Hour of Need (Scarlet Falls #1)(15)

He scrubbed a hand down his face. “But someone here knew and leaked the information to the police.”

That explained the detective’s visit.

He waved his glass, his mind still whirling behind his gray eyes. “Now that Lee’s gone, you’re probably the only person I trust around here.” With the senior Peyton still controlling the business, employee loyalties were divided.

“Perhaps the Hamiltons?” she suggested.

“It’s a possibility. They have been outspoken.” He pursed his lips. “We’ll have to go into damage control mode. I’ll draft a statement for the media. Let me know the instant the first reporter calls.”

“All right.” Ellie stood.

“Unfortunately, there’s more.”

She froze.

“We’re missing money.” Roger tipped the bottle over his glass.

“You have a client meeting at eleven.” Ellie reached across the desk and took the bottle from him. Crossing to the wet bar, she returned the scotch and poured him a cup of coffee from the carafe.

Accepting the coffee, he sighed. “Our accountant called my father. A series of fraudulent checks were cashed over the past few weeks.”

“How much?” Ellie dropped back into the chair.

“I don’t know yet. Not enough to ruin us. Don’t worry.”

But Ellie couldn’t help it.

“You’re with me on this, right, Ellie?” Roger toyed with the cup’s handle.

“Of course.” What else was she going to say? It wasn’t like she could refuse. Damn it. She didn’t want to be put in the middle of the Peyton family feud. Jobs weren’t that plentiful in Scarlet Falls. Between Nan’s pension and Ellie’s salary, the bills were covered. Rehabbing and selling a house every few years had netted them some savings. When she flipped her current home, there should be enough money to put her daughter through college provided Julia stayed in state. Life might not be exciting, but Ellie would take steady and solid over a thrill. The last time she’d been impulsive, she’d ended up pregnant—and alone.

“The accountant is trying to trace the money trail, but I need to find it first.” Roger turned desperate eyes on her. “I need to protect the firm.”

Ellie tried to summon some pity, but Roger made it difficult. He was nice enough, but weak, and he’d demonstrated his lack of loyalty by dumping his sweet wife of thirty years for a high-maintenance trophy edition. It was his lifestyle he wanted to protect, not his employees.

“I need you to help me, Ellie.”

Exactly what she didn’t want to do. But realistically, the old man had already put Ellie solidly on Roger’s team. If Roger was out, so was she.

“I’ll see what I can find out.”

His eyes brightened.

Ellie returned to her desk. Her eyes went to the expense report she’d been preparing, but her mind was stuck on the firm’s problems. Lee had taken the case even though he knew it wouldn’t be a popular decision with the senior lawyer in the firm. If the police wouldn’t prosecute, what made him think he could win? And did either the Hamilton case or the missing money have anything to do with his death?



A rough sound startled Grant awake, the vision still clear in his mind: Lee’s face exploding in a red mist. Panting, he swept his gaze around the room. A muffled bark made him look over the edge of the mattress. AnnaBelle wagged at him. The mattress shifted as the agile dog jumped up to stand over him in the queen-size bed. “I wish you’d have woken me a couple of minutes earlier.”

She stretched out and rested her head on his chest.

His hand swept through the silky, golden fur. “I suppose you need to go out.”

AnnaBelle wagged harder, jumped down, and danced on the hardwood. Grant swung his legs over the side. Six a.m. He had hours before the cop was supposed to call. Sleep had been elusive, his mind replaying his kill shot in the ambush over and over every time he dozed off. He had to get his act together before the kids got home.

He stepped into a pair of shorts and tugged a sweatshirt over his head, then dug his running shoes from his bag. A run would clear his mind and take the edge off the young dog’s energy. “Let’s go.”

He snapped AnnaBelle’s leash on her collar. Outside, the dog peed on the lawn before they set off down the street. Grant kept the pace slow, unsure of the dog’s fitness, but the retriever had no trouble keeping up. Forty minutes later, they returned to the house. Grant showered, dressed, and called a locksmith.

His phone vibrated and displayed a message from his sister. Be home tomorrow afternoon. The second buzz was Detective McNamara letting him know the kids would be home in two hours. Still nothing from Mac. Grant paced. Five miles wasn’t enough to burn off his tension.

He had two hours, more than enough time to go see his father. No excuses.

“Be good,” he said to the dog, flat out and sound asleep on the wood floor.

Five miles of rural highway took Grant to the nursing home parking lot. Walking through the sliding glass doors, he unzipped his jacket and stopped at the reception desk in the lobby.

A gray-haired woman in bright pink scrubs looked up from a laptop. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here to see Alexander Barrett,” he said.

“The Colonel is in room fifty-two.” Smiling, she wrote a number on a cardboard pass and handed it to him. She pointed over his shoulder. “Make a left at the end of the hallway.”