Page 24 of The Mood Board

Chapter 10

Bailey

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I SCROLLED THROUGHmy list of contacts until I found Tom’s name, but my hands were shaking so badly that it still took me several tries before I hit the right contact card to dial the number.

It rang and rang as I continued to pace, trying hard to be patient and failing miserably.

“Hi, you’ve reached Thomas Kinnear. I’m unable to answer your call at the moment, so please leave a detailed message or call my assistant at—”

I hung up before the message could continue and redialed, only to get Tom’s voicemail again.

“Come on,” I moaned, swallowing to keep the tears back. “Please, please, please pick up. Pick up!”

The third time I called, it went immediately to voicemail, and I wondered if he was getting tired of my calls and had either rejected it or turned his phone off. But when Tom answered the fourth call immediately, I realized he had been trying to call me back, and we had caught each other at the wrong time.

“Bailey, what’s wrong?” Tom sounded slightly wild. He knew I wouldn’t have called that many times just to say hello.

“They arrested Liam, and the FBI and police are searching the house,” I wailed.

Wailing wasn’t something I usually did, but it fit the moment. My head had been spinning since the moment they had knocked on the door, my anxiety so high since they led Liam away in handcuffs that my heart felt like it might explode from my chest. Tom seemed like a lifeline in this insane, horribly fantastical situation, and the tears I had been holding back pushed to the forefront and spilled over at the sound of his voice.

There was a long, silent pause before Tom said, “What?”

“They arrested Liam, and they’re searching the house,” I repeated, sniffing, and brushed away a tear tracking down my cheek with the back of my hand.

“They arrested Liam?” Tom asked dumbly. He sounded almost like Liam had when the arresting officer had told him why they were at our house. “Who is ‘they’?”

“Yes.” I sniffed again. “And it’s SPD and the FBI.”

“Why? What for?” I could hear shuffling in the background, and Tom’s voice took on the staccato edge that told me he was walking—maybe trotting.

“I don’t know. They won’t tell me a thing,” I wailed again. Between trying to get a hold of Liam’s lawyer, I had been trying to get information from the officers and agents, but all I got in reply was one-word answers that told me absolutely nothing.

“Did you get a hold of the lawyer?” was the next question.

“I tried, but he’s out of the country. His assistant was—is—trying to get ahold of him. I didn’t know how or if I should call the company’s lawyers or what. I—” I what? “I honestly have no idea what to do right now.”

I truly was at a loss, my mind blank and unable to see the next step. It seemed like a wave had crashed over me, and no matter how hard I struggled, it was carrying me away from the shore. Worse, I had no idea what to do about it, if I could do anything at all.

I couldn’t even run down to the precinct, demanding to see Liam. One, I was pretty sure that only happened in movies, and two, I had no idea where they had taken him. To a precinct? FBI headquarters, wherever that was? Again, no one would talk to me.

“I’ll be right there. Don’t move or say anything. I’ll see what I can do about the lawyers.” Tom was out of breath, and I heard the jingle of keys as he readied himself to leave. Scout, too, barked, probably upset by the flurry of activity and emotion.

“Okay.”

Tom ended the call without another word, and I sagged back against the wall, wondering what the hell was going on.

Only a few weeks before, everything had been bright. We were planning our wedding, busy but happy, and our companies were doing well. And then that damn letter had come and thrown everything upside down and tossed it around.

I wished I had never opened it.

Then again, this all would have happened anyway. Someone was targeting Liam with malicious intent, whether to bring him or his company down. Maybe both. Even if I hadn’t opened the letter, if it had somehow fallen down a drain or into the trash, or the mail carrier had lost it, someone would still be coming after Liam. They wouldn’t have stopped just because a single part of their plan hadn’t worked.

It was difficult to believe someone could hate my bright, sunshiny fiancé that much, but he did work in the cutthroat tech world. It didn’t matter that he was the kind of guy to give someone in need the shirt off his back. If a rival wanted what he had—technology, market share, even the company itself—I was sure they would do anything they could.

Though this seemed extreme. Something like this could likely ruin Liam in so many ways, from reputation to seized assets, and even tank his company.