Chapter 4 Marshall #2
What could he tell her? Just because she worked at Summit didn’t mean she was involved. Finally, he said, “I’m interested in NorthBridge Energy.”
Her breath caught—barely—but enough. She looked away too fast, focusing on the file in her hands. Then she shook her head, a precise half-centimeter left-right. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”
Marshall’s voice was almost a groan. “Tell me it wasn’t you.”
Her head snapped up at that, eyes narrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know exactly what it means.” His voice was low, controlled, the kind of control that cost him. “I work for an off-books government security contractor. We got a call from a contact at the SEC. They figured we should know that someone was asking too many questions.”
Her shoulders stiffened. “It wasn’t me.”
He allowed himself a dry smile. “You were always a terrible liar.”
Something flared in her eyes—anger, old and honest. “You forfeited the right to say always.”
Fair. He let it land. He’d come for a reason, and nostalgia wasn’t it.
Marshall exhaled hard through his nose, dragging a hand across his jaw. He hated that he wasn’t surprised. “Norah—”
“Don’t.” She cut him off, sharper than she meant. The file on her desk trembled under her palm. “Don’t say my name like that. And don’t look at me like I’m reckless just because I won’t turn a blind eye.”
“You think this is about being reckless?” His eyes pinned her, steady as stone. “It’s not just a boardroom squabble you’re poking at.”
She leaned forward now, anger edging her words. “You walk into my office under a fake name, sit across from me like a stranger, and then—what? Lecture me? You don’t get to do that, Marshall.”
He let the name hang in the air between them, sharp and heavy. “I’m telling you to leave it alone.”
“And I’m telling you I won’t.” She pushed the file aside and planted both hands on the desk. “If there’s fraud in NorthBridge, I’m not turning away. People get hurt when lies like that hold.”
His eyes darkened, jaw tight. “You don’t know the kind of people you’re dealing with.”
Her voice dropped, steady as a blade. “Then tell me.”
He didn’t. Couldn’t. The less she knew, the safer she was. “Walk away, Norah.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.” His tone snapped sharper than he intended, echoing the old arguments they’d had—her digging in, him trying to protect her by shutting her out. “You just won’t.”
Her breath faltered, but only for a second. “If there’s fraud, it matters. I’m not going to walk away just because it’s messy.”
He leaned in across the desk, close enough that memory tried to claw its way into the moment. “You always had to dig. Always had to prove you were right, no matter the cost.”
“And you always thought you could decide which costs I could bear.” Her chin lifted, unflinching. “That’s not your call anymore.”
Something twisted in him—familiar, painful. “If you keep at this, you’re going to get yourself killed.”
“Then maybe you should stop trying to control me and start telling me why you care.” Her eyes searched his, desperate for an answer he refused to give.
For a long beat, neither spoke. The air between them hummed, heavy with what they weren’t saying—fifteen years of silence, regret, and the kind of wound you couldn’t cauterize no matter how hard you tried.
He stood, straightened his jacket, tamping down the words pressing too close. “Because if you keep going, you’ll regret it.”
Her laugh was short, humorless. “That’s not an answer. That’s a threat.”
“It’s a warning.” His gaze locked on hers. “One I shouldn’t even be giving.” Marshall softened, showing his hand. Emotion was something he normally locked away, but he let her see it this time. “Please stay out of it, Norah.”
Her chin lifted a fraction. “My job is due diligence. I found an inconsistency. I follow it.”
“This is not an inconsistency!” he urged, shaking his head in disbelief. She was so darn stubborn. “It’s a freaking fuse ready to ignite.”
“And you’ve decided you’re the one who gets to cut it.”
“I’ve decided you’re not going to be standing next to it when it blows.” Not on his watch. She might not be his anymore, but he would still make sure she was safe.
Her eyes didn’t soften, but her voice did. “You don’t get to decide for me.”
The silence stretched, heavy, until voices sounded outside the office. Norah’s mask snapped back into place just before the door opened.
“Mr. Kincaid,” she said brightly, her tone smooth enough to fool anyone but him. “Thanks for stopping by. I’ll have our team follow up.”
Marshall shook her hand as though they were nothing but acquaintances and let himself be walked to the elevators, abandoning his hope to get to the server room today.
He dropped Simmons badge in the corner of the elevator before exiting on the ground floor and walking outside.
He stepped out into the wind, loosened his tie, and pulled his phone from his pocket.
Marshall’s thumb hovered on the call list before he hit Joey’s name.
“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Kincaid. Miranda said you looked quite dashing in your tie,” Joey said as she answered.
Marshall rolled his eyes. “Don’t you two have better things to do than gossip about the men of Black Tower?”
“Don’t deny us our fun. There has to be some benefit to being surrounded by all this testosterone. We used the security camera to watch Jackson do the salmon ladder in the gym yesterday.”
Marshall barked a laugh. “If Jackson knew you were watching, he’d probably sell tickets.”
“You and I both know he would comp Miranda’s. He’d do anything for that girl. Are they ever going to date?”
He grunted. “Jackson claims they are just friends.”
Joey sighed. “Miranda says the same thing. Whatever. Tell me what you got today.”
Marshall shifted gears easily. “Server room is badge and passcode protected. I couldn’t get in. Not sure who has access, but it wasn’t the mid-level fund manager I met with.”
Joey grunted. “Figures. Okay, we’ll figure something out. What about who has been making waves? Any idea what they’re looking into?”
“It’s definitely about NorthBridge,” Marshall said. “I actually found the source, and they are zeroed in on them. Sounds like they’ve got suspicions of fraud.”
He was desperately trying to hold back his personal connection. But he couldn’t stop himself from giving the next order. “We need to shield them.”
Joey snorted. “Meaning what exactly?”
“Meaning if she won’t back off,” he said, “we move the whole board until she’s not on the square. Hide her digital footsteps before anyone at Summit asks who talked to the SEC.”
Silence. Then Joey hummed softly. “So it was Norah.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” Joey’s voice sobered. “I’ll handle it. You okay?”
He looked back up at the glass tower and the floor where a woman he used to know was about to do something foolish because it was the only way she knew how to be honest. The answer was obvious and unhelpful.
“Yeah,” he lied. “Keep me posted.”
He ended the call and headed for the car, jaw tight, mind already pulling threads and tying knots. He had to control the variables.
And if control failed, there were other ways to win.