“Annabelle.”
She just looks at me, her eyes glazed over.
“How are things going here?”
She cocks her head to the side and squints at me. “I’m in fucking jail. What do you think?”
“You can tell them what they want to know.”
She looks to the door as if someone is going to rush in any second. “I don’t know anything.”
“I think you do, and so do they.”
She gives me the evil eye. “What do you think you know?”
“Your brother is Adam Reeves, and he goes by the hacker name Adam McIntosh.”
Her eyes grow large for a moment, but quickly she controls herself.
I want to keep her off balance, so I decide to share what I know. “Adam is the head of the Robin Hood Party, and they’re behind the obliteration of Pineapple Technologies and the attempted destruction of about a dozen other start-ups SHN has worked with. Plus, we believe Adam is behind the attempted poisoning of me with wolfsbane and the attempt on my life as well as CeCe’s last night when they shot up her house and the car we were driving in.”
She seems surprised—I don’t think she knew the last part—but it’s quickly replaced by a sour look. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out,” she replies snarkily.
“Maybe, but what I’m unclear about is why you did it. Why did you want to go after me so hard and destroy so many lives, then try and poison me?”
I realize that what I first saw as defiance may actually be fear.
I lean in. “Annabelle, let me hire you the best attorney in San Francisco to get you out of this mess. But please tell me, are you scared of Adam?”
Tears pool in her eyes.
“Please, Annabelle, tell me what he’s doing.”
“I can’t,” she whispers.
“Yes you can. I’ll make sure you’re okay.”
I see the hesitation in her eyes, but I push on.
“I have two lawyers we can call to work out a deal. Just tell me something that will convince me you were trapped or blackmailed into participating.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with the wolfsbane poisoning. When I moved out of your place, I left my cell phone behind and moved down to my sister’s in Anaheim Hills.”
A rush of relief flows through me. Not only were my instincts on track, but it shows she’s talking.
“Tell me about your brother.”
“Foster brother. We met in a home when he was thirteen and I was ten. He lived there for five years and was kicked out on his eighteenth birthday. He didn’t care, because he’d worked hard to get his football scholarship to Stanford.”
“You must’ve kept in touch over the years.”
“He kept in touch with my older foster sister. When I dropped out of community college, I was lost, and she convinced me to move up to San Francisco, with a promise he’d help me find a job.”
“How did you end up at SHN?”
“I’m not sure. I interviewed for a receptionist job, and I got it. It was great for the first few months. We’d meet each night for dinner, and he’d ask me questions about all of you. I didn’t think I was telling him anything super confidential. He’d ask simple questions like ‘What kind of company is SHN looking to invest in this week?’ I’d blather on and on, not realizing I was feeding him information. He encouraged me to go out with Dillon. I actually thought he was setting us up, but once I shared that he was tight with Emerson, the new partner, he encouraged me to pursue you instead.”
“When did you realize he was going after our investments?”
“When he went crazy mad after I asked him if he sold information about Page Software to other VC firms. He was verbally and physically abusive to me.”
“Why didn’t you come to me? Why didn’t you tell me this was going on?”
Her eyes glisten. “Because I realized I’d been the mole and had been giving him company secrets. I didn’t do it on purpose, but I didn’t think anyone would believe me.”
“Annabelle! You shared my bed. Why wouldn’t I believe you?”
“Because we had a relationship of convenience. We liked each other, but we didn’t love each other. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to marry you, but you offered a great escape from Adam. I worked hard to keep you both apart.”
I can’t tell if she’s being honest with me, so I feel the need to ask, “Annabelle, are you telling me the whole truth?”
“I am. I swear I am.”
“How did Adam get SHN’s research and send it around to our competitors?”
Silence.
“Annabelle, you need to be honest with me. We can dig you out, but only once we know the truth.”
“He made me.”
“What do you mean, he made you?”
“When I confronted him about being the mole, he blackmailed me for more information, said he’d call the FBI and tell them I was behind everything.” She looks down at her lap and begins to weep.
“Are you Eve Ambrosia?”
Silence.
“Who is Eve Ambrosia?”
“I don’t know.”
“Really? Adam McIntosh and Eve Ambrosia are brother and sister. Wouldn’t a sister of Adam’s be a sister to you?”
“Not necessarily. It may be someone from a different foster home.”
“When would he have met her?”
“I don’t know.”
“Annabelle, I promise I’ll contact an attorney for you. We’re going to do what we can, but you’re going to have to be honest with me, and if at any time I feel you’re working against me, then I’ll pull my funding of the attorney. Do you understand?”
Annabelle's shoulders are shaking. She’s full-on crying now.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
I get up to leave, then turn back to look at her. “Who do you think poisoned me?”
“It might’ve been Adam, but I’m not sure.”
“How did he do it?”
“I only learned later that they had a key to your apartment, put the wolfbane into your toothpaste for a slow poisoning, but it was too slow, and they added more to your salad the night you got sick.” Annabelle looks up at me with desperation in her eyes. “When I moved out, I left San Francisco and moved down to my sister’s. It wasn’t me. You were my best friend. I couldn’t do that to you.”
I leave the interview room and walk back to Cora’s office feeling dejected. I can’t believe I could’ve lived with someone who didn’t think I’d protect her against an abusive brother.
“Mason, that was amazing,” Cora says when I enter her office. “You got more information out of her than we ever could have.”
“We still don’t know who Eve is, so even if we cut the head off the snake, Eve could continue to run the organization.”
“Do you think Annabelle could be Eve?”
“You know, I’m not sure,” I reply honestly. “I’m almost positive that she doesn’t have any coding skills. I lived with her for over two years, and while there was plenty of code lying around, she just glanced at it at most. I don’t even think she can read HTML.”
“Well, she gave us several threads we can unravel, nonetheless. You really did a great job. We’re close.”
“I’m going to call her a lawyer to help negotiate a deal for her, and then I think I’m going to go home and take a nap for the next five years. Wake me up when this thing goes to trial.”
“I think we’ll be done a lot sooner than that.” Cora pats me on the back.
Chapter twenty-eight
CeCe
I glance through the emails, texts, and transcribed voice mails that Cora handed me. They’ve pulled conversations they’re questioning. I can tell some of these are from Becca and someone on Jeremy’s team at Accurate Communications. Those are fine and above board. That’s a relief.
I settle myself in my library where I can put my feet up and read through everything. It’s nice to be in my own house. I know Maso
n and I will have to figure out where we’re going to live, but I hope it’s here at least part of the time. I love this house, and it’s a perfect place to raise a family.
As I read through some of the printed materials, there are some that seem off. They’re talking about previous seasons but not saying things correctly. For instance, Prussian was the blue in this summer’s line, and the message reads “Prussian is too pink to sell well.” Not only is it more of a purple-blue, but it’s also off the market by the date this conversation took place. That doesn’t make any sense to me. I highlight multiple passages that are off just like it.
The words on the pages begin to blur, so I take a break from reading and do some listening instead. I open the MP3 player on my computer and see there are seventeen tracks. I start with the first, sitting back, putting my feet up, and just listening.
“I’ll bring that flower drink with me the next time I come. It has quite the bang.” I recognize Scarlet’s voice and know she’s talking about an alcoholic drink she makes. I get why they flagged it—wolfsbane is a flower, and “bang” could have other connotations—but she’s fine.
“Why are you calling me at the office? You know I can’t talk here.” That’s Evelyn’s voice. I’ve never been strict about personal calls unless they become overly excessive, and Evelyn worked her way up at Metro because of her dedication.
“I need your help. He found me,” the woman wails on the phone.
“You know what you’re supposed to do. Don’t bother me here at work,” Evelyn tells her sternly.
“I don’t have any money on me to pick up my go-bag.” Go-bag? Isn’t that what spies use when they’ve been found out? Do people really have those?
“Figure it out and call me when you get here.”
“Fine. You’re no help.” The call ends. I hear something I can’t quite place, so I listen to the conversation again. And I’m almost convinced. I listen to it one more time, and I think it might be a voice I know.
I decide I’ll come back to it and move on to the next conversation.
“You know I hate this job, right?” I recognize Becca’s voice. “This isn’t what I signed up for. I want happy things, not this shit we’re dealing with. And now she’s talking about walking us into a deep shit storm, and my life is going to be miserable.”
“Just hang tight. If you can weather this storm and whatever else comes your way, I know you’ll have plenty of other opportunities.” I don’t know who Becca’s talking to. I think she’s just complaining about her job. I don’t blame her.
I listen to a few more messages. Every once in a while, I hear bitterness toward the company and me. “She has the money, and she’s the one who fucked up. Maybe if she were around a bit more, we wouldn’t be in this mess.” It isn’t the words but how it’s said; this message is more menacing than it is factual. Yes, I have money, but why does that play into how the fall line was stolen? I didn’t sell it. Around more? I work harder than most of my staff. Maybe I do run off in the middle of the day for a three-hour lunch or walk in at eleven, but I still put in on average ten- to twelve-hour days.
I take a deep breath and remind myself that I can’t take this personally.
I sit back and look at my notepad. There are seventeen messages. Roughly half are Evelyn’s and half are Becca’s. Scarlett had one, but I’m able to discount it. As I look them over, the pit in my stomach grows. It’s time to talk to Cora.
Mason walks in and kisses me on the head. “Hi, beautiful. How was your day?”
I sit back hard in my chair. My jaw hurts from clenching so hard, and my head is pounding. “Can you listen to this?”
I play the message.
“Who is Annabelle talking to?”
Holy crap! That’s exactly why the voice seemed recognizable. It’s Annabelle. “I’m listening to the questionable recordings from the FBI with my staff.”
Mason stops, turns, and looks at me. “Play it again.”
I turn up the volume and we listen to the recording again.
“Who’s she talking to?” I can hear the excitement in his voice. This is a big clue that Annabelle and Evelyn are talking.
“Evelyn.”
“Evelyn who?”
“Evelyn Stevens in my office. The VP of operations.”
“Are you sure?”
I definitely don’t want to be wrong, because this is huge if it is Annabelle, so we listen to it three more times.
“It’s Annabelle. I’m sure of it,” Mason confirms.
“We need to call Cora.”
“I know.” But I also know that once I make this call, my world is going to change. If Annabelle is related to Adam and there’s a connection to Evelyn, then I’ve been betrayed by my closest confidant at work. I feel like my heart is being ripped from my body, thrown to the floor, walked on, and then driven over. I look at my hands, but I don’t see them. The tears begin to fall.
Mason reaches out to me and pulls me into a hug. “It’s okay,” he repeats while rubbing my back.
“Why would she do this?” I’ve always been a good boss. She was promoted quickly, paid well, and had plenty of opportunities to take us down. Why wait until now?
“I don’t know, but I’m sure we’ll find out.”
“And this tells us the hackers are related.” The bitterness of the sting of deception rings through my words.
“Let’s call Cora. Her team needs to know.”
I gather up my notes, and Mason calls from his cell phone and pops it on speaker between us.
“Hello, Mason. Long time no talk.”
“Hey, Cora. I’m here with Caroline.”
“Hello,” CeCe volunteers
Suddenly I’m no longer hurt, I’m fucking pissed off. She’s violated not only all the confidentiality statements she’s signed and our friendship, but the biggest thing of all is she violated girl code. I trusted her with personal details of my life, and she shared pieces of her own personal life. Evelyn needs to be arrested. “I’ve gone through all the printed materials. There are about a dozen that don’t make any sense. For example”—I flip to the first email that I question—“on page 23, it says our distributor is Callahan, but actually Rockwell is our distributor. I have no idea who Callahan is.”
“This is good.” Cora’s put us on speakerphone on her end as well. “I’m pulling this call into the conference room, and I’d like to have the team join us. Can you hang tight a moment?” I hear some rustling, and then she repeats what I’ve just shared. “What else doesn’t make sense or doesn’t work?”
“I’ve highlighted them all and made notes. There are about a dozen similar instances.” I walk them through each one and answer questions posed by the team asking for some direction on why the possible misdirection. “I can’t be sure, but I’ve made some notes on the document. I’ll give them to you next time I see you.”
“Perfect.” I can hear more excitement in Cora’s voice. “How did you do with the MP3 messages?”
“The first track is Scarlett talking about a drink she makes. We’ve all had it. It’s one of those that’s pretty strong, so you can only have one or you’re feeling it for a few days. I feel confident she’s off the list.”
“Good to know.”
“The tracks from Becca are more about her unhappiness in the office, or she’s talking to our crisis communication team in New York. I don’t know who she’s talking to, but it’s relatively benign. Might be her sister or best friend. I feel comfortable eliminating her.”
“We do, too,” Cora shares.
“So you knew it was Evelyn after all?”
“We suspected,” she hedges, and I appreciate that she didn’t tell me outright and let me figure it out. I would’ve had a tougher time believing her unless I heard it from Evelyn’s mouth rather than from Cora’s.
“Did you catch the conversation between Evelyn and Annabelle on track three?”
“What?... No!... Are you sure?”
“I lived with her for
almost two years, I’ve heard her cry more than once. It’s her,” Mason assures her.
I can’t let it go that they knew and didn’t tell me. “If you knew it was Evelyn, why didn’t you just tell me?”
“We were 80 percent there. We needed your thoughts, but we also didn’t want to taint you or disrupt things if we were mistaken.”
“I was so convinced it wasn’t her that I almost told her several times, but something always interrupted me.”
“I’m glad you didn’t. She most likely would’ve run. But honestly, I knew you wouldn’t say anything. Your business means too much to you, and you wanted to be sure we caught the right person,” Cora impresses upon me.
“Now what? I want her arrested and put in jail!” Anger envelopes my words.
“I’ll come get the notes from you now, and then we’ll draw up the warrants. I can arrest her at the office in the morning, or I can do it beforehand. Your call.”
“Do you have her under surveillance?” I want her marched out of our offices in front of everyone. I want my whole company to know who tried to take it all away from them. But I also want to be smart. I’d rather her be caught than give her time to get away.
“We do. If it looks like she’s going to run, we can act quickly.”
“I hate to sound spiteful, but I think I’d like her arrested at the office. I want everyone to know who’s behind this mess we’re in.”
“I’ll meet you at your place at seven, and I’ll collect the materials from you. Then my team and I will begin working on the warrants for her arrest.”
“We’ll be here,” Mason assures her.
He hangs up the phone, and I look at him pleadingly. “Why would she do this?”
“I don’t know, but we’ll find out.” I love his confidence. I sure hope he’s right. The last thing I want is for her to deny it, because then it looks like I’m using her as my scapegoat.
Mason holds me for a few moments while I truly come to grips with the betrayal I feel. “We should call Jim. I want to look at the deep dive he did on Evelyn.”
Fascination: (Billionaire Venture Capitalist #9): A Friends to Lovers Romance Page 25