18. Sketchy emails
Chapter 18
Sketchy emails
LETTIE
T he pointer on my screen hovers over a strange email, and my finger itches to click the mouse.
Something stops me from opening it.
This is probably spam. Especially since it shows me as the sender. I might have memory issues and a squirrel running my brain, but I’m fairly certain I’d remember sending an email to myself.
I’m curious to see what’s inside, but I don’t want to infect all of Redleg’s servers by opening it.
Hold up. Don’t they have spam filters?How did it get through?
Picking up my desk phone, I call Tomer’s office. He’ll tell me if it’s safe to open. Isn’t that part of what IT people are for? The hell if I know. We didn’t have IT at Bask. But it sounds good, so I’m going with it.
He answers on the second ring. “Is it important, sugar?”
“You’re busy?”
“Yeah. Sue just got here to explain her theories on Yuri’s mythology bullshit. And we have an emergency video call in five minutes with the feds.”
“It isn’t important. It was just an email question. Go on.”
“Thanks. Talk later.”
And he hangs up.
I’m alone again. Just me and the email screaming at me.
Nope . I won’t be tempted or impulsive.
For once.
Papa always said even a blind squirrel finds a nut once in a while.
On second thought, I should go easier on myself. I’ve gotten better at tempering my reactions lately. Perhaps my baby is more like Tomer than me and is already balancing out my chaos.
I minimize the window displaying my inbox so it stops taunting me, then metaphorically pat my back.
It takes about two hours to work through most of the tasks Boss Dad gave me. Yet I still haven’t heard from Tomer.
Wonder if they ever decoded the Greek message inside the doll. I had to excuse myself to toss my cookies as per directive seven point three in Lettie’s Pregnancy Manual , entitled: Always Vomit After Key Announcements . Thoughts about Yev make me nauseous. Hearing about his murder was enough to trigger the directive.
When I got out of the restroom, Boss had more shit for me to do.
I’ll let them figure out the message on their own. I’ve done my part for now. If you need me, I’ll be over here just as humble as hell and not reading this sketchy-ass email.
Excuse my squirrel thought for a second. Is it okay to be a touch giddy that Yev was murdered in jail? At a minimum, it’s cool not to be sad about it, right?
You know what? Don’t answer. Not sure I care to hear your response because it won’t change how elated I feel that he’s no longer on this planet. The rotten fruit always falls to the ground in the end.
Over the next ten minutes, I tackle two more tasks for Big Al, both requiring phone calls. Shudder.
Oddly enough, it’s less worrisome to use the phone at work than it is for personal reasons. Strange, huh? I suppose I’ll ask Simone about that tomorrow if we have time.
We’ve reduced the frequency of our sessions to every other day. If things continue improving, I’ll likely be able to move to only twice weekly or perhaps even weekly appointments soon.
My tummy starts to make itself known, so I lock my PC, forward my phone, and take a break. I guess my little caterpillar is hungry.
I chuckle quietly at the thought. That’s what Tomer keeps calling the baby. Adorable .
Once my caterpillar is fed, I make another stop in the restroom and run into Mia. Meeting at the sink, we wash our hands side by side.
“Hi, Mia.”
“Hey, sugar bear .” Releasing a soft chuckle, she raises her shoulders to her ears. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist. He’s so cute calling you that.”
Glancing in the mirror, it’s evident that not only my cheeks are blushing. My ears and neck also get in on it.
“We can even the score. Cal calls me tiger.” She bares her teeth and hisses in jest, drawing a big laugh out of me.
“Do you call him something?”
Her emerald eyes flicker to the ceiling as she rattles off a hefty list. “Stud. Sexy baby. Pouty, sexy baby. Jealous baby. Sometimes, just sexy or baby, and lately, sir . But I only do that because it gets a reaction out of him that usually works out nicely for me.” She pokes the tip of her tongue out and waggles her brows.
“Tomer doesn’t like it when I call him sir ,” I offer before thinking better of it. My face waxes over, and I squint to hide from her gaze in the mirror.
She cuts off the water and shakes her hands over the sink. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with us, Lettie. We’re all a little kinky here.” She winks.
A shocked gasp fills my lungs as my jaw falls. First Shep and Kri, and now Mia and Klein? I’m too shy to look at her full-on, but I catch sight of her grinning at me with my peripheral vision.
“What do you call him if not sir? Master? Daddy?” She snort-laughs. “Guess that’ll be even more appropriate soon.”
Through a barely restrained laugh, I answer truthfully. “It’s boring. I call him babe . He let me pick, but it’s all that ever felt right.” Doing more of the over-sharing thing, I add, “He once called me lover and then confessed to knowing the Taylor Swift song of the same name. Naturally, I was gone from that point forward.”
“How could you not be?” She reaches for the paper towels, passing me a few. “Honestly, Lettie, I love how happy you make him. From my first day here, I knew he was a good guy. I hoped he’d find the right woman to see him like you do. I’m thrilled for you both. I know it hasn’t been easy, but with love as strong as the two of you have, I suspect you’ll be just fine.”
Other than a tight nod, I’m unable to reply through the emotions clogging my throat.
“I can see I’m embarrassing you. My bad. But one more thing...” She tosses her used paper towel into the trash. “I can’t wait to see him become a daddy. You two are gonna have the cutest babies.”
“ Gah . Stop. You’re trying to make me cry, aren’t you?”
“I’ll stop.” Her neck slopes to the side. “After one last thing. Lettie, don’t ever doubt how one person’s love can change someone for the better. According to everyone here, he’s been thought of as a robot for a long time. I don’t know his past, but I imagine it wasn’t easy. And now? He’s so damn happy. Even with all the shit going on, he smiles and laughs. You’ve brought out something beautiful in him. In case no one else has said it, thank you for loving him . He deserves it.”
Well, damn . She didn’t let up one bit. The cute little ginger doubled down. Now, I need to dry more than my freshly washed hands.
“Sorry.” She hands me another wad of paper towels. “It had to be said.”
After drying my hands and cheeks, I inch toward the exit door with her. “How’s it going down the hall?”
“A bit crazy, but nothing we can’t manage. I said it earlier, but nice job with the doll thing. That was impressive.”
My chest fills with a sticky feeling. Pride , I think. “I’m sure one of you would have figured it out soon enough.”
“We’ve got so much shit happening. Who knows when any of us would have analyzed it the way it needed to be?”
“Taking down the Mafia ain’t easy, huh?” I chuckle. “Did you figure out what was on the slip of paper inside the doll?”
In a whisper, she answers, “It’s an email address written in Greek.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It’s generic, so it doesn’t tell us much about who might be on the other end. We’re still investigating. We added it to the ever-growing list. If shit keeps piling up like this, we’ll need another wall.”
“Did you send an email to it?”
Her lips pull back, revealing her pearly whites slammed together in the physical embodiment of the cringe emoji. “We’re still discussing what to send. Need to do more research first, but I doubt we’ll find much. There’s typically sparse info out there about random email addresses.”
We linger just outside the exit to the restroom. I’m enjoying getting to know Mia in these tiny doses. I see why Tomer likes her.
“Speaking of weird emails,” I start, twisting my fingers together and wondering if I should’ve deleted it when I first saw it.
“Yeah?”
“I got one that’s a little sus. Although I didn’t open it, I did let it sit in my inbox. Is that bad? Should I delete it? Is it too late?”
“It can’t really do anything unless you click on links or attachments. But it’s probably best to delete it if it’s suspicious.” She tips her head in the general direction of my desk. “Wanna show me?”
Like a bobble head doll on a dashboard, I nod like crazy. “Gosh yes. Thank you. It was driving me nuts.”
My little squirrel is gleeful as heck to have a resolution coming to that pesky email that’s been invading my thoughts all damn day. The curiosity and temptation were wrecking my mojo. It would have kept me up tonight. And with Tomer so busy today, I wouldn’t have ever gotten to ask him.
Mia to the rescue. I should get her a little cape.
Once we get to my desk, I take my seat, unlock my system, and show her the email.
Hovering beside me, she taps her mauve fingernail on the screen, pointing to the email entitled: A little something for Redleg’s finest. “This one?”
My blouse feels tight around my chest, so I give it a tug to straighten it. “Yep. The subject is odd. But if you’ll notice, it shows me as the sender. And I didn’t send it to myself.”
“Very strange.” She gestures to my seat. “May I drive?”
I bounce up and move aside. “By all means.”
In a series of rapid clicks and typing at a speed that makes her seem more robot than woman, she logs me off and signs in with an administrator login.
“I’m isolating the email so we can open it without risking the network. It’s like putting it in a steel box.”
Silently, I watch her work in astonishment.
She stops to rub her palms together, resembling a mad scientist, minus the diabolical energy. “Okay, here we go. Let’s open this baby up.”
My heart slams in my chest as soon as my eyes latch on the text inside the email—none of which was visible in the preview line since it doesn’t start until halfway below the top of the page.
This one is for you, Violet Holt. Share it with your boyfriend as a token of my appreciation. Just like a trained dog, he played fetch, doing my dirty work for me. Or perhaps share with the one who has your eyes, my pretty little slut. Maybe both.
Viktor. The bastard.
Below the text are two images.
I cover my mouth to stifle my gasp. The first one is a screenshot of a text message reading: It’s done, Boss . The text also has a picture of a bludgeoned man. Looks like a prison inmate based on the blood-soaked orange jumpsuit.
Must be Yev.
And below that is . . .
Mia minimizes the screen before I have a chance to look too closely. Thank goodness she did. I wouldn’t have been able to look away. Like a car accident, as much as you don’t want to see, you’re powerless to avert your eyes.
Bolting to her feet, she whips around to face me. Her lightly freckled cheeks blanch. “Lettie, I’m sorry you saw that. I shouldn’t have opened it in front of you. I wasn’t thinking. Are you okay?”
I don’t have words, so I stand there, flapping my jaw silently like a freaking fish.
The whooshing sound behind my ears drowns out whatever she’s saying. But a bit makes it through.
With a gentle shake of my upper arms, she urges, “Breathe. Just breathe. Everything’s fine. You’re safe.”
A huge exhale comes out in a rush, making my shoulders collapse. The tightness in my chest and throat cause me to struggle to replace the oxygen I just expelled. My knees buckle, and my vision wobbles.
Where are Simone’s breathing techniques when I need them? I realize I should be doing them, but I have no clue what they are right now.
All I can think of is Viktor.
How he smelt.
The horrible things he said.
The pain.
Somehow, Mia gets me into my seat before I fall.She squats in front of me. “Look at me, Lettie. Focus on me.”
I blink repeatedly, searching for something to cling to. My skewed vision makes me want to throw up. The weight of her palms settles on the tops of my thighs. “Breathe in for four. Breathe out for four.”
Trying to follow her instructions, I struggle to suck in a deep breath, only getting small flutters of air past my teeth. A tremble runs through my hands.
Mia holds up something in front of my face. “Lettie. Focus on this. Look at the pen. Do you see the pen?”
This time, my vision catches on what she’s waving slightly in front of me. “I see it,” I rasp out in a shaky whisper.
“Good. Watch the pen and breathe with me. In for four. Out for four.”
She continues counting in a comforting pattern, and I attempt to breathe as instructed. No clue how long we do this. But I keep my vision trained on that pen like it’s the only thing tethering me to sanity.
My mind keeps tugging me in different directions. Painful ones. Dark ones.
In the space behind the pen, I sense movement. I let it go, focusing on my breathing and the pen.
Vaguely, as off in the distance, her voice comes through slightly muffled. “Tomer, come to Lettie’s desk.” There’s a clicking sound like the telephone receiver slamming on the cradle.
Awareness creeps through my panic, making my heart rate spike again. Shit . She just called him to come here.
“Don’t let him see it,” I shriek out, reaching out for her hands and grabbing them tightly. “Don’t show him. It’ll hurt him too much. Don’t make him watch another one. He’ll run off to kill Viktor.”
“Sometimes bad men deserve to die,” Mia grits out.
“No. Please . Don’t let Viktor take Tomer’s happiness from him. Mia, please.”
Footsteps come thumping down the hall. Tears cloud my vision.
I squeeze her hands tighter, desperately begging. “Please, Mia. Please .”
Right before Tomer comes barging into my workspace, she acquiesces. “Fine. I won’t tell him.”
Tears spring forth, raining relief and terror down my cheeks.
A sob shakes my chest a second before Tomer enters my line of sight and wraps me in his arms.
And I cry.