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Authors: Gail Sattler

Head Over Heels (18 page)

BOOK: Head Over Heels
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Jessie had deliberately pushed him. Maybe she hadn't meant to nearly kill him, but the fact remained that there could have been a very different ending.

“We'd been working together all day, and I guess she didn't expect me to work through lunch. After that, I wouldn't have left my office until it was time to go home. She needed at least a few minutes to find and copy that file, more time than she'd get if she just waited until my back was turned.”

“Couldn't she have waited until you went to the bathroom?”

“Uh, guys don't take as long as women, Marielle….”

The pause on the other end told him that she was blushing.

He smiled just thinking about it, and found that he needed the dash of lightness for relief.

But his relief was short-lived. A
beep
signified a new e-mail, and it was a message from Jessie with the address to which he was to upload the file…or else…

“I have to go. I'll call you back.”

Russ stared at Jessie's e-mail, which was only the address to the server. No text.

If he didn't upload the file, she might follow through on her threat.

He couldn't be with Marielle 24/7 to protect her, and even a restraining order wasn't a sure thing when the other party was desperate, as Jessie appeared to be.

Russ said a prayer for forgiveness and e-mailed the file to Jessie, knowing that she knew he was beaten, that he wouldn't call the police.

But he could call Marielle. And he did.

She listened quietly while he explained the whole story, and his thoughts, and his warning.

“What are you going to do?”

“There's nothing I can do. The police didn't find any fingerprints at your house after the break-in, and so they won't find any at the church, either. She was obviously smart enough to wear gloves. And just because she stuck her head out the window of my office, that isn't proof that she pushed me. Besides, you couldn't give a positive ID. I'm just assuming it was Jessie because everyone else was outside shortly after it happened, and they said she wasn't. It may be incriminating that she disappeared right at that moment, but she's a contract employee and she works her own days and hours. Also, her neighbors just think she went on vacation. When it comes down to it, it would turn into her word against ours, because we have no solid evidence for a court case. And if she didn't go to jail, the threat has been made. I can't take the risk that she'd hurt you. I have to keep quiet.”

“But what about Byron? If she's blackmailing him, surely he'd be anxious to get her arrested, at least for that?”

“I haven't talked to him about it yet. He doesn't even know that I know. I can't imagine this is something he'd be anxious to share with anyone. Especially since we're only business associates.”

“But you have to tell Byron that you know about what she's doing, and that you know it's a fabrication. Then whatever Jessie does won't matter.”

“I can't be sure of that. What if Jessie still gives the video to Byron's wife? That video is so well done that I wouldn't have been able to tell it was a fabrication if I hadn't paused it and analyzed the pixel coloring. But even if Byron's wife did believe him, that would increase the reason for Jessie to retaliate. She'd go to jail for that, but they don't keep a person in jail forever, even for extortion and attempted murder. You'd never be safe. So my answer is no, I'm not telling him anything. I need more time.”

“That's it?”

“Yes. I know it will cost Byron a lot of money, but it's only money. You're safe, his marriage is safe, and that's where it's got to stay. I have to get back to work now, I have a lot to do. I'll see you Friday evening. Goodbye, Marielle.”

Chapter Seventeen

M
arielle stared at the phone.

Jessie had almost killed Russ, and it wasn't even a crime of hatred. Jessie did it simply to get him out of the way.

Marielle couldn't imagine a person so cold and heartless that they would do such a thing, but yet the world was full of such evil. Never in her worst dreams would she have imagined something like this could happen to someone she knew.

And he wasn't going to do anything about it out of concern for her, and for Byron's marriage.

It's only money.

She could barely believe he'd said that. While Russ had more than enough money to make ends meet now, he had known a time when he didn't have enough money to live. His family had only survived through charity, and by a debt that took Russ ten years of his life to pay off.

Usually people who said “only” in front of the word
money
had never known what it was like not to have any. As the saying went, Money can't buy love, but love doesn't pay the rent.

And this wasn't only about money. It was extortion, it was illegal, and it would also be never-ending.

A threat had been made, and she admired Russ's decision to protect her, and to protect his client's marriage. But this time, it wasn't Russ's decision to make. The threat had been made against Marielle, and therefore, it was her decision.

Marielle walked into the kitchen and pulled Russ's flash drive out from under one of the cups in the back of the cupboard. She wasn't going to watch the sickening video, even though she knew it was fake. What she was going to obtain was far more important than that.

She plugged it into her computer, opened the window and read the name of the file—which was the name of the company. Then she called up the company's Web site and went to the page listing the board of directors. She remembered hearing the man's first name, so she scrolled down the list to find his full name and direct line.

Marielle took a few seconds to pray for wisdom, and dialed. A man answered.

“Am I speaking to Byron Tanner?”

“This is Byron Tanner.”

“You don't know me. My name is Marielle McGee and I'm a friend of Russ Branson.”

Byron paused. “Yes?”

Marielle thought the hesitation in his voice was un
derstandable. “I'm calling to tell you that Russ and I know about the video Jessie made, and we know it's a fabrication.”

The line remained silent, which Marielle had expected, so she gave Byron time to think.

“Go ahead,” he finally said.

Marielle started at the beginning, explaining how they found the file, how Russ discovered it was altered, and how they figured out that Jessie was using it to extort money out of him, which he agreed was correct. “I know you think you're protecting your wife, but that might be only short term. I also have to admit that I have ulterior motives for calling.” Marielle paused to take a deep breath. “I was once engaged, and my fiancé was cheating on me. As is typical, I was the last to know. I know people were talking about me behind my back, and it hurt. It still hurts that no one told me. I also still feel the hurt of the betrayal. The reason I wanted to tell you this personally, beyond the issue with the money and how wrong this is, is that I don't want someone else to suffer the way I did. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yes, I think so…”

“If Jessie goes forward with this, even though it's a complete scam, it would hurt your wife deeply. There's also the trust. Once the seed has been planted, doubts are impossible to erase.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I'm trying to say, don't take the chance that someone else will tell her or show her the video. Don't wait for the day it becomes an issue. Tell her yourself,
and tell her now. If you want, I can be there, or you can have her call me to verify that this is the truth. I'll testify in court for you, too, if you want me to.”

There was silence for a moment on the line.

“I need time to think about what you've said,” said Byron. “Thank you for telling me. It actually feels good to have someone say that, and know it isn't true. I'll probably be in touch with you.”

Marielle gave Byron her office number, her home number and her cell number, and then left for the youth center.

When she arrived, there was another vehicle in the parking lot, but it wasn't Russ's SUV. It was a news van, complete with a photographer and a reporter.

The reporter held a microphone in her face. “Are you Marielle McGee, the person who runs this program?”

“Uh… Yes…”

“I've been assigned to run a human interest segment on inner-city youth organizations, and I remembered that an accident down there last month led to your group receiving a donation of computers and tutoring from an employee of the company that made the donations. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions and we took some pictures?”

“First I have to ask the participants if they're okay with having their pictures taken.”

The reporter smiled. “Don't worry. It's standard procedure for us to have them sign waivers, and if any of them are underage, we ask them to have their parents or legal guardian sign a waiver before we go to print.”

“Okay, in that case, ask me anything you want.”

 

Marielle leaned closer to the washroom mirror and added a touch of blush to her cheeks and returned to the youth center room.

Brittany rushed to her side. “Russ is coming, isn't he?”

“Yes. Did you see our pictures in the paper this morning?” asked Marielle.

Brittany nodded so fast her hair bounced. “Yes. Is what the article said true?”

Marielle led Brittany to the desk. “It sure is. But let's talk about that when Russ gets here. I bought a whole pile of newspapers this morning, and I cut out and laminated a copy of the picture and the article for everyone in it. Would you like to help me hand them out?” The teens were gathered and waiting expectantly.

As Brittany identified everyone in the photo and gave the copies out, Marielle watched her pile disappear. It had cost to get all the laminating done, but the photo of everyone together as a happy group was just too good not to save. For most of the teens, having their picture in the newspaper would be a once-in-a-lifetime event. Marielle wanted them all to have a memento of this group for when they got older, hopefully to keep them motivated in striving for the best life had to offer.

When Russ's SUV pulled into the parking lot, all the chatter died to a silence. The second the door opened and Russ stepped inside the building, cheers erupted.

He grinned from ear to ear. “I see you all read the paper.”

The group cheered again.

Marielle quickly stepped up to him and shooed everyone else away. “Did you read about the funding?”

Russ nodded. “Yes. Did you find out how much your group is getting?”

“No, but it doesn't matter how much. Anything is better than nothing.”

“Agreed. Now I have some great news for you.”

“I can hardly wait.”

“Grant gave me the promotion. All the publicity has already made a difference, in just one day, but he said he was planning on giving it to me anyway. So you're now looking at the new vice president.”

Marielle grasped his hands. “That's wonderful! Tell me, what's the first thing you're going to do?”

Russ's smile widened. “Put my house up for sale.”

Marielle dropped his hands. “Pardon me?”

“My first assignment is to open up a new branch, and that means moving.”

“Moving? Where?”

“Across the state.”

“Did you know about this? Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes, this is exactly what I wanted. I've been working toward this for years. I can hardly believe it's finally happened.”

Marielle forced herself to smile, but she had a feeling it looked as phony as it felt. “Then I'm happy for you.”

“After we wind everything up tonight, would you like to go out and celebrate with me? It can be the first entry on my new expense account.”

Celebrating was the last thing she felt like doing. Yet,
she'd known all along that he'd been striving for a promotion to kick his career up to the next level. She just hadn't thought it would involve losing him. Not that she had ever had him.

“I'm not sure. Maybe—”

The ring tone of Russ's cell phone cut off her words, which was a profound relief.

He checked the display, then held the phone to his ear.

“Hi, Byron! What can I do for you?”

Suddenly, he smiled. “That's great! Just give me a call when you're ready, and I'll do everything I can to get you back on schedule.”

Russ flicked the phone shut. “That was Byron. He says he's ready to get going again with his project. It was nearly finished when he shut it down.”

Marielle nodded. “That's good news. I hope he can—”

This time, Marielle's cell phone rang.

She checked the display and didn't recognize the number, but she flicked the phone open and answered it anyway.

“Hi, Marielle. This is Byron Tanner. We spoke the other day.”

“Yes. Of course. I remember talking to you. How's it going?” Marielle listened, nodding and muttering her agreement as Byron relayed his story—and how everything was okay with his wife.

“That's great! You've very welcome. I'm glad it all worked out.”

She closed the phone and tucked it back in her
pocket. “That was Byron. He says he talked to his wife about what's been happening. Apparently he was putting the money through his business, paying Jessie out as contract labor so his wife wouldn't see what was happening—and it was putting his company in financial difficulty. He informed the bank, and thanks to a very alert clerk, the police were called when Jessie was in the process of cashing a check. They traced the money that's been going out of the account, and arrested three more people, one of them a juvenile who is already known to the police. He's not a member of your group, so that's a relief!”

“I figured as much, and it looks like I was right, because he wants to…” Russ's voice trailed off. “Wait just a minute. Why did he call you to tell you this?”

Marielle gulped. “After you and I talked, I phoned Byron and told him that we knew what was going on, and that we would stand up for him either to his wife, or in court.”

Russ crossed his arms over his chest. “I thought we agreed that you were going to drop it.”


I
didn't say that.
You
said that. Since you were so worried about me, I took the initiative and called Byron, so if anything happened, you wouldn't blame yourself.”

“You shouldn't have taken that risk.”

“It was something I had to do. I couldn't let it continue, for his sake, for his wife's sake, and for ours. Wrong is wrong, Russ. But it's okay now. Everyone has been arrested, so there's no one left to carry out her threats. I would think the police should be calling you soon to ask if you'll press charges for attempted murder.”

“I didn't want you to get involved in this.”

“I was involved whether I wanted to be or not. How do you think it was going to get solved?”

Russ stiffened. “I was going to talk to Byron's wife, and at the same time, I was going to mention the threats Jessie made about you. I'm guessing you missed that little detail when you talked to Byron, didn't you?” Russ said.

“Of course I didn't tell him. If I had told him, I don't know if he would have talked to his wife or dealt with it so quickly. Maybe he would have tried to do something stupid himself. It's just that there is so much money involved. I don't know. I think this was a good solution. And now it's over.” Marielle sighed.

“Don't you understand? Your
life
could have been over! How could you be so irresponsible?”

“Me?” Marielle pressed one palm over her heart. “You're the one who was going to let it go.”

“I wasn't going to let it go!” He waved a hand in the air. “I was trying to figure out what to do! I couldn't take the risk that she would have done to you what she did to me. I would have figured something out—I just needed a little time.”

“Then I saved you the trouble. The whole group is under arrest. I don't understand why you're so angry.”

“I'm angry because…” Russ cut off his own words and gritted his teeth. “I'm just angry, okay!”

“Will you quit shouting? Everyone is starting to stare.”

He froze, and his arms dropped to his sides. “This isn't going to work. I think I should go home. I have to pack and leave first thing in the morning, anyway. I'll see you around.”

Before she could respond, he spun on his heel and stormed out of the center.

Brittany appeared at her side. “He sure seems mad.”

“He's not mad. He's angry.”

“Whatever. He's leaving. Aren't you going to go after him?”

Marielle watched through the window as his taillights disappeared around the corner.

He'd told her honestly from the beginning what he wanted, and it wasn't her. She had no right to be disappointed, no right to feel hurt.

But she couldn't help it. A part of her had been ripped away. Losing him was going to leave a huge, aching hole in her heart for the rest of her life.

But this was his choice, and he'd never lied or misled her. This was what he wanted, and she wasn't going to try to pull it away from him.

She loved him too much to do that.

“No, Brittany. I'm not.”

BOOK: Head Over Heels
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