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n Eric’s life, he walked away from his family. And as the old oak door shut behind him and silenced all the noise, he didn’t know whether he felt sad or just…relieved.

CHAPTER SEVEN

BETH TRIED NOT TO LET HER stage fright over tonight’s class ruin the whole day. A shipment from their highest-end lingerie line was in, and one of Beth’s favorite tasks was unpacking box after box of gorgeous silk. It felt like Christmas to her: exciting and surprising and she always ended up spending a lot of her own money.

The gorgeous silk was even enough to distract her from her thoughts about the Kendalls, but it still weighed heavily at the back of her mind. Monica hadn’t responded to the email, and for all Beth knew she didn’t even use that email address anymore.

Beth had hit Google again, first thing this morning, but she’d found nothing more than the day before. It was as if no one else cared about this story except her. But the Donovans must care. They’d apparently been robbed and defrauded and violated. Did Eric blame Beth? Surely not. He’d been determined to do business with the Kendall Group. Beth had just facilitated that. And she clearly owed him nothing, regardless.

Beth hung up the last of her favorite baby-doll nightgowns and headed back to her office with a sigh. If she could just find out what had happened with the Kendalls and then get through tonight’s class, everything would be fine. For a couple of weeks. Until it was time for the next evening class.

Determined to take control of at least one part of her life, Beth looked up Monica’s company, High West Air, and called the main number.

“Ms. Kendall isn’t in the office today,” the receptionist said with a weary edge to the words, as if she’d spoken them a thousand times over in the past few weeks.

“Can I leave a message? Please tell her that Beth Cantrell called. I truly need to speak with her about a personal issue.”

The receptionist promised to deliver the message, but Beth wasn’t hopeful. The family had to be in lock-down mode. To her surprise, her cell phone rang a few seconds later. “Hello?”

“Beth? It’s Monica Kendall.”

It had been years, but the cool voice was immediately familiar. Beth blinked in surprise. “Monica! How are you?”

“Oh, things are crazy. Just awful. I guess that’s what you were calling about.”

“It was, yes.”

She sighed. “I saw your email. I’m sorry I didn’t have time to respond.”

“It’s okay. I know you must be overwhelmed.”

“I am!”

She waited a few beats, but when Monica didn’t continue, Beth decided to just jump right into it. “I don’t really know how to say this, so I’ll just be honest. I know someone who works at the brewery—one of the Donovans, actually—but I wanted to call you to find out what had happened.”

“One of the Donovans, huh? I bet it’s that little slut, Jamie, isn’t it?”

Beth actually gasped. She didn’t know why. She didn’t even know the man, but Monica’s offhand insult sent a jolt of shock through her body. “I…”

“He’s the one who got me pulled into this bullshit,” Monica snapped.

“Oh. I thought your brother was the one in trouble. The news said he’d left the country.” Fled the country was more like it, but Beth tried the diplomatic route.

“This is all Graham’s mess. All of it. I had nothing to do with it, despite what Jamie Donovan says.”

“Nothing to do with what? I still have no idea what’s going on.”

Monica sighed in that exact same irritated way she’d used to whenever Beth had been unwilling to sleep in the TV room of the dorm so that Monica could be alone with her boyfriend of the week. “It’s unbelievable. Graham got himself into deep shit in Vegas. Gambling. Coke parties. Hookers. What a complete loser. He fell into debt and started dealing with some contacts overseas. You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t know,” Beth said patiently. Was this some sort of rich people talk?

“Eastern Europeans. The Chinese. There’s plenty of money to be made if you’re selling the right goods.”

“What goods?”

Monica laughed, the sound dripping with condescension. “Social Security numbers, credit card numbers. Very popular items in the emerging markets.”

What Beth wanted to say was, “You sound awfully high-and-mighty for a woman whose family is under investigation for criminal activity,” but she bit her tongue and waited for the urge to pass. She’d done a lot of tongue biting during her freshman year of college, and it was a little like riding a bike. She still knew how to work Monica Kendall. “But how did you get dragged into this, Monica?”

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