He grits his teeth. “Fuck you.”
I smile. “Hey, you too.”
When I open the door, security is standing there where I told them to wait and I say, “Show him off the property and make sure his name and picture are added to the black list.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Barrett.”
I don’t look back because they know what they’re doing. Eli has upped the game and security is solid after what happened to Jen last year. My phone rings as I step inside the elevator. “Hey.”
“You filing a restraining order?” Eli asks.
“As soon as I get back to my office.”
“What was that last part?” he goes on. “When you went all sentimental on him?”
I smile and step off the elevator onto the executive floor. “Just wishing him well, Pettit. What else would I do?”
I hear him huff over the phone before he drawls, “Shit.”
“Gotta go. I’ve got a restraining order to draw up and then a meeting with your future wife. I’m gonna need a copy of that video.”
“Done.”
And we both hang up without a goodbye because we both have shit to do.
24
Good Cop, Bad Cop
When someone stabs you in the back, give ‘em a good nudge with the toe of your boot and move on with life.
Ellie
Standing at the entrance to my building that houses my studio and Statum Security and Investigations, I force myself to shove all the drama out of my head and appreciate the magic that’s coming together like good choreography.
I love all kinds of dance and at one time, I was good. Damn good. I didn’t even stick around to graduate from Juilliard when I had the opportunity to join a company on Broadway.
I might not be damn good anymore since I don’t practice daily, but I am good enough to teach and I’ve cased-out my competition. Quite honestly, I’m not worried.
My mother forced it down my throat and made me stick with it when I was a teenager and didn’t want to put in the twenty-plus hours a week it required. But for once, I’m grateful for my parents’ overbearing ways. To have this to call my own was worth it.
“It looks so good,” Quinn says from beside me, admiring the enormous logo the painter just finished. I had all the old brick painted pitch-black and my sleek, modern logo shines in bright-white. “When you said big, I had no clue you meant big.”
“Something to learn about the Montgomerys, sweet, young Quinn. We were taught to go big or go home.” I smile and look up to the wall where the mural meets the ceiling of the second floor. “I’m just glad Eli wants to be incognito and the only signage he asked for was the small plaque on the door to his offices. I get the whole wall to myself and I’m thrilled with how it turned out.”
“I need you to sign the check for the painters and electrician, but I’ll hold the painters’ until they’re done, which should be tomorrow. Electrical is wrapping up now. And don’t forget, you have more interviews tomorrow for instructors. The classes you’ve posted are starting to fill up. I think you’ll be able to add more classes next session and we can get all the studios in use.”
I have to reach since Quinn has at least four or five inches on me to give her a side-hug. “I’m not sure what I’d do without you. This is hard enough without all the other shit going on in my life. When you told me you had a tiny bit of experience with some payroll software, you were really playing down your skills. You’re the shit and I’m lucky to have you.”
Quinn’s eyes shine bright as she smiles. “It’s the best job I’ve ever had—it doesn’t even feel like a job. I’m just lucky you hired me.”
My phone vibrates and I pull it out to see it’s Trig.
I go to answer but Quinn interrupts. “Hey, are you going to be able to do the walk-through with the electrician? They need you to test the lighting and give you some directions on the sound systems for each studio. They’re waiting. Do you mind?”
I send him to voicemail. “Yep, let’s get it done.”
Heading back through the front door, we walk down the long hall to Studio A. I can’t help the chill that runs down my spine every time I enter this room.
It’s been months but some days it doesn’t feel like it. There are days it feels like just yesterday that Robert orchestrated the plot against my family and almost killed Jen and me. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to teach a class in this room. I’ll make the schedules to be sure of it.
The light is shining bright through the big windows. That and the mirrors make the room feel ten times its size. If I didn’t know blood was once spilled on the concrete below my newly installed floors, it would be perfect.
The electrician is waiting on us when my phone vibrates again.
“We passed inspection this morning,” the electrician informs me as I ignore the call. “All we need to do is go through the punch list and sign all your paperwork. You’ll be good to go.”
“Hey,” Quinn looks at her watch before returning her eyes to me. “I’m going to get his check and send an email. I’ll be right back.”
“Thanks,” I offer but when my phone rings a third time in even fewer minutes, I say to the electrician, “I’m sorry. Can you hang on for just one second?”
He looks irritated, but shrugs. “I guess.”
Wow. It’s not like I’m not ready for him to be done, too. I hit go on my phone and ask, “Is there a fire?”
“Angel, answer your phone when I call,” Trig bites.
“Ellie!” I hear my name being called and run back to the hallway to see Eli stalking toward me.
“What’s going on?” I ask them both, my heart picking up speed as I hear Trig’s tone that matches Eli’s expression.
“The police are on their way to your house,” Eli clips at the same time Trig growls in my ear, “Get to your house, angel. Now.”
Quinn walks out of the office and her face falls when she lays eyes on me. “What’s wrong?”
“Griffin?” I gasp.
He’s at home with Chloe and has been since first thing this morning because we’re commuting between Faye’s house and mine daily.
My stomach drops and I must not move fast enough because Eli closes the distance between us and puts a hand to my back to give me a push. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”
Trig keeps on. “Go with Eli. I was on my way back from a meeting and turned around. I’m almost to your house.”
Shit.
I ignore Quinn and my electrician and almost collide with one of my painters on the way to the parking lot, running as fast as I can to get to my son.
* * *
Trig
I hand Griffin another one because, what the hell. He’s already got cookie mush all over my suit jacket, dress shirt, and tie. At this point, he can eat the whole box for all I care, as long as he doesn’t cry or shit his diaper before Ellie gets here.
“Don’t fucking move. I’ll take you down one-handed while holding a baby and enjoy doing it.”
My mother would have a fit if she heard me threatening a woman while cussing in front of a baby. But if Griffin repeats it I can easily blame it on Ellie with her mouth. He tries to shove his half-mauled cookie in my mouth as he laughs, probably waiting for me to whip out a hot french fry since that’s become our thing. He’s obviously a smart kid since he knows I’ll give him the good stuff and not broccoli, avocado, and everything else the color green his mom keeps shoving at him.
When I got here five minutes ago, I was surprised she opened the door for me but that made it easier. As soon as Griffin laid eyes on me, he squealed and crawled for me at a pace that would make any Olympian proud but, for me, it just felt fucking good. I’ve done what I set out to do—and in a short timeframe—win over Ellie’s son with junk food, toys, and my time. Once I settled on this strategy, I cleared the toy section at Target and threw the bags in the back of my car. He gets something new when I see him every night and I’m all of a sudden Santa Claus. Ellie told me I needed to
stop, but she did it with a big fucking smile on her face. Like I’d stop anyway.
“Your mom will be here soon, bud. Until then, we’ll have some guy time.”
Griffin yanks at my tie with his sticky fingers and grins with his mouth full, down with my plan as long as I keep feeding him cookies.
I wipe the cookie mush off me and drag my hand down Griffin’s shirt since he’s already a mess and glare at Ellie’s fucking babysitter who just sat her ass back down on the sofa. Her face is streaked with pathetic tears and she’s tried to get out the front door twice.
“I’m sorry,” the chick cries—I can’t even remember her name but I will soon when I start building a file on her, too. “I’m so sorry. I’d never let anything happen to Griffin. I swear!”
“Sit down and shut up,” I repeat.
I’m pissed I didn’t think of it sooner—hell, I even mentioned her in Ellie’s court hearing yesterday. But Ellie loves her, trusts her, and I’ve seen her with Griffin. She’s good with him and there was no reason to question her. She flew under the damn radar—until today.
She fucked up.
The front door flies open and Ellie comes rushing in but as soon as she sees Griffin, she stutters to a stop. Her bright blue eyes become glossy as they shift between her son and me right before she drops her face into her hands.
“Baby,” I call for her and she shakes her head, not looking up at me. “It’s all good now.”
“Ma-ma!” Griffin calls for her and she lifts her tear-stained face to us. I hold my arm out and she moves right to my chest where her relieved tears soak into my already-trashed shirt and tie.
“Ellie!” the babysitter starts and I hold her tighter because I hear sirens as the police pull up to her house. “I can explain!”
Griffin doesn’t care about the shitshow taking place and yanks at his mom’s hair—spreading his cookie love around equally—but Ellie loves it. She looks up at him in my arms and her smile is genuine when she lifts to her toes to kiss his filthy face. “Hey, baby.”
“She’s in here.” Eli enters the room with the three officers on his tail and he points to the lying, sack-of-shit, backstabbing babysitter. “I’ve got photographic proof of Carl and Teresa Ketteman handing over what looks to be illegally-obtained prescription drugs, along with an envelope of cash, about forty-five minutes ago outside of the Hotel Crescent Court. You can start your search, but I’m confident both items will be here.”
“You okay?” I ask and Ellie tilts her face up. I see nothing but horror in her eyes for what’s gone down today. “Eli’s guy said as soon as he saw her with Griffin in the car, he followed so close, there’s no way he could’ve lost them. He needed to let it happen to get the evidence we needed. He was on the phone with Eli the whole time giving him the play-by-play. Eli’s guy was stationed outside until I got here.”
Ellie shakes her head and exhales, looking over her shoulder at the babysitter who we now know was working for Robert’s parents. As soon as they fingerprint her, we should be able to pin her with planting the weed in Ellie’s drawer, since she wasn’t smart enough to wipe down the bag.
“I can’t believe it,” Ellie breathes before turning back to me. “Thank you for getting here when you did. I feel so stupid.”
What I don’t tell her is they also have footage of the Kettemans getting Griffin out of his car seat, passing him back and forth between the two of them as he cried since they were strangers to him. For the simple fact I don’t want to be defending Ellie for assault and battery on her babysitter, I decide to withhold that little bit of information until tonight when we’re alone.
She puts her hands out for Griffin. “Come to Mama and give me kisses.”
Griffin lurches into Ellie’s arms and she couldn’t care less what a mess he is. I, on the other hand, grab a towel and wipe away the goo.
For the next twenty minutes, Ellie, Griffin, Pettit, and I stand out of the way as the police question Chloe on her whereabouts, taking Griffin out of the house, her connection with Robert’s parents, and if she could explain the video taken of her as she accepted money and an unlabeled bottle of prescription drugs from the Kettemans.
They didn’t even need to go good cop, bad cop on her. She folded—more like fell apart—as soon as she saw the evidence mounted against her. They took her down faster than a prize fighter and she dragged the Kettemans with her. She babbled on about how they approached her and she needed the extra money and she didn’t see any harm in it since they seemed like nice enough people.
Stupid bitch.
But if she talks and cooperates, doing all she can to lessen her own charges—which she’d be stupid not to—Dr. Carl Ketteman could be in a shitload of trouble. Even more so than for framing their dead son’s widow with some weed. If the controlled substance the police found in Ellie’s bathroom drawer hidden under a huge stack of towels is traced back to him, the DEA will become involved. And given they aren’t keen on shit like that since it’s really fucking illegal, the man stands to lose his license to practice medicine.
Let’s just say the Kettemans have a lot more to worry about than what their country-clubbing friends will think of them when this is all said and done. They’re fucked.
I stand between the woman who’s back in my bed where she belongs and the babysitter who’s being led out of this house in cuffs. I’m finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. I expect the CPS investigation on Ellie to be dropped and the Kettemans filing for grandparents visitation rights will dissolve into a puff of smoke by the end of business tomorrow, if not today.
Ellie doesn’t have a thing to worry about.
She’s in the clear.
Now that everyone is gone but the three of us, Griffin is crashing his toys into one another in a fashion that would make a demolition derby look like bumper cars, and Ellie flops down on my new favorite sofa.
I can’t lie, I wish she were naked.
Even though it’s barely after lunch, I’m not going back to work. Griffin should take a nap soon so I can call into my meetings from here. I don’t want to leave Ellie alone. And there’s the fact I’m covered in already-been-eaten vanilla wafers.
I shrug off my jacket and yank at the dirty tie that feels like a noose after all that went down today. I go to her, pick up her legs, and sit down next to her ass.
She’s got her eyes closed but I can tell she’s very much awake. “I hate them so much. Please tell me what they did was bad and they’ll get into tons of trouble.”
“Ellie.”
She looks to me.
“You don’t have anything else to worry about. They’re fuc—” I look over at Griffin and then back to her. “They’ve screwed themselves, especially if he wrote a fake script for those narcotics. You’ll be the last thing on their minds because he’s going to be dealing with federal charges from the DEA on top of filing false reports on you.”
She looks exhausted. “I guess that’s good.”
“It’s really good.” I stretch my arm out over the back of the sofa. “I know this was stressful, but if they’re going to be assholes, at least they messed up big enough that there’s no way any judge will allow them near Griffin—not after what they’ve done.”
“I still can’t believe it. Chloe was sweet and really good with Griff. Trig, she passed the background through the agency I hired her through. Some people will do anything for money.”
“Have Eli run a background next time. He’s good and thorough and will be a member of your family soon. He won’t allow you to hire anyone who isn’t completely trustworthy with Griff.”
She reaches up and entwines her fingers with mine. “I’m just ready for things to settle down, get back to normal—whatever the hell that looks like. It was hard enough before, but I don’t know who to trust after this. I’m opening a business and will have students in two weeks. I need child care.”
“Hattie?” I ask, though I still dread being around her parents.
She shakes her head, and f
rom the sound of it, she feels the same. “No way. Not on a daily basis. I need someone who will actually follow my directions. My mother does what she wants and doesn’t apologize for it.”
“You’ll figure it out and he’ll be fine. Not everyone can be bought and not everyone is out to get you.”
She rolls her eyes. “You say that after you filed a restraining order against your father today on my behalf. Right, no one else is out to get me.”
I told her about my dad’s visit yesterday. She deserves to know and she needs to be vigilant. She’s good at work with Eli there and he knows what’s going on. My dad played right into my hand when he came to visit me yesterday at MI. I’ve got proof he threatened Ellie and since her eye-witness account put him in jail ten years ago, no judge is going to take that lightly, and no parole officer is going to be okay with him getting a restraining order slapped on him right out of the slammer.
“I want you to be careful but I don’t want you to be scared. When it gets right down to it, I think he cares more about his freedom than he does retribution.”
She rubs her eyes. “I’m tired. I don’t have the energy to think about your dad right now. I will tomorrow but tonight I just need to forget about it all.”
Griffin crawls to the coffee table and pulls up, speaking in gibberish with a few balls, mamas, vrooms, and uh-ohs thrown in while banging the shit out of his toys.
“I left Quinn with all the contractors and Griffin needs to go down for a nap.” Ellie shifts and looks up at me. “I’m sure you’re sick of running off in the middle of the day because of my dramas. At least you work for my sister and she’s used to my shit—I doubt you’ll get fired.”
I take her hand and pull her onto my lap. “I’m pretty sure my job is safe and Jen would’ve been here too, if she weren’t out of town. Call your assistant. She seems capable, I’m sure she can manage. While you’re doing that, I’ll put Griffin to bed and then work from here for the rest of the day. But we’re going back to my mom’s tonight.”
Broken Halo: The Montgomery Series, Book 2 Page 23