Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Christmas Eve had never been Jason’s favorite day of the year, but today it was particularly miserable. Pouring himself a glass of scotch, Jason studied the amber liquid, the musky, rich scent filling his nostrils. He sipped, his eyes roving the view from his high-rise.
The familiar buildings of Chicago blinked with the electric pulse of the city. When he’d first come back to Chicago from college, some of his friends had called him crazy—telling him he should try another city. New York, they said. Finance capital of the world.
But Chicago was home. Chicago, where he’d gone to baseball games with his father and Kevin as a kid. Where they’d gone boating on Lake Michigan every summer.
He squeezed his eyes shut, sipping his drink. It burned his throat.
Since he’d been home, he hadn’t shaved once. Hadn’t gone for a single run. Hadn’t flipped on the television. He’d gotten a note slipped under his door that his mail was piling up in the mailbox. But he still hadn’t gone to check it.
Nothing about this place felt like home.
Each time he closed his eyes, he was haunted by thoughts of the betrayal on Jen’s face. Or worse still, thoughts of the good moments. The times she’d melted into his kisses. He missed her, and Colby, too. One night he’d visited Jen at the guest lodge, and Colby had woken up with night terrors, like Kevin.
Colby was undeniably Kevin’s son, and not just because of night terrors and his looks. His obsession with trains, his quirky sense of humor. Even his laughter reminded him of Kevin.
He missed Kevin, too.
He’d considered finding a date for the evening, just so he wouldn’t be the pathetic loser alone.
But maybe he deserved it. Deserved to be alone. He’d killed them all, hadn’t he?
At Kevin’s funeral, his grandfather had given him that sharp look like he was thinking it, too. Mom’s broken heart. Kevin’s depression. His father’s accident.
All his goddamned fault.
He turned. He’d barely even moved in here. A decorator had arranged for some furniture, but most of his things were still in storage. He didn’t even have a single photo of a family member here.
The picture he treasured the most—one of him, Kevin, and his parents—was still in his office at Cavanaugh Metals. The last picture they’d taken together.
He wanted it back.
If he couldn’t have family, couldn’t have anyone with him on damned Christmas of all nights, he was going to have his picture. The Powells may have taken everything else he had—but they couldn’t take that.
He set his drink down, then grabbed his keys. He headed out of the apartment without bothering to grab a coat. He punched the button beside the elevator, nodding a hello to a neighbor in the hallway. Not that he knew it was a neighbor. He didn’t know any of his neighbors.
What was it that TJ had said about Brandywood? It was a place where you wouldn’t be alone? Something fruity like that. But that didn’t make it wrong, either.
The drive to the corporate office for Cavanaugh Metals wasn’t far—it was part of why he’d chosen his apartment when he separated from Amanda. Just a couple of train stops on the L. With it being Christmas, he pulled up in front, the street parking more open than ever.
Hopefully, they wouldn’t have disconnected his badge. Then again, he didn’t have to try it. The doorman saw him approach and opened it. “Mr. Jason! Haven’t seen you around for a few weeks.”
“I had some out-of-town business.” He nodded toward the elevators. “Any chance you can swipe me up to the office? I just came for some papers, and I think I left my badge at home.”
The doorman grinned. “Working even on Christmas, eh? Sure, no problem.”
Although he’d spent most of his childhood coming through these doors, Jason’s heart pounded as the doorman let him inside the office. Jason slipped toward his office. When he arrived, he noticed the door nameplate had been changed again. Chad Duncan , CEO.
Damn jackass.
Jason’s key worked on the door, regardless. If they’d disconnected his badge, they probably wouldn’t have thought they needed to change the lock.
Chad had made himself at home. Jason’s things appeared to be shoved into a few paper boxes by the closet. He paused in front of the giant desk, tempted to piss in the chair. No matter how terrible his grandfather had been at times, Chad didn’t deserve to be in his chair.
Jason’s eyes fell on the quarterly report on the desk and he lifted it. He hadn’t seen it come through the mail yet, but then again, he’d been gone and hadn’t checked the mail.
Flipping it open, he stared at the numbers.
Then he frowned.
What the hell was this?
There was no way in hell they were posting profits like that. He’d run these numbers right before the last meeting with Chad and Bill Powell. These weren’t even close.
Taking the report, he moved over to where they had apparently stashed his things. He lifted the lid and checked—the picture with his family was on top. He lifted both boxes, then edged his way out of the office.
Instead of going back to the main door, he headed for an intern’s desk. The interns were the only ones who had computers he might successfully use to log in to the internal database. He knew the password they were issued—and the software for accounting was loaded onto their computers, even if they didn’t have the passwords to get on.
Jason set his boxes down on the floor, then booted the computer. He logged on without a problem, then went into the applications. Opening the accounting software, a pop-up displayed instantly, asking for the username and password.
Would his old one work?
He tried it. An error message displayed. He tried once again, in case he had mistyped.
Still an error message.
Leaning back in his seat, he narrowed his gaze at the screen. Only a few people had credentials. Bill. Chad. Jason’s assistant. The IT guy.
His grandfather.
His grandfather...had had the credentials .
What if they hadn’t removed his information from the system yet?
Jason still remembered helping his grandfather set everything up. And his password. Typing in his grandfather’s username and password, he hit enter.
And he was in.
Jason fist-pumped, then grinned. He clicked through into the panel he was looking for, checking the numbers.
Something was seriously off.
Time seemed to fly as Jason continued his search, printing and taking screenshots as he went. He doubted he’d have another chance to get into the system like this. The simple fact that he’d come on Christmas Eve when no one was here was a future circumstance that was rarely duplicated.
And who knew how long it would take the IT guy to see that his dead grandfather had logged on to the system when he returned after Christmas?
When he finished, Jason emailed himself the screenshots. He logged off and gathered a stack of papers from the printer. Then he grabbed his boxes and slipped back out.
Amanda opened the door to her house, then did a double take at Jason as though shocked to see him. She crossed her arms. “Did you get lost?”
“Hilarious,” Jason snapped, breezing past her. Being back in their house had a strange vibe to it. They’d bought this place together. But Amanda had liked it so much she hadn’t wanted to leave. He stopped just past her in the foyer, then turned to face her. “I’m going to give you one chance to tell me the truth, and if you don’t, I swear I will never trust a single thing you say again.”
Amanda stared at him in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“That Chad’s been fudging the numbers. He’s inflating profits by overestimating the value of the product being sold to Duncan Motors but then selling the goods to Duncan at a discount. I’m sure it’s to show a more optimistic forecast for the shareholders and keep the stocks from dropping. Now look at me and tell me the truth—did you know?”
The shock on her face looked genuine. “What? He wouldn’t be that stupid, would he?”
Jason stared at her.
“How do you know?” she gasped.
Would she lie? She had every reason to. This could sink Powell Enterprises and Cavanaugh Metals. And Chad could face jail time, possibly even her father.
But she was the mother of his child now. Whatever he did with this information would affect not only Amanda but his son, too. It complicated things in a way that made him uncomfortable and unsure of how to proceed. He had no problem seeing Chad in jail. He had a major problem with his son’s mother facing that situation.
The ethics of it all made him sick. How far would he be willing to go to protect Amanda if she was involved?
How far would he be willing to go to protect his son?
The only way to find out would be to offer Amanda a smidgeon of trust.
Jason handed her the quarterly report he’d found on Chad’s desk, open to one page he’d circled. Amanda scanned it. She stared at it. When her hand lifted to her mouth, there was a quickness to it. “Hang on. I have to go throw up. I get really sick this time of day.”
She dropped the report and rushed off to the powder room, gagging. She didn’t close the door, and Jason stepped to the side, trying to give her privacy. Had they still been together, he would have gone after her, but a strange awkwardness settled over him. Navigating how to be around the mother of his child would probably present many more moments like this.
When she came back out, she looked shaky and pale. She dabbed a tissue to her lips and waved him over to the sitting room. Slipping her long legs to the side, she sank into a chair there. “I didn’t know about the numbers, Jason. I can understand if you don’t want to believe me, but it’s the truth.”
Could it be? He trusted her less than anyone else. And she had a lot to lose here. Jason followed her and sat beside her. The last time he’d been in this room, they’d been yelling so loudly at each other he’d worried the neighbors would hear. “I don’t know exactly what our plans are, but we have to be honest—”
“I’m being honest.” A weary look crossed her face. “I didn’t even see the report yet.”
If he believed her, and that still felt like a big if , it would be a major relief. Either way, she was going to have to lawyer up and expect other people to assume she was lying because of her relationship with Chad. Fortunately, her job was with Powell Enterprises and not so much with Cavanaugh Metals. Her excuses just might hold.
“What about your father?” Jason lifted the report. “There’s no way he hasn’t seen this and doesn’t know.”
“Agreed.” Amanda shifted in her seat. “At least, that would be my assumption. You realize this will ruin him?”
“I know. And as much as I don’t like your dad, I also wouldn’t wish that on your family.” Not when they’re going to be tied to me forever.
Jason rubbed his eyes. He didn’t want to deal with this, especially not on Christmas Eve. Most of the people he would even contact wouldn’t be around right now. Then he gave her an odd look. The Powells always held a big Christmas Eve party. “You’re not with your family tonight?”
She sighed. “Not feeling that great, to be honest. Besides which, my parents aren’t thrilled that I’ve decided to have a baby right now. They say it’s embarrassing to the family. I mean, I’ll still show up at their place tomorrow morning. But I didn’t want to schmooze with all their friends tonight.”
“When my daughter came to tell me she was pregnant, I told her, ‘Jen, that’s my grandbaby, not bad news.’”
Her words were strikingly different from what Bob Klein had said about his response to Jen’s pregnancy. Maybe it was why Amanda had sought him out. He’d never really seen her behave so vulnerable before. Without Chad or her parents, she probably needed the support.
His brow furrowed. Speaking of Bob Klein—he might be a good person to ask about what he’d discovered regarding Chad.
“I can’t really keep this information to myself, Amanda. If your father knows about it—it’ll mean serious consequences for him. This is accounting fraud. It’s what took Enron down.”
Amanda released a slow breath, then sighed. “I understand. But be careful, Jas. My father doesn’t really hesitate to take revenge. And right now, he’s got enough about you to torch your name. Starting with the fact that your mother’s name wasn’t Sutter.”
Because of Ned Vickers. To be honest, he didn’t really care what Bill Powell said about him. And if his mother’s real identity was found out, so be it. Mom wouldn’t suffer the consequences, and he doubted anyone could do anything to Mildred. But Jen... He turned toward her. “Did Ned give you everything he gathered from Brandywood?”
Amanda hesitated. Then she smoothed her hand over her abdomen. “No.” She cleared her throat. “He still has most of it.” She appeared divided in her loyalties between Jason and her father. It was a surprise, actually. Amanda had always put her family first. They both had.
She’d told him she changed. That she wanted love and a family. It didn’t pardon her for having an affair with Chad, but it gave it context.
Context, he was learning, was everything.
Jason focused on the bare spot on the wall above the fireplace, where their wedding picture had once hung. She hadn’t put something new there yet. Or if she had—maybe she’d taken it down when she broke up with Chad. “Did you really mean what you said about wanting to keep our relationship friendly? For the sake of our child?”
She sighed and nodded. “I mean it, Jason. You may not have been the one I picked to have a child with, but I’m not stupid enough to think that means you won’t care about your son. Who knows? Maybe you’ll even extend some of that family mercy to your son’s mother.”
He took her hand and squeezed it, for the first time feeling a twinge of guilt about the way he’d dressed her down whenever he’d spoken to her since the separation. They might never be friends, but they could be friendly, couldn’t they? And if he was being a fool for trusting her, so be it. He’d spent enough of his life putting himself first. “I think I can manage that. But I’m begging you, I need to talk to Ned Vickers. And if you can, I need your help.”