Chapter 14
Cora
"I'm not going to be able to make that," I tell Alice. "Is that something you can handle for me?"
I don't miss the way her eyes brighten. My assistant had told me the day I interviewed her for the job that she was hoping that there would be room for advancement in her position. Although I assured her there was, I don't think that she believed me.
"You're sure? It's a very important luncheon," she says, caution in her tone.
I can tell she doesn't want to get too excited in case I change my mind.
"You know the proposition backward and forward. I think it's a great idea."
"Thank you," she says, barely able to contain her giddiness.
Alice is one of the good ones. She joined Chapter One right out of college with a degree in political science, knowing she could get a much higher paying job than the one we offered here.
"I won't let you down. I'll—"
"Leave us, Alice."
I look around my assistant to William who just entered my office like he was raised with no manners at all.
"You're ready for this," I tell her before nodding to let her know everything is fine.
I keep the fake smile on my face until Alice closes William and me in the office alone.
"What is your problem? And just who do you think—"
"Do you think I want to be here?" he snaps, walking to my desk and throwing what appears to be a bank statement of some sort down in front of me. "I tried calling your cell phone but it says it's out of service."
"I got a new number."
"And you didn't think it was pertinent to give it to me?"
I pull my new cell phone from my purse and shoot off a text to him. "Now you have it. Besides, my office line works. You could easily call me on that one."
"There are certain conversations we can't have on unsecured lines."
I open my mouth to remind him he's being paranoid, but then I remember why I had to get a new phone in the first place. I didn't know if they were able to tap phone lines, so I opted for a brand-new number just to be safe.
For some reason, I made sure Mr. Anderson had it but didn't consider William needing it as well.
"What is this?" I ask, picking up the statement, but I know what this conversation is going to be about the second my eyes lock on the ten-thousand-dollar transaction.
"Why exactly are you tracking my transactions?" I snap.
I hate the idea of anyone knowing what I've been doing, but my little brother finding out I went there makes my skin crawl. I still feel dirty for what I participated in while I was there, despite everyone's assurances that they were there of their own free will.
"Everything we do is being tracked. I'm just glad our people found this before someone else did."
"We're being tracked?"
William hisses a huff of irritation. "All politicians are tracked and everyone connected to them. Donors want to know we're spending their money where we said we would. Constituents want to know we aren't living too lavish of a lifestyle while they suffer. Opponents want to find dirt on our families to splash across the media. Of course, we're being tracked."
"This is private," I snap, waving the paper between the two of us.
"Nothing is private! You should know that better than anyone.Care to explain why you were at a fucking brothel?"
I snap my head back at his anger. William can usually keep it together, making this a side of him I don't see very often.
"Care to explain why they asked me if I wanted to put my visit on the family account or if I wanted to pay for it separately?" I counter.
This gives him pause. "What?"
"Apparently, we have a family account."
"Chris?" he says. "Jesus Christ, this family is fucking doomed."
"What? No. He wouldn't. Would he?"
Will turns back to look at me. "Then who—no, gross. Not Dad."
I hold my hand up, the threat of bile burning the back of my throat.
"Seriously," he mutters, his nose scrunching up in disgust.
There aren't many times in recent years when William and I share a brother-sister moment, but I feel a level of solidarity with him for a brief second.
"I went there because it was the place those men mentioned in the meeting about Sadie," I explain. "I thought maybe I could find something out."
"You paid them a hundred thousand dollars so we don't have to go looking for her ourselves."
"I paid because I had no idea how to look for her."
"That is so dangerous," he says. "Not to mention the trouble you put the family in if someone saw you there and thought it would be a good idea to start whispering about it."
"I didn't see anyone other than employees. It was actually very discreet and professional."
He narrows his eyes at me. "And what exactly did you do while you were there?"
I stand a little taller, my lips sealed.
"I'm not discussing this with you. What is the plan for this transaction?" I ask, holding up the statement.
"My people have already made it look like a donation and, before you lose your shit, we won't file it on our taxes. I'm not going to fucking prison over ten grand." He turns his back to me, walking toward the door. "I'm busy, Cora. Stay out of trouble."
Then he's gone as if his warning and the chastisement are enough to keep me from worrying about our sister.
I've been restless since I got back from DC and this little visit from my brother has made that urge to get some answers even worse.
I knew before he showed up that I wouldn't be able to stay away. A week has passed since Cerberus assured us they'd start working on finding Sadie. We're inching up on a month of her being gone, and we're no closer to finding her than we were the day I started worrying when my initial phone call went to voicemail.
I check in once again with Alice to make sure that she is completely prepared for the luncheon with some potential new donors before calling it a day.
I try to tell myself I haven't made up my mind about my plans, but I head straight to my bedroom when I get home, not wasting a second to pack a bag that will give me enough clothes to stay at least a week before having to drop anything off at the cleaners .
My hand flutters over the silk robe hanging in my closet before I pull it from the hanger.
"Another trip away?"
Feeling guilty, I swivel in the direction of the voice, sparing a genuine smile for Faye.
The woman has been part of our household staff since before I was born, and, if anything, she's more grandmother than employee. I just adore her, even when she's being nosy.
"I have a business trip."
"You never were a very good liar," she says, shuffling into the room and taking a seat at the ornate vanity mirror where I apply my makeup each morning. "How long has it been since a man saw you in that thing?"
My cheeks heat without even looking down at the robe in my hands.
"Never."
She shakes her head. "Lies. All lies."
There's no anger or irritation in her voice, but I can guess what's coming before she even speaks. The woman is always on me to find a man, as if she didn't live her entire life without one.
"I'm heading to DC," I explain. "I'm helping look for Sadie."
"Now," she says, pointing at my face. "There's some truth in that. That sister of yours has always been the best liar I ever met, and that's saying something, considering the number of politicians I've served coffee to downstairs over the years."
"Do you think I'm wasting my time looking for her?"
Faye pulls in a deep breath before speaking. "Sadie has been a troubled girl for so long, sweet child. I don't know that if she were standing right in front of you if you could consider her found. Some people stay lost forever. "
Her eyes cloud as if she's thinking of something else, but she doesn't whisper about times past or things she has had to deal with in her own life.
"Maybe getting out of town for a while is a good idea. You seem sad, sweet child, and I hate it when you're sad."
She grunts when she stands, the effort required clear in the lines on her face, but she doesn't complain about pain or getting old, before shuffling right back out the door.
Mr. Yarrow complained that I'd only be in his way, that I risked ending up exactly like Sadie if I stuck my neck out while they were investigating her disappearance, but I can't help but see my opportunity to help. I can probably go places he'd look suspicious just because I'm a woman. As much as it disgusts me, there are certain lines that aren't supposed to be crossed in society.
I'm the fairer sex, the weaker sex, according to some. I'm less of a suspect.
He can use me. I know he can. Besides, staying here and doing nothing is driving me crazy. The man may not want me to put my nose in the middle of his investigation, but if he wanted me to stay out of it, he should've worked harder and faster.