He rubbed his hand down her back as he continued. “The second time was when Braxton sent me that text that your car blew up and you were on the way to the hospital. I didn’t know how bad it was, didn’t know if you were going to live or die. That same god-awful feeling of real terror was there inside me. I love you, and I don’t want to live without you. I’m better with you. It’s as simple as that . . . and as liberating. Marry me.”
There were tears in her eyes when she answered him. “I have to stay here a full year—”
“We’ll work it out. Marry me.”
“I want children.”
“I do, too . . . with you. Marry me.”
Her smile widened. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
THIRTY-ONE
Peyton wanted to wait until Uncle Len returned to Bishop’s Cove to make the announcement. He had sent a text saying he expected to see them in two weeks. Peyton wasn’t sure she could keep silent that long, but she was determined to try.
The following morning she and Finn walked into a firestorm. Christopher furiously paced around the office, and Lucy was fit to be tied. The only calm person was Debi. She sat at her desk with a notepad and pen, waiting to be given an assignment. Mimi stood in the doorway of her office, arms folded, frowning.
“What happened?” Finn asked.
“The sidewalks,” Lucy said. “Half of them are ruined. One of the workers stomped through the wet concrete wearing boots, and now it’s hardened and will have to be jackhammered. The expense will be huge.”
“Would you like to have a look at the damage?” Christopher asked Finn.
Peyton went with them, hoping it wasn’t as bad as Lucy described, but it turned out to be worse.
“This is awful. Didn’t he look behind him to see what he was doing? It must have been dark,” she reasoned, “and he couldn’t see where he was going.”
“It wasn’t an accident,” Christopher said. “Am I right, Finn? It was deliberate.”
Finn agreed. “The path curves around into a figure eight, and the footprints not only go out one direction, they come back. Yes, it was deliberate.”
“Who would do such a thing?” Peyton wanted to know.
“The question is, who has the most to gain? Only one name comes to mind,” Christopher said. “Scott Cassady. He’s itching to get his hands on this place. Maybe he thinks he’ll wear you down with all these mishaps and you’ll make a deal.”
“You have to set a trap,” Peyton told them.
Both men looked at her, and Finn asked, “What do you have in mind?”
“I don’t know. That’s your area of expertise. I’m a chef. If you catch him, I’ll make you a soufflé.”
“I sure would love to trap Cassady,” Christopher admitted.
As it turned out, it was remarkably easy, thanks to Mimi. That afternoon, Debi complained to her that the printer was broken and then left for lunch. Not trusting her assessment of the problem, Mimi took a look at the printer and noticed the paper had jammed, and when she removed it, she was surprised to see it was part of a confidential financial report on Bishop’s Cove. She hadn’t printed out any new reports and figured that Debi had been prying, so she decided to have a bit of fun. She made an extra file of the financials, then changed all the projected numbers, laughing the whole time she was working. Once Debi was back at her desk, Mimi reported that the printer was repaired and should work just fine. She left the door to her office open a crack so that she would have a view of the printer, and an hour later she watched as Debi worked at her computer, then casually strolled over to pick up some pages as they were printing. Glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching, she stuffed them into her purse, looking as pleased and satisfied as a Cheshire cat.
Mimi waited a minute before printing out another copy of the altered report to take to Christopher, who was meeting with Finn and Peyton in his office. She shut the door and said, “I’d like you to look at this financial summary. You’re on track to make a billion dollars this year.”
She explained what had happened, and when she was finished, Christopher was ready to explode.
“That’s it. She’s gone,” he snapped. “Bring her in with her purse. I want to hear what excuse she’ll give for taking confidential reports—”
“No, wait,” Peyton said. “Let her leave, and Finn and I will follow her. Aren’t you curious to know what she’s doing with the papers? Let’s find out.”
Mimi thought that was a great idea. “All the numbers are bogus. She’s not taking any confidential information out of the office.”
Christopher relented. “All right. I’ll wait until tomorrow to fire her.” He stood. “I’ve got to meet Lucy, and I’m already late.”
Mimi started to leave, but Finn asked her to stay. “I want to talk to you about your ex-husband.”
She stiffened. “What would you like to know?”
“He’s part of Albertson’s circle now, isn’t he?” he asked.
“Yes, he is.”
“Would he lie for him?”
“In a heartbeat. Why?”
He didn’t explain. “One more question. Do you think he would be more afraid of Albertson or going to prison?”
She thought about it a long minute before deciding. “Prison. He could run from Drew, but being locked up would frighten him.”
“That’s all. Thanks, Mimi.”
Peyton waited until her friend had left, then asked, “What was that about?”
“They’re all back in Dalton. Albertson and Parsons were the first home. They were stopped by the police just outside of town, and they let them search their SUV. No weapons. And funny thing, no fish.”
“What about Mimi’s ex, Cosgrove?”
“He drove in about an hour later. He also let the police search his car. They didn’t find anything.”
“No fish? A week-long fishing trip and not a single fish? They’re really bad fishermen, aren’t they?”
“They’re going to use one another for their alibis. The weak link is Cosgrove. I’m gonna want to talk to him.”
“I’m leaving now,” Debi called from the outer office, and she was out the door before anyone could stop her.
Finn looked at his watch.
“She keeps banker’s hours,” Peyton said dryly.
Finn left to get the car, and when he pulled up to the office door, he noticed black clouds rolling in. Rain was coming and the humidity was oppressive. Peyton came out wearing sunglasses that were so dark he was surprised she could find her way to the car. After she put on her seat belt, she scrunched down in her seat.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I don’t want her to spot us.”
He laughed. “You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?”
“Where do you think she’s going? I’m guessing she’ll go home and pore over those papers.” Sitting up straight, she removed her sunglasses. “I don’t see her car. Maybe you should speed up and—”
“I know what I’m doing.”
Debi was well ahead of them, and Peyton was certain they’d lost her until they reached the arched bridge and she spotted the blue sedan about eight cars ahead of them. Debi drove past the exit to her building and continued on. Near the post office she made a turn into a parking lot behind an office building and stopped in front of a Dumpster. Finn pulled over so they could observe her from across the street.
Peyton watched as Debi got out and opened the trunk. “What is she doing?”
Debi lifted a green plastic trash bag and, struggling with the weight, held it at arm’s length as she hurried to the Dumpster and dropped it in.
“What is she throwing away?” Peyton asked. “From the way she was holding the bag, I’m guessing it’s garbage.”
“Only one way to find out,” Finn told her.
They waited until Debi had gone into the building before getting out of their car. They cut across the pavement, zigzagged around some dried-up shrubs, and came up behind the Dumpster from the opposite side. The lid was open and the bag was on top of the trash. Finn lifted it out and dropped it on the ground next to him. Debi had sealed it closed with a twist tie, but it didn’t hold. The top opened when the bag hit the ground, and the plastic spread wide revealing a pair of brown boots covered in cement.
Peyton opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. She was so shocked, she didn’t know what to think. Why would Debi do such a thing? What did she have to gain? And with Debi it was always about what she could get. She never thought about anyone else.
“Your cousin committed a felony, and here’s the proof, should Christopher want to take this any further.” He picked up the bag and took it to their car.
“Okay,” he said when he returned. “Now that the evidence is secured, let’s go find out who Debi is taking those papers to. You’ve got a pretty good guess by now, don’t you?”
She nodded. “Cassady. She’s working with Cassady. He must be paying her.” She shook with anger. How could Debi do this? They had given her every chance, and she’d done nothing but betray them. “Shall we go say hello?” she suggested, her voice tight.
Cassady Construction was located on the top floor. They stepped out of the elevator into a palatial reception area. It was all shiny marble and granite. A pretty, young woman behind the counter was eager to help them.
“How may I assist you?”
“We have an appointment with Scott Cassady,” Peyton lied. “He’s going to build a business complex for us.”
Peyton thought the woman was frowning, but with all the Botox in her face it was impossible to tell.
“He’s with a client,” she began hesitantly. “I don’t see an appointment. If you’ll give me your name, I’ll just check with him.”
“The client he’s with is part of our team,” Peyton explained smoothly. “We’ll just go on in.”
The receptionist wasn’t sure what to do. She started to nod, then changed her mind. “I’ll be happy to announce you.”
“No need,” Peyton said as she strode past the counter. Finn opened the door to Cassady’s office for her. “He’ll be thrilled to see us.”
“You’re a little too good at this,” he whispered.
She smiled. “Thank you.”
She took it in all at once. Cassady was sitting at his desk, and Debi faced him. Her back was to the door, and she was handing him the papers she’d printed.
“It wasn’t easy getting these,” she boasted. “I expect a little more than we agreed on for all my trouble. The Cove will be out of business in three more months tops.”
Cassady looked up and saw Finn and Peyton. He jumped to his feet and tried to stash the papers under a folder.
Debi turned and gasped. “What are you doing here?”
Peyton ignored her. “Have you looked over that confidential financial information for Bishop’s Cove?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cassady blustered.
“The papers Debi just handed you.”
“I didn’t hand him anything,” she protested. “You do have an imagination.”
“When you get to page six, you’ll note that in one month the Cove took in a billion dollars. Or was it three billion?” she asked Finn. “Mimi had such fun making up all those numbers.”
Cassady shook his head. “This is all a misunderstanding. Debi is acting as a liaison between me and . . .”
He stopped when Finn pulled his phone out and said, “As much as I’d like to listen to your explanation, I think I’ll just call the police. They’ll want to hear what you have to say before they arrest both of you.”
“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Cassady protested.
“Why don’t we start with vandalism,” Finn said.
“That isn’t such a big deal,” Debi told him. Her arms were folded just above her waist, which pushed her br**sts out another inch or two.
“Thousands of dollars in damage is a felony. You’re going to be spending some time in prison,” Peyton said, wanting to scare Debi. It didn’t seem to work.
“That’s ridiculous. I haven’t done anything wrong. I honestly don’t know what you’re going on and on about. I was merely trying to smooth relations between Bishop’s Cove and Cassady Development because I personally feel that Scott Cassady is a much better builder than that redneck Miller. He dresses like a common laborer.”
“You’re right, Finn,” Peyton said. “We should let the Port James police handle this. Give them the evidence, and let them arrest these two.”
“What evidence?” Cassady asked. And on the heels of that question, he reached for his phone. “I’m calling my attorney.”
“Good idea,” Finn said. He looked at Debi. “We got the boots out of the Dumpster.”
“What boots?” she asked innocently, fluttering her eyelids.
“Give it up,” Peyton snapped.
“You can’t prove those boots are mine.”
“Yes, we can. We’ll run your fingerprints.”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about. I don’t know anything about any boots,” Cassady said.
“They’re talking gibberish,” Debi said. “Peyton’s just trying to make trouble. She’s always been jealous of me.”
“Why don’t we sit down and have a drink and talk about this,” Cassady suggested, his voice smooth as molasses now. “This kind of misunderstanding can ruin a business. I merely wanted to have a look at the projections so that I could make an informed bid. That’s all. And this pretty lady was helping me.”
Debi was a pretty lady? Cassady needed to wear glasses, Peyton thought.
“Let’s not call the police just yet, Finn. We’ll let Christopher handle this,” she said. Finn nodded and was opening the door for them to leave when she suddenly stopped. “Wait, I forgot something.” She turned to Debi, who was glaring at her, and said, “Has anyone ever told you what a horrible person you are? And toxic? As far as I’m concerned we are no longer related. I never want to see you or hear from you again. Oh, and you’re fired.”
“I’m calling my father,” she shouted.