Page 77 of Best Laid Plans

"I'll be on my knees and—" I saw Beau's eyes flare. "Not like that, for God's sake. To apologize."

Beau nodded. "That's her call. But she sheds one tear because of you, and I'll—"

"You won't have to," I said softly. "This is on me."

"She doesn't need your money or anyone else's. She just inherited a third of the money my father left. It's not Larue money, but it's enough that she doesn't need to work ever again if she doesn't want to."

I closed my eyes as the meaning of what he was saying sank in. She was Emmett Bodine's daughter. She could've just made that knowledge public, and gotten her share of the inheritance. She hadn't.

"Trev has known for a while. I found out today. Trev is in Atlanta, so he wasn't there when she got arrested. He asked me to handle it and let it slip. I'll be tellin' my mother soon—and most of Savannah society will hear about it, ‘cause everyone is in fuckin' everyone's business there."

"I can relate," I muttered.

"Now, we're clear, aren't we, that you'll not fuck up my sister again? Oh, and when you hear about Raymond Carre's untimely demise, act surprised." Beau Bodine, I realized, was not some playboy-soft CEO type. He was dangerous.

I quirked an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah. And I expect you to deal with Pete Fontaine. Don't make me do it, 'cause I'll have him fuckin' killed, not just for what he did seven years ago but for how he traumatized her yesterday. Now, you? You've done your part by not trustin' a woman who is fuckin' awesome. Your punishment is losin' her. I hope she kicks you hard when you're on your knees, ‘cause you don't deserve forgiveness."

He took a couple of steps toward my door but came back. Poured himself another shot of bourbon and downed it. "Fuck that's smooth. Be seein' you around on your knees, asshole."

With that parting shot, Nova's brother walked out of my office, and then my house.

I sat on the couch, stunned at what I'd learned. It was late, but I called Kiefer and Diego, and told them about the USB stick. My IT skills were good, and I was smart enough not to plug strange USBs into my computer. We decided we'd go through it first thing in the morning.

I wanted to go to Nova, but I knew I had to finish what I needed to do with Bailey and Pete first. Only then would I deserve to even begin begging for her forgiveness.

I barely got any sleep that night.

I wondered how gullible, ruthless Anson Larue was that his fiancée had been cheating on him with his friend, the same friend who'd had his girlfriend assaulted and probably framed for stealing.

I wondered why he did it. I wondered who he did it with. I had a lot of questions that I hoped to get answers to, but right now, he'd give me nothing. I'd have to twist his nuts. Now that I would do with pleasure.

I called Nina first thing in the morning and begged her not to do anything until I could come and make my case. I'd explained the best I could what had happened, and she gave me a week to get my shit together.

I called Nova and was sent straight to voicemail. When I tried to text her, I realized she'd blocked me. I didn't deserve better, I knew that.

I went to the office early and nagged Kiefer to get this whole mess sorted. He was not a morning person, and he didn't come into the office until ten, so when I asked him to get in by eight, he was just about ready to kill me. What he found on the USB stick didn't help me.

"Someone hacked into our network to get this," Kiefer screeched as they went through the contents of the USB stick on an air-gap computer. He was our CFO and a closet IT nerd, which came in handy because he also managed all IT for Larue Homes. "Christ on a fucking crutch, Anson. We need a system re-haul if someone can just waltz in and poke around."

Diego leaned against a wall, arms folded. The son of a bitch looked smug as hell, and he hadn't said, I told you so, but then he didn't have to, because every time I looked at his face, that was the message he was broadcasting.

Kiefer explained that Bailey had been moving money ever since the Sentinel Heights project had been established. The amounts had been small, but they'd added up to nearly a hundred thousand dollars. Beau had helpfully traced the money to a bank account in Atlanta, which was under Bailey's mother's name.

"How could this happen?" I asked Kiefer.

"She had access to everything because she worked for you," he grumbled. "And she knew how much to move without tripping over any alarms. She's been doing this for nine months."

"And she decided to frame Nova for it?" Diego asked.

"Yeah; even manipulated so it looked like all the money had been taken since Savannah Lace came on board." Kiefer banged on some keys. "What the fuck was Bailey doin' with the money?"

"I can't say," I confessed. I had no clue what Bailey was doing or why she was doing it. I thought maybe she had just tried to frame Nova, but now I realized she'd been stealing from the company for a while and now found a convenient scapegoat, one I handed to her on a silver platter.

"I now have to take this to…who? Savannah PD or the ADA here in Sentinel, or fuckin' Pete Fontaine?" Kiefer asked, exasperated.

"Pete is persona non grata," I warned.

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