Chapter Eight
Ally closed her eyes, shuffling through the various worries rushing to the forefront of her mind.
Vincent.
Where the hell are you?
She’d forwarded the files to their accountants and impressed upon them the importance of staying quiet until they finished their analysis. Ally didn’t want to toss the word “embezzlement” around until she had some actual evidence.
She hated herself for the first thought coming to the forefront—if it was true, she could twist this new development to her advantage.
When Vincent came back, she’d use the discovery as leverage to force him to get help. Put out a cover story about him going on vacation, off to one of those private facilities. Her adopted parents never needed to know.
A hoarse laugh at the back of her mind told her it was one hell of a long shot. Vincent had gone his own way for years now. Change wasn’t going to happen, not with her family counting on her to keep cleaning up his messes.
Maybe it was time for that to change.
She shuddered, imagining the crisis that’d cause. The fights, the accusations, the yelling…
None of which would happen if Jessie didn’t find Vincent and bring him home.
One step at a time…
She studied the closed door.
She couldn’t help but wonder what Trey did when he wasn’t playing bouncer. Between his attitude and his skills…there was something else going on. But she couldn’t afford to even try to open that door until Vincent came back.
The suite door opened to admit Edgar. “Miss Ally,” he started. “I’ve done as you asked. The word is out that Vincent is currently indisposed with a bad case of food poisoning and will be for the foreseeable future. He’s in his room, resting and recovering. I’ve already ordered up a bland meal—I’ll nibble on the toast, drink the juice and put the tray out in the hallway to make the show complete.” He raised an eyebrow. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll prep Trey for the morning meeting.”
“Yes. Please do so. Thanks.” She rubbed her forehead. “I’m going to get ready as well, brush up on my facts. Call me if something comes up.”
She retreated to her bedroom, girding herself for the upcoming day.
At least she was going to be with Trey. He might be playing the strong, silent man behind her, but she sensed there was a lot more going on behind those eyes.
…
A few hours later, Trey watched Ally slump against the cushions as the car slid through traffic on the way back to the hotel.
“Well, that went better than I expected.” He loosened his black tie and undid the top button of his white dress shirt.
“Yes. Thank you.” Ally let out a relieved sigh. “For a second, I thought our bluff was going to be called when he asked you about the overtime pay. But you kept to the company line.”
Trey chuckled as he pulled the silk free and wound the soft strip around his hand. “I did a little research between Edgar fussing over me and making sure I didn’t look too bad in this suit. I may not be a construction expert, but I can play one for an hour. I can’t blame Dubrinski for wanting to do the best by his people.”
“Yes, well…” She smiled. “I appreciate that. It’s still very much a man’s world, and I can understand why Dubrinski doesn’t want to lose face by giving in to a woman.”
“Most men don’t.” Trey pulled the tie between his fingers, relishing the softness. “He was ready to face Vincent and to fight. Instead, you won him over and had him eating out of your hand at the end. I doubt Vincent could have done half as well.”
“Thank you.” He spied the start of a blush before Ally turned away to look out the window.
He shifted his legs, trying not to remember how she’d looked working the room during the meeting. There’d been three men in the room, Dubrinski and two flunkies who sat back and observed their boss.
Dubrinski had been hypnotized by the sway of Ally’s hips under the tight black skirt, his eyes following her back and forth as she complimented the fine craftsmanship and hard work his union had done for Sheldon Construction on previous projects.
She’d played him like a pro, winning all three men over in the end. Trey had stayed in the background as much as possible, letting her lead and playing the strong silent type as they’d arranged, nodding in support. A few questions had been directed to him, but for the most part, they were focused on Ally.
Ally had some mad skills. She was as good on the boardroom floor as he was in front of a keyboard.
And it was sexy as hell.
Trey forced himself to check his phone, scrolling through the messages.
“Any news?” she whispered.
He shook his head, studying the texts. “Still no sign of Vincent. Jessie’s making a second round of the drunk tanks, and we’re expanding the search outward into the surrounding towns.” He reached over and took her hand. “Don’t worry. He’ll turn up sooner or later.”
“Of that, I have no doubt.” She stared at him. “Question is if it’s alive or dead.”
…
Ally’s stomach had been twisted into knots the entire morning—and not over the meeting. She knew how to handle men like Dubrinski, men who juggled care for the men and women under their watch with the cold, hard facts of business.
That hadn’t been the issue.
She’d spent the morning tamping down the fear threatening to choke her every time her thoughts darted away from the topic at hand.
She’d been terrified someone would call her bluff over Trey, terrified Vincent would turn up dead. Terrified they’d happen at the same time.
She needed a distraction.
One was right there in front of her.
Her attention went to the silk tie, folded and draped over Trey’s thigh. She wasn’t one given to kink, but ideas flashed through her mind, soothing her jangled nerves.
She wasn’t sure what it was about the man, but she felt safer with him, his aura calming her even as it stroked her desire, tempting her to make a move on him.
There wasn’t time for that. At least, not right now.
Ally cleared her throat. “I’ve got a meeting with the accountants this evening to look over the preliminary results of their audit. They’re sworn to secrecy—I impressed on them the importance of keeping quiet. The last thing we need right now is any rumor about our financial status.” She forced down the flutter of panic in her belly. “No matter how little damage he’s done, it’ll cause people to think twice about working with Sheldon Construction. We can’t afford that.”
“What are you going to tell your parents? At some point, they’re going to find out, whether you like it or not. You can keep it from the public and the other companies, but…”
“Depends on what the final picture is—that’ll take a bit more time, after I get a better view of what’s happened. That’s the best we can do until Vincent comes back and we can convince him to tell us all the details.” She tried to suppress a sigh and failed. “I’m afraid to think of what else he’s done and gotten away with.”
She spotted Trey stiffening beside her, his hand pressing against his leg. His reaction was easy for her to read, with her instincts honed by years of learning how to tell what people were thinking and feeling.
He was upset every time Vincent came up in conversation. There was something there, something beyond his general annoyance at her brother’s attitude toward drinking and partying.
Ally held back the questions bubbling up inside her. Trying to interrogate Trey wouldn’t result in anything other than a fight—something she didn’t need or want to get into right now.
When he’s ready, he’ll talk.
…
Trey bit the inside of his cheek, holding back his reply.
This was what Dylan had warned him about, and why he had to be certain, far past definite, of what Vincent was guilty of before he threw this at Ally.
He had to be.
The car stopped in front of the hotel. The driver came around to open the door for his passengers.
Ally got out first, clutching her briefcase. “Thanks again for your help.”
“No problem.” Trey followed her lead, coming around from the other side of the car. “I’ll get back in touch with Dylan to see how things are going.”
They walked through the lobby, now busy with people—a stark contrast to what they’d seen last night. “I hope Vincent comes up for air soon. How long can one man stay drunk?”
He glanced at his phone again. “We’re doing all we can to find him.”
“I know. I appreciate everything you’re doing.” She touched his arm. “You must be exhausted.”
“It’s barely afternoon.”
“Yes, but you hit the ground running and with little sleep.” She tapped her temple. “I’m working on the same timeline as well, and I’m going down for a nap as soon as I can. Why don’t you rest in Vincent’s suite? It’d help with the illusion that he’s still around. Edgar’s been doing what he can to cover, but he’s preoccupied with the hunt. It wouldn’t have to be much—take a shower and use up the towels, order in room service, put the plates outside in the hall for pickup afterward. Later on, we’ll have housekeeping clean the room and keep the game going.”
Trey rolled his shoulders. “I can do that. I’ll stay out of your way, promise.”
“Don’t.” She smiled. “It’s nice to have you nearby. You’ve been a great help.”
The elevator doors opened, and they walked down the hall. Ally opened the center door, allowing them onto neutral ground.
“Edgar just texted me—he’s circling back for a break. I know and he knows it’s a long shot that he’s going to find Vincent, but he feels responsible. I don’t want or need him to be feeling even worse about the situation.”
Trey nodded at her, glad to see some color in her cheeks. The presentation had turned out to be a much-needed distraction from worrying about her brother.
His grip tightened on the loose silk tie in his hand, his mind drifting to better distractions.
He pushed the thought away.
There might be a time and a place for that, but not here and now.
“I’ll see you later,” Trey said as he went into his/Vincent’s suite.
“You will.” Ally stepped into the other room.
Trey eyed the room. He hadn’t given it much attention before, too busy searching the laptop for clues. After that, he’d been dealing with Edgar as the former bodyguard fussed over Trey’s dress shirt and tie, making sure the dark brown suit fit perfectly, even though it’d only be for a few hours.
He yawned, the events of the past day begin to weigh on him. He’d gone from working the computer banks on his seemingly never-ending search for a killer to playing dress-up for a rich woman. His eyes ached from staring at the screen, and he was hungry, their breakfast earlier only a fond memory.
Trey studied the empty bed. He wasn’t keen on sleeping, but his mind was fuzzy, and he’d be no good on the keyboard without a bit of rest.
A quick shower, a light meal from room service, and he crawled between the clean sheets, trying hard not to think of Ally.
Which, of course, was impossible.
As soon as his eyes closed, he saw her, curled up on the sofa and sleepy.
Trey growled in his half-sleep, hungry for the chance to touch her.
A dark shadow fell over his imaginary scenario, and he looked up to see Vincent Sheldon standing next to her.
The remembered roar of the racing car tore through Trey’s mind, matched with the quick shove from his friend that sent him flying into the nearby brick wall. Then came the sickening thud of Nick’s body hitting the sidewalk.
He woke with a start, sweating and panting as he fought to catch his breath. He rubbed a hand over his soaked head, fingers scratching his scalp to help bring him back down to earth.
Trey lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. He needed justice. Nick needed justice.
But the price…
…
She’d slept, but not well. Between exhausted naps, she lined up all the issues in priority, with Vincent alive and well at the start and his possible embezzlement further down the list.
Trey wasn’t much further away, her clouded thoughts shuffling him back and forth.
The rest carried her through to dinner—a club sandwich and soda from room service as she dealt with the accountants in an online meeting room. She’d had to fill them in on Vincent’s disappearance to explain the circumstances under which they’d accessed his laptop, swearing them to silence.
“So, how bad is it?” Ally kept her voice level, trying to hide the panic growing in her mind. The kernel of fear planted by Trey’s discovery had grown into a mighty oak tree, sweeping everything away.
The three men looking at her back through the screen glanced at each other before speaking.
“We’re still working our way through, but the preliminary results show it’s not terminal.” The first accountant adjusted his glasses. “We can recover, but it’ll take time.”
“Public relations nightmare,” the other man said, seated at the far end of the table. “If word gets out—”
“Then we make sure it doesn’t. The story, if anyone finds out and asks, is that we had an internal review and found some money had been misplaced, shuffled into the wrong accounts. If anyone wants anything deeper, they have to come to me. We keep this quiet, and we keep this under wraps from everyone.” She eyed them one at a time. “Including my parents. They don’t need to know about this, at least, not yet.”
The first man gave a slow nod. “But…”
“Our cover story for the time being is that Vincent’s out of commission with a stomach bug.” She rapped the edge of her pen on the tabletop. “I don’t need to tell you what will happen if this information gets out.”
“Understood,” he said before glancing at the other two men. “I hope he comes back soon.”
“You’re not the only one.” Ally gathered her notes. “Thank you for your hard work. I know you weren’t prepared for this, and I appreciate you putting in the extra hours to deliver this report.”
The youngest man cleared his throat. “I have to say, I’ve no idea how this got by us.” He turned to his peers, shaking his head. “This was going on for months, years. How did we all miss it?”
The two older men sat in silence, staring at their laptops and the ledgers spread out across the boardroom table.
“I can tell you why.” She got to her feet, the other men rising to join her in a show of courtesy. “Vincent’s always been able to do anything he wanted because he’s good at what he does when he puts his mind to it, and we’ve benefitted from that skill, looked the other way. That’s how he hid this away, so deep it took his disappearance and a damned good hacker to dig it out. Things are going to change when he comes back.”
Ally terminated the discussion, jabbing at the keyboard to disconnect.
She leaned back in the chair and checked the clock.
It’d been barely twenty-four hours since she’d landed in Las Vegas to find her adopted brother.
In that short time, the world had come down around her ears.
She picked up a quarter of the club sandwich and nibbled, wondering what else could go wrong.
The phone rang, fulfilling the curse.