“Great, I’ll see you there.”
Davis hung up, glanced at his phone to see if he had any other messages. None, not a peep from Leila. Then, he grabbed his leather jacket and headed for his car. Right now, the rest of the TCD team was prepping for their own big arrest. They knew he was feeling close to finding answers at Petrov Armor. He’d contacted them after he checked out the initial lead from Leila’s uncle, giving them the name of his suspect. But if this revealed what he thought it was going to, there’d be no delay in getting the warrants.
He’d be ready to make an arrest tonight.
Chapter Eighteen
“No way, what?” Eric repeated, striding into her office as if it was his.
Leila’s fingers felt clumsy as she moved the mouse to exit the supply order information she’d been reviewing, the logs that listed Eric’s name next to orders connected to the faulty armor. Her heart pounded way too fast as she finally got it closed, just before Eric rounded her desk to stare at her now-blank screen.
Eric’s suspicious gaze traveled from the computer to her face, assessing with seventeen years of experience reading her. She scrambled to come up with an answer he’d believe, even as her mind struggled to accept that Eric could have been the person betraying the company for so many years. That he could have killed her father, and tried to have her killed.
She stood abruptly, her thighs bumping the chair awkwardly and sending it sliding backward into the wall. Her legs tensed, ready to run, and her hands fisted with the desire to take a swing at him so strong she was actually shaking. Eric had killed her father.
Seventeen years of memories flashed before her eyes as Eric put his hand on her arm, leaning close with wide, innocent eyes.
“Are you okay?”
Images of Eric at fifteen years old, lanky and shy, asking to sit next to her and not taking no for an answer. A few months later, meeting her father and seeming to bond with him almost immediately, their connection as strong as his feelings for her, just different. Supposedly, the father he’d never had. And all the years since, in the office, laughing with her father, celebrating new deals with him, breaking down and weeping at his funeral.
Were all those memories lies?
Had everything he’d done since been a lie? Pretending to help her with the investigation in order to keep her close, see what she knew? Pretending to have romantic feelings for her again, suggesting they go to some foreign country together, so she’d help him get away before the FBI closed in?
Leila pulled free without answering. She wanted to run, but she was breathing so fast it felt like she was going to hyperventilate. Eric had been a track star in high school. Was there really any chance she could outrun him?
Would he kill her himself? Make it look like another mugging gone wrong?
Her hands fisted again, her breathing evening out, becoming more measured, deeper, as anger replaced her panic and disbelief. If he’d killed her father, she wasn’t running away, hoping to save herself. She was fighting. She was making sure there was no way it would look like anything but a deliberate murder if he killed her. If fury mattered as much as brute strength, she’d take him with her, the man she’d once loved so deeply.
That fact made his betrayal so much worse.
“Leila,” Eric whispered. “What’s happening right now?”
His tone was worried, but there was an undercurrent of something else, something she couldn’t quite identify.
“Hey, Leila, I was wondering—oh!”
Leila spun toward the sound of Theresa’s voice and found the head of R and D in the doorway of her office.
Theresa was looking back and forth between her and Eric with surprise and concern. She was also backing away, as if to give them privacy. “Sorry about that. I can come back la—”
“Theresa!” Leila’s voice came out too high-pitched and she tried to breathe deeply, calm herself down. Even though it made her want to cringe, she clutched Eric’s arm and gave him her best “follow my lead” look.
His forehead creased and his lips turned up, telling her he either didn’t understand what she was doing or didn’t believe it.
Pretend you still think it’s Theresa, Leila told herself, as the way out came to her. Pretend you’d been freaking out because you found something to suggest Theresa was the traitor.
Could she pull it off? Avert Eric’s suspicion long enough to tell Davis, to get him to check out Eric? Maybe even avert his suspicion long enough to save her life? Because if Eric was willing to kill her father over this, he was probably willing to do the same to her.
“It’s come to my attention that you didn’t ever want me to be CEO,” Leila said, making her tone aggressive and taking a step toward Theresa. She mentally apologized to the woman, who’d never been particularly friendly with her, but as far as Leila knew, had never publicly questioned her leadership.
Theresa shook her head, but she seemed more baffled at the sudden outburst than denying the accusation.
“Worse than that, Theresa, I’m seeing signs that you’ve—”
“Is this about the security card discrepancies?” Theresa cut her off. She sighed heavily, meant to be heard. “Your assistant already grilled me about this. Didn’t he tell you?” She frowned, glancing from Leila to Eric.
Leila followed her gaze. Eric wasn’t looking at Theresa, but at her. There was still suspicion in his gaze, but it seemed more like confusion than malice.
“Look, you’re right,” Theresa blurted as Leila continued to stare at Eric, uncertainty hitting.
Had she misinterpreted the records? Could there be some other explanation? Hope filled her. Eric’s friendship when they were kids had altered the trajectory of her life. And she knew Eric’s assertion that her father was the dad he’d never had wasn’t one-sided. Her father had loved Eric like a son. She desperately didn’t want all of that to
