How to Kill Your Boss (26 page)

“Please don’t do this, please. I’m sorry. I’m sorry my dad hurt you. I didn’t know he’d do that. I didn’t mean to—”

“Dad?” he interrupted. “You are dumber than you look.”

“Jay. I’m sorry. He was overprotective. If I’d known he would hurt you, I wouldn’t have told—”

Jay silenced me with a slap across my face. “Pull your shit together. I hate seeing a woman cry.” He wiped something wet from the corner of my mouth. “What’s this babble about your dad?” He cocked his head to the side. “He had nothing to do with this.”

“He broke your arm.” I lowered my gaze to the floor.

“No, Tatum. Not your dad, you stupid bitch. The ghost. The fucking ghost. He wouldn’t leave me alone.”

What? Not my dad? Okay. I was seriously at a loss. “It wasn’t my dad?” I asked, biting back tears. “Who beat you?”

“I did.” Franklin came from behind me faster than his two words registered in my ears. His fists hit Jay’s face at least five times before I realized it was him. Blood sprayed, then Jay was on the floor, face down with a gun pressed to his temple. “I warned you then, you touch her again, I’ll kill you. There was no statute of limitations on my promise.”

A nervous laugh rose from the floor. “Ever wonder why you didn’t have a date to the prom, Tatum? Ever wonder why you never got asked on more than one date?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Franklin warned.

“Reed. Put the gun down. You can’t shoot the guy for being a dick-wad.” I jumped at the deep voice. Leland came from behind, tucked his pistol into his holster and knelt to untie me. “Tatum. I see you’re staying out of trouble as usual.” He freed my arms and offered a hand to help me up.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, paralyzed by the sight of Franklin Reed in full
I’m gonna fuck you up
mode.

“What’s he talking about, Franklin?”

Jay laughed again. “You were a damn urban legend at school. Nobody survived a date with Tatum Wood. We had bets going to see who’d get a second date. I was convinced he was a figment of my imagination until I saw the two of you together. The ghost. Nobody but me ever saw his face.” Jay spat blood on the floor. “But he was there, and if a guy worked up the courage to ask you out? Well—”

Franklin pressed his face closer to Jay. “Another word, I dare you.”

A freight train full of memories barreled straight at me. Days wasted sitting by the phone, waiting for a guy to call. Crying into my pillow at night, wondering why the boys avoided me at school. Convincing myself that Prom and Homecoming were no big deal. Rocky Road ice cream. Gallons and gallons of ice cream. “Was it you? All this time? All those years, it was you?”

He dropped his head between his shoulders, then cocked his chin to meet my glare. “I couldn’t let those fucking perverts near you. I swore to Tony I’d protect you, and I did.”

“Goddamn you, Franklin! Goddamn you!” I didn’t know what else to say. “This is so twisted and sick, and…and…wrong. Shit. All this time?”

Face stoic, he nodded.

“I’m done.” I was. I’d been bursting at the seams with crazy and that last bit of information snipped the final string of sanity holding me together. I pointed a finger in his face. “Don’t follow me. Don’t call me. Leave me the hell alone.” I turned, pushed Leland out of my way, and strode through the door.

Leland called behind me. “Wait. Don’t go in there—shit.”

I walked into a kitchen and tripped over a pretty pair of shoes, decorating a set of long lean legs, attached to a lifeless body. I caught my balance only to slip on the obscene amount of blood oozing from Dahlia’s half-smashed head.

The room spun in a nauseating whirl of color just before everything turned black.

I swallowed the handful of pain relievers Mom laid out for me, pressed the ice pack to my head and leaned back.

“Are you sure you don’t want to lie down, honey?” Mom whispered, tucking the afghan around my legs.

“Mom, you don’t need to whisper. I just hit my head.”

“You knocked yourself unconscious and got five stitches,” she scolded with the motherly tone of disapproval she’d perfected years ago.

I rolled my eyes. “Technically, I fainted first.”

She sat next to me and cupped my free hand in her own. “Sweetie, I’m so sorry I can’t stay longer. Your grandfather needs me and I can’t find anyone else to watch him.”

I turned my head toward her in super slow motion. Not sure why my neck was so stiff. I guess slipping in a pool of blood and cracking your head open can do crazy things to a body. “Mom, it’s okay. I’ll be all right.” Physically anyway. Emotionally? Well, that was a soap opera I wasn’t ready to tune into.

“I know, I know. When will your friend be here?”

“Anytime now. She’s going to stay the night.”

Mom swallowed hard. Her eyes glistened with welling emotion. “Good. That’s good.”

“Mom, I promise. I’ll be fine,” I reassured her.

The doorbell rang and Leland let himself in. His gaze fell immediately on Mom, and he looked twenty years younger every time they shared the same space. He nodded. “Afternoon, Ms. Wood.”

Mom offered a shy smile.

He turned to me. “Tatum. How you feeling?”

“Peachy,” I grumbled. I don’t know why I acted like a moody teenager around that man.

“Can I have a word before we go?” he asked.

“Of course.” I handed the ice pack to Mom and she got up to take it to the kitchen.

Leland parked it on the opposite end of the couch, taking care not to jostle me. “Masters confessed to helping Dahlia. Claims he had nothing to do with the murder but did help to set you up.” He smirked. “Of course, this happened after I was forced to leave Franklin alone with him for a significant period of time.” He paused, shook his head, then continued. “The two met at a charity event after her divorce and hit it off. She’d been obsessed with taking Cruse Investigations down. Masters offered to help. When he discovered you and Franklin worked there it was like winning the payback lottery. He put his own plan into action. They paid off one of your tech guys to manipulate the video feeds and hack the email accounts.”

“John?” I asked.

“Yes. John Staples. We arrested him this morning.”

“Dahlia came to the office asking for Nan the other day. She tripped into me and her rings caught in my hair. I have a bald spot where she yanked her hand free.” I ran my fingers across the back of my head. Brilliant. “That explains the hair, but what about the roses?”

“Sick bastard did that for show. Wanted to scare you, and drive Franklin crazy. Thought he’d punish Reed by going after you.” Leland huffed and shook his head. “They’d been planning for quite some time. Needless to say, Jay Masters won’t be able to buy his way out of these charges. Murder, kidnapping, and the list keeps growing.”

“So, I’m off the hook?” I asked with an unnatural squeak.

With a wide grin, Leland patted my thigh and stood. “Yes, Miss Wood. I think we can safely say, you’re off the hook.”

I shot him a playful wink. “I’m going to miss your handsome mug, Detective Waters.”

“Stay out of trouble, will you?” He winked back then turned to my mother. “Shall we head out, Anna?”

Mom blushed and nodded. Leland grabbed her suitcase and stood in the doorway. “I’ll meet you downstairs.” He flashed a sweet, mushy, tender smile her way, then looked at me. “Get some rest, Tatum.”

When he was out of sight, I couldn’t help but tease. “Nice of him to offer you a ride to the airport, huh?” I would’ve wiggled my eyebrows at her if my head didn’t hurt so bad.

She smiled her
none of your business
smile and bent to kiss me.

“Have a safe flight.” I grabbed her hand and squeezed.

“I’ll call when I get home. Love you, Tatum.” Mom shot me a wink, blew a kiss, and slipped out the door.

I heard Lizzie’s voice and then a faint knock.

“Come in.”

“Tate. Holy shit. Your mom is a bombshell. I see where you get your looks.”

“Hey,” I squeaked, fighting back an embarrassing surge of female emotion. I hadn’t asked Lizzie to come stay with me. She’d called, out of the blue, and offered her friendship services. I wasn’t dense. I knew Franklin put her up to it. Heck, he had probably bribed her with an obscene amount of money, or had held a gun to her head while she dialed my number. Most likely, he made her wear a wire so he could spy on our conversation. I hadn’t spoken to him since the whole kidnapping incident. Lizzie had, and knowing she had, made my bones ache. I fought the urge to drill her about his mental and emotional state. She was here to help, and it was a comfort knowing I wouldn’t be alone to wallow in my misery.

After a gentle hug, she plopped on the couch next to me. “You look like you’ve been butt-fucked by the grim reaper.”

I laughed, then winced. Ouch.

“Would it make you feel better to know your dip-shit boyfriend looks ten times worse? God, I’m so happy he didn’t fall victim to my charms. Life with him sucks hairy balls.”

“Stop making me laugh,” I warned, trying not to crack up.

“What shall we do with ourselves?” she asked, looking around the room. “This is quite a spread. You rich or something?”

“Sure am. Just got richer, too. My lawyer says Wallace Cruse had millions stashed in different accounts. Still not sure why he left it to me, but whatever. I might need it. If word gets out about Wallace’s scam, there’s going to be a butt load of lawsuits coming our way.” I couldn’t give Lizzie every detail of what happened, but I did hit the main points.

“That sucks. I’m glad I’m not rich. What’s going on with you and Mr. Reed? Why is he at the bar with Miss Leather Mini and not here taking care of you? Do I need to rough him up a bit?” Her eyes glowed with spirited curiosity.

A possessive fire burned in my belly. “Miss Leather Mini?”

“Yeah, the woman you mistook for a whore. They’ve spent the last two days sitting in your booth drinking themselves stupid.” She seemed a little too thrilled to be dumping this information in my wounded lap.

An invisible ice pick jabbed at my heart. “I told him I never wanted to see him again.” Why did it hurt? “Why do I want to kill her?” I asked, already knowing the answer. Damn, Lizzie. She knew exactly which buttons in my stupid, stubborn head to push.

“I don’t think there’s any reason to be jealous. The bitch made a pass at me more than once. Franklin finally made her stop.” She laughed, then sucked her lips between her teeth when she noticed I wasn’t laughing with her. “Talk to me, baby.”

“That’s the problem. I can’t.” I couldn’t talk to anyone because of his job. “The only thing I can tell you is that he’s not the man I thought he was.”

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Did he hurt you?”

He mortally wounded my heart and soul. “Yes. I mean, no. Not exactly, I guess.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know him. Not the real him.” He’d lied to me. His stalking skills put Jay Masters to shame. He’d admitted to being obsessed with me since we were children.

“So get to know him. You’ve fucked already, and by the look on both of your faces when you’re together, the fucking is pretty fucking amazing.”

Oh jeez. Brash much? “It’s complicated.”

“Only if you let it be,” she quickly retorted.

“You’re starting to piss me off.”

“Because I’m right. Right? Don’t be an idiot. Whatever it is you’re mad about, get over it. Men like Franklin Reed don’t come around very often. The guy worships you. He’d kill for you. What woman doesn’t want to be wanted like that by someone like him, huh?”

“I think I just need a few days. To process.”

“Don’t wait too long. You’ll kick yourself for letting someone like him slip through your fingers.”

God, she had no idea. I couldn’t enlighten her, either. I couldn’t tell anyone. This was my cross to bear. Alone.

Stalker. Assassin. Sexpot. He’d been a major player in my life story, a character I didn’t know existed, lurking in the shadows. My protector. Not Dad, the man who’d become a mystery to me. The whole time, it was Franklin.

Franklin was my hero.

* * * *

Bonnie Tyler’s “Total Eclipse of the Heart” played on a continuous loop in my head. I finally pulled out my iPod and played it for real. It used to be Mom’s favorite song, and when I was growing up, I’d heard it at least once a day, either blaring from the stereo or from her lips. I finally understood why she’d loved it so much.

I made sure Lizzie was squared away in her room and tucked myself in bed after one too many glasses of wine. I downed an ibuprofen-acetaminophen cocktail and dug out my new favorite sleeping garment: Franklin’s Pearl Jam T-shirt. He wasn’t getting the shirt back. Ever. It was mine. I’d earned it.

I turned the volume to ear splitting level and found a comfy spot on my pillow. My head throbbed and my heart hurt. Every word, mixed with the soulful, husky edge of her voice, wounded me. My muscles ached deeper than I’d ever thought possible. Was it the wine? Maybe. I sang along, pushing through the lump in my throat, wiping away tears with the corner of my pillowcase.

Sometimes, a girl just needed to find a sappy song and sing and wallow. Things would be better in the morning. A good hard cry did wonders for the female psyche.

When I’d regained consciousness on the floor next to Dahlia’s dead body, I lost my shit. Franklin had knelt by my side, holding a bloody towel to my head. Like a maniac, I’d screamed for him to get away. To stop touching me. “I hate you! I hate you!” I don’t know how many times I’d said those words before I’d pushed him off and bolted out the door. I couldn’t bear to look him in the face. Leland had caught me before I stumbled down a set of stairs and forced me to sit until one of his officers could drive me to the hospital. Franklin hadn’t come after me. Nor had he come to the hospital, or the police station when I’d given my statement. He hadn’t called. He’d stayed away, like I’d told him to.

I no longer fit in my bed. Without Franklin, I was a flea lost in a giant pile of Egyptian cotton. Lost forever in the vast loneliness surrounding me. I turned the music up louder, cried, and sang.

I woke the next morning feeling like I’d swallowed a chalkboard eraser. A glass of water sparkled under the early morning sun on my nightstand. My iPod and headphones lay on the pillow next to me. It’d been turned off. I assumed Lizzie had checked on me. That was until I noticed a crumpled suit jacket at the foot of my bed.