Ellie Ashe - Miranda Vaughn 02 - Dropping the Dime (13 page)

"I had to pretend to leave," she said. "Mr. Leonidis seemed to be waiting for me to go."

"He's still here," I said. "He came down to the basement. So did Milo."

She exhaled a frustrated sigh. "I'm so sorry. They didn't see you?"

I shook my head. "No. Milo was looking though some boxes, but he got interrupted by Mr. Leonidis. Then they went back up to their meeting. But I couldn't find anything about the payments. I saw the old check registers, but it didn't look like any checks were cut to this company, and there weren't any electronic transfers that looked like this. Maybe I started too far back in time. I didn't get up to 2008. Is any of this computerized? That might make my search easier."

She shook her head. "Mr. Leonidis doesn't trust computers. We do some things electronically, but he wants a paper backup for everything." She paused and bit her lip. "Does the FBI think I'm the one embezzling the money?"

"I don't think they suspect you of stealing," I said. "They just need to corroborate what you're telling them. And so far, they're coming up empty."

"But they pulled all my bank records. They knew about my investment," she said, her voice shaking. "Why would they do that?"

"Because they're suspicious by nature," I said. "We just need to focus on finding something to take to them that will show you're not involved with whatever Simon Leonidis is up to."

"But what if they arrest me? Oh, my God. What if Mr. Leonidis blames me? Everyone will believe him. I'll go to prison. I'm an informant. I ratted him out, dropped the dime. I'm a snitch, Miranda. Do you know what happens to snitches in prison?"

"Whoa, there, calm down. That's not going to happen."

She wiped at her eyes quickly, but I saw the wetness on her cheeks. "I thought I was doing the right thing by going to the authorities," she whispered.

My voice caught in my throat, and I put a hand on her arm. I knew that feeling. Way too well.

"Kathryn, I believe you. We'll figure this out."

She nodded again.

"Where else does Leonidis keep company records, if not in his office or in the archives?" I asked.

She sniffed. "In his home office. He works there sometimes."

"Can you get in there? Look around?"

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. "I've only been to his house a couple of times and in his home office just once. But maybe you could…"

I squinted at her as her voice trailed off. "What? How?"

"The Leonidis family's foundation is having its annual fund-raiser next weekend. I'll be there to run the auction. I could get you the key to his office ,and you could get upstairs—"

"You want me to break into his office? While he's there? With a hundred guests? That's a terrible idea!"

"Oh, way more than that. There's like three-hundred guests, plus a lot of catering staff and volunteers for the auction," she said. "Don't you see? It'd be perfect. There's so many people at the house, no one would notice you."

I frowned. "No way. No. I am drawing the line at breaking and entering," I said, conveniently not mentioning the possible breaking and entering I'd just committed.

Kathryn nodded, but even in the dark I could see the doubt in her expression. "Of course," she said softly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have even suggested it. I don't want you to get in trouble."

I smiled. "Burton's working on tracking down Acadia Street, Inc. He and Sarah are really good at this. We'll find a way. A legal way. I promise."

But as I watched Kathryn walk dejectedly back to her car, I wondered how I'd keep that promise.

Two nights later, I sat in the fading light of the evening and watched the parking lot exit at the Leonidis corporate office. Cars flicked on their headlights and left in a steady flow, turning onto the main boulevard that led to the freeway, the lights reflecting off the wet pavement. As the sun set and the light disappeared, the air in the Golf Ball grew chilled, and I pulled my parka around me.

I had parked across the parking lot, so I could watch the side of the building where Kathryn worked. She was working later than anyone else in the office, if the lights in the building were any indication. The little squares went dark one after another, but one in the middle, where I knew Kathryn was working, stayed bright.

It had been a whim to come out to the office park to wait for Kathryn. She wasn't expecting me, but that was a tip that I'd picked up from Burton. He rarely made appointments to talk to people who he thought might be difficult. If you called ahead, that gave them time to anticipate what you wanted to talk about and prepare a response. I needed to talk to Kathryn, and I needed her to be honest with me.

I'd spent the afternoon looking more closely at the documents she'd given us when we'd first met. Now that I had more of an idea how construction finance worked, I studied the files in a different light. The books were in good order, and so my eye hadn't caught the discrepancy the first time, but now that I knew more, something caught my eye. I didn't tell Rob or Sarah about it, though, because I didn't want them to think I was suspicious of Kathryn.

But I was.

There was something weird on the escrow documents—and if anyone could straighten it out, it was Kathryn. Unfortunately, she was also the ideal person to devise a way to skim just a little cash off each transaction.

Not wanting to jump to that conclusion, I had called Mark Ramsey to see if he could answer my questions about the escrow procedures for Leonidis Developments. The former CFO was nice enough to take my call, but he didn't remember any specifics that would help me sort out what was going on. So that meant I needed to confront Kathryn.

I rubbed my hands together to warm my icy fingers.

"Should have stopped for coffee," I said out loud to the empty car. I reached for the ignition to run the heater, and sighed with relief when I saw the last light on the third floor go dark. "Thank God."

I waited to get out of the car until I saw the building's side exit open, not wanting to get out in the crisp evening air until I had to.

A woman slipped out of the door, and there was enough light to illuminate her tight dress that showed off an hourglass figure and long legs. Her hair was piled on her head in a sexy up-do and in the dramatic light of the overhead security lamp, her red lips and dark-lined eyes stood out against alabaster skin.

It took me a moment to realize it was Kathryn.

She wobbled a little in the heels as she navigated the parking lot and gave the skirt a tug before she unlocked her car.

I stood frozen, the door to the Golf Ball wide open as I watched my transformed client slide into her car.

What the hell?

My confusion turned immediately to panic.

What the hell was she up to?

I scrambled back into my car as Kathryn backed out of her parking space and then headed toward the main street. As the Golf Ball sputtered back to life, the memory of Kathryn and Simon Leonidis rolling around on his desk filled my mind. Was she going to meet him? She had to be meeting someone, dressed like that.

Where was the cardigan? The long corduroy skirts? The thick-framed glasses?

I didn't turn on my headlights until I saw Kathryn make a right turn out of the parking lot, then I raced to follow her. She was a careful driver who signaled all her turns and braked for yellow lights, so it wasn't hard to tail her. Still, I stayed as far back as I could so she wouldn't notice someone behind her. It was so easy to follow her that my thoughts drifted, and her sudden left turn caught me by surprise. I had to stomp on the brakes and yank the wheel so I didn't miss the intersection. The Golf Ball hit a patch of wet pavement and fishtailed, but righted and I aimed again at the sedan's taillights ahead, my breathing fast and my pulse racing with adrenaline.

We were the only two cars on a residential street, so I dropped back even farther from Kathryn's car. Her brake lights flashed, then she turned right and disappeared. I crept closer and saw the car pulling into a driveway, the garage door opening as she waited. I drove by slowly, craning my neck to see if there was anyone walking out to greet her, but I didn't see anyone before the garage door began its descent.

At the end of the block, I made a U-turn and parked across the street from the house Kathryn had entered. I was pretty sure it wasn't hers because we had talked about her condominium complex when I mentioned looking for a new place to live. The lights were on in the house, but the curtains were pulled, and I couldn't see inside. I parked and sat quietly, trying to figure out what to do.

I could go knock on the door, but I had no idea who would answer. What if it was Simon Leonidis? What if he recognized me as the cleaning lady who busted up his tryst with Kathryn?

I could go home and call Kathryn tomorrow to talk about the Leonidis books.

Or I could wait a while longer and see if she or someone else walked outside.

My curiosity got the best of me, and I turned off the engine and the lights and stared at the house. It was a typical, stucco-covered tract home, designed to blend in with the rest of the neighborhood. I didn't recognize the subdivision as a Leonidis Development subdivision. The house sat back from the street behind a patch of green grass. A tidy hedge separated a curving path from the driveway to the front porch. A row of solar-powered decorative lamps flickered to life as the last bit of daylight faded to black.

I sighed and settled back into my seat. There was still no movement from the house. The neighbors came home, drove directly into their garages, and then the lights came on inside. I sank down as another vehicle passed me, its headlights illuminating the interior of the Golf Ball. It slowed and then the door rose on the same garage that Kathryn had entered.

I sat up straight and leaned forward, trying to catch sight of the driver, but the vehicle, a black truck, parked inside and the door closed before its driver was revealed.

"Damn it," I hissed, gripping the steering wheel.

I checked the time on my phone and saw that it was just six o'clock. My stomach growled, and I dug through the center console for a stray energy bar or even a mint, but I came up empty. I slurped up the last of the diet soda in the extra large plastic cup and rattled the ice.

This was ridiculous
.
What was I doing here?

Then I thought about Kathryn, dolled up beyond recognition. Maybe I could stay just ten more minutes.

A noise outside caught my attention on the passenger side and then a dark shape blocked the side window. My heart leapt into my throat as the person tapped on the glass and then peered in.

"Jesus!" I exhaled and leaned over to unlock the door to let Jake Barnes into the car. "What are you going? You nearly scared me to death!"

"Me? What are you doing here?"

I stared at him in the dark. He filled half the car and his broad shoulders rubbed up against mine in the narrow confines of the Golf Ball. His presence, something I'd craved for so long and thought of so often, nearly distracted me from his question.

"Miranda, what are you doing here?" he asked again.

I frowned, trying to come up with an answer that didn't implicate Kathryn. I couldn't very well tell him that I suspected her of embezzling from her employer, the person she had turned the FBI loose on.

"Probably the same thing you're doing here," I said.

Jake raised an eyebrow and studied me.

"You knew of this address?" he asked.

I shrugged. Jake leaned back and ran a hand through his hair. My hands curled into fists at the memory of my own fingers slipping through those strands. I swallowed hard and looked away.

"Didn't expect to find you here," he said.

Even his voice made my body quiver.

"Just following up on something," I said, hoping my voice didn't sound as nervous as I suspected it did. I tried to tell myself that the slight quaver was from the aftermath of the adrenaline rush, but even I didn't buy that.

"Well, you might want to have Burton teach you something about surveillance. You're parked right in front of the house. I spotted you right away. Do you want Leonidis to see you?"

The mention of the name made my stomach drop.
Damn it
. I knew Kathryn was lying about something, but I really hoped it wasn't some extra-curricular activity with her boss. What was she up to? Why turn him into the feds if she was having an affair with him?

And was I right about the money, too?

Across the street, the garage door began to rise and saved me from answering Jake's question. We both leaned forward as the door slowly revealed Kathryn coming out of the house and into the garage, her coat folded over her arm. She opened the rear door on the driver's side and set her coat and purse on the backseat, then climbed into the driver's seat and started the car.

"Whoa," Jake said, his voice low. "Is that Kathryn?"

"Yes," I whispered, not wanting to voice the admission.

"What the hell is she doing here?"

His voice was louder, but still hushed, as if the woman across the street would be able to hear us talking in the car with all the windows rolled up.

A man came out of the house and locked the door behind him, then put a bag in the trunk of the car.

It was my turn to be shocked, and my gasp filled the car as Alexi Leonidis slammed the trunk shut, then helped Kathryn out of the driver's seat and walked her around to the passenger side of the car. The youngest Leonidis son opened the door for Kathryn, then held her at arm's length and smiled, looking her over from the tips of her high heels to the low neckline of the dress. Kathryn shifted uncomfortably and looked down, but Alexi pulled her close and raised her chin, then he gave her a lingering kiss and her body language relaxed.

"Holy shit," I breathed.

"Who were you expecting?" Jake asked.

"I—uh, I mean. She's dating Alexi? I thought—uh, what about Simon Leonidis? She was just kissing Alexi's dad."

Jake exhaled deeply. "Yeah, this is turning into a Greek tragedy."

And like the old Greek classics, it made for riveting entertainment. I felt like a voyeur, but couldn't take my eyes off the couple. Alexi's dark hair and warm tanned skin complemented Kathryn's fair complexion and russet hair. They were nearly the same height, since Kathryn was wearing a pair of stiletto heels with her curve-hugging dress, and they'd have looked at home in the lobby of a five-star hotel, heading up to a penthouse apartment for a secret assignation.

After helping Kathryn into the car, Alexi climbed into the driver's seat and backed the car out of the garage.

"Get ready," Jake said.

"For what?"

He nodded toward the garage door, starting to close as the sedan backed onto the street.

"To follow them," he said.

"Oh. Right." I started the Golf Ball, but left the lights off. When Kathryn's car was about halfway down the block, Jake nodded, and I pulled away from the curb. The traffic light at the end of the street turned green, and I sped up to make sure I didn't lose Alexi and Kathryn.

"Stay back," Jake said. "I'll keep an eye on the car. We won't lose them."

I relaxed a little, knowing I had a partner in surveillance now, and we cruised through the light as it turned yellow. Jake directed me to stay in the left lane. An SUV between their car and the Golf Ball blocked my view.

"How much gas do you have?" Jake asked.

"I filled up yesterday," I said. "Why?"

The SUV lurched forward, and I followed and realized that we were getting on the freeway. "We might be on the road for a while," Jake said. "Hope you didn't have plans."

I snuck a look at him, but he was staring straight ahead, his eyes on the taillights in the distance. Had I been mistaken at the tone in his voice?

"Why were you watching Alexi?" I asked, my eyes back on the road rather than on Jake's profile.

"That company that Kathryn invested in? KAL, Inc.? It's his company," Jake said.

Damn it, Kathryn had lied about that, too. Was she framing Simon Leonidis for fraud while sleeping with his son? That was sleazy but didn't seem at all like Kathryn. Of course, I only knew the Kathryn with the bulky sweaters and frumpy shoes, not the one with the fuck-me pumps and bright red lips.

"Did you know that?" Jake asked, and I glanced toward him. Now he was staring at me, his face impassive, but I sensed the distrust in his voice.

"Of course not," I said. Then I stopped talking because technically, Kathryn was a client and I had to protect the attorney-client confidentiality.

We traveled in silence for a few more minutes, following Kathryn's car east out of the city and toward the mountains. The traffic grew lighter, and I dropped back so it didn't look like I was tailing her.