Chapter 17 #2
He tried to search for a way to cheer her up. “You want to game some more? Or how about that massage?”
“Actually, I should look at those other people now that Jordan Haynes was a bust.”
“You can do that anytime. I didn’t ask for your help so you can be stuck working for me.”
“No, I’ll do it now. It’ll distract me.”
“Okay,” he agreed with a nod. “As long as you don’t mind your terrible secret tagging along.”
She rose from her seat with a sigh. “I didn’t call you a terrible secret. That’s not what I meant.”
He wrapped an arm around her as they made their way upstairs to the office. “I know. I’m just teasing you.”
Her admission made him feel a little better. After they’d settled into her space in the office, he hovered behind her as she scoured the rest of the files. He’d have preferred a lazy morning with her, but he’d take whatever time he could get.
His mind created ways to move forward. Tonight, maybe he’d set up a private dinner on the beach. Could he fly her to Paris on Monday for a romantic walk by the Seine?
He flicked his gaze to the screen, wondering how much time this investigation would buy him when he spotted Jordan Haynes’s file on the screen. “You’re not back to him, are you?”
“No, but…in the last folder, the dates of absences looked familiar.” She poked her finger at the screen at the unauthorized access complaints filed against Jordan. “Look at the dates, March 15, April 9, April 22…”
She shifted back to the file of the other employee. “And these…”
“They match,” Alex said.
“They do. Which is kind of odd, right? This person…Marianne Wells is off every time one of these occurs?”
“Which makes it seem like maybe she was trying to deflect guilt,” Alex answered.
“Exactly,” Ava answered. “We should follow up on this.”
“Can’t do it today. No one’s in the office.”
“Well, we do have her home address,” she said as she scrolled up to the top of the record.
“I’ll drive,” Alex answered as he rose and kissed the top of her head.
They agreed to meet downstairs after changing, and he hurried to his bedroom to change. Everything felt right when they worked together. Maybe the investigation would actually help their relationship.
Maybe she’d feel the same way as he did about working together.
He tugged on a hoodie, pondering if he should take the gun with them. He’d have to give it to Ava. He couldn’t hit anything even if he tried.
“Hey, Sparky?” he called as he stepped into the hall. “You want to take the gun?”
She stepped out of her room in a black and silver jogging suit detailed with silver dachshunds in the hood. “Do you think we’ll need it? Is Marianne Wells…crazy?”
“I don’t know,” he answered. “I never met her.”
“You really need to go to the office on occasion. Let’s leave it. I still remember all my hand-to-hand combat.”
“Okay,” he said, sliding his hands around her shoulders as they descended the stairs. He grabbed the keys to his SUV, and they left the house, climbing into the car. Ava typed in the address, and he pulled out of the driveway.
“How are you feeling?” he asked as he followed the on-screen instructions.
“I’m okay. Oh, shoot.” She smacked a foot off the floor.
“What? You want the gun, after all?”
“No, I forgot my phone.”
“That’s okay. I’ve got mine,” he answered.
“I meant…never mind.”
His mind went straight to the message from Chris. He was glad she hadn’t seen it yet. “You wanted to see if Chris sent anything.”
“Yeah. He probably didn’t.” She puffed out a breath.
He considered offering to go back but decided he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to hear her say yes. He didn’t want to know how desperate she was to hear from Chris.
He slid his eyes sideways before he reached for her hand and squeezed it. “He doesn’t deserve you, Sparky.”
She gave him an unimpressed stare. “Thanks, Ace, but it’s not that simple.”
“I think it is,” he answered.
She shifted in the seat next to him, pulling her hand away as she stared out the window. He pressed his lips together. How had he screwed this up again?
Maybe he was pushing too hard, too fast.
“So, what do you think about a trip to Paris tomorrow?” he blurted, desperate to break the silence.
“Like the city in France?” she asked, her voice incredulous.
“The one and only.”
“Alex, we’re supposed to be investigating corporate financial fraud. What does Paris have to do with anything?”
The words sounded almost like an attack from his perspective. “I just…thought we’d take a break. Enjoy some croissants, take a walk by the Sienne, oh, maybe visit the Louvre. You love museums.”
“I…” Her lips moved but no words came out.
He’d left her speechless, he hoped in a good way.
“Think about it,” he said as he pulled up to a small Craftsman house with an overgrown garden. “We’re here.”
She slid her seat belt off and climbed out of the car. He joined her on the passenger side, assessing the house before they started up the narrow walk.
As they approached Marianne Wells' house, a chill ran down Alex's spine, unexplained yet ominous.
Ava noticed his hesitation. "You okay?"
"Yeah," he replied, forcing a smile. "Just a sudden chill. This case... it's getting to me, I guess."
They climbed onto the porch, the floorboards creaking underneath them.
Ava pressed the doorbell, the chime reaching them outside. She elbowed him, poking her finger at the doorknob.
He fixed his attention on the spot, noticing what she pointed out. The door stood ajar.
Ava offered him a confused glance before she rang the doorbell again.
No one answered.
“Maybe she just ran out,” Alex suggested.
Ava pounded on the glass of the door, and it creaked open. “Marianne?” she called, leaning into the house.
“Avs, no one’s home.”
“But her door’s open. So, maybe we could poke around a little.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal,” he responded as she craned her neck to study what she could see from the porch.
“So is hacking into the FBI to find the criminal record of someone’s fiancé.”
“Not someone’s. My wife’s. Big difference.”
“Still illegal,” she answered. “Come on. We’re not breaking, we’re just entering, so the worst we can get is trespassing. And that’s if we get caught.”
She lifted a foot, letting it hover in the air for a moment before she set it down inside the house. “Marianne? Marianne Wells?”
“Don’t touch anything,” he whispered as he stepped in behind her.
“Okay,” she hissed, tugging the sleeves of her hoodie down over her hands. “You go that way, I’ll go to the back.”
“No!” he growled. “We’re not splitting up. That’s how people get killed.”
“No one’s going to kill you, Ace. No one’s here.”
“You don’t know that. Someone could be lurking in a corner. “
“Fine, fine. We’ll stick together.” She slid her arm through his as they crept down the hall.
The silence of the house hung heavily around them as they ventured further inside. Each creaking step seemed to echo louder than the last, a stark reminder of the danger they faced.
“It’s kind of scary here,” he said with a wrinkled nose. “Something’s off.”
“Yeah,” she answered. “It’s eerily quiet.”
They peered into a bedroom, scanning it before they moved down the hall to a small bathroom.
“Ugh, that tile is hideous,” Alex said as he grimaced at the avocado-green color.
“I didn’t mind it,” she answered.
“Seriously? No.” He gave a disgusted groan.
“No green for Alex. Check,” she said as they approached a door at the end of the hall.
He stared at her, wanting to say something witty about her redecorating the house as his wife, but he couldn’t come up with anything.
Ava nudged the door open with her arm. It creaked on its hinges as it slowly swung open. Air swirled from the dusty ceiling fan overhead.
A gasp escaped from Ava, and she stiffened next to him.
He tore his eyes from her, letting them slide in the direction she gazed. His blood ran cold, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Sitting at the desk in the middle of the room, was Marianne Wells. A very dead Marianne Wells.