Forgotten Sins sb-1 Page 14

  His nostrils flared. His breath panted out. He slid out and slammed back in, his eyes glittering, his hand in her hair. Keeping her in place. The headboard smashed against the wall.

  Hard and fast he thrust, taking them both higher and hotter than ever he’d permitted himself to go with her, taking him beyond his keen rein. An unbelievable ball of heat uncoiled fiercely within her. This was more than sex—more than man and woman. He was all male, taking a female. Her heart hammered with the knowledge, and she clasped her ankles at his back.

  Close, she was so close. Her eyes shut. Electricity zapped through her. With a sharp cry, she broke, ripping through the waves.

  He pounded harder, faster, finally grinding against her and murmuring her name in that deep Southern drawl as he came.

  She relaxed back into the bed, her mind spinning. He’d lost control. The darkness hid her trembling lips. Maybe things could be different this time. Though, as her heartbeat slowed and reality returned, she had to wonder. Was that a good thing?

  Chapter 14

  If her personal life wasn’t a big enough mess, her professional life was blown to bits the next morning. A tornado had ripped through her office. Josie sucked in air, her head pounding. “How did this happen?” Shredded papers covered the floor. File folders had been torn, spreadsheets ripped in two. Cabinets teetered empty and overturned. Anything breakable… broken. She bent down to finger the shards of a ceramic vase she’d made during one outing with Vicki. Of course, Vicki had gone to the art studio to flirt with the owner, but Josie had enjoyed creating the vase and then painting the dramatic colors all over the sides.

  She avoided the desk. What she’d let Shane do to her on that desk—

  “I don’t know. The police were here for hours earlier to process everything and look for prints.” Shelia bent to pick up a pile of papers. “They said we can clean up now.”

  Josie glanced behind Vicki. The rest of the tenth floor didn’t look any better. Whoever had torn through the CPA firm’s space had done so with a vengeance. “Thanks for calling me.” She’d been at Trenton Industries going through their files all morning.

  Johnston stalked down the hall, his normally pleasant face set in hard lines. “Anything missing?”

  Josie shrugged. “No clue yet.”

  He shook his head, a muscle ticking in his massive jaw. “We have financial records for some of the largest corporations in the country. If any of that information went public—”

  “But those are locked away, aren’t they?” Josie frowned. This appeared to be vandalism.

  Her boss breathed out. “They got into everything. The vault, the computers… they even took three laptops.” He tilted his head at someone behind her. “Detective.”

  Oh, come on. It couldn’t be. Josie pivoted, plastering a smile on her face. “Detective Malloy. How nice to see you.”

  The detective raised a bushy eyebrow. “Mrs. Dean.” He gestured toward the small conference room. “You’re the only one I haven’t spoken with yet. Shall we?”

  Josie straightened her peach-colored silk suit and followed Malloy into the room. Thank goodness her husband was a master at breaking and entering. He’d retrieved more clothes for her earlier that morning from her home. Maybe it was time to go back home.

  Malloy shut the door, waiting until Josie settled into a plush leather chair before he did the same. “Do you know if anything is missing yet?” He flipped open his tattered notebook on the gleaming dark mahogany table.

  “No.” Josie studied the cop. He had to be, what? Mid-forties? Today he’d worn another wrinkled brown suit, his tie a striped pink. “I like your tie.”

  He glanced up, a faint tinge of color sliding across his pale skin. “Thanks. It was a gift.” Dark circles bagged under his eyes, and Josie fought guilt. The guy was sleep-deprived from chasing Shane. He wouldn’t find Shane.

  “Well, the colors are very nice.” She clasped her hands on the table. “So, um, you investigate every crime that comes up?”

  “Nope. Just anything related to you right now.” Malloy’s smile lacked charm.

  Well, wasn’t that just terrific? “This has nothing to do with Shane.”

  “We’ll see about that, won’t we?” Malloy tapped his pen against the notebook.

  Yeah, they would see about that. Josie crossed her legs. “My boss said the computers had been hacked and the vault broken open.”

  “Yep. Whoever did this was looking for something.” Intelligent brown eyes focused on her face. “Any idea what?”

  “No.” Josie shrugged. “We have varied financial information for banks, corporations, nonprofits… you name it. I guess they might’ve been looking for that.”

  “I think this has something to do with your husband.”

  A chill swept through her. “I don’t see what.” She spoke the truth. The timing sucked, but Shane had nothing to do with her business. Never had.

  “I’d like to verify that myself.”

  She widened her eyes, going for innocent. Probably looked like a clown. “Shane’s gone, Detective. I assume he went back to his military buddies.” The clock on the credenza ticked a quiet countdown until angry clients showed up demanding answers. She hoped this had nothing to do with Shane. Or with her. “If I could help you, I would. Besides, he didn’t kidnap me. He hasn’t broken any laws.” The smile she flashed trembled on her lips.

  “So Major Dean signed the divorce papers?”

  Thunder rolled outside. Josie took a deep breath. “No. He didn’t sign. I’ll have to go forward on my own.” But would she? What if they stood a chance this time? Concern had her biting her lip. What if she was making a huge mistake? Her stomach tightened. What if the whole mess did have something to do with Shane? She swallowed several times.

  “I see.” The detective pushed back from the thick table and stood. “I’d appreciate it if you contact me once you discover if any files are missing.” Three long strides had his bulky body at the door. “Or if you hear from your husband, of course.”

  “Of course.” Josie stood on shaking legs, smoothing her face into a pleasant expression. The ability to do so had helped her navigate the foster care system without many problems. Her mind reeled, searching for answers. This had to be random. But it was an odd coincidence that Shane was in town and things had started to go south.

  She’d taken only one step into the hall when Mr. Johnston hailed her. “Josie, Dr. Phillips from Fuller Labs and his colleague are in the large conference room waiting for you.”

  Josie nodded, swiveling around and hustling toward the west wall. She entered the conference room, smiling and extending a hand to the fifty-something scientist. He took her hand in a strong grip, his faded green eyes twinkling. “So. You need a new housekeeper.”

  Josie laughed, moving to sit at the head of the marble table, her gaze on the woman sitting quietly next to Dr. Phillips. “Hi, I’m Josie Dean.”

  “Dr. Madison.” Low and cultured, the tone spoke of Ivy League degrees. She could be anywhere from forty to fifty with flawless porcelain skin, dark hair, and eyes the deepest of blue. Intelligent eyes took Josie’s every measure. “I’m in town from our DC branch.”

  Dr. Phillips dropped into a chair with a groan.

  Josie smoothed her hair back. “I’m afraid someone ransacked our offices looking for some type of financial information on our clients.”

  Dr. Madison sniffed. “That’s what we understand. As you can imagine, we’re quite concerned about client confidentiality.”

  “Yes.” Josie calculated the materials in her files. The lab worked in everything from reproductive technology to cellular research for genetic diseases. “But all of my information is financial. We have no access to patient names, medical data, or anything protected by the new privacy laws. Just your grant applications, payments, and bottom line.”

  “So even if there were payments from patients, those payments would be listed anonymously?” Dr. Madison wrinkled her brow, her chin lifting,
her tone cultured and condescending.

  Josie stamped down irritation. “Yes. Your organization assigns a number to a patient, and we just get that number in our files.” The doctor appeared unfamiliar with the process. “If you don’t mind my asking, what field do you work in with Fuller Labs?”

  A fine eyebrow arched. “I’m a clinical neuropsychologist with a specialty in psychoneuroimmunology.”

  Well now. That was a mouthful. “So. Brain. Psychology. The interaction of the central nervous system, psychological processes with the body’s immune system.” The doctor wasn’t the only person in the room who’d gone to college.

  Madison smiled a perfect row of small white teeth. “In a simple nutshell, yes.”

  Annoyance swirled in Josie’s temples, so she widened her smile. “Sounds fascinating.” Arrogant, snotty know-it-all. She met the doctor’s gaze head-on, allowing both confidence and humor to show on her face. Years of dealing with people who considered themselves better than a lost kid often came in handy with handling bullies. “I’m surprised you have time to delve into the accounting side of the business.”

  The smile slid off the doctor’s face. “While my work is far more important than simply adding numbers, I do wish to protect our clients.” She picked invisible lint off her designer suit. “Which is why I’m quite concerned with the obvious breach of protocol here.”

  Josie forced herself to remain calm. “Breach?”

  “Yes.” Madison clicked her tongue. “We expect our financial information to be protected and safe. Apparently your firm is not up to the task.”

  Dr. Phillips patted Madison’s china doll hand with his large, gnarled one. “Now Dr. Madison, let’s not be hasty.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sure our records are safe.”

  Josie nodded, shifting her focus to him. “Of course. Since we didn’t have any client information to begin with, there’s absolutely no risk of a breach. Plus, I’m confident the police will find whoever broke into our offices.” Something in her would’ve truly enjoyed punching the snotty woman in the face. Just once. Or maybe twice.

  A whisper of sound echoed before Daniel poked his head around the thick door. “Sorry. I just need the conference room when you’re finished.” His trimmed brown hair appeared slightly ruffled, but his gaze was calm.

  Dr. Madison leaned forward. “You’re Daniel Mission.”

  Dan frowned, stepping inside and smoothing down his power tie. The red tie contrasted nicely with the navy suit. “Yes, er…”

  “Dr. Madison of Fuller Labs.” The woman flashed a smile. “You handle the accounts for Genevieve Trogart, who is a friend of mine.”

  Understanding smoothed out Dan’s frown. “Yes. The Trogart Corporation has been my client for about two years.” He smiled, all charm. “In fact, I just got off the phone with Genny—she was anxious about the break-in.”

  Dr. Madison’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me the Trogart files were taken?”

  “No.” Dan shook his head. “I keep my files on a flash drive that’s with me at all times. No hard copies, nothing on the laptops I leave at work. Of course.”

  Irritation had Josie’s hands drawing into fists. “That’s not firm policy.”

  “Yet it’s a good one now, isn’t it?” Dr. Madison drawled, her gaze all but shining on Dan. “I’ll bet all of your clients are very happy right now.”

  “Yes.” Dan returned the admiring glance. “It was nice to have met you.” With a nod at Josie, he pivoted and disappeared from view.

  Dr. Phillips pushed back his chair and stood, assisting Madison up. “We should get going. Don’t worry, Josie. I’m sure they’ll find the criminals. Please keep us informed.”

  Josie stood, dread mixing with irritation along her shoulders. “Well, I hope I’ve been able to reassure you a little bit. We, of course, will be in contact when we figure out if anything was taken.”

  Dr. Madison glided toward the door. “I would hope so. Until that time, I should inform you I’ll be discussing alternative firms with our Board of Directors. Or maybe just different accountants.” She headed down the hallway toward the elevator.

  “Ignore her,” Dr. Phillips whispered with a wink. “She should be returning to DC any day.” He shook Josie’s hand in a warm grip.

  Josie walked him to the elevator. If Dan had just stolen her client, she’d beat him senseless. He’d get the promotion for sure if that had just happened. Doubt swirled in her brain. There was no doubt most of them would lose clients now… everyone except Daniel. She shook her head at the bizarre thought. Now she was seeing conspiracies everywhere.

  With a huff, she returned to her office, where Vicki still attempted to put everything into order.

  “Josie,” Tom said, striding from the reception area to grab her arms. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” She looked up to his frowning face. “I’m fine. They destroyed the entire floor, though.” And she may have just lost her biggest client to his basketball buddy.

  He stepped back, running a rough hand through his thick brown hair. “I just heard. The police are on my floor asking if anyone noticed anything.” His sigh stirred the air with mint. “You worked late last night, and I was afraid—”

  “No, no.” She reached out to grab his strong arms. “I was long gone. Really. I’m fine.” He was such a good guy. Why couldn’t she have felt more for him? “I appreciate the concern, though.”

  He nodded, his eyes narrowing. “How did you get to work? Did the police bring you?”

  “No.” She hated lying to him. “The police found my car and returned it to me.”

  He stepped back. “Did you say a while ago that Dean stole your car?”

  A blush crept up her face, heating her skin. “No. I said I let him borrow it.”

  “Josie.” Tom shook his head, his lips tightening. “Dean’s dangerous. You know it. Break free now, before it’s too late.” Concern deepened the lines that bracketed his mouth.

  Josie forced a smile. “I have. He’s gone.” The lie nearly stuck in her throat all the more now that she knew there was no possibility of a future with Tom. Right or wrong, she’d always love Shane.

  Tom sighed, reaching out to run a finger down the side of her face. “I care about you. Let me help.”

  Tom. So solid and strong. She stepped back this time. “I’m a big girl. Thanks for the concern, though. It really does mean the world to me.”

  “Hey, boss,” Vicki interrupted from her perch by Josie’s phone. “You have about thirty messages. Word has gotten out, and clients need reassurance.”

  Josie nodded. “I have to go, Tom.”

  His smile was tinged with sadness. “I know. Bye, Josie.”

  * * *

  By seven that evening, Josie’s head pounded, her feet ached, and she’d bitten her nails to the quick. She needed a manicure, bad. She’d met with five clients and spent the rest of the time on the phone reassuring others that their financial information was safe. Hopefully.

  She tightened her grip on the handset of the telephone. “I understand that, Mr. Larson.” First Billy screwed up their deductions and now this. “You need to understand, I had your file with me last night. The people who destroyed our offices didn’t get any of your information.”

  “I have your assurance on this?” The man’s tone quickened in agitation.

  “Of course.” She sighed. “We should probably meet next week and go through the documents.” There was a good chance Larson might sue the CPA firm once she brought Billy’s mistakes to his attention. He’d probably win. “I’ll call you soon to set something up.” She hung up after tense good-byes.

  She grabbed the manila files to drop off at The Pound, a local bar she hoped would keep her as its accountant. The owner had been quite concerned about the break-in, and she’d spent fifteen minutes reassuring him via the phone. She’d also promised to drop by the notes she’d jotted down for creating a new benefits plan for his employees.

  Her cell phone buzzed and she
read the screen. Shane waited outside. Time to go. He’d assured her they’d only have to stay at the motel for a couple more nights, and then she could go home. Apparently he thought he’d be able to find out who was after him by then.

  Would he want to stay at her home then? Did she want him to? The question really came down to whether or not she trusted him, and whether or not he wanted to try to make it work. How could they do either until his memories returned? Her head started to ache.

  Grabbing her files and handbag, she hurried toward the elevator, waving at Johnston in his office as she passed. Man, he was angry. Nobody messed with his clients.

  The elevator rode smoothly to the bottom floor. She dodged outside into the chill of dusk, and she tightened her coat, taking a deep breath. The scent of decaying leaves contrasted with the vibrant orange hue of leaves still on tree branches.

  Yet the air smelled dead.

  She couldn’t help the long shiver that shook her shoulders. The world was suddenly too quiet. Steeling her shoulders, she forced herself to move toward her parking spot, the hair on the back of her neck standing up. Shane was there somewhere, watching her. Her body responded just because he was near. Who knew that desire and warning could comingle?

  A figure moved away from the building and grabbed her arm. She yelped, jerking back. “Tom. What are you doing?”

  He frowned. “Sorry, Josie. I really am.” The wind tousled his hair even more than usual. He tightened his grip and began to drag her back to the office building’s main door.

  Daniel had just opened the door and he froze, both eyebrows raised.

  She struggled. “What’s happening? Let go of me.”

  “I will in a minute,” Tom hissed, jerking harder. “I swear, you’re as bad as my sisters. Don’t you gals ever think?”

  Another figure stepped out of the shadows. “Let her go, Marsh.”

  Shane. Thank goodness. Tom yanked her behind his back.

  She stumbled in her heels, grabbing his flannel shirt to keep from falling on the concrete.

  “Freeze!” A male voice bellowed as a man wearing a black vest labeled SWAT jumped into range. Vehicles screeched, and sirens yowled as emergency vehicles skidded into the lot.