Chapter 10 - Paisley
Not even Dan could make me lose my appetite after only picking at my breakfast and then spending the entire day on the slopes.
Little kids were like machines, with way more energy than they needed.
I was ready to collapse into the overstuffed armchair in my room, and settled my plate onto the desk, pulling out my phone.
Big mistake. Mel’s family member had replied to my message from that morning, informing me that he’d been found. And it wasn’t good news. The simple message was so somber, ending with a heartfelt thanks for caring and reaching out that I wrote back again.
There wasn’t much to say except the basic condolences and polite but meaningless asking if there was anything I could do.
I couldn’t exactly tell her I thought Mel was kind of a creep who was probably doing something shady, and it was true that I didn’t think he deserved to be killed.
Unless the shady dealings were much deeper than fudging a few numbers for a corporate account.
It could still be coincidental, but I was becoming more and more certain that I had stumbled into something I wanted out of.
Did my boss actually know what that list was, or was Erica just sweeping up all the papers on the desk because she thought I was spying on Mr. Caraggio for some reason?
If she did know what the list meant, did she believe I had seen it and questioned it?
Was I actually in danger, and not just of being unemployed when this nanny job ended?
My appetite was destroyed, but I forced down the meal anyway, since there was sure to be another active day ahead of me tomorrow. Constant glances at my phone had me on edge and I finally shoved it aside, not as successful in shoving aside the worry that nagged me.
There was a light knock at my door and I called that it was open. Stephan’s mom, Olivia poked her head in, asking if I minded taking over bath time.
Jumping up, I assured her that was what I was there for, mentioning that it hardly felt like work at all so far.
“That’s nice to hear,” she said. “Sometimes Stephan tries to bite off more than he can chew, but Dan told me during dinner that you kept them all well in hand.”
Well, that was unexpected, but I wasn’t about to get complacent over one little compliment.
She promised to come back up in a half an hour to take over bedtime reading, and by the time Stephan was in his jammies, Alina wanted to show me the videos she found of junior snowboarding competitions.
In her pale blue nightgown and all her long curls free in a tangle instead of in her no nonsense braid, she looked younger than six.
For a moment I wondered what kind of world she was growing up in.
Just two days ago I thought my job was annoying but safe. Now I had no idea about anything.
Her father Aleks, who intimidated the hell out of me despite his big smile, came in to tell Alina to put away her tablet and get to bed.
I was left to my own devices again, but I politely declined the invitation to join the card game starting up downstairs.
If there was even a small chance Dan would be part of it, I wasn’t going anywhere near it.
The afternoon was plenty. The only way to make sure I didn’t see him was to head back to my room.
A movie would have been a better idea than checking my phone yet again, but it seemed to be calling to me with a chance at updates. Maybe something definitive would happen and both Jordan’s and Mel’s death would have suddenly been determined to be accidents and not murder.
There was a new notification, but not from any of the family members I’d been messaging. I stared at it for a long time, thinking it had to be a joke.
This is Special Agent Pierce with the FBI. Please get in touch with me regarding any information you may have about the recent death of Mel Ferguson.
The freaking FBI was messaging me? Who knew enough to make a joke like that, though?
This isn’t funny, I typed, ready to block him.
I agree. I was told by his sister that you might have information and that you were willing to help.
My heart stopped trying to break through my rib cage, but only by a little bit. It was scary enough when I thought someone was trolling me, and someone knew I was looking into the disappearances. But it somehow being real was worse.
I felt bad, because I didn’t have any information, but I messaged this so-called FBI agent back again. Is it okay if I video call you? I’d like you to prove who you are.
The answer was instantaneous. Yes, I’m ready to take your call.
I rushed downstairs, jamming my feet into a pair of boots sitting beside the back door, and threw my coat over my shoulders. Once I was far enough from the house, I sat on a bench and took a deep breath. Hit the button to connect a video call.
Special Agent Pierce sat in a small, nondescript office with something that looked like a diploma or some kind of award behind him on the plain white wall.
He wore a white shirt and a thin black tie, his hair was military short and the smile he gave me was stiff.
He certainly looked like what I believed an FBI guy would look like.
But he had the proof I requested and held up his photo ID from the agency.
“You can search for me in the public database as well,” he said, his smile relaxing. “It’s good to be skeptical.”
“I don’t think I can be of any real help to you,” I said. “I only just found out about Mel’s death from his sister.” I closed my mouth before I mentioned Jordan, but he beat me to the punch.
“Are you aware of another employee by the name of Jordan Alcase?”
I started to shake. It got worse when he named off two more people who were on the list, all but confirming they were also dead. Before I could answer, he asked me about my experience at Axon.
“What about it?” I asked, feigning ignorance. “I worked as a junior accountant. Not much to tell.”
“Were you ever given special tasks? Anything that might have raised a red flag, like hiding money, perhaps making large transfers from one account to another?”
“I was too low on the totem pole for anything like that,” I said. “I crunched numbers and filed reports.”
“Okay.” He looked down, tapped on a keyboard that was off screen. “Did you work with David Caraggio in any capacity?”
I jumped up and began pacing through the snow, the chill running through me having nothing to do with the cold winter night. How did he know about Mr. Caraggio already?
“He’s one of my floor supervisors.” I felt cold all over. “What about him?”
“He’s just been reported missing and has been added to my investigation,” Agent Pierce said, looking up to give me a grim stare. “Listen, Miss Moore, you need to tell me exactly where you are. I’d like to speak to you in person and—”
I whipped the phone away from my ear, whirling around at the sound of footsteps crunching through the new snow. If the special agent was about to tell me I was in danger I didn’t hear it, ready to throw hands to defend myself.
It was only Dan, a big grin on his face for making me jump out of my skin.
I ended the call and stuffed my phone in my pocket, trying not to hyperventilate.
I could not lose this job. I was safe here, and there was no way I was going back to LA until the FBI could assure me everyone involved with those deaths and disappearances was in custody. Maybe not even then.
Dan held up his hands. “Don’t tell me I’ve got you all upset again? I was just out for a stroll under those beautiful stars. Care to join me?”
“No,” I snapped.
“Well, I’ll just follow you back in again,” he said, his eyes roaming over me. “The view will be even better.”
“That’s bad even for you,” I said.
He grinned, not at all offended. “You kind of smiled.”
“I certainly didn’t.” What did I have to smile about?
“Is everything okay?” he asked, fooling me for a second that he might actually be concerned. “Or do I need to help you take your mind off something?”
It almost seemed like he was purposely trying to rile me up to take my mind off of the ultra disturbing phone call. Being mad at him was better than being scared out of my wits. He looked me up and down again with a shrug.
“I’m at your service,” he said.
“Are you trying to be nice? Is that what this is?”
“Is it working?” He took a step closer. I took a step back.
“Oh my God, you’re just trying to get me to fall back in bed with you,” I said.
He shrugged again, his grin wider than ever. “I might be.”
I huffed, storming past him toward the lodge to the sound of his laughter.