A Girl Betrayed (A Leah Mason suspense thriller Book 2) Page 7

  Sam studied his laptop. “Not yet.”

  She laughed. “Ever the optimist.” She slammed a hand on the table. “Then it’s decided. Let’s get our respected colleagues in Mountain View involved and notify them we’re planning on hauling him in sometime in the next week or so. Nothing’s so urgent we need to go in with guns blazing. Obviously, stress the importance of keeping a lid on it.”

  The meeting continued as the group worked through their other pending cases – a fraudster who was bilking seniors out of their retirement nest eggs, an attorney who was playing fast and loose with insurance claims, a physician who was engaged in an elaborate Medicare fraud scheme. When consensus on the following week’s action items had been reached, the room cleared, leaving Sam staring at his screen with a troubled expression, his fingers tapping out a memo that would alert all the relevant parties of their case progress.

  Chapter 11

  Atherton, California

  After spending Monday morning playing catch-up in the office, Leah drove south and then over the San Mateo Bridge to meet up with Heather at a café on the El Camino Real in Palo Alto. From there they took Heather’s car to her house in the hills, the genteel area becoming increasingly rarified as they headed west. Leah had been expecting an estate, but even so was surprised by the size of the house, nearly the size of the B&B they’d stayed at all weekend.

  “Wow. That’s…quite a place,” Leah said when they pulled into the drive. She eyed the two stories of faux Tuscan opulence. “And it’s just you and Richard?”

  “Yeah. He kind of went overkill on it. But we bought it when the market was in the toilet, so it’s increased by eighty percent in the last four years – which was his point when we got it in the first place.” Heather smiled sadly. “Just me, Richard, and Brutus.”

  “Brutus?”

  “Our dog. We adopted him from the shelter as a pup. He’s a Rottweiler mix of some kind. A big clumsy bear, but I love him like nobody’s business.”

  “Sounds sweet.”

  “You’ll get to meet him in a second. Just make sure he doesn’t kiss you to death. His manners aren’t the best.”

  “I can handle that.”

  The whine of a weed whacker filled the air when they stepped from the car and walked up the cobblestone driveway toward the house, Heather toting her purse and an empty briefcase she’d brought to carry any records they found. At the front door, Heather unlocked the bolt and swung the arched slab aside, revealing a two-story marble entryway with a chandelier over the foyer.

  “This is gorgeous, Heather,” Leah said.

  “Like I said. Overkill.”

  “How many bedrooms?”

  “Six, plus an office, library, and wine cellar.” She dropped her keys into a ceramic bowl on a long side table in the foyer. “Shut the door behind you or the bugs will get in.”

  Leah obliged, and Heather felt in her pocket. She extracted a small silver key and smirked. “Richard locks his office, but I have a key.”

  “Why lock it if it’s only the two of you?”

  “I asked him the same thing. He said it’s just habit. Plus it’s his ‘man cave,’ as he calls it. He read some book about one area of the house being off-limits to your wife. The rest, no problem.”

  “That doesn’t sound very…constructive.”

  Heather shrugged. “That’s the least of my problems. Follow me. The office is on the other side of the living room.”

  They ventured deeper into the house, past French doors that opened onto a large backyard. A man trimming a hedge was the source of the weed whacker din, and Heather frowned as they walked past the doors. The man gave her a half wave, which she ignored, and they continued to a polished cherrywood door with ornate panels and an antique knob and lock. Heather glanced around as though afraid Richard would appear at any moment, and was reaching for the lock when the sound of nails scratching at stone sounded from behind them. Leah and Heather turned as a small mountain of fur raced toward them, paws scrambling on the marble.

  “Brutus! There you are!” Heather said, and the big dog beelined for her, tongue lolling out of a head the size of a bear. He collided with Heather, but she’d braced herself, obviously used to the dog’s habit of greeting her with a head butt to the thighs, and she patted his flank as his nub of a tail wiggled like an earthworm on a hot sidewalk. “Who’s a good boy? You been guarding the house?” she cooed.

  Done with his mistress, Brutus turned to Leah, and before she could react, he had jumped up and placed paws the size of boxing gloves on her shoulders and was slurping at her face with a rough tongue, eyes delighted. Leah turned away, but Brutus wasn’t taking no for an answer, and rewarded her by lapping at her neck.

  Heather pulled him off and pointed at the floor. “Brutus! No! Bad dog. Bad, bad dog,” she said, her voice stern. Brutus lay down and eyed her submissively, his expression as sad as anything Leah had ever seen.

  “It’s okay. You warned me,” Leah said, wiping her face with the back of her sleeve.

  “I’ve done everything. We had a trainer. The whole works. But he just loses his mind when he sees anyone new in the house.”

  “He’s a good-looking brute, isn’t he?” Leah said. “And he seems suitably chastened.”

  Heather shook her head. “Which he’ll forget in thirty seconds.”

  “But he means it right now. That’s the important thing.”

  Heather waved over at the French doors. “That’s Ramon, the caretaker. There’s no love lost between us, but Richard keeps him around anyway. Brutus hates him. He’s got good instincts.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. There’s just something about him. He’s a sneaky creep. I always feel like he’s undressing me with his eyes when he sees me. You know the type.”

  “That’s about every guy I meet.”

  Heather chuckled. “Lucky you.”

  She returned to the lock, and this time slipped the key in and opened it with a soft click. Brutus whined from his position on the floor but didn’t move until they had both entered the office, when he darted in behind Leah so fast he almost knocked her off her feet. Heather sighed at the sight of an oversized antique desk with files scattered around the tabletop, and then moved to a laptop computer sitting on the credenza behind it.

  “This is where he keeps all the records,” she said. “But he’s a nut about hard copy, too. As you can see from the clutter. I’d clean it up, but…”

  Leah looked around. “Where do we start?”

  “I bought a couple of thumb drives to download everything. But I’m not sure he’s put everything on the computer. He’s paranoid about data.”

  Heather set the computer on the desk and switched the power on. A minute later, a screen asked her for a password. She smiled at Leah.

  “For such a sneaky guy, he’s kind of simple about his password. Brutus plus his mother’s maiden name.” Heather tapped the keys and hit enter. The screen displayed a yellow error message. “Damn,” she said, and typed more slowly, taking care to get each letter right. The same message told her it was an invalid password.

  “That’s not good,” Leah said.

  “He must have changed it.”

  “When was the last time you accessed it?”

  “Maybe…six days ago.”

  “Did you do anything that could have tipped him off?”

  “I…I don’t think so. He probably just changed it because it reminded him to, or something.”

  “But that has most of the data you were trying to get?”

  Heather frowned and nodded. “Yes.” She thought for a moment. “Do you have someone who could unlock it?”

  Adam popped into Leah’s mind. “Maybe. I mean, recovery people manage it all the time, right? And the police…”

  “Then we’ll take the computer. Unlock it, save the contents, and I’ll replace it before he ever notices.”

  “You don’t think he’ll notice his computer missing?”

  “He’
s gone until Wednesday. If you can get it back to me in a couple of days, it should be fine.”

  Leah eyed her skeptically. “Are you sure?”

  “What choice do we have?”

  “But what if he finds out?”

  “He won’t. Besides, the bastard’s cleaning out all the accounts. What’s the worst that can happen? He does exactly what he’s doing?” She snorted. “I’ll risk it.”

  Heather opened one of the desk file drawers, rummaged through the contents, and extracted three brimming folders and placed them next to the briefcase. She went through the rest of the drawers, clearly sure of what she was looking for, and removed two more files before stepping away, hands on her hips. “That should do it. Those are account statements for the ones I know about.”

  “Maybe we should photograph them rather than take them?”

  “It’s faster to photocopy them at your office and return them with the computer, don’t you think?”

  Brutus grunted by Heather’s side and stared up at her with adoration. She petted him absently while thinking, and then popped open the briefcase and loaded the files inside. She finished by placing the notebook on top of the pile and struggled to close it. Brutus whined again at the sound of the latches closing and leapt to his feet, his bottom wiggling like crazy.

  “Crap,” Heather said. “We need to take him out for a minute. I can’t let him outside with Ramon there. He’ll go crazy and bark at him until I drag him away.” Heather looked to Brutus. “You want to go for a walk?”

  Brutus launched into the air and did a half turn before his paws hit the floor, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

  “Come on, then. Just a quick one,” Heather said, and led the big dog and Leah out of the office to the kitchen, where a leash and a roll of plastic bags sat on one of the shelves. Brutus barked once, the sound like a gun going off in the confined space, and Heather clipped the leash on and looked at Leah. “About the only thing that stuck from the training is he’s great on a leash. Otherwise he’d dislocate my shoulder whenever I took him out.”

  “He’s obviously more your dog than Richard’s.”

  “Richard’s hardly ever around, and when he is, he’s too busy for anyone but Richard,” she said, her tone bitter.

  Leah didn’t see any point in commenting, so remained silent as she followed Heather and Brutus to the front door. Amazingly, the big brute was as gentle as a lamb when being led, and obeyed every command from Heather instantly as they made their way around the block. Back in the house, Brutus went running for his water bowl while Heather crept back to the office and retrieved the briefcase, and then they were walking back down the long drive to the Lexus, Heather’s expression determined.

  Once they were on the road, Heather turned to Leah. “Thanks for doing this with me. I’m not sure I could have on my own. I’m…I’m not good at the courage thing.”

  “You seemed fine with it to me. All I did was watch.”

  “Brutus loved you. He’s a good judge of character,” Heather said.

  “I have a feeling Brutus loves just about everyone. He’s a charmer.”

  “That he is,” Heather agreed. “You want to call your tech guy and let him know you’re coming?”

  “I think that discussion is best to have in person. This isn’t exactly routine. Journalists aren’t expected to pilfer files and steal laptops.”

  “You didn’t steal anything. I gave it to you.”

  “An important technicality, I’ll admit.” Leah paused. “I hope you’re right about Richard.”

  “He’s gone tonight and tomorrow. Supposedly on another business trip, but I’d bet money it’s to be with his whore,” Heather spat, venom in every syllable.

  “Do you know her?” Leah asked.

  “No. She’s a business consultant. Lives in San Francisco. For all I know, he fed her some line about being estranged from his wife, planning on divorcing… I’m sure you know all the clichés as well as I do.”

  Leah watched the neighborhood transition back to more modest surroundings as they neared the café, and exhaled in relief when Heather pulled to a stop behind her CR-V. They sat in silence for a tense moment, neither sure what to say, and then Heather looked into the backseat at where the briefcase lay.

  “Again, thanks for going the distance for me, Leah. I know this is eating into your time, and I’m asking a lot.”

  “Just remember I told you to hire a PI instead of depending on me. I probably won’t be much help.”

  Heather slid from behind the wheel and walked around the car. She opened the back door, removed the attaché, and handed it to Leah. “Do what you can. It’s better than nothing. And you’re all I’ve got.”

  Leah frowned at her last words, and then Heather’s arms were around her in a tentative embrace. Leah stood awkwardly, briefcase by her side, until Heather released her and stepped back. “Good luck.”

  “I’ll call when we’ve copied everything.”

  “I can drive to Emeryville if you want. No reason to kill your day bringing it back to me.”

  “I may take you up on that.”

  “Just call and I’ll meet you wherever.”

  Heather returned to the driver’s seat and Leah watched as the Lexus pulled away. She wondered what it must feel like to live with a man you couldn’t trust, who was sleeping with someone else, who locked you out of his office on some misguided principle. At first, seeing Heather again, Leah’s sense of insecurity, her inferiority complex, had made her compare herself to Heather, who spent money like water and had every creature comfort she could imagine…and she had felt lacking. But now, knowing the entire story, Leah felt far better about her situation and the choices she’d made. Maybe she lived a more modest life, but at least she wasn’t in a prison of her own contrivance, waiting for the axe to drop on a marriage that was a sham, gritting her teeth whenever her husband was near and worrying about what underhanded scam he was pulling to cheat her out of everything.

  She set the briefcase in the back of the SUV and started the engine, checked her messages on her phone, and then reversed out of the lot, her thoughts a jumble. Heather had so much misplaced faith in her it made her uncomfortable in the extreme, and Leah was fearful that she’d disappoint her sooner than later.

  At least she’d try, she thought. Which made her wonder how cooperative Heather would have been if the shoe had been on the other foot, and it had been Leah’s life coming apart and Leah reaching out to her, begging for a lifeline. She’d like to think Heather would have helped, but she couldn’t be sure. Part of what had landed her in the situation she was in was that she was self-centered and viewed the universe through a lens of what was best for Heather. Leah supposed everyone did that to some degree, but Heather had always been at the far end of the spectrum. If Leah hadn’t been as compassionate, she would have politely declined to help.

  “Too late now,” she whispered to herself. “Suckered again by a sob story.”

  The horizon shimmered with smog that hung like a beige shroud over the cobalt bay in the distance as Leah pulled onto the freeway, her mind on how to convince Adam to help her crack the notebook without having to level with him about what she was actually doing. A pang of guilt stabbed at her for using company resources on a private matter, but she brushed them aside – she put in more hours than anyone else, and if she wanted to spend a few on helping a friend in need, it wasn’t the end of the world.

  Still, she felt dishonest the entire drive back to Emeryville and spent the last half hour cursing her decision to help Heather rather than focusing on finding a story that would justify her exorbitant salary.

  Chapter 12

  Leah hurried into the office, smiling at Monique, the receptionist. “Anything happen while I was out?” Leah asked.

  Monique shook her head. “Nope.”

  “Is Adam here?”

  “He’s at an off-site meeting. He should be back shortly, though.”

  “Great. Can you ask him to come bac
k and see me when he returns?”

  “Sure thing.”

  Leah toted the briefcase and her purse to her cubicle and set them on her desk, and then made for the coffee area, her body needing another jolt of caffeine after the mind-numbing commute from the peninsula. The pot was all but empty, of course, and she paced in front of the machine as she waited for it to brew. The beginnings of a headache pulsed in her forehead. After a small eternity the pot was full, and she poured herself a steaming mug and carried it back to her desk, the office quiet except for the tapping of keys.

  She powered her computer to life and began with an internet search on Richard. A dozen results popped onto the screen, and she read the first, which was the venture capital firm’s website. Richard’s bio was suitably impressive, and his photo captured his charisma and good looks. Leah knew he was eight years older than Heather. According to his CV, after graduating from Stanford, he’d gotten his start as an associate at one of the high-profile venture firms in the valley and had eventually become a junior partner responsible for a number of successful investments. After five years there, he’d moved to a smaller firm as a general partner, where he’d remained for six years before starting his own boutique fund, Palladium Venture Group, which had raised five hundred million dollars two and a half years ago.

  The junior partners were also listed, as well as two associates and a CFO. The entire operation consisted of six people, with Richard at the top of the pyramid and the rest likely on salary. None of the portfolio companies were listed, which Leah wasn’t sure was odd or not. She supposed that if they were early stage, or if there was some element of secrecy to the investment, it would be prudent to keep those cards close to the chest. She didn’t know much about the venture capital arena other than what she’d read researching other stories, so had nothing to serve as her baseline. The website was generic, only ten or so pages, including the bios and the mission statement, and she quickly moved to the next link in her search results, which was an article about the opening of the company’s offices on Sand Hill Road, with a photograph of a smiling Richard and his staff standing in front of the building entrance.