Page 267 of Cheaters: A Dark Romance Anthology

File folder in hand, I exit the car and take the path to his porch steps. Sweat slicks my brow in the fifteen-foot distance. My shirt constricts my chest and arms. And with each breath I take, the air thins. Although I am not the guilty party, I hate bearing this news to a man who is nothing but wonderful to everyone he meets.

“Hey, Ted. Sorry about the weird call, but you’ll understand in a minute.”

He offers his hand and we shake. “You wouldn’t ask to meet like this if it wasn’t important. Doesn’t mean I like it, but I respect the discretion.”

Ted leads us inside, pours us each water, and shows me to his living room. I sip the water, set the glass down, take a deep breath, then dive headfirst into Ted’s biggest nightmare.

Once I finished reading Glen’s report, something else didn’t add up.

Although Garrett’s user ID was all over the transactions, it felt too easy. Almost sloppy. Garrett fit the profile for the time frame, but nothing else matches. If I don’t question the nagging in my gut, I may as well point the finger without undeniable evidence.

Garrett is a smart man. Has worked with Ted seventeen years. Is well known in the community and loved by those he works with. He gives back to the community and helps old ladies put groceries in their car.

Why would Garrett steal thousands of dollars?

The man is no millionaire, but he earns more than most dream of. More than me, and my pay is substantial.

So, I started looking at the situation as if I didn’t know anyone. Stopped letting my history with each person sway my opinion. And that is when a few things clicked in place, but not all. My hope is Ted helps connect the rest.

I lay the folder on the table as I finish the catastrophic news. Ted hangs his head, rests his elbows on his knees, then flexes and relaxes his fingers over and over. The tops of his ears grow redder with each jagged breath he takes.

Never has this man raised his voice. Never has he thrown something in anger. But right now, he looks capable of mass destruction.

Someone messed with what is his. Someone put his reputation and life at stake. And Ted… he is fucking pissed.

“Who knows what you’ve discovered?” he asks, meeting my eyes.

The sinister glint in his typically gentle eyes sends a chill down my spine. I shake my head. “You and me. No one else.”

“Your friend.” He gestures to the file. “What does he know?”

“He’s a tech nerd. Numbers are all he knows. No names.”

“You’re certain?”

I lean forward and look Ted square in the eye. “I trust him with my life.”

The room quiets for far too long. Ted stares at the folder, at the pile of documentation scattered over the table, at the figures any ethical person would vomit over had they caught it.

Ted sips his water, sits back, and stares out the window. “Here’s what we’re going to do…”

For the next half hour, Ted tells me his plan. We hash out the finer details and discuss what to do if different scenarios come into play before the big hurrah. It isn’t often Ted is in the thick of day-to-day activity at Stone Bay Financial, but that is only because he has other responsibilities. Seeing him like this, though, I imagine him being a force to reckon with years back.

I leave the file with him and head home. Over the weekend, I plan to do a little side digging of my own. Scour the internet for anything we missed or didn’t give attention to years ago.

Lawrence: Headed home. What’s your ETA?

While I went to talk with Ted, Skylar went into the office to make up lost hours from the day of the flat tire.

Skylar: Leaving in ten. Yours or mine?

Lawrence: Yours. Mine is a mess. I’ll grab clothes and meet you soon. Food?

Skylar: A BBQ double bacon cheeseburger, onion rings and a shake from the diner sounds perfect.

Lawrence: Think I’ll get the same. See you in a bit.

Skylar: Mwah!

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