“It is.”
“I am calling on behalf of Mr. Alessandro Luque. He needs to speak with you. Will you hold?”
Hailey agreed, but her mouth went dry. She’d expected a return email, not a phone call from her client—she hadn’t even realized he had her personal number. Perhaps Gleason had given it to him, but she would have thought her boss would have asked her permission before doing so. She snapped the high-chair tray in place and stepped into the hallway.
A click sounded, then a now-familiar deep voice rumbled across the line. “Mrs. Nieland, thank you for accepting my call.I received your email and would like to arrange a meeting to discuss your concerns.”
“Of course. Something came up, so I’m not in the office today, but we could set up a video call anytime you like.”
“That won’t do. I’m not comfortable with those ... video chat services.” She could almost see his finger making a swirling motion during the slight pause. “Technology is wonderful, but there is too great a risk of being hacked—as last weekend’s incident illustrates. I prefer to handle important meetings in person.”
“I understand, but like I said, I’m not in the office today, and I probably won’t be back in for several days.” If that. She had no idea how long it would be until it was safe for her to show her face in town again.
“Am I to understand that Eukaria’s accounts are low priority for you?” An edge crept into his tone.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all.” She bit her lip. How much should she tell him? That someone—possibly someone associated with his company—had tried to kill her yesterday? She wanted answers, but she’d hoped to take a safer approach than going back out in the open before she knew what was going on.
Before she could figure out how to answer, he spoke again. “If Eukaria’s patronage is important to Pendleton Accounting, I suggest you reconsider.”
She swallowed hard. “Of course. Could I call you back after I look at my schedule?”
“Do that. Ask for Katherine. She’ll handle the details on my end.” With that, he hung up.
Hailey leaned against the wall. What was she going to do? She couldn’t lose Pendleton Accounting’s biggest client because she was afraid to leave her house—or her parents’ house, as it were. But she also couldn’t justify risking her life and the lives of those around her just to appease an overgrown spoiled brat.
Maybe she should have thrown professionalism to the wind and told him she’d had a personal emergency. She had a feeling hewouldn’t have accepted that as an excuse either. If she’d wanted to sway him, it probably would have required spilling all the details.
Which she was going to have to do anyway. Well, maybe notallthe details. He didn’t need to know about Wesley or everything that had gone on the past few days. But she was going to have to tell him about her findings and suspicions, and—depending on how that went—possibly about the attempt on her life yesterday.
A sigh escaped her lips. Perhaps this was for the best. She needed answers if she was going to have any hope of her life returning to normal, and Eukaria’s CFO was in the best position to help her find them. He would be able to figure out who had access to the accounts and who might be embezzling money. And he should also be able to look at the payments and services she had questions about and tell her whether they were legitimate or suspect.
Before she could second-guess herself, she redialed the number Eukaria had called from. She didn’t actually need to look at her schedule—that had simply been a way to buy time so she could think things through.
After speaking with Katherine, she pocketed her phone and headed back into the kitchen. Now she’d have to face her family and Peter. They weren’t going to like this development.
27
That evening, Hailey rechecked her makeup and smoothed a wrinkle from her suit as she again waited near the third-floor elevator doors at the1798Building. Her scratches and scrapes itched like crazy, and she longed to go back to a T-shirt, shorts, and a makeup-free face. But she needed to look professional and not like a tomboy who’d spent yesterday afternoon climbing trees—and falling out of them.
She’d been right about the reaction to her plan. Everyone—especially Peter—had tried to tell her it was a bad idea to come here. And they were probably right. She couldn’t deny that fact, especially after yesterday. But between Alessandro Luque’s demands and her suspicions that the attacks on her life were somehow related to Eukaria’s accounts, she didn’t feel like she had much choice. She needed to get to the bottom of things. She just hoped this approach wouldn’t turn out to be a grave mistake.
But she had done everything she could to minimize the risks. She’d managed to arrange an after-hours meeting to avoid crossing paths with any of her coworkers and to ensure Peter would be the guard on duty. Regardless of whether any of the other guards were trustworthy, she knew he was. Peter’s friend Miguel had been available, and he’d stationed himself in the side parkinglot. When she was ready to leave, he would accompany her back to her parents’ house.
The local police also knew she was here and were supposed to be increasing patrols in the area. Eric had offered to provide her a police escort to and from town, but that had too much potential for attracting undue attention. She’d decided flying under the radar with Miguel as her sole escort was probably safer.
To that end, she’d borrowed her mom’s car, a nondescript sedan, and worn a baggy shirt and jeans along with a ball cap and sunglasses. Not the greatest disguise, but it was different enough from her normal attire to avoid calling attention to herself. She’d changed into professional clothes after arriving safely at the office. Before she left, she’d change back. Hopefully, her efforts to conceal her identity would be enough.
This time, Alessandro Luque arrived right on schedule, his guards in tow.
After they exchanged pleasantries and were alone in the conference room, he fixed a penetrating gaze on her. “How did you receive your injuries?”
She blinked at the forward question. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Come now, Mrs. Nieland, don’t play dumb.” He gestured toward her. “I noticed your black eye at our previous meeting. Now your hands are covered in scratches.”
She forced herself not to hide her hands under the table. She’d hoped he wouldn’t notice them, but the damage was already done. Hiding them now would only broadcast how uncomfortable he was making her.
“I’ve done my homework,” he continued. “I looked into you and your background. Seen recent photos. You don’t normally wear heavy makeup. If I had to guess, I would say you’re covering up more than a black eye.”
