Betsy

We were in.

I straightened my blazer, lifted my chin, and stepped into the lobby of the corporate building. It was instantly familiar, the glass-paneled walls, the etched marble ceiling, and the circle desk at the far end. All of Katie Dumont's buildings were the same. All of them had their secrets.

The secretary greeted us when we entered. "I'm here to speak with Ms. Dumont," I said, flashing my business card. The woman's eyes widened at the silver lettering embossed on the scarlet paper.

"Right this way to the conference room," she said, hurrying around the desk without so much as a second glance back.

Katherine threw me a confused look, but I shook my head. I'll explain later, I mouthed. I led the way behind the secretary, Katherine and Matt walking a bit slower behind me, to a pair of dark oak doors on the third floor.

"Thank you," I said. "I expect there's a suitable projector in there." I held up a small silver USB drive. "These are confidential matters."

The woman nodded. "All our conference rooms are equipped with separate servers for confidentiality. Would you like some refreshments?" When I didn't immediately respond, she went on. "Ms. Dumont might be a bit late. She wasn't expecting you right now, but I'll tell her shortly—"

"Actually—" I threw a look at Katherine, running through my head the list of names I'd seen in the lobby "—my friend here wanted to meet Mr. O'Haire. Could you please take them to speak with him for a moment?"

The secretary nodded, stealing another glance my way, and then gestured for Katherine and Matt to follow. She would take them to Mr. O'Haire, of course, same as she led me up here. As would anyone who saw my husband's name scrawled along the scarlet business card. Good thing I'd kept a few, though I'd have to be more careful or risk association with his former associates.

But this was the only way I could get the answers I needed.

The conference room was spacious and bright, with six chairs around an oval mahogany table. A projector sat directly center about the table, which when shining down, would display 3-D models of whatever diagrams were present. I knew as much because we had the same model back at Chase Industries.

I tapped the computer mouse until the monitor awoke. No password. Good.

Plugging in the USB, I started my search.

It was easier to steal something when there wasn't a lawyer down my neck. At least Matthew wouldn't have to lie about the monumental information I was going to take from Dumont's servers.

It was easy to find the secret files. Same code as my husband's files back when we broke down the corruption Chase Industries. Inside the hidden section of the hard drive was a folder named PROJECT JUNIPER. Inside that, numerous last names..... HUGH..... KIRK..... NEFTIN.....

My cursor froze over the familiar six-letter surname: MALLOY. 

* * * 

Katherine

The secretary left us in front of an office labeled Cornelius O'Haire.

As soon as we were alone in the hall, Matthew looked at me. "Does she seriously want us to speak with a stranger?"

I read the name again. Then his title: Manager of Operations. It didn't ring any bells. Betsy had already surprised me by exposing herself twice, first with the guard, now with the secretary. I'd expected her to keep her identity a secret—and a terrible feeling settled in my gut that Betsy would be wrapped up in something worse than what Rick had gotten her in before.

"We better not," I whispered, hearing movement behind the door. "I don't want Betsy to be more known here than she is."

"Or us," said Matthew. "Let's go."

We started to turn, but froze when the door opened. A stout older man, with graying salt-and-pepper hair, looked us up and down. "Were you looking for something?"

Matthew cleared his throat. "We were referred to you by an old friend, but I think it was a mistake on their part. We'll let you get back to your day, sir, thank you."

The man's expression turned curious. "What friend?" He laughed. "I don't have that many."

"They asked us not to say," I threw in quickly. "So if that means you can't help us, we understand." I started to turn around again, but he stopped me in my tracks.

"Young lady, I am not in the business of being toyed with," he snapped. "Who asked you to come see me?"

"Be nice, Cornelius," said a kinder voice beyond the corner. "They must be with an old business partner of mine."

Heels clicked as a young woman rounded the corner, grinning and shaking her head. She wore a loose blouse tucked into a pencil skirt, accentuating the curves of her thin frame. Her blonde hair, cut to a soft shoulder-length, bounced in loose ringlets as she strode to Mr. O'Haire.

"I'll see them to the lobby," she said pleasantly. He seemed to accept her statement and begrudgingly returned to his office.

I shared a look with Matthew as the woman strode toward us. If the quiet French accent was any indicator, we were face-to-face with Katie Dumont herself. Could this really be the same person wrapped up in the attacks on my grandfather? In using Chase Industries as a front for terrible operations?

She smiled and I shook my warring thoughts away to focus on what she was saying.

"Mr. O'Haire thinks he runs the place..." she laughed. "Maybe because he does. Follow me." She started down the hall, but at a slow enough pace that it was clear she wanted us to walk beside her.

I filled in the space between her and Matt, biting down the jealousy that rose in me at the sly glance she threw at my fiancé.

"I apologize for the lack of an escort," she said, "our facilities are stretched quite thin since we've started breaking ground on another distribution center in Virginia."

She went quiet, the pause making it clear that she wanted a response. Her heels clicked rhythmically against the floor.

"Oh, that's nice," I offered.

"We have quite a few companies already set on working with us, namely run by an old friend of mine, Mr. Pierre. Do you know Jared Pierre?"

"Nope."

Katie Dumont smiled. "A shame. He's a shrewd businessman. Almost like another partner of mine from many years ago..." She trailed off, and I wondered if she meant Rick Chase. But the way she spoke, her voice soft, it sounded like their relationship had been more than professional.

At the end of the hall, we stepped into an evaluator. I instinctively looked up into the corner, and almost groaned when I spotted the camera. How much of our escapade had been caught on camera?

Katie seemed preoccupied with a text on her phone as the elevator descended, and she didn't seem to notice that she was leaning up against Matthew's arm, altogether much too close for my liking. The elevator doors opened much too slow, but I curled my fingers into the crook of Matthew's elbow and walked out with him ahead of Katie.

He gave me a curious look, brow furrowed, but didn't say anything. Katie strut past us, the only tell-tale sign of her annoyance being the quick steps of her heels against the marble. Matthew glanced between us, spotting my aggravated expression, and he seemed to realize that I was jealous. He placed a warm hand over mine, but it didn't settle the alarm bells that rang in my head at Katie Dumont's presence.

A familiar figure stood by the door. Betsy was flanked by two security officers in black uniforms.

"Nice to see you again, Elizabeth," said Katie.

"Wish I could say the same," grumbled Betsy.

"How's Richard?" Her pleasant smile didn't fool me anymore.

Betsy glared and crossed her arms. "Prison is suiting him well," she said. Her eyes blazed like fire and I found myself praying that Betsy didn't say something to really get her in trouble. Given the circumstances, we were caught trespassing, and all it would take would be one phone call for Katie Dumont to stick us in jail for the night.

Katie sighed. "Such a shame he couldn't work above board." She gestured for the guards to back away. "I know he and I worked together more than I interacted with you, but I dare say you are his better half."

Betsy didn't give a reply, but her jaw clenched. Her fingers coiled around something in her palm.

Katie checked her watch. "I do have to go now, Elizabeth, but hold onto those documents for me in the meantime, will you?" Betsy looked stunned, and I realized she must have stolen something. Maybe that was why she wanted a computer in the conference room. What kinds of files did she steal? Would Katie press charges? My heart drummed in my ears, and I found my hand tightening around Matthew's arm.

"Let's discuss them over dinner one of these days," Katie said pleasantly. "I'll call you."

With that, she said goodbye to Matthew and me, and turned back the way she came. The secretary at the desk kindly asked if we needed anything else.

As soon as the security guards were gone, Betsy stormed out of the lobby. I caught the door behind her, and though we stepped out into a humid heat, I felt cold and clammy all over.

"What in the world was that?" I asked, once I caught up to her in the car.

Matthew got into the car and the engine rumbled to life. Betsy gave me a look over the top of the car. "Not here," she said stiffly.

I bit my tongue as Matthew backed out of the space, waved to the guard at the parking gate, and started down the long lane to the highway. Only when we couldn't see the building anymore did Betsy give me the go ahead.

"What in the world was that?" I said again, this time a lot angrier now that I had time to let my shock settle down. "How could we have been so stupid? There are cameras in there, Betsy. Cameras! And Katie Dumont herself caught you, but she didn't press charges? She has to be some kind of crazy to let all of that slide."

From my small view of her, she had to be crazy, maybe even one of those flirts, but I found it hard to believe that such a petite woman could order the murder of my grandfather. "Do you really think she had anything to do with Gramps?"

"I have my doubts about her," said Betsy at last, "but if there's one thing I know for sure—" she held up the USB drive "—it's that she's planning something bigger than just you and your grandfather."