A Good Kind of Trouble (A Trouble in Twin Rivers Novel Book 1) (29 page)

"I couldn't have done it without you," Teri said. "Is it official?"

"It is. You'll be able to leave Frank and that city job and do whatever you want. Whatever
we
want."
 

He heard footsteps again, but heavier this time. Stanton was walking now and it sounded like he was heading to the kitchen. Bad news. If he were standing, he could catch a glimpse of two people scuttling past the window. Ben motioned again to Lindsey and she gave him an impatient glare. But then she started crawling again, moving to the now dark shadows at the edge of the house. He let out a sigh of relief.
 

The lovebirds were farther from the window, but Ben could still hear their conversation.
 

"We'll be together soon," Teri said.
 

"How soon?" Stanton asked.
 

"I think within six months," she said. "I don't want to raise any red flags with Frank. It will be less risky if I wait until everything's complete before I file for divorce."
 

"Hmmm," Stanton said and then Ben heard a disturbing sucking sound. For Teri Schulman's sake, he hoped it wasn't the sound of Stanton kissing her. He couldn't think of anything else that would make that sound, though. Slugs mating?
 

"We won't need to wait that long. Bear's buying the last portfolio of buildings this week. We'll have everything we need to start over," Stanton said. "Has Darlington said anything to you about the purchase?"
 

"Hmm, of course," Teri said. "He asked if it would be a conflict for him to be in business with Bear. I told him it would if he was going to be involved with awarding ValCorp the arena contract. But if he waited, then it would probably be fine."
 

"Did he say anything else?"
 

"No. He didn't give me any details," she said. "Once this last block is sold, then Vanda will be completely divested of the properties?"
 

"Completely. And the corporations will be dissolved. And we'll be gone without a trace," he said. "Together. On a warm sunny beach. Just you and me. Forever."
 

Lindsey had slowed again, looking up toward the window frame. Ben followed her gaze and saw the happy couple was standing in front of the window. The light from the dining room illuminated an amber square of grass a few feet from where he and Lindsey crouched, and the clear outline of a curvy woman and her pear-shaped beau was in silhouette in the middle.

A shout of laughter sounded from the beach as a couple of teenagers ran up the shore. Ben held his breath, but the kids didn't spare a glance in the direction of the cabin. If they had, they couldn't have helped but seen two adults crawling in front of the house, one in white pants and the other wearing a light button-down shirt and what used to be a decent pair of pants.
 

The shadows parted, then moved away. Ben let out a slow breath and resumed his slow journey to the other side of the yard, Lindsey following.
 

They moved slowly, quietly, to the edge of the cabin and then walked along the edge of the grassy lawn to where a pebbled path led to the beach. He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him as they started toward the road. Ben glanced back at the waterfront house, his heart still pounding from the close call with Stanton.
 

Stanton had been planning this for a while. He'd guess that his boss' exit strategy was to liquidate everything, cash out, and leave the firm high and dry while he took off with the city attorney to a country with warm weather and weak extradition laws. If so, it would destroy a lot of people's lives. The lawyers at the firm would be tainted by the association with Stanton, of course, and it would be tough to find new jobs. Bear might sue the firm, and if the bad publicity from Stanton's criminal acts weren't enough to shut it down, that would be the death knell of Stanton & Lowe. Which would also put nearly two hundred employees out of work.
 

That included Dave, who had spent fifteen years in the tax department, building up Stanton & Lowe's reputation at the expense of his personal life. And Gordo, who came to the firm right out of law school. Having a notorious law firm as his only legal job was not going to look good on his resume. Ben even felt bad for Sharon, as ill-tempered as she was. Given the economy, he didn't imagine there was a great job market for angry, semi-efficient legal secretaries.
 

Ben gripped Lindsey's hand tight as the trail wound back to Meridian Lane. He'd sacrificed, too. If not for his loyalty to the firm, he'd have thrown himself headfirst into a relationship with Lindsey. He glanced over at the woman who was struggling to keep up with his pace and his heart seized at the sight of her in the moonlight—every time he saw her, he was stunned at her kindness, her intelligence, and her earnestness. She was so...
true.
 

She deserved someone who didn't have to lie to her. Someone she could trust.
 

He stepped onto the paved surface of the road, Lindsey's hand still in his. They walked back to her car in silence, both slowing and peering down the driveway as they passed the cabin. The curtains were drawn now and they couldn't see the encore performance by Stanton and his lover.
 

Thanking all possible deities for that, Ben led Lindsey to the little red hatchback parked half off the road. His Jeep was about fifty yards past the car. Lindsey let go of his hand to get her keys out of her pocket and he missed the contact with her skin instantly. His hand felt cold with the absence of her touch. He reached for the flashlight in his pocket but came up empty. Lindsey fumbled with the lock in the dark, but managed to open the door. They were close, close enough that he could see her expression in the dark shadows of the trees. She licked her lips and he nearly groaned out loud.
 

Get a grip. You're still angry with her
.
 

Then she raised her chin and met his gaze. "I didn't think you were a crook."
 

He wanted to believe her. He wanted to pull her closer and kiss her until they both could barely stand. His body tensed at the thought of her lips on his and he swallowed hard. Despite his anger, he felt the growing desire for more than one night together. He wanted to wake up next to her, watch those green eyes come alive with intelligence. Laugh with her, talk about the stories she was investigating, debate local politics with her, take Steve for long walks together, and at the end of every day, fall asleep holding her again.
 

Lindsey reached up and pulled a leaf from his shirt collar. Her fingers brushed his jaw, which tensed at the light touch. His body was clearly ready to forgive her.
 

But his brain reminded him—not her, not now.
Get your life in order. This is not the time to start a relationship. Especially with someone who doesn't trust you.
 

He needed to quit his job, find a new one. Maybe reassess his entire career.
 

She had her hands clasped in front of her now, looking up at him through thick, dark lashes. He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips. He'd only meant to give her a quick kiss and then say good-bye, but he lingered and her lips parted under his. He pulled her tight to his body and heard her soft moan as their kiss deepened. His heart pounded.
 

It was a cosmic joke that he had never felt this way with anyone but Lindsey—the woman who Maced him, who drove him crazy, who probably was going to cost him his job.
 

He pulled away, his hands on her shoulders to keep her a safe distance from him. She wobbled unsteadily, her swollen lips parted and her eyes wide. He reached past her and opened the car door.
 

"Good night, Lindsey," he said.

She sat behind the wheel, then paused and looked up at him, waiting. His heart skipped a beat as their eyes met. Lindsey’s lips parted as if she might say something, but Ben took a step back before she could. He closed the door and a few seconds later, the hatchback’s engine started.

Ben stood on the side of the dark road, watched the taillights disappear in the darkness, and waited until he could no longer hear her car in the quiet woods.
 

"Good night,” he whispered. “And goodbye."

Chapter Twenty-Three

Ben stepped out of the elevator, nodded to a passing paralegal, and exchanged pleasantries with a partner from the transactional department. It was a typical Monday morning at Stanton & Lowe. He stopped long enough at Sharon's desk to pick up a stack of pink phone messages and inquire about her weekend.
 

As usual, she ignored his attempt at small talk.
 

"The partners want to confirm lunch on Friday," she said. Her eyes remained focused on the computer screen in front of her and her fingers kept tapping at the keyboard. "I need to get back to Mr. Lowe's secretary today."
 

The lunch, at which he would officially be welcomed as a partner. A gnawing sense of dread grew. He wasn't going to be able to avoid that decision forever.
 

"Yes, Friday is fine," Ben said, his mind on the notes in his briefcase—notes about property sales, shell companies, and confidential billing records of the firm's highest profile, yet somehow secret, client.
 

He had tried to reach Dave over the weekend, but his friend had replied to his repeated calls with a terse text message reminding Ben that he and Kathleen were out of town for their anniversary. He was almost relieved that Dave wasn't around. He didn't want to burden Dave with what he knew, but he wasn't sure whom else he could turn to.
 

As he waited for his computer to start up, he pulled the files relating to Bear O'Bannion's transactions from his briefcase. He had plotted out the dates of each of the purchases by the orchid-themed corporations, then the subsequent sales. From what he overheard Stanton say Friday night, it sounded like he was about to unload the last of the properties on an unsuspecting Bear. He could confirm that if he could see what Stanton was billing Bear for, but he didn't have access to those records yet.
 

Even if he was able to double-check his notes with the billing records, then what? Confront Stanton? Admit that he had accessed the billing records, in breach of the firm's policy? Tell his boss that he knew Stanton was cheating Bear O'Bannion, one of Twin Rivers’ wealthiest and most influential residents?
 

None of these options sounded good. He couldn't be a partner at a firm that tolerated this, but as horrible a workplace as Stanton & Lowe was, it wasn't a corrupt institution. If what Stanton did was brought to the partners' attention, they'd do the right thing. Fire Stanton. Pay Bear enough to make it go away quietly. The firm would be in the same position Ben was—there was no way to report Stanton's fraud without revealing confidential client information.
 

That didn't mean Bear wouldn't sue them. But if he did, that would effectively waive the attorney-client confidentiality and then Bear's illegal activities would be exposed. It was a stand-off, and one that Bear would win—just not publicly.
 

He drummed his pencil on his desk. There was only one option. He gathered his papers and organized them in a manila folder, then slipped out of his office and past Sharon's empty desk.

Within the hour, Ben was driving onto the manicured grounds of Donald Lowe’s country club. As a founding partner of the law firm, Lowe took full advantage of his status, spending most of his days on the golf course. If he accidentally stumbled into having to do business, he conducted it at the clubhouse.
 

Lowe walked out to greet him, shaking Ben’s hand and clapping him on the back. The partner had a year-round tan from the long hours on the golf course. His face was the shade and texture of the faux-leather Time-Life books on Ben's grandfather's bookshelves. Lowe's unnaturally auburn hair was carefully combed and coiffed. His turquoise ensemble—polo shirt, white belt, plaid pants—was an assault on the retinas.
 

"I'm heading over to the driving range. Join me." Lowe walked away, his plaid pants leading the way to the range.
 

"I'm sorry to interrupt you," Ben said, taking in the manicured lawns and carefully clipped hedges. "I need to talk to you about the firm. It's rather urgent."
 

Lowe glanced back and smiled, his cheeks creasing so deeply, they looked like they were cracking.
 

Not too soon to start moisturizing.
Ben made a mental note to find out what Lindsey used. Her skin was nice. Really nice.
 

"The partnership agreement," Lowe said with a nod. "Glad to hear you're coming on board."
 

Oh, right. That.
 

"Actually sir, it's about a different matter."

"Oh?" Lowe raised an eyebrow. "Well, go on."
 

They arrived at the empty driving range and Lowe grabbed a waiting bucket of balls. His clubs were already there, and Ben suspected that the club had someone who ferried equipment around, even when the members were off the course.
 

Lowe lined up a shot and sent the ball straight down the middle. He was good, but then he'd better be since this was where he spent all his time.
 

"I need to tell you about something I discovered. It's about Gregory Stanton," Ben said.
 

He walked Lowe through his discovery. That Bear O'Bannion, a client, had received inside information and hired Stanton to set up anonymous corporations that would buy properties around the yet-to-be announced arena site. That Stanton then bought the properties himself, using anonymous corporations. And that Stanton was now selling those buildings to O'Bannion at an obscene markup, without telling O'Bannion that Stanton, his own lawyer, was the seller.