by Barb Han
“Plus, the money never appeared in her accounts,” Dash pointed out, despite knowing it wouldn’t have.
“She told me a little bit about her past. She said it was rough for a while, but she got straightened out. If any of the information comes to light, they’ll skewer her at the firm,” Raina said.
“The media will hound her. Plus, Alec is already pivoting his story to save his own rear end.” Dash’s grip on the remote caused his knuckles to turn white.
“I have no doubt he’ll start backpedaling. The company will hold him accountable if one of his employees stole two million dollars, unless he distances himself.” It was disgusting but true. Alec was out for himself.
“Did my sister tell you about her juvie record?” Dash asked.
Raina nodded. “Not specifics. I just knew that she’d gone through a rough patch and came out the other side because of you.”
“She said that?” He shouldn’t be so surprised. To Layla, he was a saint.
“Yes,” she confirmed. “As far as the case goes, I wonder if she could have been someone’s unwitting accomplice.”
“My sister is too smart to hand over her passwords. She’s also too suspicious of everyone she meets.” It seemed to dawn on him who she was talking about when his lips thinned. “Are you talking about her ex?”
“Yes.”
“His name is going to come up anyway, Raina. You might as well tell me now.” He made a good point.
The thought of betraying her best friend’s trust sat hard. But he was right. Calum’s name would come up. Raina issued a sharp sigh. “Calum Langston is his name.”
Dash’s lips compressed as he shook his head. “Never heard of him.”
“He’s the head of her department. Alec’s boss. He’s also a vice president who...” She flashed her eyes at him. “You’re not going to like this part.”
“I don’t like any of this, so you might as well go on.”
“He’s married. But before you make a judgment, she didn’t know. She knew he was married, but he was supposed to be in the process of a divorce. It’s the reason Layla kept him under the radar. She was waiting until the divorce was final to bring him around. And I only knew recently when I stopped by her house to find him leaving. They couldn’t hide from me.”
“So, he manipulated my sister and you didn’t tell me this immediately?” He ground his back teeth.
“It sure felt that way, and I didn’t think it was my secret to tell,” she admitted. “I got a bad feeling about him, so I did a little digging into his personal life. I figured I could use it against him if the relationship went sour and he tried to blackmail Layla if she became inconvenient.”
“What did you find?”
“He got his wife pregnant at the time he said they weren’t together,” she said.
“How did my sister react?”
“She was mortified. Embarrassed. I told her right away and hated every minute of the pain I knew I was causing her. I just couldn’t let him get away with using her. She was head over heels, talking about spending time together in the mountains over Thanksgiving in his family’s cabin. And I use the word cabin loosely. Mansion is more like it.”
“He’s the reason she was withdrawing from work,” he surmised.
“Yes.”
“Stealing two million dollars would be a great middle finger to a man who was using her,” he stated, with the kind of dread in his voice that said he thought he might be right.
“She didn’t do it, though.” Raina had to be clear on that point. “There were other, better ways to stick it to someone. And to be clear, she was mortified when she found out she was a mistress.”
“My sister has done a lot of things in the past, but knowingly spending time with a married man is a line she wouldn’t cross,” he agreed.
“Not only did she feel burned and humiliated, she felt shame. Shame that took her back to the mistakes she made in her youth. She spiraled and didn’t want to face him or anyone else at the office, figuring it was only a matter of time before others found out and she was labeled. She didn’t have the confidence to believe anyone would take her side because he’s very well liked at the office. The guys want to be him and the women all wish they could have five minutes alone with him, no wives or husbands. He’s that charming.”
Chapter Seven
Dash wouldn’t mind five minutes alone in a room with Calum Langston, but lust had nothing to do with it. He had plans to speak to this guy face-to-face and a strong desire to set the man straight that Dash knew better than to act on during an investigation. There was another question on the tip of his tongue that he had no right to ask Raina: Was Calum Langston tempting to her?
He made note of the name and moved on. There were five names on the screen: Alec. Calum. Stuart. Talia. Layla. “This gives me a place to start.”
“I think we both know there are only four real suspects,” she quickly pointed out. She pulled her laptop over and started tapping on the keys. “I’m shooting my boss a note to let him know that I’m working from home for the foreseeable future.”
“I need a list of all my sister’s acquaintances. Places she visits. Does she have a regular person at the nail salon? What about hair?”
“I have all those contacts.” She grabbed her cell phone and started sharing straight to his phone. “But I’m her best friend. Other than her relationship with Calum, I’m it. She’s not the kind of person who collects a lot of friends for the sake of filling contacts on her phone. You know?”
He did know. But he should have known her better. The affair had caught him completely by surprise. There was no need to ask Raina for Calum Langston’s phone number. His contact information would be on the company’s website.
“Make yourself comfortable,” he said to her as he stood.
“Where are you going?” One of her eyebrows shot up.
He held out his phone. “To talk to a hairdresser and nail tech.” Most people spilled secrets in those places. His sister was usually the exception, but her lack of office comradery made her a good target for an older man looking for a mistress.
“I’m going with you,” Raina said.
“Not this time. I’ll come back and pick you up,” he said.
“I could be helpful,” she argued.
“And I work best alone when interviewing someone. I usually get more out of people that way.” He wasn’t trying to be a jerk. This was just how he preferred to work a case. “I’ll swing by and pick you up before heading to prison to visit Layla.”
Raina didn’t seem thrilled with the plan, but she nodded.
“Stay at that. You’ll do the most good on that keyboard. If we can get an IP address, we can nail the bastard.” Most people were savvy enough to use a virtual private network, VPN, to deflect their signal to a place like Canada.
“I’m on it,” she said, looking a little too right getting comfortable on his couch. She tucked a throw pillow behind her back and settled in. “I wish I’d brought yoga pants and a T-shirt, though.”
“Any preference for lunch?” He could pick up something on the way back. Cooking was not in his skill set. Heating and reheating were more up his alley. He had a steady supply of what he called “divorced-man meals” delivered from one of those services. The food was edible. He got by on it. But it was nothing to write home about.
“Tacos sound good.”
He liked that she ate real food with him. Salads were for rabbits, not people. Then again, he couldn’t see his sister hanging around with someone who wouldn’t go for the occasional burger. Layla knew how to eat. Preparing food wasn’t a West family forte, despite the fact that their father could throw down a steak on a grill like nobody’s business. Their mother’s cooking could best be described as edible, but with a good effort. Or maybe, made with love. He hadn’t thought about his parents in a long time,
and he never talked about them. An all-too-familiar pain stabbed him in the chest.
“Easy enough.” He checked the time. There was a taco shop on the corner. But the food truck was even better. Before he headed out, he remembered the suit and tie from earlier who’d met with Alec.
Dash brought up the video on his cell phone. He froze the frame on a clear shot. “Have you ever seen this guy before?”
She studied the screen and then shrugged. “No idea who he is.”
“Any chance he works at the firm?” he asked.
“I don’t recall seeing him before. The suit is expensive. Looks handmade.” He had thought the same thing. “Most client meetings happen in our building. We have some pretty elaborate conference rooms with snacks and drinks. There’s no reason to leave the building to get coffee. When we have big client meetings, everything is catered.”
Most people who worked in the IT field wore jeans and a relaxed shirt, but the fact that Raina wore a skirt and blouse meant everyone had to look their best. And she looked damn good in that form-fitting skirt.
He could bring the video up on the big screen later. Right now, he needed to visit the beauty industry and then grab some tacos.
“I’ll be back.” He pocketed his cell phone and grabbed his key fob from the bowl. The only other woman who had been to his apartment at all was Layla, not even Talia or Emma.
Dash decided not to read too much into it. Raina was there to work on a case, and having her at his home kept her in his sight.
On the elevator, he checked both contacts, nail and hair. He determined which was farthest—hair—and decided to hit that one first. Layla’s hairstylist was named Rikki. No last name. Just Rikki. This should be interesting.
Distracted, he didn’t realize the elevator had reached the garage until the doors opened. He walked over to his sports car, thinking he needed to take the Lexus out next time with Raina. He’d seen her struggle to get in and out of his sports car, which was too low to the ground for someone wearing a skirt.
The drive to Layla’s hairdresser took half an hour in traffic. The salon was one of those individual suite–type places. Rikki occupied number seven. That was Layla’s lucky number, Dash thought. Or at least it had been when she was a kid. Was it still? There was too much he didn’t know about his baby sister.
But Rikki’s place suited her. This came as no surprise. The building was nondescript on the outside, in a typical newly built strip center. But inside, there were chandeliers and fluffy white rugs everywhere. The exposed piping that had been painted black was meant to give the place an industrial-chic look. The gray walls and black trim added to the ambience and opulence.
“Can I help you, sweetheart?” The man who greeted him was three inches shorter than Dash and had almost as much facial hair. He had on a full face of flawless makeup and he would be considered attractive in a made-up sense. His hair was platinum blond, long and had been straightened.
“Are you Rikki?” he asked, just to confirm what he already knew.
“Depends on who’s asking.” Rikki looked Dash up and down, sizing him up. His gaze lingered on the weapon in his holster.
“Dash West. I’m Layla’s brother.”
“Oh.” Rikki straightened up, and he gained another inch in height. “Ohmygod. Honey...” He dropped his gaze to his client, who was staring at Dash through the mirror. “Hold tight. I’ll be right back, sugar.”
Rikki almost flew out of his suite. “Follow me.”
They wound down a long hallway and circled around to the back suites. On the right, there was a small break room with the door propped open. Rikki motioned for Dash to follow him inside and then he kicked the stopper out of the way. The door closed with an audible thump, and Rikki whirled around.
“How is our girl?” he asked, concern knitting his eyebrows together.
“You know Layla. She says she’s fine.”
“How could she be? The food must be horrendous in a place like that.” Rikki seemed horrified.
Prison wasn’t known for gourmet cooking. No Michelin-starred restaurants in lockup.
“Wait, that was a stupid thing to say. The food is the least of her problems,” Rikki said.
“I’m talking to her friends. Seeing if I can piece together how any of this could have happened.” He didn’t say ‘on my watch’ despite thinking it.
“Of course you are. You’re an amazing brother. Lay—” he flashed his thick-lashed eyes at Dash “—that’s what I call her.”
Dash nodded his understanding.
“Lay talked about you all the time,” Rikki said. “Like, all the time.”
As heart-warming as that sounded, Dash highly doubted it was true.
Rikki gave him a once-over. “What do you want to know?”
“Who her friends were. Who she talked about. Her relationship status. What was going on in her life.” He figured that covered the basics.
“Okay. Here goes. She was thinking about getting a dog because she just had a rough breakup,” Rikki claimed. “Boyfriend turned out to be married. She took it hard.”
Nothing Dash didn’t already know. Still, he nodded and played the part.
“What else? Hmm.” Rikki’s gaze became unfocused, like he was looking inside himself for more information. He was being honest and genuine. “She’d been working from home a lot lately.” He perked up. “Oh. And the last time she was here, she seemed super paranoid. Like she half expected the guy’s wife to show up or something. I asked her about it, but she shrugged it off. You know Lay. When she doesn’t want to share, she doesn’t talk.”
Dash had planned on investigating Calum and his wife. This news bumped them both up the list. “Did she mention any names?”
Rikki shook his head. “Never. She just called him ‘VP.’”
“Did she mention spending time with anyone else recently?” Dash asked.
“Not that I can think of,” Rikki said. “Not lately. She just acted paranoid when she was here. And she got right in and out, which wasn’t like her. Then she canceled her last two appointments before...”
Rikki gave him another look as though he couldn’t speak the words out loud. He teared up.
“Did anyone ever come in with her?” Dash asked.
“No.” Rikki shivered like the question offended him. “Why would they?”
“I have no idea. I’m just throwing spaghetti against the wall, so to speak.”
“I gotcha.” Rikki exhaled. “This whole thing is so not cool.”
He could say that again.
“That’s as much as I know. Lay kept her secrets,” Rikki said.
Dash thanked Rikki for his time and then exited the maze-like building. It would be just like his sister to come to a place that had privacy instead of those open-air buffet-style chop shops where conversation hummed and hairdressers stood within a few feet of each other.
His visit to an older woman who went by the name of Hun—presumably meant to be Hon—at the sleek nail salon Layla frequented went the same way as his meeting with Rikki.
Layla had been nervous about something or someone. Was she being stalked? Or afraid of getting busted?
* * *
RAINA REFUSED TO let frustration get the best of her as she typed a little faster this time. It wouldn’t help, but it made her feel like she was doing something. She stared at the screen mounted on the wall with suspect names. Her stomach reminded her lunch had come and gone. She ignored the pangs, thinking about the word motive instead. What motivation would someone have to set Layla up?
With the kind of program the hacker had used, it could be random. It probably didn’t feel that way to Layla right now, but hackers broke into systems all the time just because they could. Virus-protection software? She almost laughed out loud. Those had to be right up there with the number one reason someone’s system was br
eached. They had more back doors than a hotel.
Speaking of snooping around, the temptation to go through Dash’s personal things was ever present. She tried to convince herself that she wanted to get to know him better. That it would somehow kill the attraction simmering between them. But she managed to keep the urge in check. It would be an invasion of his personal space. She could hunt around in people’s computers with her skill set, but her code of ethics wouldn’t allow for it. Rummaging through his kitchen drawers was no different.
So, back to motive and Layla’s case. There was the obvious reason...greed. Two million dollars was a lot of money. Layla had money in the bank. She made plenty to live a nicer lifestyle than Raina. Was it enough?
Despite trying to be objective, Raina was going to fall short. She couldn’t imagine Layla ruining what she had worked hard for over a couple million dollars. If she kept at her job and continued doing as well as she had been, she’d make that in a few years.
Of course, setting her up would be one heck of a way to get her fired and discredited. She wouldn’t be able to take her talents to another firm with a criminal record. Not to mention the humiliation she was suffering.
Raina’s mind snapped to Calum. Was he that callous? Calculating? He hadn’t become vice president for lack of political skills. Those jobs were hard to get, and one had to play their cards just right to snag a promotion like that. Also noted was the fact that he was probably one of the youngest VPs—if not the youngest—in the company’s history.
Calum was climbing the ladder. Maybe, out of hurt, Layla had threatened to expose their relationship when she found out about the pregnancy. Layla had a temper. Not a fly-off-the-handle or say-something-she-regretted-in-the-moment kind of temper, but the slow, seething type. She definitely would have fired back at him.
Had she threatened to expose their relationship? With her skills, she could have hacked into his computer system and found all kinds of dirt on him.
Calum was a definite possibility. So was his wife.
What about Stuart? He was certainly a creep. Her skin crawled just thinking about him. He’d had a thing for Raina and—she was pretty certain—one for Layla too. He was nerdy and she never really trusted him. Knowing Layla, she would have put him in his place if he hit on her.