Opportunity (Office Roulette, Book Three)

by Kennedy Layne

  “I’m sure Smith will love what you’ve done for him, Marilyn.”

  Cynthia had heard enough to know that she’d been completely wrong about Marilyn hiding some horrible secret. Unfortunately, she’d had taken an innocent act and spiraled it out of control. That alone told her that she was overreacting to the simplest of things.

  Honestly, she should have braved the weather and gone for a quick jog this morning. A bit of snow and cold wouldn’t have hurt her, and the exercise would have leveled out her emotions.

  “You thought that I…”

  Marilyn’s voice faded, but in such a hurt manner that it caused Cynthia to feel like shit. She was lower than dirt, and there wasn’t a thing she could say to make things better. That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try.

  “I’m sorry, Marilyn. It’s only because I found it odd that you were using Brad’s office when I know how much his death affected you,” Cynthia tried to reason, only ending up making things worse. She couldn’t blame her. How else was one supposed to act when basically being accused of murder? “I shouldn’t have made assumptions.”

  “Isn’t that what we’re all doing, Cynthia?” Marilyn said rather mournfully as she pointed out the flaws of every employee at the firm. She made her way around the large reception area to her chair, though she didn’t sit down. “Paul thinks Steve killed Brad, Steve’s all but accused Josh of being the killer, Blair thought that Vern had something to do with the murder, and Vern left here muttering that there was no way Phil couldn’t be the guilty party. It was easy to see that Detective Mancini thought Smith was responsible, but Detective Nielsen had no choice but to arrest Grace after evidence was planted in her vehicle. And let’s not forget Brad’s gambling debts.”

  Cynthia almost sighed with relief that she and Gareth hadn’t been included in that list of suspects, but she caught herself just in time. Marilyn wasn’t even close to being finished.

  Hadn’t Cynthia and the others agreed that Marilyn was the backbone of this company? She was like a hard drive that had accumulated a wealth of information over the years.

  “Then there’s Meredith. I’ve tried being there for her, but she got too caught up in her affair with Steve. The poor woman doesn’t know what she wants. She’s lucky that there was enough money for the house to be paid off.” Marilyn rested the back of her hand against her forehead, as if assigning motive to each individual was tasking. “And I’ve known Gareth was Brad’s biological brother for many years, so don’t think he wasn’t the first one I named when the police asked me for my opinion. I’m not saying he could do something that horrible, but those shows on television always have the killer being someone we least suspect.”

  Cynthia bit her tongue to keep from lashing out at Marilyn for even considering that Gareth could murder anyone, let alone his biological brother. But that would waste too much time, especially when her presence was being requested elsewhere.

  She wanted to bring up Kurt Langston. Unfortunately, that meant dragging herself through the mud. But didn’t Kurt have the most reason to kill Brad, especially given his role in Phil’s deceit?

  What were they all missing?

  “Marilyn, I’m going to be out of the office for about an hour.” Cynthia brought this conversation to a close, otherwise both of them would be here until the end of the day. A quick glance showed that Smith was still taking questions about the transition. “I’ll have my cell phone should anyone need me.”

  Cynthia quickly retrieved her purse, having sent a few text messages so that Laurel and Grace knew why she’d left the office. She also tried calling Gareth again, but he didn’t answer. She waited for the beep before giving a brief explanation as to where she was going, and that she would meet him at the restaurant at noon.

  It didn’t take her long to hail a taxi, hating that she didn’t have her car. It was a topic of discussion she needed to have with Gareth, especially since he’d made the decision to make Minneapolis his home base. Yes, he traveled quite a bit, but having a vehicle at his disposal was necessary.

  “The hospital, please,” Cynthia directed the driver, having closed the door and settled in before the outside temperature could invade the warmth of the cab. It was a good thing the building had the sidewalks cleared or else she would have most likely slipped on the ice in these heels. “And once we get there, please wait for me. I shouldn’t be long.”

  Cynthia sent Gareth a text with the new plans, even though she’d left him a voicemail. Chances were he’d read it before he had a moment to listen to his messages.

  She then looked out the window as the taxi pulled away from the curb, joining the rest of the lunch hour traffic. The nausea she’d been able to ward off from earlier returned with a vengeance. She couldn’t help but replay Marilyn’s ominous words about the guilty party being someone any of them would least suspect.

  Cynthia had been focused on Kurt and Phil, but what if a business transaction had turned personal? What if Kurt’s wife realized what was going on with his struggling tech company and had somehow discovered that her husband wasn’t as upstanding as she’d once thought.

  What if Kurt’s wife learned of the affair?

  Was Cynthia entering a trap set by Jane Langston?

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Gareth couldn’t help but stare a little longer at the vintage wedding ring—a classic French Belle Époque. The natural pearl was magnificent with some light pink reflects surrounded by old mine cut diamonds set in platinum. The gorgeous specimen resembled a stylized flower circa 1910 Asprey & Garrard Limited.

  The ring was rumored to have been commissioned as an anniversary gift from King Edward VII to his wife Alexandra of Denmark just prior to his untimely death in May of 1910. The beautiful gems were elegant yet simple…a portent of understated elegance and truly perfect for the woman he loved.

  The exclusivity of Edwardian era jewelry might seem antiquated now and its setting uncomplicated, but as it did in its time…the ring signified Cynthia’s uniqueness.

  An excitement unlike anything he’d ever experienced overwhelmed him in this moment.

  “Sir?” The man behind the counter was holding out his hand so that he could place the small square box in one of the store’s sophisticated black and white bags. “I think your future fiancée will be very happy with her very own piece of history.”

  Gareth gently closed the box before giving it back to the salesman, having already expressed his gratitude to the man who’d acquired such a lovely symbol of love from Sotheby’s. He reached into the pocket of his dress coat to pull out his phone, the need arising to hear Cynthia’s voice.

  Damn it.

  He must have left his phone in the console of her vehicle.

  “Here you are, sir. We wish you and your future wife the best of luck. It is certainly the best we have to offer and deserving of a good home.”

  It didn’t take long for Gareth to get back to Cynthia’s vehicle. He was mindful of the slick spots on the sidewalk, and he took care crossing the street to where he’d parked the car. There had been enough foot traffic to pack down the snow. It was slick if one didn’t watch where he or she was stepping. The sky had cast a greyish hue to the day, indicating more snow was in their future.

  He didn’t mind the cold. Not at all, especially when he was able to spend his nights in bed beside Cynthia.

  Gareth pressed the button on the key fob and quickly folded his frame into the driver’s seat. He started the engine before reaching for his phone, which was exactly where he’d left it—in the middle of the console. The display showed quite a few missed calls and messages from various business associates, an old friend who wanted to get together for drinks, and Cynthia.

  He immediately swiped Cynthia’s name to the right, revealing her message that she would meet him at the restaurant after stopping by the hospital to see Kurt Langston.

  “What the fuck? Why would she go to see him of all people?” Gareth muttered, wondering why she would do such an out of
the ordinary thing. He quickly listened to the voicemail she’d left, hoping that she would shed some light on her crazy decision. When he heard Cynthia explain that Langston had woken up in the ICU and was asking for her, his gaze shot to the digital clock on the dash. “Damn it.”

  Cynthia most likely had already reached the hospital, but going to see the man who’d been disloyal to his wife—the same woman who was almost certainly by his bedside—wasn’t the best of ideas.

  Why would Cynthia go in the first place?

  What could possibly have possessed her to make such a decision?

  He initiated a call to her, curbing his frustration over the fact that he didn’t understand her reasoning. Getting into an altercation with Jane Langston probably wouldn’t end well.

  After the fifth ring, his call went straight to voicemail. There was no need for him to leave a message, so he hung up and made the decision to drive straight to the restaurant. She’d mentioned that she’d meet him at Manny’s, and he trusted her that the situation she found herself in could be resolved peacefully.

  Gareth utilized the valet parking at the hotel that the restaurant was located in, taking with him the box he’d removed from the jewelry shop’s bag. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was leaving something so valuable inside the vehicle unguarded.

  He was shown to their table after checking his dress coat, having come to a decision. He then requested a table in the corner for more privacy. There was no need to wait to ask for Cynthia’s hand in marriage, and this couldn’t have been a more perfect location. The intimate atmosphere was flawless, they’d eaten their first meal together at this restaurant, and this hotel was where they’d first made love.

  There were some things that were meant to be—and this was one of them.

  “Is there anything I can get for you while you wait for your guest?”

  “Coffee, please. Meanwhile, you can let the wine breathe.”

  Gareth was not surprised to find that Cynthia had yet to make an appearance. He didn’t envy her the inevitable confrontation. Why would Langston have requested to speak with Cynthia to begin with? Had his near-death experience caused him to seek forgiveness?

  Ten minutes turned into twenty…with no Cynthia in sight.

  Gareth checked his phone for the tenth time, but she hadn’t tried to reach him since her last voicemail. He considered himself a patient man, but replaying the question he’d planned on asking her had him craving her presence.

  Another five minutes passed, and this time he couldn’t stop himself from trying to call her once more.

  Voicemail.

  She should have answered. She should have already been on her way to the restaurant by now.

  Unless something had happened when she’d gone to the hospital…or before she arrived.

  Gareth made the hasty decision to abandon the voicemail message and place a call in to the office. Marilyn picked up on the first ring.

  “Marilyn, this is Gareth. Is Cynthia still there?”

  “I’m sorry, but she stepped out of the office over an hour ago.”

  “Would you please patch me through to either Laurel or Grace? Whichever one is available,” Gareth stipulated abruptly, the two cups of coffee he’d consumed not sitting well in his stomach. Cynthia had been gone for over an hour. As far as he was aware, the ICU was rather strict with the amount of time allowed for visitors. Had she gotten into a confrontation with Jane Langston? “Laurel?”

  “Hi, Gareth,” Laurel greeted, not sounding concerned in the least. He would have thought her outlook would have eased his concerns, but that was far from the case. “What can I do for you?”

  “Have you spoken with Cynthia?”

  “Not recently,” Laurel replied. “Paul and Smith were conducting a staff meeting, but Cynthia took a phone call in the middle of it. She sent a text saying that Kurt Langston had woken up and wanted to see her. I was honestly surprised that she would go, but she tacked on that she was meeting you for lunch afterward.”

  Gareth allowed the pause to grow longer as he thought over what could possibly be keeping Cynthia at the hospital. Had Langston’s condition reversed? Could he have passed away?

  No.

  Cynthia would have called him immediately.

  “Gareth, what’s going on? Why do you sound so concerned?”

  “I don’t know,” Gareth responded honestly, having an urgent need to see Cynthia’s beautiful face…right now. “She’s not answering her phone, and she should have been here by now. I’m going to head over to the hospital. Listen, if she calls you, please let me know.”

  Gareth disconnected the call before he lifted a hand to catch the waitress’ attention. He’d leave word for Cynthia should she show up at the restaurant. For all he knew, the battery in her cell phone had died…though that was highly unlikely. They had both charged their phones together last night, and he had seventy-three percent charge left on his device.

  He quickly relayed the pertinent information before leaving the table and heading toward the front door. They would keep the wine set aside until he returned. Hopefully, he was overreacting and they could both look back at this moment and laugh.

  Unfortunately, as much as he’d like to think there was a valid reason for Cynthia not to be answering her phone, an ominous impression told him there was something wrong.

  Cynthia wasn’t lucky enough to have the driver of the cab wait for her near the front entrance of the hospital. She’d have to call for another taxi or car service when she was ready to head to the restaurant.

  The sliding doors quietly opened before she stepped into the large foyer. She tilted her head when the strong scent of antiseptic washed over her. This place smelled like every other hospital she’d ever been in. She continued forward until she was standing before the counter of the help desk.

  “Excuse me,” Cynthia said, catching a woman’s attention who was clicking away on her keyboard. “Could you direct me to the ICU?”

  Natalie, as her nametag read, pointed Cynthia toward the elevator bank and gave instructions to find the ICU from there. It didn’t take her long to arrive at a sterile lobby with a small waiting area outside the large double doors where Detective Nielsen designated they should meet.

  She debated removing her winter coat, but she decided against it. It was doubtful that she’d be here long, plus she didn’t want to become too exposed. It was silly, really, but the long wool jacket gave her a sense of protection from what was to come.

  Cynthia pulled out her cell phone from her purse right as the elevator doors swung open to reveal Detective Nielsen. She’d expected him to come through the ICU doors, but he must have been downstairs grabbing a bite to eat at the cafeteria. At least, she’d deduced that from the stain on his tie. His appearance was a bit ruffled, which was unusual. He was typically well put together and generally didn’t have dark circles underneath his eyes.

  “Thank you for coming down here, Ms. Ellsworth.”

  “It was no problem, though I’m not sure why Kurt would want to see me. He—”

  The large double doors behind Cynthia swung open, causing her to step aside while a crying woman walked out being comforted by another.

  “Detective, was that—”

  “Yes,” Detective Nielsen replied, his lips compressing in sorrow. He slowly shook his head as he stepped to the side to allow Jane Langston to enter the elevator. “Kurt Langston died around twenty minutes ago.”

  Cynthia stared in horror and disbelief as the doors slowly slid closed, causing Jane Langston to disappear from view. She’d been crying too hard to even recognize those people around her, and Cynthia was ever grateful that her presence hadn’t been noticed.

  Kurt Langston had lied and deceived Cynthia into an affair, but Jane Langston most likely wouldn’t have cared about the circumstances. She would have instantly accused Cynthia on first sight of having an affair with her husband…who was now dead.

  The pain Jane Langston was currently under had to b
e substantial, and the last thing Cynthia wanted was to add even more.

  “I-I don’t know what to say,” Cynthia said softly, clutching her cell phone in her hand. She shouldn’t have come here. “I thought you said that he was awake and asking to speak with me. I thought it was about—”

  Cynthia stopped talking, because she realized that it was no longer important.

  “I wish you’d informed me of how critical the situation was.” Cynthia was still staring at the closed elevator doors, various scenarios running through her mind as to how this could have gone differently had Jane Langston recognized her. “I wouldn’t have agreed to—”

  “Mr. Langston did wake up briefly, but it wasn’t long after that he passed away. Why do you think it is he asked to speak with you?” Detective Nielsen gestured that they should take this to one of the alcoves that was set up for privacy. She gladly walked over to one of the blue leather seats that hadn’t been designed for comfort. “Were the two of you still involved?”

  Cynthia’s first reaction was disgust, and she stared up at Detective Nielsen with shock. Did he think so little of her that he would assume she’d continue to have sex with a married man? Nausea had almost become a permanent fixture, so she didn’t even bother to release the grip on her phone to rest a hand over her stomach.

  “No, not at all,” Cynthia answered bluntly, completely done with this discussion. She locked her knees together, fulling intending to stand and walk out of this hospital with her head held high. “Look, Detective, there’s nothing more that I…”

  Cynthia allowed her voice to trail off when Detective Nielsen knelt in front of her, blocking her from leaving her chair. His closeness was unexpected, and she drew back immediately.

  What was happening?

  Why was he…

  Cynthia could only stare in horror as her mind registered the fact that he’d drawn his firearm from its holster and rested the cold metal against her knee. She sat motionless, as if she was frozen. The man before her no longer resembled the attentive police officer who was investigating a murder. He was trapping her in the seat and not letting her leave.