Hidden Agenda

by Kara Lennox

  “I, um, I don’t want to embarrass Jillian further.”

  “You’re concerned about embarrassing me?” Jillian folded her arms. “That’s a switch. Anyway, I already told Daniel most of it.” She turned to Stan. “Conner made a paper dress from wood by-products and entered it in the science fair. He asked me to model it. Then someone turned the sprinklers on and the dress melted, and Conner, instead of lifting a finger to help me cover up, laughed hysterically while I fled the scene in my underwear.”

  “Mmm,” Daniel said, and that was when Conner realized he was biting his lip to keep from laughing.

  Stan faked a coughing fit.

  Jillian rolled her eyes. “Come on, guys, are we all thirteen years old here? I did carry a grudge, I’ll admit. But it’s not like I wanted Conner arrested for murder. I never seriously believed the gossip about him.”

  “Fair enough,” Conner said. “Jillian was playing Nancy Drew and she got carried away. But there’s no reason for her to continue working undercover at Mayall Lumber. If you need someone on the inside, you’ve got me. I’m going to find out who killed Greg Tynes.”

  “Really,” Daniel said. “And what have you uncovered so far?”

  “Tynes was involved in something. I’m not sure what, but he’d started performing his job erratically—showing up late, not returning phone calls, disappearing for days at a time.”

  Daniel started taking notes. “Go on.”

  “Tynes had a girlfriend. They had a contentious relationship, according to his mother and some emails I read. But I don’t know her name.”

  “What else?”

  “I’ve tried to figure out who Greg might have connected with at the company. I’ve searched offices and phone logs, email accounts. Nothing.”

  “Would you like to know what Jillian has accomplished?”

  Conner shrugged.

  Daniel had a neat stack of papers in front of him. “Jillian has been filing daily reports since she began working at Mayall Lumber. Her first day, she befriended a security guard.” Daniel read from the report. “‘Letitia tells me everyone thinks my new boss is the murderer. I don’t buy it, but I’ll proceed cautiously.’”

  Okay. So maybe she hadn’t believed he was a murderer.

  “She also cultivated a relationship with an investigative reporter who shared his opinions on who might be responsible for Greg’s death, and why.

  “She befriended the wife of budget director Isaac Cuddy, and though it wasn’t her job, identified him as a thief.”

  “That was never proved,” Conner said. He was feeling defensive, knew he should stop, but instead he plowed ahead. “The stolen goods were never found.”

  Jillian’s eyes widened in shock, and he immediately regretted his words. “You said you believed me!”

  “I did…do believe you. I’m just pointing out that your actions didn’t produce results.”

  Stan glowered at Conner. “A lot you know.”

  “Based on information Jillian provided by searching through Cuddy’s computer files and emails,” Daniel continued, “our cyber investigator at Project Justice was able to accumulate proof positive that Cuddy has been stealing from the company for years. We’ve turned it over to the district attorney, and charges will be filed within the next week.”

  “Huh.”

  “Jillian also discovered the identity of Greg’s girlfriend.”

  What? He’d tried every which way to discover the woman’s name. He’d talked to every friend and acquaintance of Greg’s. No one would reveal the mystery woman’s name. How had Jillian done it?

  “In the interest of her privacy, she’ll remain nameless for now.” Daniel folded the paper he’d been reading from and set it aside. “In short, Jillian has proved herself observant and resourceful in the execution of her first assignment. All while performing her administrative assistant duties with some degree of brilliance, despite the fact that you, Conner Blake, are a pain in the ass to work for.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Stan slapped his palm on the table. “He’s trying to say you’re damn lucky she’s put up with your B.S. for this long.”

  “So, Stan, you want her to continue as my admin?” The possibility didn’t bother him as much as it should have. Whether he was angry with her or making love to her, Jillian had made life at Mayall Lumber a whole lot more…stimulating.

  “Provided Jillian is willing to continue with this assignment,” Daniel said, “and I wouldn’t blame her if she bowed out.”

  Jillian actually came out of her chair. “Of course I don’t want to quit.”

  “Then it’s settled,” Daniel said. “The two of you will work together. Share information. But just remember this, Conner. Jillian works for me, not you. You will treat her with the respect she deserves. And you will keep it in your pants. Have I made myself clear?”

  Conner swallowed. He now understood why Daniel wielded so much power. It wasn’t merely the size of his bank account. “Perfectly.”

  * * *

  JILLIAN ARRIVED EARLY at the office the next day with two Krispy Kreme doughnuts and a large coffee. She placed them enticingly on her desk and hoped Conner arrived to work hungry, as he often did.

  She’d been shocked as hell that Daniel had wanted her to continue at Mayall Lumber. She’d been positive her investigative work hadn’t amounted to anything, but when he’d listed her accomplishments, she’d felt a sense of pride rising in her chest. She’d clearly made some mistakes, but she’d done some things right, too.

  That hadn’t stopped Daniel from reading her the riot act after Conner had left. He’d told her in very specific terms that, though she had potential as an investigator, she had to leave her emotions at home. Any other boss would have fired her, but out of respect for her family, her sterling character and all of the work she’d done for him in the past, he was giving her another chance.

  She was not going to reveal to Conner even a hint of her anger. Or any other emotion.

  An unhappy voice mail awaited her. “Jillian.” The screeching female didn’t identify herself, but she didn’t have to. “I thought we were friends. I knew you were too nice to be true, and now you’ve stabbed me in the back by casting suspicion on my husband. Well, good luck throwing the party on your own. Don’t count on my help—or that of any of the other directors’ wives. They won’t be returning your phone calls or answering your emails.” Click.

  Jillian sighed as she replaced her phone’s receiver into its cradle. She’d actually started to feel like Ariel was a friend. Now, due mostly to Jillian, her husband would likely go to jail. That sweet little boy, Benjamin, would be without a father, and their world as they knew it would cease to exist. Though Jillian believed people like Isaac Cuddy should be brought to justice, she couldn’t feel good about what she’d done. Friends just weren’t that easy to come by.

  “Krispy Kreme?”

  Jillian jumped. Lost in her own thoughts, she hadn’t seen Conner approach. “That’s right.” She scooted the two doughnuts closer, picked one up and took a big bite. She felt sinful, indulging in the forbidden treat. Next to frozen Snickers bars, glazed doughnuts were her favorite.

  Conner started to reach for the other one, but she snatched it out of his reach. “That’s not for you.”

  “Who’s it for?” He sounded bewildered.

  “Me. I’m going to eat them both. The coffee is mine, too.” She wanted to be extra sure he understood she wasn’t going to wait on him anymore.

  “Oh. You’re pretty mad at me, I guess.”

  “No, not mad. We both did what we had to do, and now it’s time to move forward.”

  “Agreed. Come into my office, and I’ll tell you our strategy for how, exactly, we’ll move forward.” He turned and headed to his office, clearly expecting her to follow.

  She just sat there, savoring her doughnut and coffee.

  A few moments later he reappeared. “Jillian?”

  “I’m sorry, were you speaking to me? Seems
like I heard some kind of order hurled at me, but I’m not sure.”

  He cleared his throat. “Jillian, would you please accept my invitation to sit down in the privacy of my office and discuss strategy?”

  “All right.”

  She wasn’t fooled. It took longer than five minutes to break the habit of tossing orders at someone who’d been your subordinate. But she felt certain he would adjust to the new status quo.

  As soon as she entered the office, memories assailed her—skin on skin, clothes flying, the sound of Conner’s breathing hot and fast, the feel of him inside her, also hot and fast.

  Her face flushed. She wished Conner had chosen some other location for their meeting, but Daniel’s advice was foremost in her brain. She absolutely could not allow her emotions to interfere with her work.

  She shoved aside the memories. Conner sat in one of the beautifully grained mission-style chairs. Jillian boldly sat on the sofa facing him, the exact spot where they’d made love.

  “So,” Conner began. “Who was Greg’s girlfriend? She could be the murderer, you know. A femme fatale. I want to talk to her.”

  “You should leave her to Daniel. Really.”

  “We’re supposed to be working together, Jillian. How can we do that if we aren’t honest with each other?”

  “Okay, but you’re not going to like it. He was seeing Chandra.”

  Conner’s jaw fell open. “Chandra, my ex-wife Chandra?”

  Jillian nodded.

  “Well, that makes sense. She fell for me when I had Greg’s job. How did you find out?” He didn’t seem too upset.

  “Letitia, the security guard. She knows everything.”

  “Chandra had nothing to do with Greg’s murder,” Conner said. “Daniel is wasting time if he thinks she’s capable of—”

  “But she might know what Greg was involved in,” Jillian pointed out. “The thing he was going to tell the reporter about.”

  “And you don’t have any idea what that thing was?”

  “None,” she admitted. “Unless it was somehow related to Cuddy’s theft, but that seems unlikely. From what I could tell, Cuddy and Greg never crossed paths.”

  “They didn’t. Cuddy gave me a budget, and I administered it. Greg worked for me. There would be no reason for Greg to deal directly with Cuddy.”

  “So what else could Greg have discovered? He spent most of his time in the field, right?”

  “Yeah. He dealt some with the mills, but I’ve been going over everything. Nothing jumps out. I keep going back to how Greg marked those trees at Stirrup Creek.”

  “Has he done a bad job marking trees at any other locations?”

  “He was behaving erratically—missing deadlines, disappearing for days at a time. That’s why I brought him closer to home. But I don’t have any information specifically about tree marking. I’ve made inquiries at his last few jobs and I’m waiting to hear back.”

  Jillian held up one finger. “What if one of your competitors was paying him to screw things up? Make Mayall Lumber look bad?”

  Conner frowned. “Why didn’t I think of that? You know, you’re pretty good at this investigating stuff.”

  She leaned back and crossed her legs. “Thank you.” Score one for the home team.

  “I’m going back to Stirrup Creek. I’ll talk to everyone associated with that job. Someone must know something.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?” Please, dear God, let him say no. She didn’t think she could handle spending hours with him in a car. No matter how disastrous their hookup had turned out, she couldn’t stop wanting him—now more than ever.

  Like Eve with her apple, she’d tasted forbidden fruit and wanted more, even if it meant eternal damnation. She forced herself to picture Stan Mayall’s face. She had to be strong for that poor, sick old man. Now that she had an actual living and breathing person to attach to the name, she had stronger motivation to free him. Daniel was doing everything he could to ensure Stan received good medical care, but he was still in jail.

  If he was dying, he at least deserved to die in the comfort of his own home.

  “You can probably be more use here,” Conner said diplomatically, and she relaxed slightly. “Don’t you have a party to plan?”

  “Yes. And since Ariel and the other wives have abandoned me, there’s more work than ever.” Lots of people to talk to, conversations to eavesdrop on, offices to snoop through. She would have to be more careful than she was when she’d searched Isaac Cuddy’s office. Conner wouldn’t be here to save her bacon with a steamy kiss if she got caught.

  * * *

  AS A MEANS OF INVESTIGATING, Jillian’s party-planning had yielded mixed results. She had a list of who was coming to the picnic and what food they would bring, but she hadn’t stumbled across any smoking guns.

  The one thing she had discovered was that everyone was horrified at the prospect of Chandra Mayall inheriting the company. Some of the adjectives used to describe her included scheming, grasping, lying sack of silicone and man-eater. The more Jillian learned about Conner’s ex-wife, the more strongly she believed Chandra should be considered a serious suspect. She was in a contentious relationship with the deceased and she had money problems, which gave her strong motive for killing Greg and framing her grandfather.

  But she certainly couldn’t tell Conner of her suspicions. He’d made his feelings clear on that matter. She reported everything to Daniel; he could decide how to proceed.

  Her “partnership” with Conner was in name only. They were each pursuing their own agendas. Once a day they met to compare notes. She wasn’t sharing everything with him, and she suspected he wasn’t being totally open, either. She continued her admin responsibilities—Conner still had a job to perform. But she remained cool toward him, afraid that if their relationship warmed even a few degrees, she would find herself naked in his arms again.

  Keeping things on a coolly professional level was her safest course of action.

  As her third week as an investigator churned past, she found herself stupidly excited about the company picnic. At least this was something she knew she was good at, and with or without Ariel and her crew, it was going to be a success. The one thing she hadn’t done was personally visit the venue.

  So on the following Thursday, almost a week since she blew her cover, she informed Conner she would be gone for half the day, paying a visit to Mayall Mill Number One.

  “That’s fantastic,” he said, which wasn’t the reaction she’d been expecting. Damn, he looked good today in a baby-blue golf shirt, fashionably wrinkled khakis and loafers. On him, business casual looked as stunning as a thousand-dollar suit would on someone else.

  It was the way he carried himself, she decided. As if he owned the whole damn world.

  “You want to be rid of me that bad?”

  “No, it’s just that I really need to visit Mill Number One, as well. Although it’s more of a tourist attraction than anything, we still mill some exotic woods there—the real fine stuff used by artists and handcrafted furniture makers. Apparently there was a problem with some bird’s-eye maple from Michigan. The miller there says the wood that arrived isn’t the quality that was supposedly harvested.”

  “Let me guess—Greg Tynes was involved.”

  “You got it.”

  “So…you want to come with me?”

  “If you don’t mind. We can share a car. Every little bit saved in the budget is a help. And it’s ecological.”

  Right. How could she say no to that, just because she found her heart aching whenever she was in the same room with him? Clearly he wasn’t similarly bothered. He acted like nothing had happened, that they were just two colleagues.

  He was the one who’d wanted her off the case. He’d been steaming about that listening device. So why wasn’t he mad anymore? Maybe he got over arguments faster than she did.

  “All right,” she agreed breezily. “I can leave whenever you’re ready.”

  “Let’s see what t
he motor pool has available.”

  Twenty minutes later, they were on the road once again headed to a location in the Piney Woods. Jillian made no effort to engage Conner in conversation. She was willing to cooperate for the sake of helping Stan, but that was as far as it went. She couldn’t get those harsh words Conner had spoken to her out of her mind.

  She let him drive, of course. Macho man probably wouldn’t tolerate letting the little lady take the wheel. She sat hunched in the passenger seat of their company car, a sporty little hybrid, and focused on her phone, answering email and texting back and forth with her mother, who knew nothing about Jillian’s new career. She thought Jillian was working as an admin at Project Justice, and Jillian found herself having to make up fake accounts of what her job entailed. Her mom would have thrown a fit if she knew that by day Jillian snooped around in executives’ offices, and in the evenings, she practiced her shooting and learned Tae Kwon Do.

  “So you’re still not talking to me?” Conner asked after twenty minutes of silence.

  “If there’s something you want to talk about, relating to the case, I’m available.”

  He sighed.

  She did her best to ignore that.

  “I just thought we could take a step back.”

  “Back in time, you mean? To that brief period where we were nice to each other? Not possible.”

  “Can we at least be friends?”

  She sent him a scathing look. “Let me think… Uh, no.”

  “It’s going to be hard seeing each other, day in and day out, and not be friends.”

  “If there’s one lesson I’ve learned over the past three weeks it’s that there is no room in the workplace for emotions. Positive or negative. I intend to be responsible and efficient with you and everyone else I work with. If that’s not to your liking, bring it up with Daniel.”

  “Daniel.”

  Something about the way he said the billionaire’s name stuck in her craw. “What about Daniel?”

  “He’s really something. And he sure seems to think you hung the sun and the moon.”

  That made her laugh. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. He came very close to firing me, and the only reason he didn’t was out of respect for my family.”