Page 31 of Hotshot (Buchanan-Renard 11)

  “Why don’t we sit down and have a drink and talk about this,” Cassady suggested, his voice smooth as molasses now. “This kind of misunderstanding can ruin a business. I merely wanted to have a look at the projections so that I could make an informed bid. That’s all. And this pretty lady was helping me.”

  Debi was a pretty lady? Cassady needed to wear glasses, Peyton thought.

  “Let’s not call the police just yet, Finn. We’ll let Christopher handle this,” she said. Finn nodded and was opening the door for them to leave when she suddenly stopped. “Wait, I forgot something.” She turned to Debi, who was glaring at her, and said, “Has anyone ever told you what a horrible person you are? And toxic? As far as I’m concerned we are no longer related. I never want to see you or hear from you again. Oh, and you’re fired.”

  “I’m calling my father,” she shouted.

  The door had closed behind them, but Debi’s shrill voice came through loud and clear. Peyton nearly tripped when she heard her tell Cassady, “Don’t worry, hon. I can fix this. I always do.”

  THIRTY-TWO

  Peyton fumed all the way home over Debi’s treachery. “Did you hear her? She can fix this? It’s what she does? Oh my God, I wanted to scream. She really believes that, doesn’t she?”

  Her rants didn’t require Finn’s participation. He tried not to smile because he knew that would really set her off, but her outrage was a little amusing. She kept sputtering, so furious now her words tripped over one another.

  “I could tell you stories about some of the terrible things she did to Ivy and me when we were kids. She really is toxic. You heard me tell her so. Lucy’s going to be so upset when she finds out Debi did all that damage with those boots. Now, maybe she’ll stop making excuses for her. Enough already. Right? Finn, are you listening?”

  “Yes.”

  He didn’t say another word until they were back in her condo. Peyton had calmed down by then, but when she noticed all the messages on her phone, she groaned. “I’ve got eight messages,” she told Finn. She followed him into the kitchen and stood next to him while he searched through the refrigerator. “How many do you think are from Debi’s father?”

  “So soon?”

  “Oh yes, she would call him right away. God only knows what story she’d conjure up. Whatever it is, she’s the victim. Debi’s all about getting others to do her damage control. What are you looking for?”

  He was moving food around on the shelves. “I don’t know . . . something.” He pulled out some leftover chicken. “Maybe a sandwich.”

  “I’ll make dinner. How about spaghetti?”

  “Sounds good.”

  There was a container of her homemade sauce and meatballs in the freezer. She pulled it out and put it in the microwave. In the meantime, Finn made himself a huge sandwich to tide him over. He ate enough for three men and didn’t have an ounce of fat.

  Leaning against the counter, she said, “Let’s not tell Christopher what happened with Debi until tomorrow. Let him have a nice evening with Lucy.”

  Finn pinned her to the counter, nudged her chin up, and kissed her. “I don’t want a nice evening. I want a sex-filled evening, and I’m pretty sure that’s what Christopher wants, too.”

  She put her arms around his neck. “You men. It’s always about sex, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it is,” he agreed. Then he kissed her again. He wouldn’t let the kiss end as he backed her into her bedroom. His appetite for her was ravenous, and while they made love, he told her over and over again how much he loved her.

  Thoroughly satisfied, she lay on top of him nuzzling his neck and tickling his ear with her tongue. He tightened his hold around her and said, “You women. It’s always about sex, isn’t it?”

  “Oh yes,” she said on a sigh.

  He lightly smacked her backside. “I’m hungry.”

  Reluctantly, she got out of bed, slipped into a short robe, and followed him to the kitchen. Finn wore checked boxers and nothing else. How could anyone look that good all the time? She passed a mirror and cringed. Her hair was a snarly mess. She made a detour into the bathroom to clean up, and ten minutes later she looked human again.

  They feasted on spaghetti and meatballs, a salad, and crusty rolls she’d warmed in the oven. It wasn’t gourmet by anyone’s standards, but Finn loved it. After the dishes were done, they curled up on the sofa, and each of them listened to their phone messages.

  Peyton’s first was from Jenson, the owner of Harlow’s, the restaurant in Brentwood. She’d worked as a sous-chef for him. He had an interesting proposal. He was hoping she would send him her chocolate cookies to sell in his restaurant.

  “Customers are begging for them,” he explained. “They loved the taste, and they loved the sayings you put on the bottom. You could send them frozen, and we could bake them here. Name your price, darling. The demand is such, I think the customers will pay just about anything.”

  It was an interesting possibility, and as busy as she was going to be, she still thought it was doable. She was smiling as she went on to the second message, but the smile quickly faded. Randolph Swift’s voice was soft and hesitant.

  “We have a situation here I’d like to discuss with you. It has come to our attention that Drew Albertson plans to sue the company for wrongful termination, breach of good faith, defamation, and any number of offenses he can come up with. His campaign to win people over isn’t working and he’s become desperate. Evidently he wants to claim we had an oral contract. According to my sources, you are going to be named in the suit, as well. You’ll need an attorney, of course, which I will be most happy to pay for. If you don’t have one, I could recommend several.”

  He paused as though letting all this information settle before getting to the point of his call. “The company attorneys—and there are quite a few of them—would like to talk to you about the lawsuit. We may have to counter. I think it’s very important that you meet with them, and so I’m asking that you come to Dalton as soon as possible. They also believe that Drew may be subject to criminal charges, and your testimony would be essential. I know it’s an imposition, but I’ll make it as easy for you as I can. I’ll send the company jet to get you and pay all your expenses.” He sounded as though he was about to hang up but happened to think of something else. “Oh, and while you’re here, I hope you will talk to two young women who, like you, were harassed by Drew. They are very hesitant to come forward, and I think you could help them, Peyton. Please call me.”

  Peyton listened to it one more time, trying not to panic. She had never been sued before, and the thought scared her. She saved the message, knowing Finn would want to listen. He was going to give her trouble about going back to Dalton, but she had to do it, and she was certain he would be with her. It was a no-brainer that he wouldn’t let her go without him. Unsure how to tell him, she decided to wait until later. Never do now what you can put off. That was her new motto.

  She quickly scrolled through the rest of her messages, and she was right. Debi’s father had called twice wanting to talk to her about a simple misunderstanding he wanted to correct.

  After returning his calls, Finn yawned and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go to bed.”

  “Will you listen to something first?” she asked. She handed him her phone and waited.

  He looked sleepy when the message began, but he was wide-awake a minute later. “What the hell? That bastard thinks he can sue you? You are not going to Dalton.” He added, “What you’re going to do is call your attorney. Mark will handle this.”

  “Finn—”

  “Don’t start with me,” he said.

  She didn’t try to reason with him. She let him air his frustration while she went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth and put on body lotion. It took him a while to calm down, longer than it ever took her to get past an upset, but by the time she got into bed, he seeme

d calm enough.

  She rolled into his arms. “When do you have to go back to work?”

  “I’m on vacation. I’ve got another week. Two if I want.”

  She took a breath before broaching the subject, and then said, “I’m going to Dalton.”

  And he was off on a tirade again. This time she interrupted. “You’ll go with me, won’t you?”

  “Hell, yes,” he said, letting out a frustrated sigh.

  “Thank you.”

  He looked at her suspiciously. “You knew that I would, didn’t you?”

  She didn’t answer. She just kissed him on the cheek and smiled.

  ______

  The following morning Finn carried the plastic bag with the boots into Christopher’s office and shut the door. After Finn related what had happened and told him it was his call whether or not to inform the police, Christopher put the bag in a cabinet and locked it. Then he picked up the phone to notify Len. In the meantime Peyton was filling Mimi and Lucy in on Debi’s little plot.

  Lucy threw her hands up. “No more second or third or fourth chances. She’s done.”

  “Will you call Ivy? She’s definitely going to want to hear this, but I’ve had my fill of talking about Debi. I’m sick of the drama.”

  “Okay, I’ll call her tonight.”

  “I’m taking a few days,” she said then. “Need to get a couple of things done.”

  Lucy nodded. Her mind was on Debi, and she didn’t even ask what things Peyton needed to do. “I’m going to talk to Christopher,” she said, and rushed to catch him as he was leaving.

  Mimi was more astute. “Where are you going that you don’t want her to know about?”

  In answer, Peyton handed her her cell phone. “Listen to the message Randolph Swift left for me.”

  Mimi nearly dropped the phone. “Sue? That jerk thinks he can sue?”

  Peyton hurried to shut the door so no one would overhear, especially Lucy. Her poor sister had enough on her mind. She didn’t need to worry about a lawsuit.

  “Oral contract? Who is he kidding? When are you going to leave?” Mimi asked.

  “I don’t know. Finn’s making the airline reservations.”

  “He’s not going to use the company jet that was offered?”

  “I asked him that question, and his response was, ‘Hell no.’”

  “You be careful, and if you need anything, you call me, even if it’s in the middle of the night. Watch your back,” she added. “And, Peyton?”

  She was walking away but stopped. “Yes?”

  “He’ll know you’re coming.”

  THIRTY-THREE

  Lars was extremely upset about the trip. He followed Finn to the car with their luggage and helped load the bags into the trunk, all the while explaining how dangerous Drew was. “He’ll know about you coming there. Everyone knows everything in that town. Oh, he’ll be waiting, and I don’t think he’ll care about consequences. He might just shoot Peyton the second he sees her. Or maybe he’ll ambush her. Have you thought of that possibility?”

  “Yes, I’ve considered that possibility and about a hundred others,” Finn replied. “I’m not going to let anyone get to her.”

  “Make her rethink this. It’s crazy to go back there. I can’t help but . . . you know . . . worry.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Braxton joined the men. “I don’t think she should be going,” he said. “But Drake and I will be happy to go with you and help out.”

  “Aren’t you setting up security for the Cove?”

  “Yes, but Peyton comes first. I damn near lost her in that explosion. I want to make up for it.”

  “I’m not going there with a lynch mob,” she said.

  They turned to see her standing just a few feet behind them with her hands on her hips. Braxton opened the passenger door for her.

  As she walked past Lars, she said, “Thank you for worrying about me.”

  She made notes on the way to the airport, questions she wanted to ask the attorneys. Finn had questions as well. The flight was late, and they didn’t arrive in Minneapolis until after nine that evening. They stayed in a hotel near the airport and headed out to Dalton early the next morning. Spring had arrived in Minnesota, and the drive north was beautiful. The blizzard conditions of her last trip were gone, and in their place were soft warm breezes and green rolling hills. If the circumstances of her return were different, she would have enjoyed the road trip, but she couldn’t help but worry about what awaited her in Dalton. She kept telling herself she wasn’t nervous, but it was a lie. She was jittery with nerves.

  Agent Hutton was sitting in his car in the visitors’ parking lot waiting to walk inside with them.

  “Are the boxes here?” Finn asked.

  They went through the revolving door before Hutton answered. “Just like you asked. Lane’s got them back in Albertson’s office. What are you looking for?”

  Finn shrugged. “Don’t know . . . something.”

  Peyton waited until they were in the elevator to ask, “What boxes are you talking about?”

  “Randolph had everything in Albertson’s office packed up in boxes and carted off to storage,” Hutton explained. “Albertson has tried to get them, but Randolph isn’t inclined to accommodate. Finn wants to go through them, and Randolph told Lane it was okay to bring them out.”

  “What time is the meeting with the attorneys?” Finn asked.

  “One o’clock.”

  “We’ve got some time then. Might as well go through the boxes now.”

  “Where would you like me to wait?” Peyton asked.

  Finn squeezed her hand and gave her his don’t-mess-with-me look. “You stay with me.”

  Smiling, she replied, “And I couldn’t be happier about it.”

  The elevator doors opened on the executive level, and Peyton felt a chill roll down her spine the second she stepped out. There wasn’t a receptionist on duty, so she led the way into the office area. All the desks were there, hers and Lars’s and Mimi’s, but no employees. Why would there be? The old boss was gone, and the new boss hadn’t started yet.

  Agent Lane was leaning against the doorway and straightened when he saw them.

  Peyton sat in a chair against the wall of Drew’s office and watched the men sort through the contents of each desk drawer, which had been boxed separately. One at a time, the boxes were emptied onto the desk and studied. Most of them contained files or random office supplies. The last box held what had been in the middle drawer: a roll of mints, paper clips, two pens, an extra set of car keys, a Bluetooth headset, and three condoms.

  “Anyone want to grab a bite?” Lane asked as he scooped up the items, dropped them in their container, and put the lid on.

  Peyton couldn’t get past what she had just seen. “He kept condoms in his drawer? There goes my appetite.”

  “Not mine. We still have some time before your meeting with Randolph. Let’s go down to the cafeteria,” Hutton said. “The food is outstanding. Did you know they have two chefs here?”

  “Didn’t know; don’t care,” Lane said. “Let me get the security guard back here, and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  “Can’t you just lock the door?” Peyton asked.

  “I will,” he assured her. “But I’m a paranoid kind of guy. I want a guard to stand in front of this door just in case someone wants to go in and take a couple of souvenirs.”

  “Maybe we should go somewhere else for lunch,” she whispered to Finn.

  “Why’s that?”

  “The first time I walked into the cafeteria, about a hundred people glared at me. I’m afraid it might happen again.”

  “Glared?” He laughed. “You can handle glares, sweetheart.”

  “I’m telling you it was weird. They stopped eating, stared at me, and, well . . . they gl

ared. The entire cafeteria was silent. It was mortifying. If it hadn’t been for Mimi, I would have bolted.”

  “If they throw food, I’ll shoot them,” Hutton promised.

  “You can hide behind me,” Finn suggested, knowing full well she’d get her back up. Peyton wasn’t the type to hide from anyone or anything.

  He was right. Peyton stiffened her spine and said, “That’s not necessary. I’ll walk in first, and you can follow me.”

  By the time she reached the entrance to the cafeteria, most of her bluster had evaporated, but she took a deep breath, braced herself, and head held high, walked in. As expected, the room grew silent, and every head turned in her direction. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a woman stand. Peyton was afraid she was going to start walking toward her, but the woman stayed where she was and, putting her hands together, began to clap. She was joined by another woman and then another, and before long, every employee in the room was clapping and cheering. What in God’s name was wrong with them? She turned to Finn, hoping he had the answer, but he just winked at her.

  Hutton explained. “They’re clapping for you.”

  Tears came into her eyes, and she knew she was blushing. She still didn’t understand why they were cheering for her. Only later, after the clapping and the cheering had died away and she was sitting at a table, did it all make sense. A woman she hadn’t met before stopped by and patted her shoulder. “Thank you,” she said. “You got rid of them for us.”

  “From glares to cheers,” Hutton said. “You have to feel good about that. Everyone loves you now.”

  She spotted Bridget across the room. “Not everyone,” she said. “Especially not Bridget.”

  “Bridget?”

  “The woman who wouldn’t stop crying when we tried to talk to her,” Finn explained.

  “Oh yeah, the one who wanted to get into Albertson’s office.”

  “I’m telling you, there’s something in one of those boxes she wanted to get for Albertson.”