73. SARA

As Pearce jabbers on the phone with his man in the DoD, I mentally prepare my verbal assault on him. This stinks like week-old halibut, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it if it’s the last thing I do.

And I’ll be more than happy to spend every penny of the $150,000 he paid me to make it happen.

Suddenly my phone is going off in my hand. Chance! It has to be!

But it’s not. The caller ID says Noble & Cassidy. That’s Chance’s legal firm. How the hell did they get this number?

I thumb the answer button tentatively. “Hello?”

“Mrs. Talbot,” says a middle-aged voice. “This is Daniel Thompson with Mr. Talbot’s legal team. Please forgive me for calling unannounced, but being Monday, I was hoping I could get you to come by our offices and get this paperwork out of the way. And I can’t seem to track down Mr. Talbot today – would you happen to know where he is?”

“Paperwork?” I say stupidly. “What paperwork?”

The voice is silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, I assumed Mr. Talbot had discussed it with you.”

“Discussed what with me?” As if I needed another distraction right now!

“Getting your name added to all of Mr. Talbot’s accounts, adding you as sole beneficiary in his will, the usual,” he says. Then he chuckles. “You know – giving you the keys to the vault, as it were. He asked me to get started on it the day of your wedding, but I’m afraid it took quite a while to get all our ducks in a row.”

Chance gave me access to his money? The day we got married? No wonder it took him so long to come to the bedroom at the Sapphire hotel!

This isn’t a marriage of convenience. This is real, and now I feel sick for ever doubting him. And did I honestly believe he was capable of murder? What the hell was I thinking?!

“I’ll have to call you back, Mr. Thompson,” I say absently. “Something very important has come up. Thanks for calling.”

I thumb the phone off without waiting for a reply. As luck would have it, Pearce is hanging up from his own call.

I have to play this close to the vest, just like Chance would. But it’s all I can do to keep from grabbing Pearce’s scrawny neck and choking the answers I want out of him.

“Just as I suspected,” he says. “They have Chance in custody. They’re already on the way here to debrief me on what I know about Dacosta’s murder. I can only imagine how they’ll react to my information about the missing CIA money.”

Before I can say anything, I hear the door open behind me. Tre walks in, looking concerned.

“Sara, what are you doing here?” he asks.

“I wanted to talk to her about selling her shares,” says Pearce. “But as fate would have it, she’s also going to be able to sit in on my discussion with the people in the Department of Defense. They have Chance.”

Tre’s eyes pop. “What?!”

“They’re just holding him until they can get my story,” Pearce grins. “They’ll turn him over to the FBI after that. They’re aware of how delicate the situation is; they don’t want to bring unnecessary attention to any of this. I imagine they’ll also want to know about Ms. Bishop’s time on the run with Chance.”

“Sara,” Tre says to me. “I didn’t know about this. I didn’t want to see Chance end up in custody.”

My fury isn’t just contained to Pearce. I’m still appalled that Tre could turn on Chance the way he did. What kind of friend – what kind of brother – would do that?

Then it hits me: I turned on him, too. What kind of wife would do that? Who am I to be all high and mighty with Tre?

“There’s a lot more going on here than you think there is,” I say. “And when the DoD gets here, I’m going to make sure I fill in the holes in your story, Quentin.”

He gives me a startled look. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m sure they’ll be very interested in how you just happened to find my name in the phone book that morning of the board meeting,” I say coldly. “And speaking of coincidences, isn’t it funny how I also happen to be the investigator who has a background with Sebastian Dacosta?”

Tre looks like his head is about to explode.

“Wait,” he says. “You knew Dacosta before all of this happened?”

Suddenly Pearce looks like a slug is trying to crawl down his throat.

“I did some work for him late last year,” I say. “He asked me all sorts of personal questions. I thought he was hitting on me. Now I can’t help but think he wasn’t interested in dating me at all; he just wanted to know more about me for whatever the hell plan Quentin here has cooked up.”

Tre glares at Pearce. “Is this true?”

“She’s obviously clutching at straws,” he says. “She can’t resist rushing to Talbot’s rescue, no matter how much evidence there is to prove he’s a dangerous man and that he married her to keep her from testifying.”

He turns to me. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Sara. I know how hard that must be for you.”

At that moment, the intercom on Pearce’s desk buzzes.

“We’ve had your secretary called away on urgent business, Mr. Pearce,” says a male voice. “May we come in?”

He grins as he walks to the door. “Now that my friends are here, we’ll all have the opportunity to tell our stories,” he says. “I’d be happy to cover bets on which one they’re going to believe.”