to the stereotypical PI in an old black-and-white cop drama. It was slightly muffled by the static on the old apartment intercom.

“Hi, it’s Zachary Rose,” I announced, using my full name to underline how serious this was. “I understand you’re on my payroll, and I want to talk to you.”

“Come right up,” the man replied at once, sounding surprised. I did as I was told, heading up the stairs to be greeted by a man in his early fifties waiting in a doorway for me. I half-expected to see his name printed above the words “private investigator” on the cloudy glass behind him, but I guessed not all clichés turned out to be true.

“Mr. Rose.”

I nodded and flashed him some ID to make sure he knew I wasn’t lying so he’d have no reason to hold back on the truth. He gestured for me to go in, and I looked around with a far-fetched hope to see Jessibelle in there, but it was just us.

“What can I help you with?” The man who I assumed to be Jacob closed the door behind us and looked me up and down. I supposed if he was working with Jessibelle, he’d have done enough research on my company to be sure I was who I said I was. I needed to stall, to stay in here a little longer in case Jessibelle showed up, and besides, it wasn’t as though I didn’t have some questions of my own.

“I understand you’re working on a highly confidential investigation involving my law suit. I need some information.” I pressed my fingertips together and looked at him seriously. “I’m sure you can understand this is of great importance to me.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “What do you want to know?”

“I want to know why my attorney decided to hire a PI without telling me and what exactly she asked you to investigate.”

Jacob raised his eyebrows and reached into the drawer below the desk. He pushed a stack of papers toward me, and I started leafing through them. Nothing jumped out at me, until—

“Johnathan Rose?” I frowned. “Are you investigating him?”

“We are.” A voice came from behind me, and I snapped around to find Jessibelle standing in the doorway. My heart soared when I saw her, but dropped at what she was saying. I turned to Jacob.

“Could you give us a moment, please?”

Jacob held his hands up and headed out of the room, leaving the two of us alone. I stared at Jessibelle. All I’d wanted the last week was to get her in a room alone, but now that she was here, I had a dozen more questions I hadn’t been prepared for.

“You’re investigating my brother?” I asked. She took Jacob’s seat and breathed deeply before she spoke, as though she knew this was going to be hard for me to hear.

“He’s the link between all the shareholders, Zach,” she explained. “He’s the only thing that ties them all together. So, I dug a little deeper and I found indications he was incubating a company of his own. That may be what he intended, the shareholders revolting against you as an attempt to destabilize your business so you would fail and his start up would be successful.”

“And you have evidence for this?” I murmured. She nodded.

“I wouldn’t have brought it up in a million years if I wasn’t certain it was true.” She sounded almost apologetic. I stared at her, eyes wide, desperately trying to process what she’d told me. There was no way Johnny would do that to me, to the company our father had built for us. Would he? I supposed he’d always had to play second seat to me, standing to the back to allow me to take center stage. Maybe he’d grown tired of that.

I shook my head. No. It couldn’t be true.

“You’ve made some mistake,” I insisted. “He’d never do that to me.”

“I wish I had,” she replied gently. “But we’re on the brink of getting what we need to out him for good. I’m sorry I had to leave town so suddenly to do it. I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch, but this is what this case needs, the break we need to keep your company under your control. Do you see that?”

I blinked a couple of times. Did I want to hold on to my business if it meant Johnny would be cast out of the family? Was it worth tearing what was left of the family apart? Maybe I should roll over and let him win, if that’s what he wanted. If any of this was even true, which I still wasn’t convinced it was. I looked at Jessi again, and something about her deadpan expression infuriated me. She had no idea what I was going through, nothing close, and it sent rage spiking up my spine. I got to my feet.

“I can’t believe any of this,” I snarled at her.

“It doesn’t matter what you don’t want to believe,” she pointed out, not fazed by the fury I threw in her direction. “What matters is the truth, and the truth right now is your brother is very likely trying to—”

“—How do you know?” I demanded again, gesturing at the papers. “You think these papers supersede everything I’ve shared with my brother over the years?”

“I don’t know about that, but they prove he’s been pulling stuff behind your back for almost as long as he’s worked at your business,” she shot back sharply.

I closed my eyes. I couldn’t take this out on her. She didn’t deserve it. But anger was running through my veins, and I was furious at the bombshell she’d just exploded in front of me. I tilted my head back, looking at the ceiling, which was covered in peeling corners and damp patches. I focused on one, took a deep breath, and sat back down.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, but she shook her head.

“I get it,” she replied gently. And then, as if my brother’s betrayal weren’t enough, she went on. “And there’s more.”

“What do you mean, there’s more?” I gaped at her, and she took a deep breath.

“I’m not sure how to tell you this.” But she did because she launched right into it, the train wreck my family business had become. And I’d thought it couldn’t get any worse. My stomach sank.