by Desiree Holt
“We’ll definitely get to that,” Callahan assured him. “Meanwhile, the first place we’ll start is your office. That’s where he spent most of his time since he got here, right?”
“Yes.”
And although he didn’t know for certain, Liam was pretty damn sure Eric had not been in contact with anyone else in the area. He apparently lived and breathed a job when he was on it.
“Then we’ll want to talk to your entire staff. Nine o’clock Monday morning. At your offices.”
“You want to question all of them?” Okay, so he sounded like an idiot.
“Everyone who came into contact with Mr. Braun.”
Well, he damn sure wasn’t giving them Hoffman’s name.
He blew out a breath and tried to pull himself together. He still had trouble believing this whole thing had happened.
“Fine. I’ll get hold of them. They’ll be…shocked.” To say the least. “I have some calls to make, but I’d like to see him first.”
The two detectives exchanged glances. “Are you sure?”
“Is he disfigured in some way? Will I be shocked to see him? What’s the problem?”
Again they exchanged looks.
And Liam lost it. Rage replaced shock, and he had to ball his fists to keep from decking one of these guys.
“Look, goddammit. A man doing some work for me has been murdered. I am not going to call people to come in and be questioned, or notify the people who need to be, without getting my eyes on him. Now where the fuck is he?”
One of the two people sitting by the door gasped audibly.
“Okay, okay, okay.” Duarte held up his hand. “Keep it down. Come on. We’ll take you to where he is. We’re waiting for the medical examiner’s van to pick him up.”
Callahan punched the button on the elevator and they rode down in silence.
They took him to an empty room at the rear of the first floor. Eric’s body lay strapped to a gurney, completely covered with a sheet. Liam gently peeled it back from his face and stared at the man he’d taken an instant liking to. The man looked as if he was asleep, except for the exceptional paleness of his face. Liam stood there for a long moment, just staring at him, a chill racing through his body. Then he dropped the sheet back into place.
He took a moment to pull his shit together, settle himself down. As devastating as Eric’s murder was, he had another urgent situation.
“He had a car,” he told the detectives. “It isn’t at the office building. I’m not sure which company he rented it from but I’m sure you have the resources to find it.”
Duarte scribbled in his tiny notebook.
And fuck! The laptop with the Hoffman program on it is no doubt in the missing messenger bag, which is probably in the car.
“Please let me know when you find the car. And I’m pretty sure his messenger bag will be in it. There should be a laptop with files relating to our current projects. I need to get that ASAP.”
Callahan frowned. “That becomes evidence. We’ll have to make sure there’s nothing that would have led to this murder.”
Liam controlled himself with a major effort. “There are files on there that belong to clients. Files we’re working on that cannot be viewed except by my staff or me. It’s all confidential.”
Duarte looked at his partner. “I hear you, but do you understand if it’s found in the deceased’s car it becomes part of a murder investigation?”
Liam ground his teeth. Eric dead. Murdered. The laptop missing. He needed more clout that he had to fix this. God. Could things possibly get worse?
“All right. I’m leaving, I have calls to make. But please. If you find that laptop, can you at least let me know?”
“I guess we can do that,” Callahan told him. He pulled a business card out of his wallet. “If you think of anything we should know, give me a call.”
“Or me.” Duarte also handed him a card. “And don’t forget about your employees. Nine o’clock Monday morning.”
“We’ll be there. All of us.”
“We’ll count on it.”
He had little recollection of driving away from the hospital and heading home. He had everyone’s phone numbers in his contacts list on his phone and he desperately needed a drink to do this. He didn’t even bother to check to see if someone was following him, although with all the traffic today how the hell would he know, anyway?
A thought slammed into him and he almost vomited in the car. Had Eric been killed by mistake? Was he, Liam, the actual target? But who would have made such a mistake?
The moment he was inside his townhouse, he tossed a couple of ice cubes into a glass and poured a substantial amount of his favorite whiskey. He swallowed a generous amount in one gulp, hoping the burn as it worked its way down his body would erase the sick feeling that gripped him. He had one call to make before he contacted his staff and he was not looking forward to it. It was entirely possible that after this he and Arroyo would be history.
Dropping onto the couch, he took another healthy swallow of his drink and speed-dialed Taylor Cantrell. She’d insisted if he needed her and it was urgent she call her cell. He just hoped she’d be able to take his call.
“Liam? I’m gathering since you called this number there’s some kind of emergency?”
“Yeah.” He exhaled slowly. “I, um, am afraid I have bad news for you. Devastating news.”
He could tell from the silence that stretched across the connection she was stunned by his news, and probably having a hard time absorbing it.
“Give me just a minute here. Okay, we’re home today. I’m going to call you back on a landline so Noah can get in on this, too.”
Liam had barely disconnected when the phone rang again.
“Give me all the details,” Taylor said. “Everything you know.”
“It’s not much,” he told her, “but here it is.”
He recounted everything Duarte and Callahan had told him, in as much detail as he knew. There was a long silence when he finished.
“Taylor? You there?”
“We’re both here.” Noah’s voice. “Go over it one more time for us.”
So, he did, starting with Eric’s voice mail message.
“And that’s all I’ve got. Jesus, I don’t even know what to say to you. If you want to pull out of the deal with Software By Design, I’ll totally understand and there’d be no objections on my part.”
“That’s not our style,” Noah told him.
“Unless you killed Eric yourself,” Taylor added, “which I certainly do not believe is the case. There’s no way we’d throw you to the wolves. We take care of our own. But we need to get organized here.”
Liam blew out a sigh of relief. He’d been sure he was once and done with Arroyo after this.
“Thank you. I— Just thank you.”
“Give us the names of the detectives. Noah, call Charlie Voight. Liam, Charlie’s one of our attorneys. He can call the Tampa PD and get information from them. Let them know you aren’t battling this alone. And he’ll make a case for the return of the laptop. Charlie’s plugged into a lot of places and he’ll be able to get every bit of information from them.”
Liam wasn’t going to argue with her about that. The cops might not tell Liam Benedict of Software By Design a whole lot, but Arroyo was a horse of a different color.
“They want everyone on my staff at the office Monday morning at nine for questioning. I got the feeling if I argued about it, they’d haul us all down to the police station to do it.”
“Not without an attorney.” Taylor was firm on that. “They’ll look at the people he knew here before widening their investigation, because nine times out of ten that’s where they’ll find the answers. If nothing pans out, they’ll start to look elsewhere. But let’s not just give them carte blanche. Someone will be there to protect your interests.”
“Taylor, getting that laptop back is imperative.”
“I know and that’s at the top of my list. I’ll
also call his assistant and see if she has anything. If he talked to her or messaged her or anything.”
“Assistant?” Liam felt like an idiot for not knowing about this.
“Yes. He doesn’t talk about her much because she’s his secret weapon. He emails coded critical files to her along with information on the cases he works. I’m hoping he did this with your job.”
“Me, too.” Liam rubbed his forehead. “That would help solve a lot of problems.”
“All right. Let me make some calls and get back to you. And Liam?”
“Yes?”
“I won’t tell you to relax because I know that’s not possible under the circumstances. But remember, we’ve got your back on this.”
“And it’s a pretty broad back,” Noah added. “We can do a lot of heavy lifting.”
The band of tension squeezing his head eased.
“I need to call his assistant. She’s probably going crazy wondering why the cops called her looking for Eric.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Taylor said. “It would probably be better coming from someone she knows.”
The pressure eased a little. “Thank you. I wasn’t looking forward to that.”
“No problem. You’ve got enough to handle. We’ll get back to you as soon as we have more to tell you.” Taylor’s voice was both efficient and reassuring.
“I don’t know what to say except thank you.”
When he disconnected the call, he sat there for a long moment, just holding his cell phone. What a damn mess, and just when he was taking a giant step forward. He wondered who he’d pissed off in the universe for this to happen.
He should have asked the cops if this would be released to reporters. He’d hate for his people to read about it before he had a chance to tell them. And he really wanted to tell them in person. He debated about calling one of the detectives and asking, worried they might think he was hiding something, but then he decided leaving it to chance might be worse.
He pulled both cards out of his pocket and dialed the number of the one on top.
“Duarte.”
“Detective?” Liam did his best to speak in a reasonable tone. “This is Liam Benedict.”
“Mr. Benedict. Did you think of something else to add?”
“I wish. No, in fact I have a favor to ask.”
“A favor?” Duarte’s voice was neutral, giving away no indication if he’d be receptive or not.”
“Yes. I’d like to be able to tell my staff in person about Eric Braun’s death. I’d rather they didn’t hear it on the news first.” He paused, but when Duarte said nothing, he added, “Most of them are enjoying Gasparilla this weekend. If you could keep it out of the news until Monday, I plan to ask them to get to the office at eight-thirty. That gives me half an hour to give them the few details I have and to make sure they know answering your questions is an important part of finding out who did this.”
“You sure you don’t just want this time so everyone can get their stories straight?” The note of skepticism wasn’t hard to miss.
“Not at all. They don’t know the man well, but he’s been working in our offices for a week so he’s not a stranger. That’s why I want to do this in person.”
Silence hummed across the connection for a long minute.
“Fine, then. We can do that. Just make sure you aren’t setting us up with a well-rehearsed story.”
Liam gripped the phone in frustration. “That would be hard to do, Detective, since I don’t have one to rehearse. And thank you.”
After he disconnected, he sent a quick message to Taylor.
Cops will hold off releasing the story until I meet with staff Monday a.m.
It was ten minutes before a reply came back.
Good. If u think one of them is involved it will give you an opportunity to see their reaction.
He rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the tightness pressing against him. Yeah, Taylor. I do think one of them is involved. I just don’t know which one or why. And it will kill me if it’s one of them I feel closest to.
Damn it all, anyway. How did this shit happen?
* * * *
Eight pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly before getting out of the car and heading into the restaurant. Even the pep talk that lasted all afternoon wasn’t enough preparation for this upcoming discussion with Shan. There was just no way around it, however. The news of Eric Braun’s death would be out probably before the night was over. And in any event, the danger of him going to Liam with what he’d discovered was no longer a factor. It was to be hoped, since there had to be a bright spot here, Liam would not be finding out what Eric had discovered any time soon. And even if he put another forensic data specialist on it, by the time he or she found what Eric had, Eight would have been paid and be long gone.
As usual, Shan was already there, occupying a booth in a far corner. Eight slid into the seat opposite and motioned for the waiter. Doing this without alcohol wasn’t going to be possible. Shan frowned at the order of a double bourbon.
“Are you going to tell me something that will make me unhappy? Is that why you need the liquid courage? You know how I feel about that.”
Too bad. Fuck you. You didn’t have to stick a knife in someone today. Twice.
“Having this drink is the least of my sins today.” Eight lifted the glass when the waitress delivered it and took a healthy swallow. It burned on the way down, but at least the jittery nerves stopped doing their St. Vitus Dance.
Shan frowned. “And what sins would you be talking about?”
Eight leaned forward and in a low voice said, “Today I killed a man. For you.”
Shan gave no indication that the news was shocking, other than a slight narrowing of the eyes. “Was this a spur-of-the-moment thing?”
“Of course.” Eight gripped the glass. “Do you think I deliberately plan to murder people?”
“I have no idea if you do or not. And what brought on today’s unexpected action?”
In short, concise sentences, Eight recited the events of the day, from the moment of arrival at SBD to overhearing Eric on the phone to finding him at Gasparilla and stabbing him.
“And you are positive no one knew it was you doing this?”
Eight gave a short nod. “I had on my Gasparilla clothes and added the head wrap. I looked like everyone else waiting for the parade. Braun was trying to find where the floats lined up so he could grab Benedict. I could not let that happen. You could not let that happen.”
“I have nothing to do with this.” Shan spoke the words in a flat, impersonal voice. “There are no traces back to me. Our meetings have been clandestine and we have had no communications that were traceable. No one even knows of my involvement.”
Eight stared. Shan was right. Everything had been handled to leave no trackbacks.
I’m the only one with a neck in the noose.
Fuck.
“I could always drop your name if I get caught.”
A muscle ticked in Shan’s jaw. “That would be a very bad mistake on your part. Even jail could not protect you from us. Now give me the details of how this disaster happened.”
Eight drained the rest of the whiskey in the glass and signaled for another. Then went into a careful explanation of the events that led up to the stabbing.
“And the knife?” Shan asked.
“Back at SBD. I knew Liam would come back there looking for Eric when he couldn’t contact him. I made sure I was long gone by then. And yes, I made sure none of my prints were on there. I kept a tissue wrapped around it so I could preserve his prints. Just in case.”
“At least you kept your wits about you.”
“I also made sure not to wipe all the blood off. I’m sure the cops will come talk to everyone there. They’ll see the knife and take it from there.”
Shan’s lips curved in a malicious smile.
“So. Two birds with one stone. Or one knife, as it were.”
“I’m not as stupid as
you seem to think.” Eight was getting really irritated. “Anyway. By the time this investigation is over and Liam can hire another expert, you should have all the files you need. Have you been able to get in okay? Like the other night?”
“Yes.” Shan gave a sharp nod. “We are doing it piecemeal so as not to alert anyone. Your back door is working fine.”
“Good. When do I get my money?”
“When the work is complete.”
Eight felt a surge of anger. “That’s not the arrangement. Half when you know it works, the other half when you have all the files. I want the first half now.”
“I will have to speak with my people.”
Eight gripped the glass so hard it was a wonder it didn’t crack. “I kept my end of the bargain. And I put myself in danger to make sure it didn’t get screwed up. Do you want me to put the word out you don’t keep your bargains?”
“And exactly who would you tell?” Sarcasm edged Shan’s voice.
Eight leaned forward. “Don’t forget that I have long tentacles out there on the web. And on the dark net. I don’t know who else your ‘people’ reach out to or what they reach out for, but I can screw it up. So, don’t fuck with me.”
Shan’s face became a mask. “Fine. But don’t you fuck with me, or it won’t be pretty.”
Eight stared for a moment then slid out of the booth. “Thanks for the drink.”
“You have your burner phones. If you run out, buy more. I want regular updates on this situation.”
“Fine.”
Eight didn’t draw a full breath until the restaurant was well in the background.
Fucking Shan. Maybe I’ll add another victim to my list. Killing wasn’t as hard as I thought.
Chapter Fifteen
Liam wanted more than anything to hide in his townhouse with Sydney over the weekend. Lock away the outside world. Open a bottle of wine. Binge on movies and Chinese food and have stupendous sex. Immerse himself in Sydney and forget about the disasters waiting for him just outside his door. Monday would be soon enough to deal with them.