“Her name is Collette Drummond.”
His stare traveled over her face for a long heartbeat. Then he took her mug. “Let me pour you a new cup.”
She watched him dump the coffee in the sink and pour her another mug. Now that she’d given Oaks the name, a strangetingle of relief flooded her system. When he returned with her coffee, she took it in her hands and let the warmth from the porcelain seep into her skin.
“Collette Drummond.”
Her gaze flashed to his. “Do you know her?”
“Not the circles I run in. Now start at the beginning.”
She did, relating how she started working for William’s tech company and quickly rose to the top of her department. The swift way she climbed the ranks made the big boss man take notice of her.
“When he started popping over to my desk to discuss what I was working on, it was pretty flattering. But more importantly, the conversations were stimulating. I enjoyed my work, and talking to somebody who understands the industry on that high a level and has so much passion for it… Well, I got a little carried away.”
She dropped her stare to the wood grain pattern of the table and traced a line with her fingertip. “I feel so naïve now. I just thought William was a great guy. He wanted to take me on wine tours in California. He took me to France during Paris Fashion Week. When he told me I should go shopping—on his dime—I was so excited that I rushed right into a shop I’d been dying to browse.”
She stole a peek at Oaks’s face. His grim expression told her just how little he was liking this story, but he wagged his fingers for her to continue.
Taking a sip of coffee, she savored the flavor while gathering her thoughts.
“What happened when you rushed into the shop?” Oaks prompted.
She lowered her gaze to her fingers wrapped around the mug. “I realized that he forgot to kiss me goodbye. So I ran outside to see him shaking hands with a guy. A big guy.”
“Russian? With tattoos?”
“Yes. I’m sure of it. When I saw him with the man, I went into the shop. I study people for patterns in their behavior. Up until that point, I hadn’t seen any in William.”
“Then you did.”
She nodded. “When he said let’s go to London, I was all for it. But then he left me in the hotel for an hour…and I realized he must be meeting people.”
She broke off as Layne walked into the kitchen, looking polished in an oversized sweater and jeans, her hair in a smooth ponytail.
Shiloh fell silent. Oaks didn’t speak either.
“Okay, this is awkward. I’ll just grab my coffee and go.” Layne strode to the coffeemaker.
A glimmer of amusement slipped into Oaks’s gray eyes. “Don’t mind us. We’re only discussing matters of national security here.”
“Don’t let me interrupt!” With coffee in hand, Layne hightailed it out the door.
The moment defused some of the tension bouncing between Shiloh and Oaks. Their stares met.
With a heavy sigh, she went on with her story. “I feel guilty about being so easily distracted by money. Maybe my parents were right to say he was above my station and I didn’t understand all the terrible things that money could do to people.”
Oaks studied her but said nothing.
“William would send me to the spa or shopping as a reason to get me out so he could have these meetings with the Russians. And I started drawing more connections.”
“Like what?” His voice carried a new edge, as if this was what he’d laid awake at night wondering.
She withdrew the burner phone he got her from her pocket. It was a simple device, without all the bells and whistles of a smartphone…but she could still access her calendar. She pulled up the screen with a few swipes and slid the phone toward Oaks.
He scooped it up. “Your calendar.”
“Yes. I started noting when these meetings happened. After the second time, I realized a terrorist attack took place in the world shortly following.”