Death, Taxes, and a Sequined Clutch

by Diane Kelly

  “He’s probably on his way.”

  We enjoyed the exhibits for a few more minutes before spotting Daniel in the doorway. Alicia raised a hand to catch his attention. He lifted his chin in acknowledgment and steered through the crowd toward us.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he said. “One of the partners is filing a high-dollar lawsuit tomorrow and he asked me to look over the petition.” He gave Alicia a kiss on the cheek, which seemed to soften her a bit.

  We headed for the bar and another round of wine. After we received our drinks, I asked Daniel about the lawsuit. Most of the cases he dealt with sounded like pure drudgery—technical antitrust suits, breaches of contract, property disputes. Snooze! But good manners dictated that I feign an interest in his work. A few of the things I learned back at Miss Cecily’s Charm School had stuck with me.

  “It’s a copyright infringement case involving software,” he said. “Our client is a local software company. They’re suing a former employee. He started a company with his brother and our client discovered they’ve been using some of the code he developed while he was still employed with them.”

  Wait a minute. I felt my pulse quicken. Could it be?

  “He started a company with his brother?” I asked. Daniel nodded.

  “Any chance that company is called H2?”

  “That’s the one,” Daniel said.

  So the Hildebrands hadn’t initiated the communications with Gertz, Gertz, and Schwartz. Most likely, the phone call they’d made to the firm had been to return a call from one of the Gertz lawyers.

  I explained about the SEC investigation I’d been helping with all week.

  “Insider trading?” Daniel said. “Wow. These guys could be in some deep shit.”

  I wasn’t sure their expensive slip-on loafers would hold up to the deep shit they could be in. Hell, they might need waders. If Hunter and Tanner Hildebrand had been aware of the potential copyright infringement claim prior to the conclusion of the audit, they had a legal duty to disclose that information to the auditors.

  I needed proof the Hildebrands were aware of the claim before they signed the management representation letter in which they stated they were aware of no potential liabilities. Their cell phone bill would prove they’d placed a call to someone at the Gertz firm prior to the conclusion of the audit, but I needed something more concrete, something that would prove, without question, that they’d known of the infringement claim.

  I explained my dilemma to Daniel. He was more than happy to help, especially once I warned him the bulk of the Hildebrand brothers’ funds had been squirreled away in a Swiss bank account, out of reach of both the IRS and his firm’s client. “They’ve got passport applications pending, too.”

  He jumped on his phone, called the partner, and within seconds received a digital copy of a certified letter that had been sent to Tanner Hildebrand two weeks before the conclusion of the audit. The letter noted that Tanner had ignored numerous warnings from his former employer not to use the misappropriated code, ordered him to cease and desist from further use, and warned that a lawsuit would ensue if H2 sold any software that included the copyrighted code.

  “Did your firm get the return receipt?”

  Daniel nodded and touched his phone’s screen, bringing up an image of the green return receipt card. Sure enough, the card had been signed by Tanner three days after the letter was sent, ten days before the audit ended.

  The documents spoke for themselves. Tweedledee and Tweedledotcom had withheld critical financial information from their auditors. There’d be no playing dumb this time. The management representation letter specifically addressed all claims and, knowing Nathan, he’d performed a thorough oral interview of the client as well.

  Daniel forwarded the files to me. The lawsuit would be public information once it was filed tomorrow, and the proverbial poop would hit the fan.

  Neener-neener.

  Justice would be served. Looked like Tara Holloway might get some satisfaction after all.

  Chapter Nine

  Revenge Is a Dish Best Served Hot

  We rounded one of the partitions and I found myself face-to-face with Nathan. Nathan looked me up and down like I was a sow and he was a judge at the livestock show. Even though I’d been trying to catch his attention, having his eyes on me still felt like a violation. I was tempted to yank my gun from my sequined clutch and put a bullet in his foot. But shooting him now wouldn’t give me the satisfaction of a more prolonged and humiliating revenge.

  Alicia turned my way, looking for a signal. I made a small gesture with my hand, letting her know I had things under control and she could move on. She mouthed “good luck,” and headed off with Daniel.

  A redhead in a ruffled black dress circled around us, casting Nathan a hurt and questioning glance. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say she was one of his most recent victims, her wounds still fresh. Seemed you couldn’t toss an ostrich testicle without hitting a woman Nathan had led on and fornicated with.

  Nathan’s gaze finished traveling over my body and now met mine again. “You look gorgeous, Tara.”

  “Thanks.”

  He looked gorgeous, too, in his classic black tuxedo. But I wasn’t about to tell him that. His ego was big enough already. No sense feeding it further.

  He cocked his head. “Why did I ever let you go?”

  Ooh, that rankled! What he’d said was true, but hearing him admit what he’d done only served to further stoke the fire of vengeance burning within me. I tamped the heat down, storing it for later use, and forced myself to speak slowly and in a beguiling manner. “I don’t know, Nathan. Why did you?” Yeah, why, asshole? Was it because I was nothing more than a conquest to you? Another notch on your belt? An easy-to-impress young woman who was too inexperienced to see you for the oversexed man whore you are?

  He shook his head slowly. “I have no idea. I must’ve been crazy.”

  I would’ve gone with “stupid,” but crazy would suffice.

  “Well, no need to worry about me,” I told him. “I’ve been snatched up.”

  He cocked his head the other direction now. “Hm. He’s a very lucky guy.”

  “I’m the lucky one,” I said, knowing my talk of Brett would only make Nathan more determined to win me back, if only for a repeat performance of our amazing night. He’d consider a woman in a committed relationship to be a tougher conquest, a bigger prize. “Brett is an incredible guy. Smart. Successful.” I leaned toward him and whispered, “Sexy as hell, too.” Brett couldn’t handle my dad’s chili, but that was beside the point, right?

  “Really?” Nathan leaned toward me now, too, and ran a finger along my cheekbone and down my bare neck, a gesture that made me want to rip my sullied skin from my bones. He put his mouth to my ear and whispered, “I bet he’s not as skilled as I am in the sack.”

  It was all I could do not to burst into laughter. Nathan thought he was good in bed? Seriously? He was either an absolute egomaniac or totally delusional. Maybe both.

  “Brett’s technique is amazing,” I said, taking a sip of my wine. “He gives me multiple orgasms. Every time.” Okay, maybe not every time. But often enough to earn a gold star.

  Nathan’s eyes flashed alarm, his manhood threatened.

  Time to throw down the gauntlet. “You didn’t give me single one.”

  He frowned, his brows drawn together in suspicion. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Oh, Nathan.” I shook my head and gave him a look of pity. “I wish I were.”

  For a short time he remained quiet, sipping his Crown Royal, watching me all the while. While his expression was passive, I could tell by the clench in his jaw and the throbbing vein in his neck that my words had gotten to him. He tossed back the last of his drink and placed his glass on the tray of a passing waiter. “I owe you, then. Let me pay up.”

  I sipped my wine, eyeing him over the rim of the glass, pretending to be thinking things over when I knew good and well that I’d pretend to ta
ke him up on his offer. “When are you suggesting to make this payment?”

  He slid me a sly, sexy smile. “No time like the present.”

  “Now?” I looked away. “I don’t know, Nathan. I shouldn’t do it. It wouldn’t be right.” The more I protested, the more he’d want me. That’s the kind of ass he was.

  He put a finger on my chin and turned my face back to his. “He never needs to know.”

  How I would’ve loved to knee the guy in the nards right then. But I had to continue playing my part. “I’ll have to think about it.”

  “Don’t think,” he said. “Follow your desires.”

  His sappy drivel nearly made me puke. Besides, if I followed my desires, I’d end up at Brett’s place. Or Nick’s. Aw, hell. I didn’t know where I’d end up. Probably in the loony bin.

  Before I could respond, he grabbed my hand and pulled me after him. Looked like we weren’t going to follow my desires, but instead his boner, which was pointing the way out the door like a divining rod. After the valet brought his car around, Nathan handed him a tip and we climbed inside.

  “Your place or mine?” he asked.

  As if I’d bring a potentially disease-infested guy into my bed. “Neither,” I said, tilting my head and giving him my best bedroom eyes. “I’m in the mood for something kinky. Let’s go back to your office.”

  A lecherous grin spread across his lips. “I like the way you think, Tara.”

  If he only knew.

  We drove the few blocks to the bank building, parked in the underground garage, and rode the elevator up to the twenty-ninth floor. At this time of night, Martin and McGee’s foyer was lit only by a single recessed bulb in the center of the ceiling, and the corners were cast in shadows. The glass doors that led from the foyer to the offices were locked, but Nathan had a key fob that unlocked them. He quickly yanked the doors open and took my hand again, pulling me down the dimly lit hallway at a virtual run. Sheez. The guy acted like a high school boy about to get lucky for the first time.

  He unlocked the door to his office and we stepped inside. The room was almost entirely dark. The only light came through the window blinds from nearby skyscrapers—the green glow of the argon lights that outlined the Bank of America Plaza, the red lights from the landmark Pegasus atop the Magnolia Hotel, the white gold lights atop Reunion Tower. I could see a few lit offices in nearby buildings, the people inside easily visible against the dark backdrop of night. A large crew was working late one floor up in the building directly across the street. At least a dozen people milled about the space.

  Nathan closed the door behind him and stepped to the window to close the mini-blinds.

  “Wait,” I said, putting out a hand to stop him. “I want to look out at the city lights while we do this. It’s not every day a girl’s lucky enough to make love to a partner with a window.” Sheesh, I was laying it on thick. Could he really not see through my bullshit?

  He yanked the cord, causing the blinds to gather in a single horizontal line across the top of the plate glass window. He turned to me then, coming at me with outstretched hands.

  I held my sequined clutch to his chest to stop him. With the other hand, I pointed to his cushy, high-backed desk chair. “Sit.”

  He grinned again as he took a seat. “I like your new style. You’ve become a take-charge woman.”

  If he only knew. I almost felt sorry for the guy.

  Almost.

  But not quite.

  I laid my clutch on his desk and turned to him. “I’ll take charge, all right. You just leave everything up to me.” Leaning over him, I gave him a sexy smile as I worked his arms out of his tuxedo jacket and untied his bow tie, tossing both onto one of the chairs that faced his desk. I turned to him again, slowly unbuttoning and removing his tuxedo shirt. It joined his jacket and bow tie on the chair. I now reached for his waist, pulling off his cummerbund and sliding my hands up under his white T-shirt, running my hands over his chest. I felt his nipples harden under my touch and ran my thumbnails over them. Too bad I couldn’t yank them off.

  “Oh, Tara,” he said on an exhale before emitting a growl-like sound that was probably supposed to be sexy but had me thinking Frosted Flakes and Tony the Tiger.

  I removed his undershirt and tossed it aside.

  He looked up at me, his eyes hooded with need. “You want me bad, don’t you? You want to give it to me good. You’re a naughty, naughty girl.”

  Dirty talk? Really? No, thanks. Not from Nathan, anyway. But he wasn’t wrong. I was a naughty girl. Just not in the way he thought.

  “Oh, yeah.” I let a purr slip into my voice. “I want to give it to you good. You’re a bad boy and I’m going to give you just what you deserve.” It was the truth. He couldn’t say he hadn’t been warned.

  I turned to the desk and opened my sequined clutch, removing my handcuffs. I dangled them in front of his face. “I’m a naughty, naughty girl. And I’m going to do naughty, naughty things to you.”

  I gave him another sultry smile as I clicked one end of the cuffs onto his left wrist, fastening the other cuff around the arm of his chair. I knelt down and pulled off his shiny patent leather shoes, then reached for his waistband again, unzipping his pants and easing them off. In seconds, he was stripped down to a pair of black bikini briefs cut high on the sides. I bet he bought that particular style of underwear because he thought they’d make his you-know-what look longer.

  I shifted to a crouch between his knees.

  He looked down at me. “Oh, God, Tara!” He threw his head back in anticipation. “Oh, God!”

  Idiot. I wasn’t about to give him pleasure. I was about to give him his just deserts.

  I stood and backed away from him, grabbing my clutch and the pile of his clothing. I stopped in his doorway and flipped the switch, bathing the room in instant brilliance.

  “It’s been fun, Nathan,” I said, “but I’ve got to run.”

  His eyes flew open, fluttering against the harsh overhead light. When he spotted me in the doorway, he leapt from the chair, only to be yanked backwards by the cuffs. His eyes went wild. “What? What is this? What are you doing?”

  “Evening the score,” I said, my sultry smile now an evil grin. “For myself and for all the other young girls you’ve taken advantage of.”

  He looked ridiculous, sitting there in the brightly lit office in that skimpy pair of underwear. He bucked and managed to stand, the cuffs yanking his chair off its rollers until it lay cockeyed behind him. “You can’t do this!” he shouted. “This is against the law! I’ll call your boss at the IRS and you’ll be canned!”

  I shook my head. “I’m off duty,” I told him. “And those cuffs are from my personal collection.” I hoped that sounded plausible. In actuality, I could be in some pretty deep doo-doo for this. Not up to my neck like the Hildebrand twins, but perhaps ankle deep. “Besides,” I added, “this is what you wanted. Something kinky, right?” I laughed before offering him a glare. “If you report me, I’ll round up all the women at Martin and McGee who you’ve slept with to testify in my defense. Who do you think would get canned then?”

  His face clouded over.

  Through the window behind him, I saw a crowd gather at the windows of the office across the way. Several people were pointing down at Nathan’s window and gesturing for their coworkers to come take a look at the naked guy across the street. I raised a hand and gave them a wave. Nathan turned to see whom I was waving to and shrieked, cupping his hands over his crotch to hide it from view.

  “Later, gator.” I backed out of the office with his clothes.

  Nathan tried to come after me, the chair banging around as it collided first with his desk and then the wall. He tripped over his pole lamp, and both he and the lamp crashed to the floor. On his hands and knees now, his chair lying sideways across his back, he looked up at me.

  The expression on his face was so pitiful that once again I almost felt sorry for him.

  Again, almost.

  Aga
in, not quite.

  He lifted his shoulder to shift the chair off his back and struggled to his feet. He managed to make it into the doorway, but the chair wouldn’t fit through. He yanked, and yanked, and yanked his wrist, causing the oversized chair to bang, bang, bang against the doorframe. “Shit!”

  Though I couldn’t hear their guffaws, it was clear the people across the street were laughing now, their mouths open, their shoulders shaking.

  I turned and continued down the hall, tossing Nathan’s clothing aside, piece by piece, like some type of warped flower girl. At the end of the hall, I glanced back to see him still trying to wrangle the chair through his doorway. “By the way,” I called down the hall. “The Hildebrand brothers will be in handcuffs, too, tomorrow.”

  He stopped struggling. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve got evidence they received a letter from an attorney who represents Tanner’s former employer. The company says H2 wrongfully used code Tanner wrote while he was still employed there.”

  “Copyright infringement?” Nathan looked totally taken aback. “Are you serious?”

  “Yep. The attorney is filing suit tomorrow.” I dropped the last article of clothing, his bow tie, to the floor at my feet. “Tanner signed for the letter ten days before the audit was completed.”

  Nathan’s eyes grew wide. “Those fuckers!” he cried. “Those damn freaky fuckers! They lied to me!”

  I tilted my head and gave him a meaningful smile. “It hurts to be taken advantage of, doesn’t it?”

  Chapter Ten

  Rain Delay

  On my back through Martin and McGee’s foyer, I passed the three-woman cleaning crew on their way in. Nathan was still shouting and carrying on two hallways away, demanding I return to free him. We could hear him all the way to the reception area.

  I gave the custodians my handcuff key. Though my Spanish was as limited as their English, I finally managed to communicate through a few words and pantomime that they’d find an hombre cuffed to a silla in an oficina and that said hombre would be sin pantalones. They giggled and nodded knowingly. Apparently Nathan wouldn’t be the first naked man they’d had to spring from handcuffs.