He knew. She didn’t know how he’d discovered she’d been fired, but he knew. The fury radiating off him filled her with the urge to run. Her knees grew weak and she swayed. “How did you find out?”
“That you were accused of stealing money and fired?”
She nodded.
“AJ called a colleague in Houston.”
“I didn’t steal the money. Erin did.”
“That’s easy to say when there wasn’t any evidence.”
“I wish there had been since it would’ve cleared me. But I’m telling the truth.” McKenna clasped her hands in front of her. “You have to believe me. Erin confessed that night when I asked her if she knew anything about the missing money. Her latest loser boyfriend had been stealing her share of the rent before he ran off. We had a client, Mr. Jenkins, who loved to flash cash. It made him feel important. My appointment with his daughter, him, and his wife ran late. When my next client arrived, Erin offered to finish the paperwork and take their deposit. When he gave her seven crisp hundreds and a fifty, she pocketed the bills.”
“That’s a good story, but as many times as you recited it for the police could make it sound damn believable.”
He towered over her. His body tense, his gaze shuttered. “Did you tell Ginny about what happened?”
McKenna shook her head. “I hinted I left on good terms.”
“You lied.”
His words rang in her ears.Everyone lies. The only difference is some people lie almost constantly and on important matters.
She’d proved him right. “Yes.”
“That’s why you took an assistant position.”
“I was unemployed for a year and a half.” Her cheeks burned as she fought the tremors and nausea threatening to overtake her. “I was honest in my first interviews, but no one believed me without proof.”
“I’ll make a deal with you. Return Ginny’s shadow box, and I won’t press charges.” His eyes dull, his voice remained flat.
“Ginny’s shadow box? The one behind her desk?”
He nodded. “It’s missing. That’s why I tore apart the office.”
McKenna tore into Ginny’s office. Behind her desk, where the shadow box should have been was empty wall. She closed her eyes, praying the box materialized when she opened them. But no. How could this be happening? Again? How could she be blamed again for something she didn’t do? Not when her life was perfect. When she had everything she wanted. Not when she loved Zane.
Standing behind Ginny’s desk, she placed her hand on the wall, unable to believe the reality facing her. “It was here when we left last night.” She grabbed the filing credenza, yanked it forward, and collapsed on the floor, searching, praying she’d find the frame.
“Don’t bother. I checked everywhere.”
McKenna crawled along the floor, searching under the desk. “It has to be here. It can’t walk off.”
“It can if you stole it. That’s the only explanation left. The doors haven’t been tampered with. Whoever took it had a key. That’s three people. Me, Ginny, and you.”
She stood and faced Zane, flinching at the accusation ringing in his voice and clouding his gaze. “Why would someone take the shadow box? All it has is sentimental value.”
Muscles bulged in his neck, and a vein throbbed wildly in his forehead. “The pin’s been in my grandfather’s family for generations. He gave it to Ginny on their wedding day. He always said he thanked his lucky stars the day he met her. The last time Ginny had the pin appraised it was worth almost six grand.”
“You’re kidding?”
“I’m dead serious, sweetheart.” His sneer, his hands clenching and unclenching along with the bitterness when he said sweetheart sliced through her, leaving a raw, gaping wound.
“What on earth is a pin worth that kind of money doing hanging on the wall? It should be in a safe somewhere.”
“You had no idea how much it was worth? That’s hard to believe.”
“My first day here Ginny pointed out the shadow box. She told me about her husband, the pin, and how the ranch got its name, but she never said it was valuable. In fact, she said it was rhinestones.”
