Chapter 4 - MY BEST FRIEND LIED TOO EASILY
Victor walked into Evelyn’s room smiling.
That bothered me more than if he had looked nervous.
“Been looking for you.”
I stood beside the desk.
“Found me.”
His eyes moved around the room.
“You don’t usually come in here.”
“Maybe I should have.”
A tiny pause.
Then the smile returned.
He was forty-two, fit, silver at the temples, expensive without looking flashy.
Victor had the kind of face politicians trusted.
That should have warned me years ago.
“Coffee?” I asked.
“Sure.”
We went downstairs.
June was gone.
At least I hoped she was.
Victor sat at the kitchen island.
I made coffee.
Neither of us mentioned the fact that I had never made him coffee in my life.
“So,” I said. “Payroll.”
His eyes stayed on the mug.
“What about it?”
“You said someone accessed records.”
“Cyber flagged it.”
“Find anything?”
“Probably an old credential.”
“Probably?”
“We’re checking.”
I placed a spoon beside his cup.
“What if I told you I was the one who accessed it?”
Victor looked up.
There.
For half a second.
Fear.
Then it disappeared.
“I’d ask why.”
“One of my employees says she makes six-forty a week.”
“That sounds low.”
“Records show almost fifteen hundred.”
He frowned.
“Which employee?”
“You first.”
“What?”
“Tell me why that happens.”
Victor leaned back.
“Third-party service deductions. Benefits. Placement costs. Payroll taxes. You know how staffing works.”
“No, Victor. Apparently I don’t.”
His jaw tightened.
“Who are we talking about?”
“June Carter.”
Something flickered in his face.
Recognition.
Too fast.
“You know her?”
“I know the staffing account.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
He took a drink.
“Daniel, you have thousands of employees.”
“So do you.”
“Yes.”
“But you recognized her name.”
“Maybe I saw it in an audit.”
“Which audit?”
He smiled.
“You’re interrogating me now?”
“I’m asking questions.”
“Since when?”
“Since I found a hungry woman on my pantry floor.”
The smile vanished.
“You’re getting emotional.”
I laughed once.
“My wife used to say that when men call you emotional, it usually means your emotions are making them uncomfortable.”
His eyes hardened.
“Evelyn had a lot of opinions.”
“Yes, she did.”
Silence.
I let it stretch.
Then I said, “Northstar.”
Victor’s hand stopped moving.
That was all I needed.
“What about it?” he asked.
“You tell me.”
“It’s an administrative vendor.”
“Who owns it?”
“I’d have to check.”
“Check now.”
“Daniel—”
“Your phone is in your hand.”
His gaze locked on mine.
The room changed.
We weren’t two friends anymore.
We were two men measuring distance.
Finally, Victor stood.
“You want my advice?”
“No.”
“Take it anyway. You’re grieving. Still. You barely show up to board meetings. You’ve let people run companies you don’t understand anymore. If you start throwing accusations around because one housekeeper complained about her check, you’re going to create problems you can’t control.”
“One housekeeper.”
“That’s what I said.”
“She has a name.”
He stared at me.
“So now you’re a hero?”
The words landed harder than he intended.
Because he was right about one thing.
I wasn’t a hero.
I had spent years building businesses with men who threatened competitors, bribed officials, buried lawsuits, and made inconvenient problems disappear.
I knew the difference between clean and dirty money.
I just trained myself not to look too closely.
Victor stepped nearer.
“You built this machine, Daniel. Don’t suddenly act shocked because there’s grease on your hands.”
“Did you steal from my employees?”
“No.”
“Did you steal from June?”
“No.”
“Did you know Evelyn was investigating Northstar?”
His face changed.
Not much.
Enough.
I moved closer.
“You knew.”
He whispered, “Be careful.”
“With what?”
“With the stories you tell yourself.”
He walked toward the door.
I called after him.
“Victor.”
He stopped.
“Did my wife know what Northstar was?”
His shoulders stiffened.
Then he turned.
For the first time, I saw hate in his eyes.
Not fear.
Not guilt.
Hate.
“She knew enough to become a problem.”
My body went cold.
“What did you just say?”
Victor smiled again.
“I said she had problems.”
“No. You didn’t.”
He opened the door.
“Get some sleep, Daniel.”
Then he left.
I stood there until his car disappeared down the drive.
My phone rang.
June.
I answered.
“Where are you?”
Her breathing was fast.
“In your garage.”
“What?”
“I didn’t leave.”
“Why?”
“Because I heard him say something.”
I walked quickly toward the mudroom.
“What?”
She whispered, “He made a phone call before he came upstairs.”
“What did he say?”
June’s voice shook.
“He said, ‘She found the file.’”
I stopped.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
May you like
Then she added the part that made every hair on my arms rise.
“And he said, ‘This time, don’t make it look like an accident.’”
