Chances (Mystic Nights #1) (15 page)

He brought his hands to her arms and rubbed them soothingly. He felt some of her tension leaving. He could see that the abortion had really changed her. “Can I ask you something?” Jonathan asked softly.

She nodded and he proceeded. “Why did you have the abortion? I’m not judging you. I never would. I just want to know what was going through you head then.”

She let out a long slow breath, the sound of it echoed in the dark, empty theatre. “My fiancé was a detective,” she started, and paused, remembering that time in her life. “He was older than me by nearly six years. He had just been assigned his first case, and it was to catch a serial killer. Andreas had been so excited to have been given his new partner and first assignment.” God, what they hadn’t realized back then was how much his job would infiltrate every corner of their life. They had been so young. Both of them. She wet her lips, took a steadying breath. “He worked the case four months and finally caught a break. Got an identity. Found the man’s wife. He exposed him to the world. But the man got away.” Of God, if he hadn’t, her life would have turned out so differently. But she had stopped looking back many years ago. She surged ahead. “That killer began to threaten him. He wanted revenge for Andreas destroying his life and he threatened me as well.” She heard Jonathan’s gasp. His body tensed. Again, she continued. “I know. I was terrified when I found out. And he didn’t even tell me. It made me so mad. But he thought he was protecting me. Sadly, it gave me a reason to get out. Even before that, I knew I shouldn’t marry him. I mean, he was a great man. But when I knew I couldn’t pursue ballet, and school was done, I was lost for a while and that’s when I met him. I rushed into the relationship. He was so dedicated to his job, his family. Anyhow, I ended it. Out of fear, and confusion, I left New York, and went to Vegas to find myself. I only found out about the pregnancy after I left. Then I was too scared to go back, and I knew if I did I would live in fear.”

Wow, he had been thrown. No wonder she had done what she did. There had been so much going on, and she was alone, or felt that way. “Darling, I don’t know how any other girl would have coped in that situation. You did what you thought was right at the time.”

Aliya let out a cry of anguish, for her loss and regret, and threw herself into his arms. Talking about it, saying it out loud lifted a heavy burden from her shoulders. Having the courage to tell him about her confusion, and the circumstances surrounding her actions all those years ago, freed her and gave her the courage to say what she had been thinking all week. “I’m falling for you, Jonathan. Hard. I just wanted no secrets between us. Nothing that could hurt us later.”

He pulled her flush up against him, holding onto this incredibly strong woman who’d been to hell and back. Her road had not been an easy one. “And now there aren’t any,” he stated with conviction as he held her close. He felt her head nod against him and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He would hold her for as long as she needed him to.

*

In the early
evening Jonathan continued to work the books. He’d taken Aliya out for an early, therapeutic dinner and then left her back in the theatre with promises to meet after her show. Their talk brought them closer, and he was feeling pretty good about where their relationship was going.

But looking over the books for the last hour had him aggravated once more. He had just called Simon to come and speak with him. He’d found several more errors, things Simon should have caught. He was seriously fed up. The man should have figured this out. Especially if
he
was finding these simple mistakes.

His door was open and he saw Simon enter. He wasted no time. “Simon. I am disappointed. I’m not going to lie,” he started.

The look on Simon’s face showed surprise. He went on. “You told me last week you did not make mistakes. Well, I’ve been going over the books, and so far I see mistakes that amount to nearly a quarter of a million dollars. Stupid, bullshit mistakes.”

“I’m not sure what . . .”

Jonathan cut him off. “We have one week. One fucking week before the auditors get here.” He handed him copies of the mistakes he found, the errors circled in red. Pushing the stack of papers into Simon’s chest none too gently, he added, “Find the others, or it’s your ass.” He was done with being politically correct or using diplomacy.

Simon had stepped back and was examining the papers. He looked apprehensive as he looked at the figures. Panic clearly was in the man’s eyes. Jonathan was glad. The man needed to panic. Needed to do his job.

“I see it now. I really don’t know how this happened.” Simon looked nervous as hell. He opened his mouth to speak once more. Stopped, and started. “I’ve never made mistakes like this before, Jonathan,” he stalled for time. Lying. Placing the papers back on the desk, Simon hoped Jonathan would give him the benefit of the doubt. He’d been foolish to think no one would find these errors until he was gone. He needed time. He pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped his brow.

Jonathan looked at the man. He looked green. Shit, the cancer, he remembered. “All right. Calm down, but find these mistakes, Simon. The rest of them. If the auditors see this, we are screwed. The money has to be here. I’m not accusing. . . You’ve got to find it.”

Simon began to nod his head profusely. “No, no. You’re right. The money has to be here. I will take all these books and ledgers. . .” He started towards the pile of papers on Jonathan’s desk.

Jonathan stopped him. “Nope. Sorry. I am going to keep digging myself. Use the computer ledgers. But find those other mistakes, Simon. I need your help on this.” His tone brokered no argument. “But, I’m really disappointed it has come to this. And if by Wednesday we don’t find anything. You don’t find the rest, well, I will have to bring in an independent team to examine the books.”

Simon stared at Jonathan, a shocked look on his face. “Wednesday? That’s three days away. And you can’t bring in an independent team. You can’t do that without board approval. You need permission. If the press gets wind of it, the gaming commission. . .”

Jonathan gave Simon his most menacing stare. “What the hell? I’m covering your ass, too. You need to keep your mouth shut. The board?”
Was the man Crazy?
“They’ll shut us down either way. Clean house here at Mystic, and probably press charges. At least this way we can catch the mistakes, or crooks,” he emphasized that word, “ourselves and save all of our asses.”

Simon shook his head in shame. “Um, yeah. Ok. You are right. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ll. . . I’ll get right on it.” He began to back out, headed towards the door, and escape. He needed to call Peter. Peter would tell him what to do.

He heard Jonathan’s words as he crossed the threshold. “Don’t disappoint me, Simon.”

Simon didn’t answer. He fled to his office like the devil was after him.

*

As soon as
Simon was in the privacy of his own office, he plucked his cell phone from his pocket and sat down heavily in the chair behind his desk. He needed to call Peter. If Jonathan brought in a team of independent auditors Wednesday, that would destroy their plans. Two million had already been siphoned out of the casino. Two more was coming out Friday. It was the big prize they had saved for last. The plan had been for the casino to look like it was losing money this quarter and the reserve would have demanded the Sassacus reign and control of Mystic Nights be terminated.

Peter wanted the job. Simon knew that. He was angry Tawny had been given the reins and she had brought her brood in to keep her family in control. But if they figured out what was going on and exposed him, then Peter would be the next to appear on their radar while he would spend the rest of his life behind bars. He didn’t want that. And Peter would kill him. Peter, he had set this whole thing up. Had used his cancer and the lure of money to get those trial treatments his health plans didn’t cover. Only Peter knew his cancer was back. His remission hadn’t lasted long.

He had confided that to Peter. And Peter had then proposed the plan. Simon would get the money. Retire. Go get treatment, and Peter would get the Mystic, and a smaller share of the cash. No one would ever know. The accounts they had set up in the Bahamas could not be traced to them, but he knew Jonathan would soon connect the dots. Wonder how Simon had made, or not caught all those errors. Then when the money couldn’t be found, his fate would be sealed. Well, like hell if he was going down alone on this! Peter better come up with something, or else. After four rings, the phone went to Peter’s voicemail.

He hung up, and tried again. This time, Peter answered. On the second ring.

“What’s up?” Peter snapped when he saw it was Simon.

Simon quickly filled him in. “Jonathan is beginning to suspect.”

“Suspect what?” Simon heard the menace in Peter’s voice.

“He’s already found errors amounting to a quarter million. He’s talking about bringing in an independent team of accountants on Wednesday . . .”

“Shit. This is not good, Simon. We need to stall him. Distract him.” Peter was angry. And afraid. Simon heard it.

“But he said he will bring in a team. How do I stall that? They will find the discrepancies and they will see the money is not here in a matter of hours.”

“Go see Jonathan first thing in the morning. Tell him you found more errors. Tell him . . . shit . . . tell him the independent team is a good idea, you know someone, and you’ll call them.”

“What?”
Was the man nuts?

“But you don’t call anyone.” Peter shook his head. The man obviously was clueless when it came to anything but numbers.

Simon clued in. “Okay that gives us until Wednesday, then what do I do when they don’t show?”

“Tell them the flight was delayed. Whatever. Think of something. But, can we move the money, the rest of it earlier? Just in case.” He wanted the auditors to find the mistakes, make the accusations. Not the board and not him. Just in case this thing blew up, having the money sitting in Nassua would be his back up. His. Simon wouldn’t be around to share in that. The man was an idiot, and a loose end. Loose ends got cut.

“I don’t know.” Simon was shaking his head to an empty room. “Maybe we should just keep what we have and run.”

Peter let out an exasperated sigh. He needed to reassure the man. He couldn’t have him panicking anymore than he already was. He needed no slip ups now, when they were so close. “Listen Simon. Those millions are there as back up. The bigger pie for me is the casino. I want it all. The plan was to take them down. All of them. We need to keep him distracted. Just long enough to get what we want and take down those proud cocky Sassacus’s once and for all. So you just keep doing what you are doing. Stay the course. Move as much as you can and I will handle Jonathan.”

Simon swallowed the lump in his throat. He was terrified of being caught. “Okay. I will.”

“Good, good. Now call me if you need me. I’ll keep my phone close. Do the same.” Peter made sure he sounded confident. He didn’t want to spook Simon. God only knew what the man might do.

After saying goodbye, and to keep his chin up, Peter hung up and Simon mopped his brow once more. The plan had been foolproof, he thought morosely. Then Jonathan started checking the books himself. Stay the course! Fuck that! Well, he had a backup plan of his own.

Simon booted up his computer and opened the books. He clicked a few buttons and moved a bit more of the money. Another half million. Half into his account and half into Peter’s. Tomorrow he would do the same. By Tuesday he would have all four million transferred. Into his account. Then he was getting out of Dodge. Fuck Wednesday. And fuck Peter.

‡