The Last Invitation (47)


She debated telling Liam her biggest secret, a piece of the puzzle he didn’t have. Already under fire and dealing with waves of debilitating vulnerability and unwanted self-doubt, she couldn’t bring herself to plunge into one more horrible bout of truth-telling.

She tried to dodge around what she really should say. “Baines was a bit like your dad, in that once he started stockpiling money, he craved an even bigger pile.”

“I get that, but there’s this.” He shook the papers in his hand. “This suggests a different issue. Corporate espionage.”

She wondered if he was messing with her. “That sounds like a bad movie plot.”

“It’s very real.” His expression said he was looking for the right words to explain. “We are a small-to-medium-sized company. I’m not being humble. We make a lot of money, but in the distribution and warehousing game, the players are very big. We’re talking serious money. Baines was obsessed with growing, with knocking out the competition.”

Always wanting more. That described her ex perfectly. “Not a surprise.”

“He was obsessed with Earl Swain’s company. We’d started winning smaller contracts, contracts Swain used to pick up to pad his portfolio, but Baines wanted more. He was determined to match him, be Earl’s equal. Now I wonder if that drive made him take terrible, even illegal, risks.” He pointed at the bid documents. “Those confidential papers should be locked in a safe and not in Baines’s possession. They give our company an advantage when bidding on a thirty-million-dollar job.”

“Damn.” She knew Liam and Baines had taken the company into new territory, but not those numbers.

“Exactly. So spending half a million to steal our opponent’s business trade secrets so that we can bid lower and be in a better position to win the overall contract wouldn’t be a terrible investment.”

“But you wouldn’t have agreed, so he hid it from you.” Just as Baines did with so many things.

“Baines didn’t exactly leave a road map, but I think that’s what we’re dealing with here. He had this thing about Earl and his company. We go up against each other a lot.” Liam refilled his coffee mug. “Look, I’m not going to find a check notation that says ‘corporate espionage,’ so this is all guessing.”

Earl Swain and Loretta Swain. Gabby hadn’t thought about her professor for years, but her name kept popping up these days. Every time it did, Gabby felt a new piece of Rob’s puzzle come into sharper focus.

“I don’t know what to say next except I’m sorry you’re stuck figuring out Baines’s mess,” she said.

“Honestly, you have enough to feel bad about. Don’t take on blame that rightly belongs to Baines.” Liam looked like he wanted to add something else but shrugged instead. “I have to get back to work.”

“I need to check on Kennedy. She might be shopping or in an I Hate My Mom chat room instead of in class.” Gabby got off the stool at the same time and smashed into him. He mumbled as she jumped back. “Sorry.”

Awkward. Every minute together bounced between uncomfortable and stumbling these days.

“I’ll do it,” he said as he cleared his throat. “You continue scowling at your laptop.”

She waited until he left to look at the computer again. She exhaled as some of her discomfort of being alone with Liam started to ease.

As she stared at the blinking cursor a new sensation crept in. A different kind of twinge. She didn’t ask the question she wanted to ask. Would it make sense for someone—someone like Earl or Retta—to kill Baines if they found out what he was doing?

Jessa Hall. Loretta Swain. Rob Greene. Baines’s death. All those deaths, including Tami’s. The pieces that shouldn’t be related, but Gabby couldn’t help but think they were.

She took out her cell and did the one thing she’d vowed not to do. She sent the text and immediately regretted it.

We need to meet.





Chapter Forty

Jessa




An artisanal coffee place a few blocks from Union Station was not where Jessa wanted to be on Friday morning. She’d almost ignored the frantic text. But Gabby never asked to meet before, and Jessa didn’t want this to become a habit, so she agreed. This one time.

After battling typical DC traffic and a delay due to the presidential motorcade, Jessa sat in the café, watching Gabby get her coffee order. She walked toward the table Jessa had picked. One away from the window and other patrons.

Jessa waited until Gabby joined her to give some sort of greeting. “Your text was a surprise.”

Gabby shrugged. “To me, too. I never thought our paths would cross after law school, but lately they intersect too often.”

They didn’t agree on much, but on that point they did.

“Why now? Why the rush?” Jessa took a second to look at her acquaintance-turned-enemy. The jerky movements and rushed breath suggested a problem. “You sounded pretty desperate.”

“What do you know about Rob Greene?” Gabby asked.

Not the topic Jessa had expected, but one she could quickly discount. “The reporter guy in the news? Nothing.”

Gabby sighed. “Jessa, look. I get that you have this instinctive need to cover your ass, even if it means lying about stupid, everyday stuff, but I need you to tell me the truth here.”

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