A Matter of Trust (14 page)

Ben followed Jack inside, where he was led
to the television. It was on the news channel, and for the second
time that day, it seemed as if the rug had been yanked out from
under him. He stared at the screen, at the face of the woman whose
virginity he had taken that morning. He blinked, watching,
listening, as she held up documents he could only assume were the
ones he had seen, telling reporters how Ben Wilde had tried to
deceive the community and members of Congress, the American people.
What had his blood running cold was the familiar photo plastered in
the corner, a different headline running under it now:
Ben Wilde
under federal investigation for breach of trust.

He was cold, speechless. No one in the room
said anything. Suddenly, the news camera zoomed out and switched
over to a flurry of reporters dogging Peter Stillwell as he walked
up the steps of the KKO office. He was shaking his head, his
expression pure fury. One of the reporters shouted, “Mr. Stillwell,
tell us, please, were you complicit in working with Ben Wilde to
deceive the American public?”

Security guards appeared at the front doors,
holding the reporters back, and Peter was shaking his head as a
microphone was jammed in front of his face.

“Whatever Mr. Wilde did was without the
knowledge of this office or myself!” he said. “I have no further
comments.” He then moved through the front doors, security pulling
them closed behind him and locking out the press.

For the first time in his life, Ben felt as
if he was on the outside, looking in. It was like an out-of-body
experience, because Peter Stillwell had done the one thing Ben had
never believed he would do--he had hung him out to dry.

He heard someone clear their throat, but he
wasn’t sure if it had been Jack or Alice. He was mesmerized by the
circus playing out in front of him. Then the sound was turned down,
and Ben didn’t want to look at Jack, because he knew the man’s next
words would likely be a demand for him to get out.

“Whatever’s going on, Ben, I’d say someone
doesn’t like you. You made an enemy somewhere,” Jack said. He
cleared his throat again and tossed the TV remote on the square
leather ottoman.

Ben looked over at him. He didn’t open his
mouth to explain anything—he couldn’t.

“I read people well, too, Ben Wilde. I’m
going to ask you one question: Did you do this?”

Ben could feel the heat burning his face.
His anger was spiraling to a point where he wondered whether his
head would simply blow off. He ground his teeth and bit out the
word: “No.”

Jack reached over and squeezed his shoulder.
“Didn’t think so.”

Ben couldn’t have been more shocked. “How do
you know I didn’t do what they said?”

“This project was too good to be true, too
clean, and you’re too honest,” Jack replied. He patted Ben’s
shoulder. “You need to find out who set you up, but I’d start with
who has the most to gain by getting you out of the company—and who
has the resources to pull this off.”

“You sound like a man with experience,” Ben
said. Maybe this was another one of Jack’s layers being pulled
away. He watched Ben with a wisdom that could only have come from
seeing things done and understanding the dirtier side of the oil
business. Ben wished Jack would just be frank and spit it out.

“When you’ve done some of the things I have,
in an industry that runs the world, then you understand nothing is
as it seems. You always need an exit strategy, my friend, to cover
your ass. I hope to hell you have one.”

Ben couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
Yeah, he had things he’d never keep at the office, things not even
Verna was aware of, but until he knew with absolute certainty who’d
done what, he couldn’t play that hand.

“Yeah, I can see you thinking,” Jack said.
“Good. Right now, the name Ben Wilde is being broadcasted
worldwide. You’re a scapegoat, and if you think you can clear your
name, you’re wrong. You’ve already been convicted, and people will
remember.” He patted Ben’s shoulder again. “Make your play, Ben,
and let me know if you need any help.”

Ben swallowed the thick lump in his throat
and started for the door. He stopped in front of Alice, who was
twisting the apron she wore in her hands. “Don’t let Carrie push
you away anymore,” he said. “She’s just afraid.”

Alice patted his arm. “Take care, Ben.”

He walked out the door, taking a deep breath
of the midday air as the wind stirred from the south. It was cool
and disturbing, and he started walking back to his cabin to pack up
everything he had.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” Ben said. He
didn’t have to look at his brother to know he’d seen the news.
Logan, a sheriff in McKay, was deep, moody at times, and intense,
but he was Ben’s brother, and old habits die hard. When the shit
hit the fan and he was backed into a corner, the first and only
person Ben wanted to call was Logan. Ever since they were young,
Logan had been the one constant for him.

“Glad you called. How’d you get to the
airport?” Logan asked from behind the wheel of his older Jeep. His
tan shirtsleeves were rolled up past his elbows, his sheriff’s
badge was pinned to his shirtfront, and a ball cap sat on his head.
The Jeep purred, and Ben wondered whether the thing was now held
together with wires and superglue. It ran, though not quietly or
smoothly, and Ben knew that was really all Logan cared about,
considering he was far from flush with money. He was a soldier, or
used to be, living on next to nothing. After nearly giving his life
for his country in an encounter with a roadside bomb, he had earned
a medical discharge, and he had been left with a pieced-together
leg and PTSD flashbacks that only Ben and Logan’s wife, Julia, knew
about.

“The man who owned the place where I was
staying, Jack Richardson, got me to Portland. I still can’t believe
I got a flight to Ketchum—the last seat.” Ben had had to pay
double, but it had been worth it to fly in to the closest airport
to McKay.

“Did you call that boss of yours?” Logan
said, rubbing his hand across his chin. Ben could hear the scrape
of whiskers from his day-old beard.

“When I was packing up, I called Peter. You
know his first response to me? He asked how I could do something
like this, and then he said he was having the company lawyers and
accountants do a complete audit on me: every project, every file.
He believes I did it, and he let me know, loud and clear, that the
bridge between us has been washed away,” Ben explained. He was
having a hard time understanding how Peter could cut ties after the
bond they had shared. How could Peter immediately believe Ben could
do something like this? Worse, Peter had basically thrown him to
the wolves.

His cell phone rang, and when he lifted it
from his pocket, Logan darted a glance his way and said, “Don’t
answer it.”

But he couldn’t leave it. It was Verna. He’d
called three times but hadn’t been able to track her down. She’d
left the office, and her cell phone had been turned off—her house
phone, too. No one had answered. “I have to,” he said. “It’s
Verna.”

“Watch what you say. You can’t trust anyone
right now, and you need to be paranoid that everyone is out to
betray you, even those you believe won’t.”

Ben just shook his head. Logan didn’t know
Verna, not like he did. She was like family to him. “Hey, Verna,
I’ve been trying to get a hold of you.”

“Ben, what the hell is going on? I’ve never
been so scared in my life. Do you know I was called into your
office by Mr. Stillwell? Rick was there, too, along with two
security guards. They emptied your file drawers, and the lock was
busted. Every file, every paper, every report you had in your
office was scattered on the desk and the tables, piled on the
floor, and there were two other men I’ve never seen before going
through everything.” Her voice was tight on the other end, and he
could hear how she was trying to hold it together.

“Verna, I’m so sorry. Are you all right?” He
wished he could see her right now, and maybe he should have flown
back to Boise, seen to Verna first.

“I lost my job, Ben. Peter fired me, said I
may need to get a lawyer, because no one will believe I didn’t know
what you were doing or have some part in falsifying those
documents. Ben, Peter said I could be looking at jail time.” This
time, her voice did catch. “I still have a kid in college! This
could bankrupt us.”

“Verna, do you believe I could have done any
of this?”

She sighed on the other end, and for a
moment he felt another door closing. “Would you stop being
ridiculous?” she snapped then. “Of course I know it’s not true, but
I don’t understand how your name, your signature, appeared on all
those documents. I didn’t see everything, but Peter showed me one
from the steel manufacturer in China. It was your signature,
Ben!”

“You actually saw one of the documents? It
couldn’t be an original. Either someone has forged my signature or
it’s been copied on. Who has the most to gain from my downfall?” he
asked, though he knew the answer before he had even finished
speaking.

“Ben, you remember when I called you to say
I found Rick in your office and that he left with a file? You don’t
think…”

“Yeah, I do. Listen, Verna, hang tight and
try not to worry. If for some reason something happens and you hear
from the Feds, Peter, anyone before I get back to you, call me, but
don’t panic. And don’t say anything to anyone, okay?” he said. He
had a lot to make up to Verna over this. She was too good a woman
to be dragged into a mess that wasn’t even his own doing. It wasn’t
right.

“Ben, I have to tell you that my husband
wants some answers, too.”

“If it was me, I would, too. I promise you
I’m going to get to the bottom of this. Will you be okay? Can you
keep a low profile?”

She let out a sigh. “Yes, and, Ben, I really
hope you can straighten this out.” She hung up before Ben could say
anything else. He held the phone tightly and could feel his brother
watching him.

“Ben, the only way you can protect those
around you is to look after yourself, to clear your name. Do you
have any idea who would do this to you?” Logan said.

He tucked his cell phone in his pocket. “I’m
pretty sure it’s Rick Stillwell, Peter’s son. I couldn’t swear to
it, Logan, but if it wasn’t him, I don’t have any idea who else it
could be.”

“So what does this Rick have against
you?”

“He’s Peter’s son, a pompous rich kid. Daddy
made him vice president in my shadow, but he’s earned jack shit in
that position. In theory, he reports to me, but he doesn’t.”

Logan was shaking his head. “Ben, blood is
thicker. You know that--so he has it out for you?”

“Yeah, he has it out for me. He doesn’t like
the idea of being below me. He wants my job and refuses to report
to me. I’ve had to pull rank on him a few times. I did have Peter’s
support, then. I wonder, though…” He shook his head, wondering if
maybe Peter’s support had been all talk. Had he been grooming Rick
all along to take over, work under Ben, learn the ropes? “I guess
it all comes down to proving it, Logan.”

“Get the papers, and then we’ve got a place
to start,” Logan said. He glanced over at his brother again.
“Small-town sheriff I may be, Ben, but I have resources, too. Just
remember one thing: No one screws with my family.”

Logan pulled into his driveway, which led to
a small, box-style bungalow with a garden full of flowers. The
front door flew open, and Dawn and Trinity raced out, followed by a
very pregnant Julia, her dark hair pulled into a short
ponytail.

Ben had only stepped out when the girls
tackled him. “Hey, you two spoiled-rotten kids!” he shouted,
grabbing both preteen girls and lifting them as they giggled. Julia
went right to Logan’s side and kissed him as he put his hand
possessively over her swollen belly and the child she was
carrying.

“Ben, glad you’re here,” Julia said. “The
girls made you a surprise. They were so excited that Logan was
going to pick you up.”

“Yeah, what’s the surprise?” he asked.
Julia’s girls from her first marriage were a handful and a ton of
fun, and they thought he walked on water.

“We made you some cookies!” Trinity
said.

“Shortbread, you said it was your favorite,”
Dawn added.

“It is my favorite. Why don’t you go in and
dish some up?” Ben said. “I’ll be right in.”

The girls took off, and Logan just watched
them like a protective father, making sure everyone was where they
were supposed to be.

“Ben, I’m so glad you called, really,” Julia
said. “When Logan saw that news report, I thought he was going to
hunt you down and drag you back here.” She had her hand on Logan’s
chest, and by the way she watched him, anyone could see how much
she loved Logan. That alone meant more to Ben than anything,
knowing that his brother, who gave to everyone, had someone taking
care of him.

“Well, there isn’t anyone else I would
call,” Ben said.

Maybe Logan understood what he meant, as he
simply nodded and then gestured to his brother. “Grab your bag,” he
said. “Let’s start making some calls.”

Carrie received the summons from her father
to appear in person at home. Actually, the message she listened to
on her cell phone was spoken in a tone she’d never heard from her
father before. Carrie had ignored many messages from her father,
but this time, for some reason, she couldn’t ignore it. There had
been a second message, too, a little quieter, but she hadn’t been
fooled by the calmness in the way he spoke. She could hear the
outrage in the heat of his tone. He was the only man she knew who
said very little, but what he did say, he meant from the depths of
his soul.

She called the house, and her father
answered on the first ring, as if he’d been sitting there,
waiting.