Chapter 3
Three
Present Day
Mo looked up from his computer and glared at the door to his home. “Go away!”
Cal knocked again.
“I said go away.”
“You’re going to change your tune when I tell you why I’m here.” Cal’s voice held a challenge.
“Don’t hold your breath.”
“Are you going to let me in?”
“Let yourself in.” Mo went back to work.
The beeping on the keypad told him that Cal messed up the first time he entered the door code but got it on the second.
Mo didn’t look up from his screen as Cal entered. “You’d better have a good reason for showing up at five thirty on a Monday morning.”
“Why do you care what time it is?” Cal closed the door behind him, then leaned against it.
Mo’s tiny house didn’t leave much room for guests. Just the way he liked it.
“It’s indecent to show up—unannounced, I might add—before eight a.m. on any day of the week. It’s obscene on a Monday.”
“Says who?” Cal asked.
“Says everybody.”
Cal grunted but didn’t say anything else.
Mo ignored him and continued to type the report he’d been working on since four. When he finished his thoughts, he hit save and swiveled to face his cousin. “Why are you here?”
“I got an email from Bronwyn this morning.”
A pall of tension settled into the small space. Mo fought to keep his voice flat. “Okay.”
“Seems she’s in need of assistance.”
“And that has what to do with me?”
“Everything.”
“Explain.”
Cal pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it to Mo. “Read it for yourself.”
Mo took the phone. The email had been sent from an account that probably would have been caught in a spam filter, except he could tell that Cal had received messages from it before. “What email is this?”
“She uses it when she wants to be sure no one is reading over her shoulder.”
Metaphorically or literally? Probably both.
She’d sent the email at 3:15 a.m.
Cal had opened it around five.
Mo looked up. “Why were you awake so early?”
“Landry woke up. The baby is making it hard for her to sleep.”
“I hear they do even more of that after they’re born. I bet I’ll be able to hear her crying from here.” Mo’s tiny house was only a few hundred yards from the home Cal and Landry shared.
“Quit stalling and read the email.”
He took a deep breath although he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like sitting on his rear end and reading an email was physically taxing.
But for some reason, he had to take another deep breath before he focused on the screen.
Cal,
Things aren’t good, and I need help. The kind of help that, oh, say, a super trustworthy forensic accountant could provide. If he should be available . . . and willing.
Could you determine the availability and willingness of someone like that?
I’m sorry to put you in the middle again, and I’m sorry to ask for his help, but I genuinely don’t know where else to go. If he could give me just a little bit of time and tell me if I’m seeing things, or if it’s a real issue, then I’d be happy to hire someone he recommends to finish the job.
I’m planning to swing by your office around 9:00 a.m.
Beep
Mo read it again. Then a third time. Then he forwarded it to his personal email and handed the phone to Cal.
Cal slid the phone into his back pocket. “So, I guess I’ll see you at nine, then.”
Mo didn’t respond immediately. Would he go?
Bronwyn had frozen him out years earlier, and he deserved it. He’d been ready to leave the past behind them and move on for a while. Clearly she wasn’t.
But she’d come to him.
Sort of.
“I’ll think about it.”
Cal opened the door and walked outside. “You’re both being idiots.”
“What’s new?” Mo asked the empty space.
Cal stuck his head back in. “For starters? She asked for your help. That’s new.”
At 8:55 a.m. Mo walked into Cal’s office at SPQ Construction. “Morning, Carla.”
Carla Shaw was technically his cousin-in-law, but she was practically the big sister he’d never had and was one of his favorite people.
Carla came around the reception desk. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
He opened his arms, and she walked into them.
“I’ve been needing a Mo hug.” She squeezed him close before she stepped back. She tilted her head toward the back of the office. “She’s already here.”
He’d seen Bronwyn’s car in the parking lot, but he appreciated the warning. “Thanks.”
Carla rose on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Mo’s cheek. “I have faith that you two will sort yourselves out.”
“From your lips to God’s ears.” The phrase was a common one, but Mo meant every word. He’d been praying all morning, but he would take all the help he could get. So far, all he was sure God was telling him was to show up today. After that? God hadn’t seen fit to enlighten him.
Carla patted his arm, and he walked to Cal’s office.
The door was open. Cal stood at the window.
Bronwyn sat at the table Cal used when he needed to go over architectural drawings with clients.
Her long dark hair fell halfway down her back in waves of almost black with a hint of red that he knew wasn’t natural.
The cut was slightly different from the last time he’d seen her, but he liked the new look. It highlighted her sharp cheekbones.
Her dark brown eyes were in sharp contrast to his sister Meredith’s bright blue. Meredith sat beside Bronwyn and looked up when Mo entered. “’Bout time you got here.”
He glanced at his watch. “I’m early.”
“On time is late for you.”
Mo ignored that remark. “What are you doing here?”
Meredith shrugged. “Cal called me.”
Bronwyn turned a ferocious glare on Cal. “I’m not sure why.”
Cal gave her a beatific smile. “Because we’re a team. You’re in trouble. We’re going to help you. End of discussion.”
Bronwyn fumed. “Mer’s soon-to-be husband is the police chief. Did it not occur to you that perhaps I didn’t loop her in for a reason?”
“Beep, we love you. Stop complaining. We’re here.” Cal took a seat across from her. “What’s going on?”
Mo took that as his cue to join them at the table. He slid into the remaining chair and studied the intricate woodburned surface. And then he waited.
Bronwyn hadn’t said a word directly to him in years, but they’d gotten pretty good at sharing the same space and participating in the same conversations. Maybe one day she’d mess up and speak to him.
Although he had a feeling that today was not that day.
Bronwyn stared at the top of the table. In her periphery, she could see Mo’s hands. His long fingers were clasped together, and every few seconds he tapped his thumbs against each other. He’d done that a lot when they were younger. It was his “ready for anything” posture.
Meredith bumped her elbow. “Bronwyn?”
How long had she been studying Mo’s hands? Her face heated, and she pinched her lips together. “Sorry. I’m not sure where to start.”
Cal leaned back in his seat. “Why don’t you start with what made you send that email? What triggered that?”
Bronwyn slumped forward until her forehead rested on the table. “I don’t know if I can do this.” These three people were—or had been at one time, when including Mo—her best friends. They’d been with her through everything. Everything she’d allowed them to, anyway.
Why was this so hard?
“What if we discuss what we already know?” Mo’s voice was low and gravelly. “For example, we know that Steven’s arrest for drug trafficking—”
“Don’t forget murder,” Meredith cut in. “Oh, and kidnapping.”
Bronwyn lifted her head in time to catch Mo giving his sister a look she’d seen hundreds of times. It was the “you’re lucky that I love you so much because I also find you exceptionally annoying” look.
“Yes, Bronwyn’s cousin’s illegal and immoral actions have brought The Haven under unwanted scrutiny. What else do we know?”
Meredith chimed in again. “Some of Beep’s uncles and cousins want to make The Haven a more prominent resort, possibly removing some of the safeguards that have kept it in the ‘secret gem’ category for so long.”
“And those actions would undoubtedly have a negative impact on the residents of Gossamer Falls.” Cal drummed his fingers on the table.
“The whole Pierce/Quinn feud began over fears of this happening, but Bronwyn has always maintained that growing The Haven that way would be a disaster for both The Haven and the community.”
How far would they make it before she had to explain anything?
Mo’s low voice filled the space. “My question would be what has changed recently that caused Bronwyn to reach out? What has she seen in the files that makes her think she needs a forensic accountant? And let’s not forget that she sent that email in the middle of the night, which would lead one to wonder if something specific happened yesterday or early this morning.
That’s the real reason we’re all sitting around this table and might explain why she has goosebumps on her arms even though it’s not cold in this room. ”
Bronwyn looked at her traitorous appendages. Sure enough, the chill she thought was metaphorical had popped out on her skin.
Meredith leaned against her arm. “Spill. We won’t judge.”
“I’m . . .” Bronwyn closed her eyes and fought against the moisture building there.
“I’ve had concerns for a while, but last night, I wondered if my own security team would turn on me.
The fear . . .” Her mouth went dry at the remembered panic.
“I found some things that don’t make sense to me in several of our accounts.
I’m no slouch when it comes to accounting, but I can’t find what’s wrong, but something is.
I know our business, inside and out. I have an innate sense of how much things cost, where the money goes, et cetera.
And something isn’t right, but for the life of me, I can’t find it.
Or why it’s happening. What’s the end goal?
Is someone embezzling funds? That would be bad enough, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world.
We can find out what’s going on, put a stop to it, and move on.
But this doesn’t look like embezzlement to me. I just can’t figure out what it is.”