5. Hayden

Fin Tin was alive.

Straightening my bow tie, I approached the ballroom of JFI and tried to get my mind to stop buzzing and short-circuiting around that fact.

Arthur’s lawyer wasn’t dead after all.

The private investigator I’d hired to look into him had contacted me not even an hour ago, and he’d found evidence that Randolph Finley was still breathing and very much alive, living the high life in Mexico, a filthy rich man.

Son of a bitch. If he’d faked his death, what else had he faked?

My stepfather’s last will and testament, no doubt.

Lana was behind this, I was certain of it. I just had to find proof: either the true, legitimate will Arthur had made or a trail from the payoff money Lana had given Fin Tin to make him leave town and disappear forever. No way was she an innocent party in all this. And I was going to find the evidence I needed to expose her. Tonight.

But first, I need to make an appearance at this damn office party. I would’ve rather skipped it altogether, but Nash had gone to extreme lengths to arrange it for his employees, so Lana had made an even bigger production of trying to sabotage his hard work and get the entire event canceled—because I swear she had the hots for the much younger Nash and he did not return the sentiment, so she therefore felt the need to punish him for every breath he breathed.

If I didn’t at least pop by the party, I’d show everyone at JFI that I backed Lana. And while I wanted her to think I did, over my dead body did I want everyone else to think it, too, so here I was to demonstrate to my department that I was most definitely one of the good guys and held my allegiance to the good CEO of the company.

With an annoyed sigh and my teeth gritted in irritation, I stepped into the room, only to nearly collide with my brother.

We both pulled up short, only for each of us to pause and scowl at the other’s costume.

“You knew this was a costume party, right?” Brick said dryly as he glanced at my tux. “Not the prom.”

I scowled back. “I am in costume.” Rolling my shoulders uncomfortably inside my stiff black jacket, I fiddled with my bow tie yet again. “I’m supposed to be Prince Charming.”

“No,” Brick snorted. “I’m Prince Charming.”

He’d taken his role seriously too and gone all out, spiffing himself up as Prince Charming from the Cinderella movie, with the red pants, white top and gold adornments.

But me being me, I had to scan my gaze over his costume with mild derision before I answered, “Hmm. I like mine better.”

I flickered my gaze to his date next to him, meaning to give her the same condescending look, only to pull up short in confusion. The woman was dressed as a yellow Power Ranger, concealing her face with a matching mask and everything. Huh. I would’ve thought a woman Brick chose to go anywhere with would wear something skimpier for a Halloween costume. I might’ve actually just grown a little respect for my baby brother. He’d chosen someone who didn’t feel as if she had to reveal all. That was different. Surprising. And a bit refreshing. I sent his date a polite nod before stepping past the two of them and heading toward the buffet line.

All the while, I wondered how long I should stick around and make sure I was seen before I could escape and do what I’d really come here tonight to do.

I went straight to the fruit and plucked a couple grapes before stealing a strawberry and then a watermelon ball. When I skimmed my gaze down toward the sweets, my eyes lit on the last chocolate chip cookie there. Intent to claim it as my own, I started that way, keeping my attention focused on it. I didn’t realize someone else had it in their sights as well until I reached out and my hand collided with a yellow glove.

“Oh!” a feminine voice exclaimed. Simultaneously, we pulled back. I looked up, only to groan under my breath when I found Brick’s Power Ranger standing on the other side of the table. Shit. Now I had to be a gentleman and let her have the damn cookie.

Pulling my hand back even further, I cleared my throat. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

She stood frozen a moment, staring at me, the cookie clutched in both her hands until suddenly she thrust it forward, silently offering it to me.

Not expecting that, I blinked a moment before shaking my head and waving a hand. “Oh! No, that’s okay. You had it first.”

When she insisted and continued to hold the cookie out to me, shit started growing tight and unpleasant in my chest. Dammit, this was awkward. I was too used to Lana’s world: ulterior motives, catty remarks, backward compliments, superior glances, basic selfishness. Genuinely nice, giving people always made me feel so damn uncomfortable.

And I did want the cookie, so I said, “You’re sure?”

When she nodded enthusiastically, I took the snack and bit into it slowly, closing my eyes before letting out a small moan.

God, chocolate chip was seriously the best. It reminded me of a time years ago when Arthur and Kaitlynn had first come into our lives. Eight-year-old Kaitlynn had found her mother’s cookie recipe and decided to learn how to make them. Every day, she’d try and try again but was always disappointed because she swore they were never quite like her mother’s, even though I thought every batch was pretty damn good myself.

Across the table, the Power Ranger gave a little bounce and clapped her hands up near her breastbone area, seemingly pleased that I liked the cookie.

I chuckled a little in spite of myself, even as a sneaking suspicion began to spark in my head.

I swear, I’d seen Kaitlynn do that very clap before. Crinkling my brow, I ran my gaze over her. The height and figure definitely fit hers.

“You seem nice,” I mused aloud, before frowning. “So what’re you doing here with my brother?”

She laughed—Kaitlynn’s laugh—and shrugged before twirling her finger in a circle by her ear with the sign for crazy.

I smiled and nodded. Oh yeah, this had to be Kaitlynn. She was refusing to talk so I wouldn’t hear her voice. I’m not quite sure why she didn’t want me to know it was her, maybe she was embarrassed about coming with Brick—understandable—or maybe she was testing me, seeing how I treated her when I wasn’t supposed to know it was her.

She and I weren’t exactly close. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d actually talked to each other. She probably thought I couldn’t stand her. But I had to keep up the act. If Lana thought I had any regard for Kaitlynn, she’d stop letting me in on her evil plans concerning her stepdaughter.

Brick didn’t give a damn if Lana saw him talking to Kaitlynn, and in return, Lana never told him any of the cruel things she did to Kaitlynn, which meant he’d never been able to intercept and foil any wrongdoing, as I’d managed to do a handful of times.

In return, Kaitlynn smiled openly at Brick and relaxed whenever he was around. She only went tense and timid when she saw me.

Refusing to feel guilty about that, but experiencing an echo of regret anyway, I lifted the cookie in thanks and turned away, needing to put some space between myself and the yellow Power Ranger. Thinking this was as good a time as any to start my true mission for the evening, I started toward the doors that led from the ballroom, only to be waylaid by one of my employees who was dressed as a provocative Minnie Mouse.

“Mr. Carmichael,” she said in such a respectful way that I knew she had nothing salacious in mind. I wasn’t like Brick; I didn’t diddle with anyone from work, but it was still kind of depressing that someone still considered me boring and staid enough to discuss business with at a Halloween party.

I lifted a hand, cutting her off. “Can it wait until Monday?”

“But I just wanted to make sure you received my design. I sent it—”

“I did. And we’ll discuss it Monday,” I reiterated. “Have a good evening now.” I moved past her, rubbing at the spot at the center of my forehead.

I’d stayed long enough to be seen. It was time to complete objective number two for the evening.

As I started from the room, I unconsciously glanced around for the yellow Power Ranger. She was gone, but Brick was off flirting with Sabelle from the Belts department, which confirmed my suspicions even more that he’d brought our stepsister as his date, otherwise he’d be panting after the Power Ranger herself right now, not Sabelle.

In the hallway, I turned left.

After Arthur died, Lana had transformed the largest conference room on the first floor into her new office. Since she hated stairs and elevators, she’d abandoned the CEO office on the third floor for some prime ground-level real estate. So I only had to wander down that first hall and turn right into a darkened corridor before I came to the entrance that led into her private sanctum.

Glancing behind me to make sure no one else was about, I reached for the door handle and found it unlocked.

Perfect.

Except as soon as I pushed my way inside, I paused in the doorway when I found the light on in the outer office where Lana’s secretary, Shyla, kept her desk.

Shit. Lana wasn’t here, was she?

No. Lana would asphyxiate herself before showing her face anywhere on the property while Nash was throwing his infamous Halloween bash. That was why I’d chosen tonight to search her office. If Lana happened to find anything missing—like say her deceased husband’s true will—she’d have a hell of a time tracking down the thief. With the party in progress, the front doors were open and no one would be using their keycard to gain entrance after hours. She wouldn’t be able to check the log to see who’d gone in or out of the building.

But why was the light on in here?

Maybe Shyla was around? Or Bruno had left it on during a trash-emptying round? If I ran into either of them, I’d just say I left something on Lana’s desk; they’d believe me. Then I’d abort the mission. Until then, I was going to go as far as I could with my search.

Feeling as if time was of the essence, even though I was sure the party would go on for hours, I hurried to the door that led into Lana’s office. Once inside, I flipped on the light, figuring if the outer office light was on, then it wouldn’t hurt to turn this light on as well. Besides, if I was caught now, I’d look more suspicious nosing around in the dark.

I tried her filing cabinets first, opening all four drawers and skimming over the file tabs. Then I turned to her desk. Fastidious when it came to paperwork, Lana had nothing left out and exposed on top. I moved behind it and tugged on the first drawer.

Locked.

Not a problem. I’d learned to pick cheap locks like this before I was twelve. Lana always thought she was so clever whenever she took something away from Brick and me, then locked it away in a desk. We used to have competitions over who could jimmy a lock faster.

I was still the reigning champion.

With a little help from two paper clips, I was sliding the drawer open within fifteen seconds. The sight of paper—official-looking documents—caused my heart to leap with excitement. Would it be this easy? The first locked drawer I came across, and boom—there was the proof I needed?

Nope.

Inside lay a heap of boring, legitimate JFI business. Though I did pause long enough to make sure it was actually authentic and not embezzlement, money laundering, racketeering, or any other white-collar crime, I shut the drawer a minute later, re-locked it, and started on the next. At the third drawer, I began to lose a little hope, which ratcheted up the desperation a notch. After learning Fin Tin was alive, everything seemed to jolt into hyper speed. I wanted the truth now.

“Dammit. Where the hell is it?”

By the fourth and bottom drawer, I was no longer searching neatly through the stacks. I could taste vengeance right there on the tip of my tongue. She had to keep it here at the office. She was just vain and arrogant enough to hide the truth from everyone right under their noses. I swear, Arthur’s real will was just whispering my name, trying to tell me where it was.

When a gasp came from the doorway, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

I looked up to spot a shadow moving across the open crack in the doorway. Shit. Someone was out there.

Trying to calm my breathing and the erratic beat of my heart, I hurried around to the front of the desk and then strode to the doorway to pull it open. The latch was just clicking shut to the door that led from the outer office. I dove forward in hot pursuit, wondering who else had been slinking around after hours and seen me. It must’ve been someone else who didn’t belong, otherwise why hadn’t they confronted me and asked what I was doing?

But when I peered out into the darkened corridor, it was abandoned.

Looking one way, then the other, I frowned, sure I’d seen and heard someone. I guess it didn’t matter. I doubt whoever it’d been would rat me out to Lana, unless it was one of her minions she paid extra to skulk around the company and report things back to her.

Shit. It better not have been one of her spies.

If it was, it was too late now. I’d just tell her I was looking for something I thought I’d left behind from the other day when I’d last been in her office, where she’d bitched me out for not supporting her enough when she’d had her latest argument with Nash.

Shaking my head, I shut the door and turned back toward Lana’s office, ready to search every nook and cranny before I left this room. But a red blinking light above the entrance caught my attention.

“Motherfucker,” I hissed. She’d wired the place. No wonder why she hadn’t locked any rooms. The place was booby-trapped with an alarm. I’d probably tripped some signal, which was now sending her an alert, letting her know her private workspace had just been breached.

Time to go.

Getting the hell out of there, I left the office without looking back, lights blaring and everything. Shit. What if there’d been cameras installed and she’d just fucking watched me search her drawers? I wouldn’t be able to explain that. She’d never trust me again. She’d probably take away the keycard I had to her apartment, too, and I’d never get the chance to search there either. Hell, she might fire me from JFI altogether.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit,” I muttered, running my hand through my hair as I stormed from the building and into the cool, crisp October night.

I’d been so eager and gung-ho, I’d probably just fucked my entire mission. Kaitlynn would never receive her rightful inheritance, Lana would get away with everything, and I’d never learn the truth.

There would be no justice, no salvation, no freedom. No answers. Just more misery and a lifetime of Lana controlling everything.

Arthur was probably shaking his head in shame this very moment from inside his casket.

I’d let him down.

But then, “No,” I growled. No fucking way was Lana winning this.

Jogging to my car, I slid behind the wheel and brought the engine to life.

Whether she knew the culprit to the break-in was me or not, Lana’s first response was going to be to come down here and see what—or if anything—had been taken. That was going to leave her apartment empty for the next hour—or less, but hopefully more. This might be my last opportunity to search her place, in case she was aware that I’d been the one in her office tonight and she did demand I relinquish my keycard to her condo. So, while I still had the means to get in, I was fucking going in.

I was two blocks from Preston Estates when I met her distinctive, little red sports car streaking past, headed in the direction of JFI. In return, I doubted she would recognize meeting my nondescript tan sedan among oncoming traffic; she was in too much of a rush.

Let’s hope she didn’t, anyway.

A smile lit my face. At least my backup plan seemed to be working. Parking on the opposite side of the building from where I knew she typically parked, I pocketed my keys, hurried from my car, and entered the building from the side entrance, where I strode across the red-carpeted floor until I reached her ostentatious, rhinestone-covered door.

Tugging my wallet from the inside of my suit jacket, I slipped my keycard out from behind a credit card and slid it through the door swipe. My muscles tensed, wondering if she’d already changed the locks to deny me access, but then the door beeped and a light flashed green, letting me know I was in.

I released a relieved breath.

Good. Here we go.

I put the key away and slid my wallet back into my jacket, then glanced either way, and for some reason, I backed into the front room to keep an eye on the hallway to make sure no one saw me enter.

Shutting the door, I closed my eyes briefly, thankful this had worked, and then I turned to search the place, only to fall to a shocked halt when I saw the woman standing there in the middle of the living room, gaping at me and wearing a gold ball gown. A very familiar gold ball gown.

She looked surprised, so surprised that she couldn’t seem to even move. Or talk. Her mouth moved without forming words, and her face drained of color.

It took me a moment to recognize her with her hair pulled up into a bun and that familiar dress adorning her body. But when I realized it was Gabby, the woman from Kaitlynn’s apartment building, the one with the little brother—Miguel—or whatever relation he was to her, I froze too.

The woman I’d been daydreaming about for the past two weeks was standing right in front of me? Had I somehow willed her here with my fervent thoughts? Hell, was she even real?

Jesus, of course she was real. What was I thinking? But what in God’s name was she doing in Lana’s apartment? And more bizarre yet, why was she wearing that dress? And why was she clutching a white trash bag to her chest as if she’d just stolen something and had stashed it in there?

Oh shit. My gaze zipped back to her face. She looked guilty as hell, like a burglar who’d just been caught in the act of breaking and entering.

“What the hell?” I said.