Chapter Five
On Tuesday morning,there was a potted African Violet outside herdoor.
Elizabeth, the only string here is the one attached to this card. I keep offending you. For that, I amsorry.
“Nice try, but I’m not buying it.” She left the plant on the mail table on the first floor on her way out of thebuilding.
The snow swirled in violent eddies along the street and blew up her deep blue pencil skirt as she trudged to the T station. Pants would have beensmarter.
Huddled against the train’s window, she held onto the strap above her head to stay upright. She wrinkled her nose at the odd smells—eggs, stale sweat, and a hint ofurine.
Her phone found its way to her hand without conscious thought. No messages.Dammit.
She scrolled back through some of the older texts she and Alexander had exchanged, unable to hide hersmile.
He’d told her several times that she was lovely or beautiful, but mostly he’d complimented her personality and the stories she’d told about her life. He never failed to ask about her day and seemed genuinely interested in the little things she had tosay.
She’d learned much about him through those messages. His preference for running over cycling. His love of red wine, scotch, and a thick steak. And he was kind to his employees. That she’d discovered when he’d asked her opinion on the best holiday bonus forthem.
Chocolate gelato and the Beatles.Doctor Who, Firefly,andNCIS.The beach rather than the mountains. Winter over summer. Would they have found more common ground if she hadn’t broken itoff?
Elizabeth emerged from the T station into a biting wind. Damn the expense, shehadto get a warmer coat thiswinter.
By the time she arrived at Fenway, she was numb. A pretty, young secretary showed her in to a richly paneled office in a building adjacent to Fenway Park, then offered hercoffee.
Elizabeth practically dove for her phone when it buzzed, but Benny Hedgeman strode into the room before she retrieved the device. Wire-framed glasses rested low on his nose, and he smiled, his thin face heavilylined.
“Miss Bennett. It’s a pleasure.” He extended a bony hand and shook hers firmly. “I’m glad you came intoday.”
She swallowed hard. “I don’t know how I can help you, Mr. Hedgeman. I can’t divulge company policies and procedures. Not for five years. My confidentiality agreement prohibits it. I can’t tell you what I...know.”
He set an open Manilla folder on his desk in front of her, a knowing smile curving his lips. “And I cannot give you copies of the last tax returns we received from your former employer. If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I need to speak with mysecretary.”
Proof. Inches away. She watched the door snick closed and then quickly tucked the copies into her bag and shut the folder. Unfortunately, she had no idea what to do with the documents. Call the cops, confront CPH, do nothing…every option frightenedher.
Benny came back in a moment later and nodded when he saw the closed folder. “I appreciate your time, Miss Bennett. As does the club’s GM. I’ll walk youout.”
Elizabeth didn’t think about checking her phone until she walked in the door of her apartment. She couldn’t help her disappointment when the only new message was from her best friend,Kelsey.
On Wednesday, a fresh tin of tea waited at her door, wrapped in a pink silkribbon.
Elizabeth thought about dumping the tea out the window, but there hadn’t been any response to the jobs she’d applied to, and she couldn’t afford much more tea on herown.
Those damn copies of the Red Sox’s tax returns mocked her, daring her to make a decision. Should she go back to the Red Sox and show themhernumbers? Take her suspicions to the police? Or let Carter, Pastack, and Hayes get away with what looked more and more likeembezzlement?
She called ten Boston lawyers over the course of the morning, but as soon as she mentioned CPH, every one of them refused to speak with her. More than once she picked up her phone and contemplated calling Alexander. He ran a multi-billion-dollar business. He had lawyers at his beck and call. Though if CPHwasguilty of embezzlement, his company was likely affected. If she admitted her suspicions to him, he could and would force her hand, and she’d never be able to think of him fondly again. Though she’d abandoned all hope of a relationship with him, the memory of his smile, his eyes, and his scent brought warmth welling up inside ofher.
She cleaned up her files, made copies of everything, and sent an overnight package with a USB drive and a one-hundred-dollar check to her former lawyer inSeattle.
Thursday dawned with a freak ice storm. Still, Alexander managed to send a gift. Thomas arrived at her door with a black silk dress in a largebox.
The man was obsessed withsilk.
Elizabeth sent him away, the box still tucked under hisarm.
An hour later, the bell rang again. Elizabeth ran down the stairs, determined to tell Alexander to bugger off in no uncertain terms, but when she opened the door, a young man bundled up in a down jacket was waiting forher.
“Elizabeth Bennett?” he askedhopefully.
