Sleeping With My Boss: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (A Dirty Office Romance) (104 page)

BOOK: Sleeping With My Boss: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (A Dirty Office Romance)
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"But we don't
know why they killed Lydia," I said.

"That's true,
but we can start to narrow it down," she said.

"How do you
suggest we do that?" I asked. "I don't want you getting involved in
the investigation, Brooke."

"Oh
hush," she smiled. "I think we've determined that I'm a big girl who
can take care of herself."

"Indeed,"
I grinned. "But only if you're going to give the killer a stellar blow
job, and I'm not sure I'd be on board with that."

"Not even in
the interests of justice, Mr. Malone?" she grinned back at me.

"Nope, not
even in the interests of justice." I shook my head.

"Jealous, are
you?"

"Oh
yes," I nodded. "Oh yes, indeed, I am."

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER
SIXTY

Brooke

 

"
What
about Beck?" I asked as Dax brought the
last of the dishes into the kitchen and set them in the sink. "Where is
he?"

"I have no
idea," he said as his shoulders sank a little. I could tell he was far
more worried than he was letting on, but I also knew that sometimes in order to
remain hopeful, a person had to shove worry to the side. For this reason, I
didn't want to tell him about the phone call I'd received. If I told him, he'd
get even more protective than he already was and I was afraid that if he did,
then I wouldn’t be able to do my job well enough to keep him out of prison.

"Have you
talked to his friends?" I said, steering my thoughts back to the issue of
Beck's disappearance.

"He doesn't
have any friends aside from me and Riza," Dax said. "He's a loner and
a junkie."

"Where does
he get his drugs?" I asked.

"That's what
we've never been able to figure out," he replied. "I've had Ri
following him for a long time, but she can't figure out where he hooks up with
his connection."

"That's
weird, it seems like that would be something easy to figure out," I mused.

"Don't go
getting any ideas," he warned as he pulled me to him and ran his fingers
through my hair. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling for a few moments
before pulling back and reminding him that we had business to do.

"Dax, we need
to figure out where Beck is before the killer does," I said.

"Don't remind
me," he sighed. "I've got people out looking for him all over the
city, but I have to be careful not to let word get out too far."

"Who would
want to kill Lydia?" I said knowing that I'd started to sound like a
broken record. "Wait, you said she had a new love interest, right?"

"Yeah,
why?"

"Well,
Captain Obvious, who was he? Maybe he's got information we could use," I
teased.

"Very funny,
I have no idea who she was seeing," he admitted. "She was pretty
tight lipped about it."

"That's
weird," I murmured thinking that I needed to ask Jordie and Roger if
they'd heard any rumors about Lydia floating around the places they hung out.

"Brooke, I
need to get back to the club," he said. "I've got business to take
care of this evening. The police cleared us in the OD case, so we're opening as
usual tonight for the weekly EDM DJ contest."

"Sounds like
a blast," I said as I moved out of his arms and back toward the table.

"Aw, c'mon,
it's fun!" he laughed. "You sound like my grandmother or
something."

"Are you
accusing me of being old?" I faked an indignant look and that made him
laugh harder.

"No, I'm just
saying, you should come by the club and check it out some night," he said.

"Alright,
well, let me get back to the office and consult with the guys about how we're
going to handle the case, and then I'll drop by the club," I said. "I
want to see what you do for a living."

Dax shot me a
"get real" look and then laughed as he grabbed me and kissed me
deeply before heading toward the door.

"Be careful,
Brooke," he said seriously.

"Yeah, yeah,
yeah, I'll be fine," I laughed and waved him off. "I'll see you later
tonight."

#

When
I got back to the office, I found Jordie at his desk, but no sign of Roger.

"Have you
seen Roger this afternoon?" I asked as I moved a pile of papers off the
one other chair in Jordie's office and sat down.

"No, come to
think of it, I haven't heard from him since last night," Jordie replied.
"Why? What's going on?"

"He said he
was heading over to the marina to check things out," I said making a
mental note to call the marina after we were through talking. "What have
you got on Lydia?"

"Nothing
earth shattering," he said. "She had just completed a deal that would
have given her firm the backing it needed to move it into the realm of a
legitimate law firm, so it looks like she was shedding her less savory clients
at the time of her murder."

"That's
interesting," I said not wanting to give away what I already knew.
"Who were her clients? Besides Malone."

"It looks
like she defended a few small time dealers on the Northside, but nothing that
suggests she was in bed with the big players," Jordie sad. "Brooke,
none of this makes any sense."

"I know,
right?" I replied. "It's like someone wanted people to think that she
was killed because of business, but then the business dealings don't seem to
warrant that kind of violence or retaliation."

"Yeah, it's
weird," he said. And then as an afterthought, he added, "Oh, I found
the contract work that you were talking about."

"You did?
Where?"

"It was in
Roger's office in a stack of other contracts," he said. I didn't say
anything about how he'd violated our agreement about none of us digging through
the others' papers. "It looks like a standard contract drawn up at Lydia's
request. Nothing fishy about it. She needed some outside legal work done and
Roger did it."

"Huh, I
wonder why he didn't tell us about it," I mused.

"This is the
weird thing about it, though," Jordie said. "I looked up the billing
for the contract he drew up, and it was billed and then paid at three times the
normal hourly rate."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, that's
what I said when I saw it," he nodded. "But there are no notes on the
account, nor is there an attempt to hide the money or anything. It's not like
he was trying to keep it secret. He billed the firm, they wrote the check, and
he deposited it. End of story."

"This just
keeps getting weirder and weirder," I said. "Can you get Roger on the
phone so we can ask him about it?"

"Tried
already, he's not picking up," Jordie said.

"Dammit, we
need some answers!" I said fidgeting in the chair. I knew what I was going
to do, but I didn't want to tell Jordie.

"You're going
out to the marina, aren't you?" he said with his back turned.

"How'd you
know that?"

"C'mon,
Brooke, we've been friends for years, I know you better than almost
anyone," he smiled as he turned around and pulled a document out of the
printer next to his computer.

"What's
this?"

"A copy of
the contract that Roger wrote for Lydia," he said. "I figured you'd
want to ask him about it as soon as you saw him, and if you have this, then he
has no wiggle room to avoid it."

I looked at Jordie
and smiled.

"I know you
both way better than I should," he said with a shrug.

"Great, then
I'm going to grab a few things and head out to the marina," I said.

"Brooke, do
you really think that's a good idea?" he asked.

"Yeah,
why?"

"The fax that
came in this morning was a little scary," he said. I realized that I
hadn't told Jordie about the phone call or the photos delivered to my
apartment. I'd wanted to ask him about the call, but now that he was expressing
worry, I didn't want him trying to talk me out of tracking Roger down. The
threats were most likely designed to simply scare me off rather than actually
threaten me with any real violence. Or at least, that's what I wanted to
believe.

"Look, I
think it's just a scare tactic that's being used to try and get me off the
case," I said as nonchalantly as I could. "I'm not worried about it,
so you shouldn't be, either."

"Brooke..."
he trailed off and then shrugged and said, "Okay, if you say so."

I knew there was a
lot he wasn't saying, but right now, I didn't have time to try and ferret it
out and soothe his fears. I needed to find Roger and ask him about Lydia's
contact.

I went back to my
office and gathered a few things that I thought I'd need, checked to make sure
my phone was charged and then realized that I needed a car.

"Hey,
Jordie?" I called as I walked down the hall. "Can I borrow your
car?"

"Are you
kidding me?" he said.

"Nope, not in
the least," I shook my head and held out my hand.

"Brooke, you
have to be careful with this car," he warned. "You can't put regular
gas in it and you can't drive like a bat out of hell."

"Jordie, I
promise, I will put only high octane fuel in your precious little baby, and I
will drive the speed limit the whole way there and back," I said with my
right hand raised.

"I don't
believe you," he grumbled as he reached into his pocket, pulled out the
keys, and handed them over. "If there's even one scratch on it, I
swear!"

"If there's
even one scratch on it, I'll buy you a whole new car," I promised.

"With
what?" he asked. "Your goodwill and best intentions?"

"No, it won't
come to that, I do solemnly swear," I said as I took the keys from him and
headed for the door.

"Brooke, be
careful!" Jordie shouted.

"I'll take
care of the car!" I shouted back.

"That's not
what I mean," he said as he walked out into the hallway and watched me
walk toward the front door.

I turned and
winked as I held up the keys. I was scared, but I sure as hell wasn't going to
let it show.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER
SIXTY-ONE

 

Dax

 

An
hour later, I was
sitting at my desk going over the week's books when I heard Kesha screaming at
the top of her lungs down on the club floor.

"DAX! DAX!
GET DOWN HERE!"

I turned toward
the window overlooking the club floor and saw Kesha with her arms wrapped
around a small, thin person who was limping. When the person looked up, I
realized it was Beck! I ran out of the office, taking the stairs two at a time,
and was down on the club floor in moments.

"Beck!"
I yelled. "Where the hell have you been?"

"I didn't do
it," he mumbled as I scooped him up and ran to the back where Javi kept
the medical supplies.

"What'd you
take, Beck?" I prodded him as I set him on a cot in the back and told
Kesha to call Javi. She ran to the front of the house to make the call while I
searched the boxes for something that might help Beck. I quickly realized that
if I didn't know what he'd taken, then I might possibly do more harm than good,
so I sat down next to him and started peppering him with questions.

"Why did you
run away from rehab? Where have you been? What did you take, Beck?" my
voice grew more panicked as I watched his head loll sideways for a moment
before he snapped it back and looked at me.

"Didn't do
it, Dax," he mumbled in a drugged stupor. "Didn't do it."

"What didn't
you do?" I asked. "What, Beck? What didn't you do?"

"She told me
you said to do it," he mumbled. "She said...was supposed to
help."

"Beck, what
are you talking about?" I tapped his cheeks, trying to keep him awake and
talking while I looked at the door and waited for Kesha to come back with Javi.
"Beck! Talk to me! Keep talking, buddy!""

"Didn't do
it, Dax," he kept repeating as he shook his head in what looked like an
attempt to clear his mind of some memory. "Didn't do it."

"What didn't
you do, Beck?" I shook him a little harder and tried to sit him up.

"Dax, I'm
sorry," he mumbled and then started crying. I looked at him bewildered and
wondered what it was he was sorry for.

"It's okay,
Beck," I said as I pulled him to me and held him like a child, rocking
back and forth as he repeated over and over that he didn't do it. I whispered
all of the comforting things I could think of as I held my brother and rocked
him. "It's okay, Beck, you're gonna be okay. There's nothing to be sorry
for. I'm sorry I didn't get you help sooner."

"Not your
fault," he murmured as he brought a hand up and patted my arm before it
became too difficult and he let it fall back into his lap. I wanted to know
what drug he had taken. If we didn't know, then whatever Javi might give him
could cause a negative reaction, and if it was bad enough, it might kill him.

"What did you
take, Beck?" I asked over and over. "What did you shoot?"

"Didn't take
drugs," he mumbled. "Didn't do it. One day at a time."

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