CHAPTER ELEVEN
By four o’clock Monday afternoon, Zoe was ready to call it a day—at least at the office. She still had plenty of work to do relating to the boutique and getting her flagship store ready to open within the next month, but most of the remaining tasks she could handle from home on her computer or by phone. Between her and Brittany—Zoe’s trusted assistant who’d been with ZR Designs for the past year—they’d accomplished everything on Zoe’s to-do list for that day and more.
They’d placed orders for inventory, found a commercial builder to install the shelves and racks and cases she wanted in the boutique, and even interviewed three potential managers for the store earlier that day. Since there was something else Zoe needed to handle outside of the office, Brittany was staying behind to call references on the applications to see which candidate received the best recommendation from past employers. Then came background checks, drug tests, and Zoe hoped by the end of the week she would be able to hire one of the women as a boutique manager and could put her to work as well.
“Thanks for taking care of the dirty work, Britt,” Zoe said, as she gathered up her purse and laptop case, to her assistant handling the rest of the application process. “If you need me for anything, just give me a call. Otherwise, I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning.”
“Okay, boss.” Ever the efficient, multi-tasking assistant, Brittany didn’t even glance up from whatever she was typing into her computer as Zoe passed by the petite blonde’s desk. “Have a good evening.”
“You, too. And don’t stay too late,” Zoe said over her shoulder, knowing that Brittany had a bad habit of getting so engrossed in what she was doing that she worked well past quitting time. It was a quality Zoe appreciated but didn’t want to take advantage of. “Tomorrow’s another long day.”
Abruptly Brittany stopped typing and glanced up at Zoe, her gaze soft with understanding. “Hey, good luck at your father’s office.”
“Thanks.” Brittany was one of the few people Zoe had told about her attempts to contact her father and how worried she’d been because he hadn’t been in touch, but she’d kept the darker accusations against her dad to herself. Until she had any kind of solid evidence to prove The Reliance Group’s claim against her father, she wasn’t about to add fuel to the rumors.
Twenty minutes later she stopped her car in front of her father’s office, immediately noting the lack of vehicles parked in the lot. Counting her Lexus, there were three cars total, which she found odd. Her father’s development company employed over a dozen people, from site and project managers to estimators, an accounting and payroll department, and a few secretaries to handle overflow work for the Meridian project.
As she’d witnessed in the past, usually in the late afternoon the office was a hub of activity, but today the place looked and felt like a ghost town. Unease twisted through her as she entered the building, and things only got worse from there.
The phone lines at the front desk were ringing persistently, but the receptionist was nowhere to be seen. In fact, as Zoe walked past the reception area to where workstations and smaller offices were located, she found the place abandoned.
Including Sheila’s cubicle and Zoe’s father’s office.
Then she heard voices coming from a corner office and headed in that direction, hoping to find a familiar face who could tell her what the heck was going on, because she didn’t like the sense of foreboding settling over her like a dark, brewing storm.
She reached the far office and recognized both men inside—Jeremy, one of the site managers for the Meridian project, and an older gentleman, George, her father’s controller, who’d been with the company for the past five years. They were arguing about a check that had bounced to one of their sub-contractors—and it was just what Zoe didn’t want to hear.
She knocked on the wooden door, startling both men out of their heated conversation. “Hi, guys,” she said when both pairs of eyes turned to her. “Where is everyone? This place is practically deserted.”
The two men exchanged a not-so-discreet look that only added to Zoe’s suspicion that something was very, very wrong. When neither of them spoke, she directed her gaze to the man she knew best. “George, what’s going on around here?” She couldn’t keep the wariness from her voice or prevent the nausea that was beginning a slow roll through her stomach.
Jeremy shook his head, looking both frustrated and angry. “I have somewhere else I need to be, so I’ll let George be the bearer of bad news.”
Jeremy brushed past her and out the door, leaving Zoe alone with the older man, who appeared worn-out and weary. George ran his fingers through his receding hair, then sank down into the leather chair behind his desk while Zoe waited not so patiently for him to speak.
“Things aren’t going too well around here,” he finally admitted as he tugged on the knot of his navy blue tie as if to loosen the fabric so he could breathe easier. “Quite honestly, we’re having a bit of a cash flow problem, and I’m having a helluva hard time trying to locate your father.”
Confusion, and something more oppressive, enveloped her. “He’s supposed to be on a business trip in Chicago.”
“That’s what I thought, too,” George said. “Do you know where in Chicago he’s staying?”
“No.” It wasn’t a good sign that one of her father’s trusted employees was hoping that she had some insight to her father’s whereabouts. “Wouldn’t Sheila have that information?”
The older man laughed, but the sound lacked any real humor. “Yeah, that’s her job as your father’s secretary. She sets up your father’s business trips and keeps his itinerary. All last week she gave me the runaround about getting ahold of your father, along with a bunch of bogus excuses, until I finally confronted her on Friday evening and demanded she give me the information. Which she did right before she left for the day, except the hotel whose name and number she gave me doesn’t have anyone under the name of Grant Russo registered.”
Zoe walked farther into the office, each step feeling as though her shoes were weighed down with lead. “What did you say to Sheila when she came in today?”
George’s mouth twisted grimly. “She didn’t come in today. No call, no show. No answer on her house phone or her cell phone.”
Nope. Not good at all. “Where’s the rest of the office staff?”
He met her gaze, his expression turning harsh. “They haven’t gotten a paycheck in two weeks, so most of them have walked out until they get paid or they’ve just flat-out quit.”
Oh, God. Feeling as though the rug was being pulled out right from under her feet, Zoe sat down in one of the chairs in front of George’s desk. “That’s not all, is it?” She instinctively knew there was more and it wasn’t going to be pleasant.
The man shook his head. “Not only are checks bouncing, but big money is missing from accounts that normally hold money in reserve. The Meridian project has shut down, without a legitimate reason that I can find, and we’ve been inundated with calls from angry sub-contractors who did work but haven’t been paid and now I can’t locate your father to get answers. All I know is that whatever is going on, it’s bad, and I have a feeling it’s going to get worse.”
She thought about the man who’d confronted her a week ago and how bitter and angry he’d been because he hadn’t been paid. There was also that Davenport man who’d made a scene at the casino Friday night. That was two people out of a dozen or more who were probably furious with her father, and the company, for withholding their money. What if someone had gone so far as to hurt her father, or worse, in their attempt to exact retribution?
She forcibly swallowed the huge lump of dread that had gathered in her throat. “Do you think something bad happened to my father?”
“I don’t know,” George said, his features suddenly softening with an emotion that looked like empathy. “But I have to be honest with you about something, Zoe, because you have the right to know. I’ve been doing my damnedest to figure out what went wrong with the finances, and all signs are pointing to your father having embezzled millions of dollars from the investment accounts. I’ve found discrepancies in financial records and bank statements, and possible evidence of wire fraud, and it just doesn’t look good that nobody seems to be able to locate your dad.”
An instant denial sprang to her lips to defend her father, but she could no longer ignore the very real possibility that her father was guilty of fraud and had gone rogue. She didn’t want to believe it, but it was as though everything she’d been denying for the past week was slowly unraveling and becoming her worst nightmare.
“I’m sorry, Zoe,” George said, his tone compassionate. “If your father doesn’t show up, and soon, there is no doubt in my mind that the Feds are going to get involved and things are going to get very, very messy.”
She could only imagine. Her conversation with Sean last Friday night played through her mind, along with the undisputable fact that The Reliance Group had been hired by a respected businessman who’d invested millions of dollars into the Meridian project, and how that same man was trying to find her father to reclaim his loan because the project had been shut down without legitimate cause—except the lack of money to pay people.
Everything Sean had tried to tell her was now being backed by someone from the inside, a man who had access to records and accounts and the facts. As much as it pained her to do so, she had no choice but to face the truth, because there was no ignoring the cold, hard, irrefutable evidence piling up against her father.
And what was up with Sheila giving George false information and disappearing, too? Was there any chance Sheila was intimately involved with Zoe’s father and was protecting him and the millions of dollars that were missing from the company?
Zoe had a difficult time believing that the two of them were lovers. Sure, Zoe’s father had always talked very highly of Sheila as a competent, efficient secretary, yet Zoe had never seen her dad treat Sheila with anything other than courtesy, respect, and professionalism. Not only that, but Sheila wasn’t even close to the type of woman Grant was attracted to and dated. In every way, Sheila was the antithesis of the young, blond, silicone-enhanced arm candy Zoe’s father preferred.
Which made the thought of Grant Russo running off with Sheila all the more confusing to Zoe.
Her temples throbbed with the beginnings of a headache. She felt as though she were trying to put together a giant, convoluted jigsaw puzzle and was missing crucial, key pieces. She needed some kind of solid, concrete answer, something tangible to confirm, or affirm, her doubts and uncertainties about her father’s relationship with Sheila.
An idea came to Zoe, one that might prove helpful if she was able to get George to cooperate. “I need to ask a favor. With Sheila now being gone, too, I’d like to take the hard drive from her computer.”
George frowned, looking confused. “What for?”
“I know someone who can analyze the information on hard drives, and since Sheila is my father’s main secretary who plans all his trips and itineraries, I’m hoping he might recover something that could indicate where my father is.” And Sheila’s whereabouts, too.
Zoe figured if Lucas wasn’t able to find anything incriminating or helpful on her father’s home computer hard drive, Sheila’s might prove to be more useful. It was worth a shot, anyway.
George hesitated for a moment, then released a heavy sigh and finally relented. “Fine. Take it.”
They walked to Sheila’s office, and Zoe waited while George retrieved the hard drive out of the secretary’s computer. He handed Zoe the component, which she’d pass on to Sean tomorrow.
Still feeling numb from everything she’d just learned, Zoe left the building as though she was operating on autopilot. She got into her car and just sat there, staring blankly through the windshield, her mind spinning with daunting thoughts and an awful, sinking sensation taking up residence in the pit of her stomach.
None of this made sense to Zoe. The Grant Russo she’d known all her life was honest and generous and kind. An ethical, hardworking businessman who treated his employees fairly and had built a reputable development company. He wasn’t some kind of scheming, cheating con man who would, without conscience, bilk innocent people out of paychecks and investments due to them.
Her eyes burned with tears she valiantly tried to blink back as she navigated her way home. She needed to find her father and wanted desperately to believe he’d be able to explain away all the claims against him and everything would return to normal. She clung to that bit of hope, because it was all she had left.
God, she felt so lost and alone and confused. She knew she’d made a promise to keep Sean informed of any new revelations concerning her father, but she couldn’t find the strength to admit that Sean might be right and that some of the things he and Caleb had alluded to were proving to be true.
She picked up her cell phone to call Jessica and tell her what had happened but remembered that Jessica was on a date with Noah. Zoe didn’t want to interrupt her best friend to vent about her own personal family drama—or give Jessica an excuse to cut her evening with Noah short to comfort her. Those two had things to work out between them and needed whatever time they could get together before Jessica left on tour.
Briefly Zoe thought about contacting her mother, but if Zoe relayed what she’d just learned from George, she knew without a doubt that Collette Russo would freak out. Instead of offering her daughter a sympathetic shoulder or ear, her mother would give Zoe nothing but grief over the fact that she wasn’t getting her alimony. And that was the last thing Zoe wanted to hear from her self-centered parent.
Resolved to spend the evening alone to try to process everything she’d discovered that afternoon, Zoe continued toward her place. When she reached the Panorama Towers, she punched her code into the gate-control box, then gave a friendly wave to the familiar guard at the security shack as the electronic iron gate opened for her.
As she drove forward, she heard the loud, high-pitched sound of a motorcycle and glanced in her rearview mirror just in time to see a red and black low-profile bike zoom through the small opening seconds before the gate slid shut.
The motorcycle followed her into the parking garage and all the way up to the third level. She parked her vehicle in her designated spot while noticing that the motorcycle had stopped closer to the stairwell. Putting the other person out of her mind, she gathered her purse and laptop case and got out of her car, then headed toward the bank of elevators.
That’s when she realized that the man who’d been on the motorcycle was now striding purposefully toward her. He was still wearing his helmet, and the tinted face shield kept his identity concealed from her view and kicked her unease up a few notches. She glanced around, but there wasn’t anyone else in the parking structure, and she slowed her steps as he continued his determined approach.
She was beginning to feel stalked and trapped, since there was no getting to the elevators unless she walked around the guy, and something was screaming inside of her to run in the opposite direction. A rush of adrenaline spilled through her veins, bringing on a surge of panic she heeded.
Trusting her instincts, she turned and ran back toward her car, using her remote to unlock the driver’s side door. Too frightened to look back, she quickly slid behind the wheel, slammed the door shut, and locked herself inside—just as the motorcycle man reached her vehicle.
Standing by her window, he withdrew a long, lethal-looking knife from the sheath strapped to his leather belt and held it up for her to see. The steel glinted menacingly, and the sharp, pointed tip of the blade made her breath catch in her lungs.
Finally, the man flipped open the visor part of his helmet, giving her a glimpse of dark, angry eyes glittering with contempt. The same ones she remembered as belonging to the guy who’d approached her a week ago at Caesars Palace. He was back, and this time he obviously had some kind of vengeance in mind.
He narrowed his gaze and kept that threatening, deadly-looking knife within her view. “Where the fuck is your father?” The man’s voice was deep and loud enough for her to hear through the rolled-up window.
She swallowed the lump of fear lodged in her throat and forced herself to answer. “I…I don’t know!”
“Well, you’d better find out, and fast. That bitch and your father double-crossed me!” he snarled bitterly. “I put my ass on the line to get all that money, and now Bunny and that bastard screwed me over! I want what’s mine.”
His words made no sense to Zoe. The first time this man had confronted her she’d thought he was a disgruntled investor—now he was yelling about being betrayed, and that was something altogether different. And who was this Bunny person he kept referring to?
“What are you talking about?” Zoe asked, her voice quivering with confusion.
“Your father will know exactly what I mean.” The man’s thin lips twisted with a chilling malevolence. “Here’s another message for you to give to him, to let him know just how serious I am about getting paid for all my hard work.”
He proceeded to walk around her car and brutally slashed every one of her tires. She had no idea what the man intended to do next, and the scenarios flashing through her mind filled her with an irrepressible terror. He was big and strong enough to break her window with one blow from the butt of his knife, and she would be helpless to stop him.
Shaking off the paralyzing fear gathering within her, she scrambled for her phone, her hands trembling as she dialed the one person she instinctively knew she could count on, no matter what.
As soon as he answered, she spoke the words she’d never believed she’d ever say to him.
“Oh, God, Sean…I need you.”
*
Sean, I need you.
Even through a raspy voice tinged with tears, Sean immediately recognized Zoe’s voice and the panic in her words. He’d been sitting next to Lucas Barnes in one of the security offices, the two of them discussing some of the information the computer technician had unearthed on the hard drive Sean and Zoe had retrieved from Grant Russo’s home computer.
But now Sean’s attention was completely focused on the phone call from Zoe and how she was babbling incoherently about a guy on a motorcycle who had a knife and had slashed her tires.
What the hell? Frowning in concern, Sean stood up and paced away from Lucas’s desk, trying to make sense of what she was saying. “Sweetheart, slow down,” Sean said evenly, even though Zoe was anything but calm. First things first, he thought, and asked, “Where are you?”
“I’m…I’m sitting…in my car,” she said, her voice shaking so badly she sounded as though she were freezing to death, which was impossible in the ninety-degree summer weather.
He needed details. “Where?”
“The…the parking garage,” she said, her voice dropping to a frantic whisper. “At my place. I’m…I’m too afraid to get out of the car.” A sob broke over the line. “He’s gone now, but he said he’s going to slash my neck the next time if my father doesn’t pay him what he’s owed.”
The blood went ice-cold in Sean’s veins at the thought of her being in danger of any kind. The threat against her was enough to send him over the edge. “Who, Zoe?”
“I don’t know.” There was still a slight quiver to her voice. “It’s some guy who’s been following me.”
She made it sound as though this wasn’t the first time this guy, whoever he was, had approached her. And that wasn’t good. Not at all.
“I need you,” she said again, her words a panicked plea he’d never expected to hear from her lips. Not after the way he’d betrayed her. “Please.”
“I’m on my way,” he promised. There would be plenty of time later to find out what, exactly, had happened to her—when he knew for certain she was safe and with him. And then he wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. “Just hang on a sec while I let Lucas know what’s going on. Do not hang up the phone,” Sean ordered.
“Okay.”
Knowing his expression was as grim as he felt inside, Sean glanced at Lucas. “Tell Caleb that something important came up with Zoe and I’ll get in touch with him later.”
Lucas nodded in understanding and waved a hand for Sean to go. “Will do.”
Within minutes Sean was in his car racing through the streets of Vegas toward Zoe’s place. He kept her on the phone the entire time, doing his best to keep her calm by letting her know how close he was and making sure she knew he’d never let anyone, or anything, hurt her.
It was a huge promise he had no right making, considering he posed the biggest threat. Because there was no question in his mind that when she discovered how Sean’s father was linked to hers and how the two of them had been involved in a Ponzi scheme together years ago she was going to be devastated. And she’d probably hate Sean, too, for wanting revenge against her father, the man who’d sent Sean’s dad to prison.
Add to all that the fact that Sean used to be a con man just like her old man and had more than a few black marks on his record and she’d start to wonder who the monster in all this really was.
“Give me your access code,” Sean said as he reached the security gate, so he didn’t have to deal with the guard at the shack and take precious time to explain the situation.
Zoe gave Sean the number, he punched it in, and the gates slid slowly open—which made him wonder how the mysterious motorcycle man had made it past security without being stopped or questioned.
Sean intended to find out.
He drove up to the third level of the parking structure and came to a stop directly behind Zoe’s car, then got out of the vehicle. As soon as she saw him in her rearview mirror, she flung open her door and plastered herself against him. She wound her arms around his neck and clung to him for dear life.
Knowing she needed the comfort and reassurance of feeling safe, he wrapped her in his warm embrace, savoring the rare moment of tenderness and trust between them.
Having her in his arms felt so damned good. Better than good, actually. Except for the trembling part. Her entire body was shaking with the residual remnants of fear, and he tenderly caressed his hands up and down her back until she relaxed and softened against him.
“You’re okay,” he whispered in her ear, trying like hell not to think about the crush of her full breasts against his chest and how badly he wanted to kiss her and ease her pain with something more pleasurable.
After a short while, she pulled back, her red-rimmed eyes filled with genuine appreciation. “Thank you for coming.”
“No thanks necessary.” Reluctantly, he let her go, before he gave in to the urge to taste her soft lips, or more. “Let me get your things out of your car. I’m taking you back to my place for the night.”
She didn’t argue, which said a lot about just how frightened she was. He tossed her purse and laptop case into the backseat of his Camaro, then buckled her into the passenger seat before sliding behind the wheel and heading to his small, modest house in the suburbs.
Now all he had to do was keep his hands to himself for the night and off of her and they’d be just fine.
He had a feeling it was going to be easier said than done.