30DaystoSyn

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  Or one of them killed the other, he thought as he heaved himself out of his chair.

  He looked down at the computer screen embedded in the top of his desk. There was a program that kept track of how many people were in the building at any given time and exactly where they were. It was something his security chief had helped design and soon they would be marketing the prototype to offices across the globe. According to the stats on the program, there were nineteen people—including him—left. Only three remained on the top floor and he knew two of them were him and Spike. He wondered who the third was but wasn’t curious enough to check.

  Grabbing his suit coat from the hall tree beside the door, he crooked his finger in the collar and slung it over his shoulder. He hated playing dress up—and that was exactly how he saw it—so the first thing he did each morning as soon as he could was shuck the coat, loosen his tie, and roll up his shirtsleeves. Unless he was seeing clients or representatives from China he didn’t care what people thought of his attire while he was working.

  Frankly, he didn’t care what anyone thought. Period.

  He realized he was tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for the elevator to come back up from the parking level. He was anxious to get on his bike and open the throttle. When the elevator door opened and he saw the new head of PR standing inside the cage, he frowned.

  “Forget something?” he asked, stepping aside to allow her out.

  She took a step to the side. “I’m not getting out. I’m going down,” she said and her eyes fell to zero in on his crotch.

  Irritation prodded him. He looked down at his watch. It was six-thirty and he should have been home long before now. “Didn’t you just ride the elevator down?” he asked. He entered the elevator even though a warning bell went off inside his head.

  “Yes,” she said. She ran her tongue over her upper lip. “I was waiting for you.”

  He moved well away from her. “For what?” he snapped. “I told you if you had questions to go to my assistant.” The door closed.

  “She can’t help me with the assistance I need,” she said, her voice low and sultry. “She isn’t equipped for it.” Once more her eyes went to his crotch.

  He opened his mouth to warn her about the insinuation but she was on him before he could. Her hand went between his legs and she pressed her tall body tightly to his, pinning him to the wall. He was so stunned by what she was doing—rubbing him vigorously through his slacks and trying to put her lips on his—for a moment he didn’t react. When he did, it was with a brutal growl that bared his teeth.

  “Get the fuck off me, slut!” he snarled, shoving her away.

  She stumbled back, colliding with the far wall. Her expression filled with fury and she came at him with her fingers curled into claws.

  The cramps had settled down somewhat to a more endurable level. At least she could walk across the floor without grunting. She washed her hair as she showered, shaved her legs, and stood before the mirror wrapped in a towel as she plucked her eyebrows. She was making more of an effort than she had before when preparing to meet with him.

  “Stop referring to him that way,” she said to the mirror. “He has a name. Use it!”

  Trouble was he hadn’t given her permission to. Each time she said his name, he stiffened although he didn’t seem to mind her calling him Kiwi. Jonny and Craigie called him Synnie. She wondered if he’d get annoyed with her if she tried that nickname. Most likely he would. It was best if she stuck to Kiwi. That he didn’t seem to mind.

  She looked down at her wristwatch and realized she was running late. She needed to get a move on if she was going to apply makeup. Her hair was wet and would be for a while yet but by the time he came to pick her up, it would be dry enough. He liked it hanging loose around her shoulders anyway.

  Fifteen minutes later, she was pacing the floor in the living, going to the front door now and again looking for headlights pulling into her drive. Fifteen minutes after that and she was biting her cuticles, worrying that he had changed his mind. After an hour passed without any sign of him, she went into the kitchen to call the emergency number Jono had given her. Just as she picked up the receiver, the sweep of headlights flashed across the glass of the storm door.

  “About time, Kiwi,” she mumbled. She snatched her purse from the table in the little foyer, grabbed her coat from the closet and opened the door.

  But it wasn’t him standing there. It was Jono and the look on his face said all was not well in his world.

  “What’s happened?” she asked, fear making her insides turn to sludge.

  “He’s been arrested,” Jono said.

  “Arrested? For what?”

  “Attempted rape.”

  She felt the blood drain from her face. “What?” she whispered. “Who?”

  “A woman at his office,” Jono said. “She called 9-1-1 after she says she pushed him down the stairs in front of the office to get away from him.”

  “Pushed him down…” Her hand was trembling as she put it to her mouth. “Is he all right?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered. “I haven’t been allowed to see him. His one phone call went to his lawyer Jake and Synnie asked Jake to call me.” He looked at her sadly. “He wanted me to come tell you in person before you heard it on the news.”

  “Oh my God,” she said, slumping against the doorjamb.

  “He wouldn’t do something like this, Lina,” he told her. “Not Synnie. Of all people not him. I don’t know who the hell this woman is or why she’s lying but there is no doubt in my mind she is.”

  “Where is she now?” she asked as anger began to override her shock at the news.

  “They took her to the hospital. According to Jake she’s pretty banged up. She says Synnie tried to force himself on her in the elevator and she fought back. Supposedly he hit her repeatedly, tore her clothing, and broke her nose…”

  “He wouldn’t do that!” she protested.

  “Of course not but it’s her word against his.” He grimaced. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he said.

  “I have to go to him,” she said. She tried to push past him but he reached out to stop her.

  “They won’t let you see him,” he told her. “At least not tonight. When I spoke to Jake he’d been booked but he hadn’t been arraigned yet.”

  “What about bail?” she asked. “Lord, Jonny, I know nothing about this sort of thing?”

  “They will set bail at his arraignment,” Jono told her. “That’s when he’ll be formally charged and asked to enter a plea. If he pleads not guilty—which I know he will—he’ll go to trial. The trial date will be set later. Until then—if bail is set—he’ll be released on his own recognizance until the trial.”

  “And if he pleads guilty?”

  “He won’t.”

  “If he pleads guilty?” she persisted.

  “Then he’ll give up his right to a trial and be sentenced.”

  “For how long?”

  “Lina—”

  “How long, Jonny?”

  He exhaled loudly. “It depends. This isn’t his first scrape with the law,” he said.

  She stared at him. “What did he do?”

  Jon shook his head. “It’s not for me to tell you. I just thought you should know. When they find out he has a record in New Zealand, things could get complicated. They are pretty tough on rapists here in Georgia. Since there was assault and battery involved, they might give him a life sentence.”

  She staggered and he shot out a hand to steady her.

  “This can’t be happening,” she said, shaking her head. “It can’t.”

  “You have to be positive, little beaut,” he said. “Think the best. We’re going to fight this. There’s no way we’ll let him go to prison for something we know damn well he didn’t do.”

  He’d forgotten how dehumanizing jail could be.

  And how terrifying.

  The first time he’d been handcuffed and mauled by the police,
he’d been a scared but defiant seventeen-year-old boy with a chip a mile wide riding his slender shoulders. He fought them, cursed them and had his ass handed to him along with bruises, scrapes and a broken finger. He thought he’d learned his lesson about fighting cops.

  He was wrong. He’d fought them tonight and…

  Had his ass handed to him.

  Despite years of martial-arts training and adding on muscle and bulk, he was no match for two determined cops with a Taser who looked at him as though he were pond scum.

  The same way the Auckland coppers had looked at him.

  But for a different reason.

  Sitting on the cot with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, he was just as frightened and felt just as helpless as he had at seventeen. The major dissimilarity this time was he had people who would fight for him, try to protect him, and who would have his back even if it was against the wall.

  “Pretty boy like you’s gonna be real popular in prison.”

  He looked up. The beefy guard standing at the cell door with his thumbs hooked in his belt was grinning at him. When he didn’t reply, the grin slowly dissolved to be replaced with a smirk.

  “‘Course you could avoid prison altogether.”

  He knew a shakedown when he was thrown one. “How much?” he asked.

  The guard’s grin returned. “They said one million for all charges to be dropped.”

  There was no way he could stop the laugh.

  “You think this is funny, asshole?” the guard demanded.

  “You have no idea how funny,” he replied.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Night Twelve

  Jacob Tonika had every reason in the world to be grateful to him and never failed to show it. Jake was Craigie’s cousin and he’d had his way through law school paid for entirely by McGregor Industries. No matter what he was doing at the time, if he was needed, he was there.

  “One million dollars,” Jake said. “Justice doesn’t come cheap, does it?”

  “I have no intention of paying that bitch one red cent,” he told Jake.

  “We need to get her on tape making the offer, then,” Jake said. “How you gonna do that, bro?”

  “I thought about it all last night and I think I know a way,” he said with a merciless grin.

  “Anything,” she stated. “Whatever you need.”

  “All right, let’s get started,” Jono said, glancing at Craig then Jono.

  The four of them were sitting in an internet café in the next town over. Each had come to the café from different directions on the off-chance one of them was being followed. For a million-dollar payday, Tatyana Sakova and whoever was in league with her might do anything.

  Then there was the paparazzi who were having a field day trying to get interviews from anyone at MI.

  “Here’s the thing,” Jono said. “Kit Tomlinson is MI’s chief of security, okay? The camera in the elevator that night had been disabled, likewise the cameras in the lobby and the one outside the main entrance. The guard who should have been monitoring those cameras and was responsible for building security has mysteriously vanished.”

  “So we have no proof to back up Synnie’s statement that the bitch attacked him,” Craig said with disgust.

  “Not true,” Jono said. He gave her a toothy grin. “Sweet thang here went over to the MI office complex and did some looking around.”

  “I needed to do something since I couldn’t see him.”

  Jake frowned. “He didn’t want her involved. He’s gonna blow a gasket when he finds out we’ve brought her in on this and not Spike.”

  “Good thing she is ‘cause she found out the building across the street—the one that directly faces the MI entrance—had security cameras that were up and running. Guess what Kit found out when he went over to talk to their security chief?”

  “Tell me their camera was working and clicking away,” Craig said.

  “It was, mate,” Jono said, “and we have a great shot of Synnie inside the MI lobby trying to fend off Sakova. There’s also a really clear shot of him coming out of the building, knocking her hands away from him only seconds before she shoved his ass down the stairs.”

  “And still another of her standing at the top of the stairs with her hands on her hips as she stares down at him—making no attempt whatsoever to run.” she added.

  “But here’s the kicker,” Jono said. “The bitch and whoever is working with her ain’t all that bright. Remember how I told you she says she called 9-1-1 to report the attack?”

  “Yeah,” Craig said, brow furrowed.

  “Well it was a man who made the call, not Sakova. Stupid Ukrainian cunt—” He stopped and looked at her. “Sorry, little beaut.”

  “Apology not needed,” she said. “Go on.”

  “We got a copy of the 9-1-1 call,” Jake said. “The voice on the other end had a thick accent. My guess is Ukrainian.”

  “So a man reports the so-called sexual assault,” she said. “Aren’t the police suspicious about that?”

  “They are a dense lot,” Jake said. “But to answer your question, not really. They’re saying it was most likely a concerned citizen who didn’t want to get involved.”

  “Did the call come from inside the building or from a cell phone outside the main entrance?”

  “Smart girl!” Jono said. “It came from a mobile, all right, but when Kit had his source triangulate the call, he found out it came from across town. Whoever made the call couldn’t have seen what happened in front of MI.”

  “True,” Jake agreed. “It opens up reasonable doubt as does the video of what happened in the lobby as well as outside MI’s entrance.”

  “Reasonable doubt is good but you need that guard on tape saying he was sent to offer the Kiwi a deal,” she said. “His freedom for a million dollars.”

  “That guard has gone the way of the security guard,” Jono said. “They’re probably vacationing together.”

  “So where do I come in?” she asked. “What do you need me to do?”

  “He wants her prosecuted for extortion,” Jake said, “so we need to get her on tape admitting she set him up.”

  “That’s where you come in, Melina,” Jono said.

  “Just tell me what you have in mind, Jonny,” she said.

  “All right, here’s the deal,” he said. “We can’t take a chance of sending anyone from MI to meet this woman. Spike would have done it in a heartbeat but this Tatyana bitch knows her. Synnie didn’t think about that when he came up with the plan. We need someone the bitch doesn’t know, has never seen.” He leaned across the table toward her and lowered his voice. “What we want you to do is go to her, tell her that you used to work at MI and that you got fired for coming on to Synnie. Tell her for—oh, let’s say ten grand—you’ll go to the cops and testify that he raped you a couple of years ago but you never reported it because you were afraid of him. Tell her you hate his guts and you want to get even with him.”

  “Really sell it,” Jake said. “Can you do that?”

  “For him?” she asked. “Yes, I can do it. Just tell me where she is and I’m there.”

  “Kit will need to wire you up,” Jono said.

  “What if she’s not alone?” she asked. “What if the man from the 9-1-1 call is with her? Don’t you think he’ll check me for a wire?”

  “Good point. I know I would,” Craig said, playing devil’s advocate.

  She looked around them then back at Jake. “What if I meet her somewhere public? Like a restaurant.”

  “Wouldn’t they still frisk you?” Craig asked then blushed when Jono rolled his eyes. “Well, they could!”

  “We could put a bug under the table,” she said. “I’d be there ahead of them and sit at that table. The bug would be out of sight but you guys would be in the back listening. The place I’m thinking about has cameras so that’s an added bonus.”

  “Where are you talking about?” Craig inquired.

  “Drecker’s,”
she said.

  “I told you I didn’t want her involved!” he snarled through the phone. If he could have reached through the glass partition between them he would have wrapped his fingers around Jono’s neck.

  “She’s our best chance, bro,” Jono said. “We don’t have time to go looking for a PI to play the part and think about it. You’re a fucking rich man, Synnie. The more people involved, people who know about this, and you leave yourself open to another round of extortion. Lina loves you and—”

  “What?” he asked, his hand tightening on the receiver.

  “Don’t act like you don’t know,” Jono snapped. “Would she be willing to risk her…?” He stopped, his eyes wide.

  “Go on,” he insisted. “Say it! Risk her life to do this!” He shook his head. “No, Jono. No! You are not to let her—”

  “It’s your only shot, bro,” Jono told him.

  “Then I’ll take my chances with a trial,” he said.

  “Isn’t it bad enough the judge denied bail because she thought you were a flight risk?” Jono threw at him.

  “My fucking luck I got a female judge who hates men,” he grumbled. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t want Lina caught up in this.”

  “You wanna chance sitting your bloody reamed ass in jail for the rest of your life?” Jono asked.

  “I want my woman kept safe!” he shouted.

  “You want everyone in here to know something is being planned?” Jono growled into the phone. “Lower your fucking voice, bro!”

  “Keep her out of this, Jono,” he insisted. “I mean it!”

  That said, he slammed the phone into the cradle on the wall and shot to his feet. Jono was staring up at him with his face tight with anger. He turned his back on his friend.

  “Take me back to my cell,” he told the guard.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  His warm palm cupped her breast. His thumb eased over the hard little peak and she writhed beside him. He was kissing her neck—his teeth grazing over the sensitive flesh—and his right leg was over hers to pin her to the sand.