by Gillian Zane
Drake’s hand landed on my shoulder. My steps slowed.
“Why are you running, what the hell happened?” I had turned around, or rather he turned me around. We were face to face now. He was looking down at me and there was concern behind those eyes. I was used to seeing suspicion. With the hardness gone, I was breathless. I didn’t want to see concern about my welfare there. I couldn’t. Not from him.
“I can’t right now, Drake,” I whispered. His finger traced a line on my forehead and when he examined it, there was blood. I must have missed a spot, which was impossible. I had manifested myself clean and healed. The blood on his finger shouldn’t be there.
“Cassidy, tell me what's going on,” he demanded. The use of my name had a weird effect on me. It calmed me. “Are you hurt?” He looked at me closely, but found nothing. I was fine, all healed and put together. On the outside.
“I can’t,” I repeated.
“Please,” he implored and took me by the shoulders and held on tight. Those soft eyes, now a caramel color in the light of day, gazed at me with concern. I didn’t need someone to give a damn. I needed to be tough right now. Cold Cassie. He ran his thumb across my cheek. It came back wet. Not from blood. I was crying. Shit. I was crying.
His arms wrapped around me and my face buried itself in his broad chest. My nose filled with fresh mint and oranges. My body shook as the crying couldn’t be halted. I didn’t cry because of what happened with Phillip. I cried because I was murdered. I cried because I was forced to do some shitty job for the rest of my Afterlife that was going to get me raped, and make me sacrifice my morals, instead of getting some kind of rest and relaxation like they promised in church. I cried because life was unfair and death was even more unfair. I cried because none of it really mattered and that was the worst thing about all of this. Nothing mattered. Except maybe…karma.
His lips gently feathered over my forehead, right where I had hit the coffee table. They seared my skin and urged me to lift my face. Just a little bit. Just enough to let him wash away what Phillip had done. Enough so that my lips would know passion and not assault. Because there was one thing I knew intrinsically – Drake would be a damn good kisser. I lifted my eyes to his and I saw his eyes trail to my lips. Please. Anything. Just make it go away.
“What the ever living fuck?” My head popped up from Drake’s chest and I wiped at my eyes self-consciously. Lauren stood on the walkway staring at us. I had never seen hatred on her face before. She didn’t look like Lauren.
“Don’t you get around, new girl?” She said new girl like it was an insult. She rolled her eyes at Drake, like he was an idiot caught in my web.
“Did you need something, Lauren?” Drake asked, not a hint of the softness he had shown me in his tone.
“Just grabbing a smoke. I thought you left, Drake.” She lit her cigarette and took a deep drag.
“I gotta go,” I said, pulling out of his grasp. He went to say something, to stop me, but I shook my head emphatically and took a few more steps back. When he nodded his head in understanding, I turned on my heels and power walked my way as fast as I could out of there.
“Didn’t mean to break up your little party,” I heard Lauren say before I rounded the corner. Drake said something in response, but I couldn’t make it out. As soon as I was out of their line-of-sight, I began to run.
Chapter 11
Karma Delivered
I made it back to my house uneventfully, which was a relief since I was quite tired of shit not going my way. I kicked off my shoes and went straight to my wall computer, tapping it until it sprang to life. Miriam wanted me to email the documents directly to her. She wanted to find the proof of Phillip's deceit. I had other plans though.
I changed into my comfy PJs, pulled up a chair and began to dig. I pulled up one file after another. I scanned them, opening everything he had on the drive I copied. I sorted through every file, keeping the ones that had financial information in the forefront. Phillip had kept careful records. Records that would get him thrown in prison.
These were the real books and they were damning. When you looked closely it all fell into a very ingenious pattern. There was a payee titled RPI Consulting that was making a lot of money from his clients. But in Phillip’s files there was no information on RPI Consulting. No contact, no record of any phone calls, not even an address. The only thing RPI did for Phillip was take money. It sent up a big red flag.
I called up a search on RPI. It was registered under a P.O. Box, with an internet based phone number attached to the files. I brought up the incorporation documents. The officers were a Jasmine Burg, Katherine Clint and Phoebe Clint. Searches on those names revealed them to be Phillip’s mother and sister, and the sister’s daughter who was only two years old. RPI was supposed to be doing technology impact surveys, along with brand analysis and keyword research.
Phillip’s mother was a nurse, his sister was a stay at home mom. There wasn’t an ounce of marketing knowledge between the two of them from what I could tell. They were only collecting a check. He was funneling thousands of dollars from each of his clients to this fake business. The totals were staggering. From this year alone he had paid RPI almost two million dollars.
The damning evidence was when I looked up IRS paperwork from RPI and found Phillip listed as the sole manager, with a very lucrative salary. His mother and sister probably had no clue he was using their names and social security numbers. He was cashing each check himself. The rest of the money was being used as expenses for the business.
His IRS filings read like a playboy’s dream. Expensed business trips to the Caribbean, a company car, an apartment in the city. All filed as deductions. I dug deeper and requested copies of all the checks to RPI, along with filed receipts and expenditures. They were endorsed by Phillip. Anyone with half a brain could figure out what Phillip had been up to. He was a total shark gambling in a very high stakes game of embezzlement.
I threw everything in a folder and compressed it. I had the computer create an untraceable email account and included the document with a nice little teaser to prompt everyone to open the file without being suspicious. Then I sent it to the CEO, the CFO, Miriam and every board member. I even sent it to Phillip. I thought that might be enough, but then I grabbed Phillip’s contact list and copied them all on the email.
I hit send.
Karma delivered.
Chapter 12
Karma is a Bitch
There were men with suits milling about on the street outside of the building when I walked into work the next morning. There were even more in the front lobby. It seemed like the entire office was in the lobby milling about, talking to each other in whispered tones. Some of the men in suits were talking with clusters of people. They all looked confused and a little scared.
I played it cool, sticking to the side and looking like I had no clue. I grabbed one of the other assistants and asked her what was going on. She shrugged and shook her head.
“The FBI is here. They shut down the office, they won’t let anyone upstairs,” she said with wide eyes. I nodded, pretending to be just as confused and innocent as the rest of the worker bees.
The front door opened, sending in a flash of sunlight from outside and I looked over expecting it to be more police. Broad shoulders and a confident walk had me chewing on my lip and not knowing whether to run toward him or away from him.
He clutched two fancy coffee cups in his hand and he strode directly for me as if he had known exactly where I was.
“Why haven’t you returned any of my calls?” he asked. He stood before me, that concern coloring his eyes again. He held out one of the coffees. I took the warm cup into my hand, liking how the cardboard felt against my palm. I took a sip and didn’t answer him. When he opened his mouth to speak again, I made a hush gesture with my hand and looked around the lobby worriedly. Everyone was busy, caught up in the drama.
“Why?” he repeated, not abiding by my hushing.
“Honestly, Drake, I was so b
usy last night I didn’t even hear my phone.” As if to emphasize this I withdrew my phone from my purse and peered down at it. Five missed calls. I held it up so he could see it.
“I was worried.”
“I was fine.” I took a sip of the coffee and moaned when the chocolaty goodness flowed over my tongue. Perfect. Too sweet coffee.
“I can see that.” He took in my uber-professional pant suit and perfectly styled up-do. There wasn’t even a hint of a scratch on my face.
“Why did you come here?”
“I wanted to check on you, and tell you what I wanted to tell you yesterday. I wasn’t hanging around the lobby for my own personal enjoyment.”
“I thought you were hanging around here for Lauren,” I said without a hint of jealousy in my voice. Okay, maybe a little.
“I needed to question her about Cassandra, which is what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Look,” I held up my hand to stop him, “I told you, I’m done. Leave me out of this.”
“You aren’t done, I know you aren’t.”
“I just can’t, Drake.” I looked at him pleadingly. With his new soft eyes would he see that I couldn’t take this? I was done searching for my other life. I would find out in time, or I wouldn’t. Everything seemed to happen for a reason, why fight it?
“So, you don’t care what happened to Cassandra? You’re done with her too?”
“Of course I care, but what else is there? If the cops can’t find anything, how can you?”
“I told you, I have my ways.”
“Yeah, you’re a bully,” I grumbled, but didn’t really mean it.
“I found out more information. Did you know she was dating someone?”
“Yeah, Pete.” I had really liked Pete. Loved him as a friend and had hoped it would become more. Drake looked at me skeptically, his brows drawn together.
“She was keeping that a secret, she hadn’t old anyone,” he said, a hint of suspicion in his tone again.
“She told me. And I think she might have told Lauren.” I remembered telling Lauren. It hadn’t gone over well.
“Are you sure she told Lauren?” he asked me.
“Yeah, she told me she did. Said Lauren was upset about it. I think she didn’t want to mess up the friendships between the three of them.” I couldn’t remember the details of the fight, but I remembered Lauren being upset. It had made me consider putting a halt to my relationship with Pete. Maybe a little pause until Lauren came around.
“He disappeared about a week after Cassandra disappeared.”
“He… wait, what?”
“Gone, vanished just like her. The police think the cases are linked. They found a gun in his apartment. It wasn’t registered and had been fired recently. It had his fingerprints all over it. Some of his clothes and a suitcase were missing.”
“They think Pete did it? That’s impossible, he was so…” I trailed off. What was Pete? Did I remember him? He was funny. He was charming. He was an attentive lover, but not that creative.
“Squeaky clean. Yeah, he was. Up until Cassandra disappeared,” Drake finished for me.
There was a commotion at the elevators. Drake and I turned as one, our conversation temporarily forgotten. Three men in suits exited the elevator with a harried looking Phillip between them. He wasn’t handcuffed, but it was obvious he wasn’t going willingly. The whispering began the moment he stepped into the lobby.
His eyes landed on me and they narrowed in hatred.
“You did this!” he hollered and all eyes turned to me. He broke away from the men in suits and charged me. His actions startled me. I couldn’t move. I watched as if I was a third party witness as he ran full tilt toward me.
“Bitch!” he screamed as he lunged for me. We impacted. He let out a painful oomph and my head hit the floor. He got in one good punch to my ribcage before they pulled him off me. The cops were punching and hitting him, one had his weapon drawn. I lay there blinking.
I tried with all my might to keep the smile off my face. Add assault and resisting arrest to his charges.
People were screaming. The men in suits had Phillip thrown on the floor and now they decided it was a good idea to cuff him. One was reciting the Miranda warning.
Drake pulled me to my feet. The pain from the back of my head faded as I concentrated on healing it. I seemed to be destined for traumatic brain injury. The healing left me a little dizzy and when Drake let me go I teetered unsteadily on my feet. He scooped me up into his arms and carried me to one of the sofas in the lobby.
“You sure know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Drake,” I murmured into his chest. I felt comfortable in his arms and I didn’t like it. I didn’t know anything about this man.
“There’s something about you, Cassidy, that has my white knight complex kicking in. Why they hell are you always at the center of the shit?”
“Don’t know. My fate, I guess,” I said with a smile. My head was slowly clearing.
I heard the clacking of heels. I looked up to see Miriam rushing over to us. She kneeled down next to me, a worried look on her face.
“I didn’t know you were down here, Cassidy. I’m sorry. I would have warned you they were bringing him through. You were, of course, who he assumed did this. After yesterday.” She looked at Drake and frowned, asking me with her eyes if he was okay and I shook my head slightly, hopefully imperceptibly from Drake’s notice.
“Yes, right. I’m so sorry about this. You should probably get medical attention. Take the rest of the day off. We definitely want you back though, Cassidy. Don’t let this disastrous event chase you away from our company. In fact, I have another position— now that Phillip won’t be needing an Executive Assistant. Come see me first thing tomorrow morning.” She patted me on the head like a child.
“Do you have someone to take you home?” she asked.
“I’m fine, I’ll—“
“I’ll take her,” Drake said.
“No, I can handle myself,” I argued.
“Really, Cassidy, you’ve been through a traumatic event, if you know this gentleman, I would let him assist you,” Miriam said.
“She’s a smart lady,” Drake said and pulled me to my feet. “C’mon, let me get you home.”
He led me out of the lobby, past the watchful eyes of the coworkers I didn’t know and never would. My case was over with. Time to move on. I had been an Executive Assistant for two weeks and had gotten my boss arrested and most likely fired. I think I did a bang up job. Another case for the books.
Drake’s black sports car was waiting like a beast at the curb. He opened the door for me and helped me in like I was an invalid, then rushed to the other side to slide behind the wheel.
“Spill,” he said simply when he started the engine.
I decided the truth was my best path to redemption.
“That was my boss. Well, now he’s my former boss. I’m assuming he’ll be fired. He was the COO of the company and was embezzling a lot of money. He tried to rape me yesterday…”
“What the fuck?” Drake hollered and I winced, the sound too loud in the tight confines of the car.
“Is that what they were arresting him for? You pressed charges? Jesus, Cassidy.” He looked at me and I shook my head with a wince.
“No. I didn’t press charges. He tried to rape me. He didn’t. Miriam walked in on us. If I would have pressed charges—well, he probably would have gotten off with a slap on the wrist. He’s connected. Really connected. So, I sent his financials—his real financials—to all his clients, the board and all the executives at the company. Anonymously, of course.” I laughed, it sounded kind of hysterical to my ears.
He looked at me in disbelief.
“Does everyone who messes with you end up in jail?”
“Not everyone,” I sighed. I was pretty sure the person that killed me wasn’t in prison.
Chapter 13
Oh Damn
When I crossed over into the Afterlife complex, I was sti
ll feeling light-headed. I manifested out of my professional attire into a pair of yoga pants and a comfy tee. Flip flops added to my ensemble and I let my hair fall down my back. I was tired of being a blonde. I wondered if Drake would like my natural color.
What a stupid thought. Why did I care about what Drake would like? Drake’s opinion shouldn’t matter. I should be thinking about other things. Like the fact my boyfriend went missing right after I died. Maybe he was the one who killed me. A gun was found with his prints on it. That gun could have been the weapon that took me out.
Could Pete have done that?
I tried to think about our relationship. Anything. I came up blank. I remembered some of the moments of our friendship. The time we had all gone camping. A trip to Chicago. The day we had all decided to smoke weed for the first time and ended up getting busted by Pete’s mom. But nothing about later. Nothing recent. Only flashes. Kisses. An intake of breath as his lips touched my flesh. The way he would do this thing with his finger that would have me screaming.
I blushed. Not ready for those thoughts. It couldn't have been Pete. But then, who?
My thoughts drifted back to Drake. If I had cared about Pete, why was Drake the only guy I could think about? Pete was missing, maybe dead. Maybe my murderer. I had thought I loved him, but it was Drake’s face that came to mind.
He had been so considerate on the drive home. He stayed quiet, only asking me how I felt and if my head hurt. It had only been a few short blocks to my access point. He hadn’t even tried to walk me to the door. He had only looked at me…those eyes…
“Oh damn,” I cursed, stumbling on the paver stones that led out of the bowers. I stumbled to a bench that lined the path and sat down hard.
Drake hadn’t brought me to the condos where he thought I lived.
He had brought me to the closest access point. My closest access point that he wasn’t supposed to know about. It was a high rise hotel located only a few blocks from where I worked. I hadn’t even noticed. I had hopped out of his car, nodding as he said he’d be in touch and then I went to my usual entry point. The lobby bathroom of the hotel. The hotel he wasn’t supposed to know about.