Page 42 of Seal My Fate

“It was Phillip,” Saint announces grimly, getting up to pour more coffee.

Wren gasps. “What? No!”

“He’s her friend,” I argue.

“I would trust him with my life,” Wren swears.

“You already did,” Saint says. “And look how that turned out. Take the evidence: Outside the people sitting in this room, Phillip is the only person who even knows you’re still alive.”

I see Wren’s expression slip.

“Plus, he’s been promoted at Ashford…” I say slowly, realizing how much it makes sense. “He’s replaced Valerie as head of the whole project now. That’s not a small role; you saw the penthouse. I’m guessing there’s a huge pay package to match.”

“Stock options, bonuses for taking the drug through to launch…” Saint agrees. “Ashford likes to make sure everyone is invested in their success. Which means he’s got a lot to lose if we manage to expose the fraud.”

“And you told him where we were hiding you!” I exclaim, chilled. “Remember, you made that joke about Farleigh-Under-Lyme? I’m betting the minute we left his place, he reported everything to his boss at Ashford.”

“Oh my God.” Wren pauses, looking stricken. “You’re right. But that wasn’t Phillip in the woods,” she adds, frowning. “The man with the gun was broader, and more athletic. Phillip couldn’t run a mile to save his life, and he’s never even touched a gun.”

“Ashford wouldn’t send their prized scientist for a job like this.” Saint shakes his head. “They’d send someone they trust. Someone used to getting his hands dirty.”

I notice that Saint keeps saying ‘Ashford’ is behind all this, instead of naming Alexander St. Clair. Maybe it makes it easier for him to think of the company, and not his own father planning Wren’s murder like this.

In cold blood.

“The question is, what do we do now?” I ask slowly.

“You mean, besides taking Phillip apart for nearly getting the two of you killed?” Saint asks, and I can tell by the spark of fury in his eyes, he’s not even kidding.

“We shouldn’t do anything,” Wren says suddenly. When I look over in surprise, I see her expression is focused now, thinking fast.

“But he betrayed you!” I protest.

“Exactly. We know now that he’s reporting every move up to his bosses at Ashford. So, let’s use that,” she proposes. “When he gets in touch again, we act like we still trust him.”

“We could even give him false info to pass back to them,” I suggest. “Say we’re quitting the whole plan. Maybe if Ashford think we’re dropping it, they’ll ease up.”

“What do you think?” Wren asks Saint, who’s been sitting there silently with his coffee.

“I think Ashford isn’t easing anything, not as long as you’re still a walking liability. But it might buy us some time,” he adds with a nod. “Stop them from sending any more armed heavies.”

“Text him now,” Wren tells me. “Say we need to meet ASAP.”

“But don’t think I’m letting you out of my sight,” Saint says fiercely.

“You can’t come,” I try to argue. “It’ll spook Phillip. He’s already intimidated enough by you, you’re the boss, remember?”

Saint clenches his jaw stubbornly. “Fine, I won’t meet him, but I’ll be there, watching. I’ll have your backs.”

I stifle a smile. Is it weird to be turned on by this protective streak? I know we’ve all been through a lot in the past twenty-four hours, but seeing Saint so determined to keep me safe makes my heart melt a little.

And other places, too.

I send Phillip the message, and quickly get a response. “He can meet at lunchtime, today. He suggested a café, near the river.”

Saint knows the spot, and nods. “It’s crowded, with lots of tourists around. Nobody would try coming after you there.”

“OK…” I text back, confirming, then look over at Wren. I can tell she’s still trying to wrap her head around Phillip’s betrayal. “Will you manage to act like you’re still friends?” I ask, worried. “If he thinks we’re onto him…”

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