Challenging Matt

by Julianna Morris

  Now flowers.

  She’d thought about objecting, particularly about the chores around the house, but what was the harm, really? There was a difference between being helpless and doing nothing for yourself, and a reasonable give and take.

  She debated, then went into the kitchen and made a very strong cup of milky tea. Stepping out onto the patio, she met Patrick’s gaze. “Flowers. Really?”

  “An Irish breeze told me you liked that kind.”

  “They’re all right.” Dorothy handed him the tea. “Here. But don’t think I’ve forgiven you,” she warned.

  “No, ma’am. But would you do me the favor of not bringing more food to my team? The point is to go unnoticed.”

  “Ha. You blew that when your men descended on the house like a team of commandos after I accidentally set off the security alarm.”

  As Dorothy went back into the house she thought she heard a muttered, “And you expect me to believe it was an accident?”

  She smiled wickedly and hurried up to her studio to work on her latest canvas. Setting off the alarm had been accidental, but only because she hadn’t thought of it first.

  * * *

  “I STILL DON’T think you should go,” Connor said to Layne and Matt on Thursday. “Somebody tried to break through the firewall on our computer system last night. They didn’t get in, but they tried damned hard.”

  “We’re going, or at least I am,” Layne told him stubbornly. “I took the day off for this.”

  After more than a week, Connor had finally located Brandi Porter, now using the last name Holden. Layne had called and left a message, then had to wait until the next day before it was returned. Brandi had reluctantly agreed to meet them in Olympia, Washington.

  “I’m going, too,” Matt said.

  “It could be a trap,” Connor declared. “Why did she insist on seeing you face-to-face? You don’t know anything about her. She might be dangerous.”

  Layne made a disgusted sound. “She didn’t have time to talk when she called. Besides, seeing her in person was my idea. I want to show her a copy of the phone message. And we’re meeting at a restaurant in the middle of the afternoon, not a deserted warehouse in the dead of night. What could happen? Especially since I’m sure you’ll have your undercover buddies following us.”

  “They’re security experts, not my buddies. I dislike them all equally.”

  “Yeah, right. We have to go—I don’t want to get caught in traffic. Brandi said four o’clock, on the dot.”

  Layne caught the two men exchanging commiserating glances and slapped Matt’s arm.

  “Do not do the superior male routine,” she warned. “Did it ever occur to you that if you hadn’t gotten involved, the investigation might have stayed lower profile and nobody would be the wiser? Not that you haven’t been a help, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “And you did introduce me to Cherry Garcia,” Layne added grudgingly.

  Matt grinned. “Come on, Tish, it’s time to head for Olympia. Unless you’d rather have another bowl of Ben & Jerry’s before we go?”

  His tone was perfectly proper, but Layne wanted to kill him. He kept calling her Tish in bed, which is where he’d coaxed her into staying most of the morning, staining his silk sheets with Cherry Garcia while waiting for Brandi to return their call. It was reckless and stupid and she was going to regret it once they’d gone their separate ways, but she hadn’t been able to resist.

  “Olympia,” she said, her eyes daring him to say anything else involving ice cream.

  Connor blinked. “Tish?”

  Layne glared. “Don’t ask. It’s a short trip back to the doghouse.”

  The security chief instantly rose to his feet. “I’ll just give my guys a heads-up about your meeting location. They can check it out before you arrive.”

  “Connor—”

  “Discreetly,” he assured as he shut the office door.

  Layne rolled her eyes. “Honestly, does he think someone will put a pipe bomb in the car when we aren’t looking?”

  “Who knows?”

  Matt looked so grim, she shivered.

  They took the private elevator down to his personal parking area. She had gotten her Mustang repaired—somehow Matt had convinced the insurance company to pay for a top restoration specialist—but it was locked up at Aunt Dee’s house for safekeeping. In the meantime she was using the Volvo to go back and forth to work and do other errands.

  “Not the Volvo, we’re taking that one.” He pointed to a silvery gray Mercedes-Benz in the corner.

  “You have two Mercedes-Benzes?”

  “Yeah. I rarely use the sedan and Connor thinks a different car might throw off anyone following us.”

  “Oh.” She dropped into the leather seat. The luxury sedan didn’t fit with Matt’s jeans, casual shirt and baseball cap, but she supposed rich guys didn’t always look as if they’d stepped out of an Armani store.

  They arrived with an hour to spare, so Matt drove around the city before turning into the restaurant parking lot.

  “Do you think she’ll come?” Layne asked. “She sounded nervous.”

  “Everybody is nervous when we ask them about the thefts.”

  They went into the restaurant. It was mostly a steakhouse, but there weren’t any customers. Layne checked her watch, hoping Brandi wouldn’t be scared off because they were early.

  They went into the dimly lit bar and Layne ordered soda water while Matt got a cup of coffee. The bartender looked disgusted until Matt tossed him a twenty and said to keep it. They took a booth in a corner and, precisely at four, a woman approached the table, wearing a uniform with “Brandi” on her nametag.

  “Ms. McGraw?” she said, holding out her hand. “I’m Brandi Holden now. I was divorced two months ago.”

  “Yes, I’m Layne. This is Matt Hollister.”

  “Pleased to meet you.” She slid in next to Layne. “I know I was particular about the time, but my schedule is tight because I work two jobs and go to school.”

  “I just appreciate your seeing me.” Layne opened her purse and pulled out a photocopy of the phone message. “Is this your handwriting?”

  Brandi stared at the message, a mixture of emotions chasing across her face, then nodded. “Yeah. Is it important?”

  “It was taken on one of the days a theft occurred at Hudson & Davidson. I’ve been trying to establish an alibi for my uncle and if you’re sure you wrote the correct date, it might help to show he wasn’t there that night.”

  “I can do more than that. I can’t tell you most of the times Mr. Hudson did or didn’t work late, but I know he didn’t work that night. See, my ex-husband had just beaten me up real bad and Mr. Hudson was trying to help. He was going to visit his brother-in-law and said he’d get me to a women’s shelter in Olympia on the way to Aberdeen.”

  “You’re sure of the date?” Matt asked quickly.

  Brandi swallowed. “You don’t forget something like that—not when you’ve got busted ribs and a split lip and you’re terrified to leave, and just as scared to go home. Mr. Hudson was real worried. He called my cell phone when he got to Aberdeen to see if I was okay and urge me not to change my mind and go back to Darrell.”

  “I’m glad you got away.”

  “Me, too. I liked working for Mr. Hudson, though it wouldn’t have been for much longer since outside agency contracts were going to be terminated. Temp secretaries, IT, janitorial, everything.”

  Layne searched her memory, recalling what Detective Rivera had said about Uncle Will not necessarily having the skills to make money disappear electronically.

  “IT? You’re sure about that one?” she asked.

  Brandi nodded. “According to office chatter, the company wanted to recruit its own IT people. T
he guy from Scullini Computers was there all the time, anyhow, so why not have people in-house?”

  Matt and Layne exchanged a glance.

  “I didn’t have much to do with personnel when I was at the company. Scullini Computers was the IT service provider?” Matt asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Did he work on my uncle’s computer a lot?” Layne said, a hard knot of conviction in her stomach. It wasn’t just what Brandi had said, it was remembering that someone had tried to break into the Eisley security system.

  “He worked on everybody’s computers a lot. Look, I don’t know if my ex-husband is trying to find me, but please don’t tell anyone where I live. It really threw me when you called.”

  “But what if you’re needed to verify Uncle Will wasn’t at the office that particular night?”

  Brandi bit her lip, then squared her thin shoulders. “Mr. Hudson was a decent guy. If I can help, I’ll do it.”

  “We’ll protect you,” Matt promised as he scribbled on one of his business cards and pushed it across the table. “Here are my numbers if you need anything.”

  “Thanks. I have to go now to set the tables for the dinner crowd.” She solemnly shook their hands before hurrying away.

  * * *

  MATT NAVIGATED THE sedan out of Olympia, wishing he could read what was going on in Layne’s head. Finally he sighed.

  “Layne, the D.A. may claim that your uncle could have driven back to his office and still be responsible for the thefts.”

  “I know. That’s why Detective Rivera needs to get records on the call Uncle Will made to Brandi. If Uncle Will made a call from Aberdeen, there should be data showing which towers handled the call, proving he wasn’t anywhere near Hudson & Davidson that evening.”

  “Call Detective Rivera and ask him.”

  But Layne was already dialing the smartphone he’d given her. She put it on speaker, and as soon as the detective answered, began explaining what they’d learned.

  “You say this woman is willing to verify what happened?” the detective asked finally.

  “Yes, and....”

  “Ms. McGraw? Is something wrong?” Rivera prompted at her silence.

  Matt saw Layne staring at the phone with a strange expression on her face.

  “Oh, God,” she said. “Detective Rivera, I just realized...Uncle Will always kept his phone turned on. The GPS data might also be available from the cell phone company, too, or wherever it’s tracked. It could prove he wasn’t at the company when any of the thefts occurred.”

  “Or at least that the phone wasn’t at the office,” the detective said. “I’m convinced, but it will take a court order to get the records and we’re the only ones who want this case reactivated, Ms. McGraw. But I’ll work on it and also check out Scullini Computers. Maybe I can find some leads there.”

  “Good luck.”

  “The same to you.”

  Layne didn’t say anything for a long time after turning off the phone. Matt finally reached over and squeezed her hand. “I have an idea. Let’s find a nice, private country back road and make out for an hour.”

  “I don’t think so. You said you had work to do, and I need to take a check from the Babbitt to Aunt Dee.”

  Matt knew he should respect Layne’s wishes, but it was damned hard. Especially when she had that remote look in her eyes he couldn’t fathom.

  “All right. But are you coming back to my place this evening? I don’t think we should let up on the investigation, which means we still have some phone calls to make.”

  From the corner of his eye he saw Layne’s reluctant expression, but she finally nodded. “Sure.”

  * * *

  LATE THAT NIGHT Matt watched Layne as she slept, unable to sleep himself. Each piece of new information or evidence put them one step closer to solving what had happened to her uncle. And one step closer to knowing if he’d made a mistake while working at Hudson & Davidson.

  The strange thing was, he’d probably blame himself more than Layne or her aunt would. Maybe it was because he was so new to taking responsibility for anything.

  Matt did know he’d probably made a mistake bringing Peter on at the Eisley Foundation. He’d made inquiries about the value of Hudson & Davidson, and it was more than evident Peter was trying to get out of paying Dorothy her fair share. He would have to confront his stepfather about it, the question was where.

  Not in either of their offices.

  He wanted to keep Eisley Foundation business and this unholy mess separated. And it certainly couldn’t be at the Eisley mansion where Peter and his mother lived.

  It would have to be in the penthouse. He could ask Peter to meet him there while Layne was at work.

  As to whether Peter had been involved in the thefts? It was possible, but didn’t seem likely. While a large sum had been embezzled, it was minor compared to Peter’s personal wealth; it wouldn’t make sense for him to steal.

  * * *

  THE NEXT AFTERNOON Peter arrived promptly, but Matt avoided his handshake. It was amazing how he’d gone from liking Peter, to barely being able to stand the sight of him.

  His stepfather looked puzzled. “What’s up, son?”

  A muscle ticked in Matt’s check. He wasn’t Peter’s son, thank God. Spence wasn’t much of a father, but at least there were no surprises with him.

  “I’ve been reviewing the documents you want Dorothy Hudson to sign,” Matt said bluntly. “And no matter how I add things up, she should get a huge chunk of that sale. The sales price is well below the value of the company. You’ll get twice as much from your so-called consultation fees.”

  “Son, I—”

  “Don’t call me that,” Matt snapped, unable to restrain himself. “Don’t ever call me that again. Even Spence Hollister wouldn’t cheat a woman out of her husband’s estate.”

  Peter recoiled. “Perhaps I’ve made mistakes. I’ve felt betrayed and—”

  “You don’t know that William Hudson betrayed you.”

  “But remember the D.A. said it was an airtight case. Then Will killed himself.”

  “Layne has evidence her uncle didn’t commit suicide. He was most likely murdered. And we’re going to prove it.”

  Peter seemed to age before Matt’s eyes. “But...but he must be guilty.”

  “Why?” Matt demanded. “So you can keep justifying how you turned your back on him? Or excuse doing everything possible to keep his wife from receiving what she’s rightfully owed?”

  Peter made a helpless gesture. “I swear I’ll rectify that. Just give me a chance.”

  “You think that’s it?” Matt asked in disbelief. “Sorry, and I promise to fix it? You’ve had months to think about what you were doing. This wasn’t something you did in a blinding moment of hurt and anger. I think you’ve been jealous of William and Dorothy for years because they had what you’d lost when your first wife died.”

  “I’m happy with your mother, Matt. I love her deeply.”

  “But that hasn’t erased those years of envy, has it?”

  His stepfather’s face was so gray and drawn that Matt briefly wondered if he was having a heart attack.

  “I don’t know. It’s possible,” Peter finally admitted. “What do you want me to do?”

  “To start, call the Carrollton D.A.’s office. Tell them you want Detective Rivera put in charge of a new investigation into the thefts and the death of William Hudson.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “And talk to Mrs. Hudson. In person. My God, I’ve read the letter you sent her. You’re lucky not to be in jail for blackmail.”

  His stepfather swallowed painfully. “I...I hadn’t thought of it as blackmail. That wasn’t my intention. I don’t know if I can face her.”

  “Deal with it,” Ma
tt said shortly.

  “Very well.”

  He stared at Peter, wishing he could feel pity for him. Layne was right—everybody made mistakes, but the ones that hurt people were harder to forgive. He wanted to tell his stepfather to resign his position with the Eisley Foundation, but it was better to wait. If nothing else, Peter was a reminder that making decisions out of anger could lead to something even worse.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “THANK YOU, DETECTIVE,” Layne said, giving Matt a thumbs up. “I’ll talk to you again tomorrow.”

  After disconnecting she jumped onto the couch and hugged him. He laughed, though he was still disturbed about his meeting with Peter a few hours earlier.

  “What did Rivera say to put you in such a good mood?”

  “The owner of Scullini Computers lives with a secretary from Hudson & Davidson...Vanna Eastbrook. She was one of the first employees I talked to. And Jay Scullini drives an SUV matching the description of the one that rammed us in the Mustang.”

  “That’s terrific. Not for him, but for us.”

  “Yeah. Rivera also said the D.A.’s office called, offering their full cooperation, so he shouldn’t have any trouble getting a search warrant to see if the SUV has a crunched fender, or one that’s been recently repaired. The paint from my Mustang won’t be difficult to match since it was a custom job.”

  Matt smiled, relieved to hear Peter had kept his promise.

  He pulled Layne closer, hating the flicker of uncertainty he always saw in her eyes when intimacy was involved. Whether they’d meant to or not, her parents and siblings had done a number on her self-esteem. Layne always seemed to be asking why he was with her. And it didn’t help that his conscience was asking the same thing for different reasons.

  Why was he sleeping with Layne when he didn’t want marriage and children, and she did? Where were his principles? What happened to his restraint? For God’s sake, where was his self-preservation?