by Shay Stone
I’m starting to understand Harrison a little more, and I feel bad for passing judgment on the guy. “I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for him.”
“It was awful. And it was all my fault. I was careless and I ruined his entire family.”
Her words remind me of something she said the night we met. “I don’t get to be careless. I always have to be the responsible one.”
“After that I tried to do anything I could to help out. Every minute I wasn’t in school, I spent with Katie. I never joined any clubs or hung out with any friends. My whole life centered around her. And when I wasn’t with her, I would obsess about ways she might get hurt.”
“That had to be stressful. You were just a kid yourself. You shouldn’t have had to worry about those kinds of things.”
“I couldn’t stop. I’d wake up screaming with nightmares. Dad didn’t know what to do with me. We tried counseling, but that didn’t work. He forced me to spend my summers in California with Alex and Jen hoping it would help me relax and act like a normal teenager. We always had fun, but then I’d feel guilty for it. When I got home, I’d fall right back into the same habits. To ease my mind, Dad started coming up with inventions to assure me Katie would be safe. That’s how Moreau Enterprises was born. He tried to include Uncle Harrison in the company, hoping it would help him to know something good came out of something terrible. But Harrison didn’t see it that way.”
“He thought Edward was trying to profit from his daughter’s misfortune.”
“Yes. Again, I think part of him knew that wasn’t true and he battled with it. But two years ago, Katie had a grand mal seizure she never recovered from. After she died, Uncle Harrison snapped. I think he resented watching us move on with our lives. My dad still had me. And I was living a life his daughter never had the chance to. I started the charity to honor Katie and show him we’d never forget her, but that only made him angrier. I think it bothered him that I was never punished. He started drinking and gambling away everything he had. And now he’s pissed off at my dad for taking away his position. That’s why when I discovered the phony purchase orders and asked accounting whose computer it tracked to, I wasn’t surprised to learn it was his.”
“Did you confront Harrison about it?”
“Yeah, but he denied it. Said if anyone was stealing, it was probably me. I didn’t expect him to come clean, but I wanted him to at least know I was aware of what he was doing. I thought maybe that’d make him stop.”
This new information makes my head spin. I don’t know what to believe anymore. Nyla has no reason to lie to me now. There’s only one problem. “Nyla the purchase orders didn’t come from his computer. They came from yours.”
“Mine? That’s impossible,” Nyla mutters, looking off into the distance. “Then again, maybe it’s not. Uncle Harrison has keys to every office, just like my dad. He could’ve used my computer. And I have noticed a few things out of place in my office over the last few months. It’s why I enabled my password. But why would he frame me?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe he thought it would drive a wedge between you and your dad. Or maybe he thought your dad would let it go and wouldn’t confront you about the money if he found out.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Something’s not sitting right with me. Harrison couldn’t even access his own text messages without my help. There’s no way he could hack into Nyla’s computer. Even if he knew the password, I doubt he’d have the first clue how to set up companies and redirect payments into separate accounts.
Then something hits me. “Wait. Did you say you discovered the purchase orders?”
“Yeah, every quarter, I go through our books as a precaution. My dad trusts our accounting department, but I like to double check everything to see if we’re overspending. I told you, I’m a control freak. A few months ago, I came across several purchase orders and payments to a company I didn’t recognize. I checked with accounting to see whose computer generated them and was told they came from Harrison’s. I thought maybe it was just an accident. But then I came across … well you’ve seen the file I have keeping track of all of them.”
“And who in accounting told you they came from Harrison’s computer?”
“Michael. He was in my office when I stumbled across the discrepancy. I asked him to keep it quiet and check into it for me. Why?”
Son-of-a-bitch. I am being played, but not by Nyla.
“You said you printed out copies?
“Yes. Every time I found one, I printed it. But after you came in, I went back and started deleting them to buy some time while I figured out what to do.”
That explains why I kept coming up empty on my searches. “You didn’t take them from my desk?”
“No. I didn’t even know you had copies.”
“I need to go to the office.”
“Now?”
“Yes.” I start toward the door, but stop and tangle my fingers in Nyla’s hair, kissing her like a soldier going off to war. “You are still my angel. And Trevor’s wrong. You’re going to be an amazing mom someday.”
Her eyes fill with hope. “You really think so?”
“I know so.”
She smiles wide.
“I need to go right now, but we’ll talk about this more later,” I say, tearing myself away from her. “I love you. Don’t worry. By the end of the week, everything will be fixed.”
“How?” she calls after me but I’m already out the door.
Twenty minutes later, I’m at Moreau Enterprises ripping apart my desk. There, in the bottom drawer I never use, I find the manila envelope Mike left for me with all the paperwork tucked inside. I pull out the oldest purchase order dated approximately three months prior.
Dammit! I was in such a rush I didn’t grab the other copies from Nyla’s desk. I close my eyes envisioning the ones I read in her office. A victorious smile crosses my face. I’ve got it.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Be Patient
Spies and con men have a lot in common. There are times your life depends on whether you can make a person believe you’re telling the truth. You have to become a pro at looking someone in the eye and lying to them. Your pupils can’t dilate. Your heart rate must remain steady. Something as simple as a bead of sweat on a brow could blow your entire cover. That’s the reason spies and con men tend not to form attachments. One of the hardest things to do is lie to someone you love.
Or someone that knows you as well as you know yourself.
And that’s exactly what I’ve had to do every day for the last week. I figured out everything on Sunday, which meant I couldn’t contact the banks to begin having the money wire transferred back into the Moreau accounts until Monday morning. Finding the bank account information was easy enough thanks to my hacking skills and access to the laptop holding them. But I had to route the money through several different accounts and transfer it back in small increments to be certain not to raise any red flags with the IRS, and that took a little time.
I practically float into the building when I check my phone Friday morning and see the final transfer has been made. It’s all coming together. My family is safe from Vito and starting to get settled in the new apartment. Nyla and I have been staying with them to help take care of Mason while he recovers. My dad took an immediate liking to her. And she’s so good with him. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, given the patience and compassion she exhibits with the kids she works with and demonstrates with Harrison. There’s one last hurdle to overcome and then Nyla and I are free to be together.
“You’re awfully chipper this morning. What’s that sexy little smile for?” Nyla asks on the elevator ride up.
“Just thinking about all the dirty things I’m going to do to you when we get home later,” I reply, nipping at her lobe.
She leans back into me giving my cock a gentle squeeze through my pants. “Why wait when there’s still one perfectly good supply closet we haven’t christened yet?”
Have I mentioned how much I love this woman?
I take advantage of the slit in the back of her skirt gliding my hand up her inner thigh, until I reach the thin material between her legs. She sucks in a breath as I tease her through the lace. “Or we could christen the elevator. We haven’t done that yet,” I point out, pushing the fabric aside and plunging a finger into her. She’s already wet for me, and I fucking love it. The carnal moan that escapes her has my cock standing at full attention.
The carriage slows, and Nyla straightens her spine pushing my hand away before the doors open to our floor. She gazes over her shoulder. “Supply closet. Ten minutes.”
I suck her taste from my fingers and am halfway to my desk thinking about how damn lucky I am when I hear Nyla’s blood-curdling scream. Panic. Sheer fucking panic seizes me. Vito. He’s here. Somehow, he found me, and he’s got Nyla.
I race down the hall faster than Usain Bolt in the hundred-meter race with my heart lodged in my throat. I find Nyla on her knees behind the desk performing chest compressions on Harrison. “No, you’re not dying. Come on, Harrison. Please!” she cries.
As I come closer, I see Harrison’s eyes are open and vacant. I drop down to feel for a pulse knowing I won’t find one. His body is cold and rigid. Rigor mortis has set in. He’s been dead for hours.
“Angel, he’s gone,” I whisper, pulling her back, but she fights me, pushing me away and resumes the compressions.
“No!” she snaps, refusing to accept the truth. “He can’t be.”
“Baby, he is. I’m sorry.” I haul her against my chest where she finally succumbs, crying into my shirt. “He’s with Katie and your Aunt Wendy now. They’re a family again.”
She sits up wiping away tears. “I have to tell my dad. I should call him. I don’t want him to come in here and see Harrison like this.”
“Okay, why don’t you do that, and I’ll take care of everything else?”
I make the necessary phone calls and try to handle as much as possible in the office to allow Nyla and Edward time together to grieve in private. With Emily’s help, we manage to get through the day pretty well. I’m sending an email from Edward’s computer when Mike strolls in, dropping into the chair across from me like a bored teenager.
“Harrison kicked the bucket, eh? Can’t say I’ll miss the prick.”
“Would you show some respect? You have no idea what that man’s been through.”
“I don’t give a shit what he’s been through. The guy was an asshole. When did you get such a soft spot for Harrison?” He interlocks his fingers behind his head and kicks his feet up on the desk. “What are you doing in here, anyway?”
“Emily is running an errand and Edward had a time-sensitive email that needed a document attached. He asked me to send it.”
I don’t elaborate, but I was touched Edward trusted me enough to sign onto his computer. Normally, that would have been a big mistake. I’d download the entire system onto a USB drive and comb through every inch of it until I discovered something to exploit. But the thought never entered my mind. Well it did, not because I was contemplating doing it, but because, for the first time, I didn’t have the inclination.
Mike straightens in his chair. “You have full access to Edward’s computer?”
“Yes, and don’t even say it,” I warn, already knowing what he’s thinking. Like I said, at any other point in time, I’d be thinking it too.
“Come on, Memphis. He gave you the keys to the kingdom.
This is your opportunity to find out those secrets you always tell me everyone is hiding. At the very least you can peek at his portfolio. Then we’ll know exactly how much we could take them for.”
“We’re not taking them for anything. The con’s off, Mike.”
He makes a show of slinking down in his chair and rolling his eyes. “Not this again. Why now? How did Nyla snow you this time?”
“Nyla’s not the one that’s been snowing me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I know, Mike.”
He regards me cautiously, careful not to volunteer any information. “You know what?”
“I know you’re the one who’s been embezzling,” I reply, glancing up to gauge his reaction.
He sits forward in the chair planting his feet onto the floor. “What the hell are you talking about? Your precious Nyla is the one stealing. Not me. Don’t tell me she’s suckered you into thinking it was me?”
He’s faking outrage to put me on the defensive. But I saw it. That flicker of panic in his eyes right before the vehement denial.
“Give it up, Mike. I know about all of it. The bogus purchase orders. Inflating invoices so you could skim off the top. Did you think I wouldn’t remember the names of the shelf companies you set up? You know how my brain works. I never forget anything. You weren’t even smart enough to use different bank accounts. You funneled all the money into the same one which made it really easy to track down.”
“You’re wrong. I can prove it. I printed out the purchase orders. Check your desk. You’ll see they came from Nyla’s computer,” he pleads, digging his heels in deeper.
“You’re right. The ones you printed did come from her computer. What you didn’t realize was Nyla made copies of the ones she found. They’re almost identical, except for one key difference—a number in the sequence is off. And guess whose computer that number is tied to.”
“If it’s mine, then it’s because Nyla made it look that way.” He stands up, running a hand through his hair. “Memphis, can’t you see what she’s doing? She’s trying to turn us against each other. Or are you really that damn conceited that you can’t fathom the idea someone could be pulling one over on you?”
I have to give him credit for his commitment. He’s sticking to his lie and redirecting blame, trying to make me doubt someone else. Just like I taught him.
“You know, I’ll admit you almost had me,” I concede, waving a finger in the air. “It was a smart play to make me think Nyla was the one stealing and make her think it was Harrison. You knew I’d never buy Harrison as the thief. The man was hardly ever in the office and when he was, he could barely work a coffee pot, never mind hack a computer. But you knew Nyla wouldn’t question it. Her immediate instinct would be to protect him. And you knew the more she denied it, and the more evidence I found, the more I’d think she was just like Callie. You planted that seed and I bit right into it.”
“I’m telling you; you’ve got this all wrong.”
“Mike, would you just stop? It’s over! Edward didn’t tell you about the codes. Nyla did. And by then, your fingerprints were all over it. After that, you started breaking into her office and using her computer. It had to be easy enough since she never enabled her password until she started getting suspicious.”
I lean back in the chair watching him flounder as I unravel his lies one by one. “You know, I couldn’t figure out why you came back with your tail between your legs after all those months of not speaking to me, but it was because you needed me. If you wanted to keep stealing and not get caught, you had to pin it on someone else. But you couldn’t figure out how to hack into the main computer to change the code on the ones you’d already made. You needed me to show you how to do it. You’ve been lying to me since the beginning.”
“So what if I was? This was supposed to be my con. I make the rules. Just because you don’t have the balls to take advantage of an opportunity, doesn’t mean I don’t. That’s what real cons do.”
“You’re not a con. You’re a hack. You may have had the balls, but you sure as hell didn’t have the brains. You were sloppy. Not only did you take large sums, which threw up all kinds of red flags, you also told me whoever was stealing was doing it for a while. But when you printed out the purchase orders, you changed the code but forgot to change the dates. Funny that the embezzling began right after you started working here.”
He remains quiet, staring me down. “There was never any sweetheart con until I came along.
That’s why your research was so half-ass and you never made any real headway with Nyla. You were straight up embezzling. You only started getting close to Nyla to find out how much she knew and see if you could figure out her password.”
His face sours knowing he has no play. “So, what’re you gonna do? Turn me in?”
“No Mike. I’m not going to turn you in. Right now, Nyla believes it’s Harrison, and now that he’s gone and can’t deny it, I’m willing to leave it that way. Here's what’s going to happen. You’re going to quit. I don’t care what excuse you give them. Tell them you’re moving because your aunt needs help with the autistic cousin you made up. I don’t care. Once you’re gone, and I know you can’t hurt Nyla or her family anymore, I’ll transfer your money back into the account.”
“Transfer my money back?”
“Oh, did I forget to mention I hacked into your bank account and put back everything you stole and drained any other money you had in there?” I turn the computer monitor to face him revealing his bank account information.
His face flames red when he sees the zero balance. “What the hell, Memphis? How did you get into my account?”
“I went through the search history on your laptop and found what bank you used. From there it was easy. Mother’s maiden name … street you grew up on … social security number. All shit I had since we grew up together. You didn’t even use an alias or try to switch up the answers to the security questions.”
“You son-of-a-bitch,” he grates through clenched teeth.
“I warned you when I brought you in. We may lie to the world, but for this to work we could never lie to each other. The moment I felt like I couldn’t trust you was the moment we were done. And I don’t trust you anymore. Now go. Get as far away from Nyla and her family as you can. I’ll wire the money into an account once I know you’re gone for good.”
“And wouldn’t that be convenient for you? I’m left with nothing while you stay and close the deal?”