Page 33 of Enticing the Fixer

“She looked like she had things going on.”

“Bite me.” He leans back into his chair, causing it to squeak under his weight. “How bad did your weekend’s extra-curricular activities blow up in your face?”

“Massively.”

“Good.” His shoulders relax a fraction of an inch. “What have you found out?”

“Who is your client?” I tap my fingertips on the leather arms of the chair.

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Kinsley deserves to know what’s going on.” I shrug. “So I told her I was working for a security company to investigate the company.”

“Leo,” he growls.

“Whatever.” I jump out of my seat and pace between the desk and the windows overlooking a downtown intersection. The cement buildings are non-descript, and the traffic is bumper to bumper. “You shouldn’t have hired me when you know I don’t need the money.”

“You’re right,” he sighs. “But you’re better than any of my computer staff, and I needed immediate results. I assume you’ve found something, or you wouldn’t have felt the need to confess your sins. Or was that the first night when you were begging to get into her–”

“Enough.” The muscles in my jaw twitch. “Your client was right to be concerned. Someone has installed a virus to collect a client’s PPI, which is bad enough. But there’s also one cent missing from every transaction in the accounting system. Whoever is doing it is trying to make her look bad. Whether it’s to discredit her or drive down the value of the business, I don’t know.” I spin on my heel. “If I knew more about the players, I could narrow it down. I’m flying blind here.”

“You don’t think it’s her?”

I stop and face him. “And her motive would be to make herself look bad? Or to make her business less lucrative?”

He waits for a second and then says, “No, I don’t think she’s stupid. Nor do I think she’s behind it.”

“Thank you.” She needs more than me in her corner. Especially since she doesn’t want me around.

“Software glitch?”

“Not hardly. I know the software. There’s no design flaw. And no. I don’t think she’s stealing money from her business.”

“That hypothesis isn’t clouded by all the blood in your dick?”

“No.” I rake my fingers through my hair. It’s not, is it? No. It’s not. She’s innocent. I would stake my life on it. “She doesn’t know who’s responsible. And she wants me gone.”

“Why? That seems suspicious. Why wouldn’t she want you to find out who’s behind the crime?”

The pain in her eyes flashes into my head, and I can’t dislodge it. “She’s been through a lot, and she doesn’t deserve for someone to be jerking her around.” Including me. Damn it. I should have stayed away.

“Okay.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Go on.”

“The two situations might be unrelated. One might be intended to discredit her in public opinion, force a change in leadership, or sell the company. And the second could be a greedy person thinking no one will notice a missing penny. And they wouldn’t have. Whoever is behind it made it look like the system is designed to round down for each transaction, but that’s not how the software was designed. I should know. I created it.”

“Is she going to have you escorted off the premises if you show up tomorrow? It will be easier to find out who’s behind both situations if you have open access to the computer systems.”

“I don’t know if she’ll let me in again, but I’m going to try. She doesn’t deserve to have either situation happening. She’s trying hard to run the company, and sometimes the good guys need to win, and the bad guys should get arrested.”

She might not want my help, but she will get it anyway. I hate it when someone takes advantage of another person. It makes me want to toss off my black-rimmed glasses and grab a cape with a big ‘S’ on the back. Or maybe an ‘L’ for Leo to the rescue.

Chapter Fifteen

Kinsley

“Repeat that again.” Ann’s eyes are bugged out as she stands across from me in the apartment above the bar. No one lives here now, but the five Callahan siblings use the space as a hangout area when they’re not downstairs.

“The guy I hooked up with Saturday night is my employee. My fake employee,” I mumble. The blades of the ceiling fan circle above my head, like vultures as they hover above roadkill.

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