Lane’s phone started ringing, and when he took it out and saw it was Samuel T., he answered with, “Are they here? I’m coming—”

“What are you doing!”

The woman who rushed into the office was sixty and built like the battleship she was. From her gunmetal-gray suit to the dinner-roll bun of her gray hair, Ms. Petersberg was a tightly wrapped piece of work who had been running William Baldwine’s business life for close to twenty years. But gone was the usual composure. Red-faced and wall-eyed, she was trembling, the reading glasses that hung down from her neck on a thin chain bouncing on her flat chest as she panted.

Lane kept his voice even. “Get your things. Get out.”

“You have no right to be in this office!”

Hysteria erupted from the woman, and she was surprisingly strong as she came at him, her fingers clawing at his face, her knees and feet kicking at him, shrill curses and condemnations punctuating the attack. Lizzie and Jeff lunged forward to try to peel her off, but Lane shook his head at them. Capturing her hands, he let her keep screaming as he eased her up against the bookcases as gently as he could.

By the time she’d worn herself out, that neat bun was looking like a tossed salad on her head and her breathing was so ragged, it was like she needed an oxygen feed or she was going to pass out.

“You can’t save him,” Lane said grimly. “It was too late for that some time ago. And I know you know things. The question you have to ask yourself is how much are you willing to pay for your loyalty to a dead man. I’m finding out more and more of what went on here, and I know you were a part of it. Are you willing to go to jail for him? Are you that insane?”

He said this even though he wasn’t sure whether he was going to call the Feds or not. Prison was usually a good inducement, however, and he wasn’t above using that leverage at the moment.

And besides, he told himself, if the fraud was as large as Jeff said it was? Then those lenders were going to start dropping dimes on their end when further payments were not made—and yes, some would call lawyers, and when the assets dried up even further?

It was going to be debt-mageddon at the BBC.

“He was a good man,” Ms. Petersberg spat. “Your father was always good to me.”

“That’s because you were useful to him. Don’t take it personally, and don’t ruin your own life over the illusion that you were anything other than something he could manipulate.”

“I will never understand why you boys hate him so much.”

“Then you need to wake up.”

When she broke free, he let her go so she could pat her hair down and reorder her clothing.

“Your father only ever had his family’s best interests and the interests of the company at heart. He was a …”

Lane went out-of-body as the woman proselytized about virtues she ascribed to a man who had none to speak of. All of that was not his problem, however. You couldn’t change the mind of an apostolate; you couldn’t save someone who didn’t want to get in the lifeboat.

So this ever-efficient woman was going to go down with her former boss.

Not his problem.

As his phone started to ring again, she concluded, “He was always there when I needed him.”

Lane didn’t recognize the number and let whoever it was go into voice mail. “Well, then, I hope you enjoy the fond memories—when you end up in jail.”

TWELVE

“Do you have any questions for me?”

As Mack put the inquiry out there, he sat back in his office chair and looked at his interviewee’s ring finger again. Still vacant. Suggesting this Beth Lewis was as unmarried as she had been at the start of their meeting.

Yeah, wow. Way to be professional, MacAllan.

“Are you going to need me to stay late frequently?” Beth put her palms out. “I mean, the candidate. Will the candidate have to? And it’s not because I’m afraid of working. But I take care of my mother and I’ll need to get coverage for her after five. I can arrange it, I just need a little notice.”

“I’m so sorry to hear, you know, that anyone is …” He wasn’t sure about HR policy, but he was certain he couldn’t ask too much about her personally. “That your mother …”

“She was in a car accident two years ago. She was on life support for months, and she has a lot of cognitive challenges now. I moved into her house to take care of her and, you know, we make it work. But I need a job to support us and—”

“You’re hired.”

Beth recoiled, her dark brows lifting. Then she laughed in a burst. “What? I mean, wow. I didn’t expect—”

“You’ve got four years of experience at the front desk of a real estate company. You’re personable, articulate, and professional. There’s nothing else I’m looking for really.”

“Don’t you want to check my references?”

He looked down at the résumé she’d given him. “Yeah. Of course.”

“Wait, that sounds like I’m trying to talk you out of it—but I am so excited. Thank you. I won’t let you down.”

As she got to her feet, he did the same, and he forced his eyes to stay on hers—because left to their own devices, they were liable to go on a walkabout heading south. Man, she was tall—and that was very attractive. And so was that long hair. And those eyes that were—

Crap. He probably liked too much about her to hire her. She was, however, very qualified.

Extending his hand across his desk, he said, “Welcome to the party.”

She held on to his palm. “Thank you,” she breathed. “You will not regret it.”

God, he hoped that was true. He was single, she might be single, they were both adults … but yeah, it was probably not a great idea to add “employer/employee sexual relationship” to that mix.

“I’ll walk you out.” Leading the way over to his office’s door and then across the reception area, he opened the exit wide for her. “Can you start—”

“Tomorrow? Yes, I can.”

“Good.”

The car she’d parked in the little gravel side lot was a Kia that was several years old, but as he escorted her to it, he saw that it was neat inside, clean on the outside, and with no dings or scratches on its silver body.