Truth (Scandals of Banner-Hill Book 1) Page 18

  There’s nothing to give it away, which makes sense because otherwise the guys would have noticed being taped.

  A small glint catches my eye in the center of the clock that juts out from the wall. The hook where the two hands meet stands out more than it should. I abandon the computer and drag a chair over. I can feel Nick watching me curiously but I can’t stomach the idea of narrating what I’m doing for him.

  I climb onto the chair and take a closer look at the clock, my mind replaying that night I caught Dash in here. Banner had glanced this way, I’d assumed because he was looking at the time.

  I assumed wrong.

  Dead center in the clock is a small camera lens.

  I drop from the chair and shove it back into its place, hastily ejecting Dash’s tape from the deck under Banner’s desk.

  “That’s how he’s been recording, isn’t it?” Nick asks, eyeing the clock from across the room.

  I offer a tight nod as I rush around the room trying to put everything back exactly the way it was. Whoever checks the tapes is going to be suspicious no matter what I do, but I still need to try to minimize the risks of being caught until after this has been dealt with.

  My hands are clumsy as I start shoving the tapes back into the safe, doing my best to arrange them into the neat stacks they were in before. All the tapes except two. I slip those into my pocket discreetly, careful with my sleight of hand to keep Nick from noticing.

  “What are you doing?” Nick asks, pointing to the safe. “Why are you putting them back?”

  “No one can know we found these, Nick.” Not if we both want to stay alive.

  “What about the police? We can’t just not tell anyone. There’s a dozen tapes here, who knows how many more he might have at home? He can’t just get away with this,” Nick argues.

  “He won’t. But the police won’t do us any good. I don’t have the means to figure out which cops might be dirty and which we can trust. If we go to someone at random, there’s a fifty-fifty chance this gets buried.”

  He grunts out a sound of tacit agreement.

  I start to shut the safe but hesitate. Poking around a bit on the left side, I find a control panel and press the button with the backward arrow.

  “Now what are you doing?” he asks.

  “Setting this thing to record over the footage of us at the desk. We were never here.” It’s the only shot we have of staying alive.

  15

  Siobhan chatters in my ear, completely oblivious to the fact I’ve been tuning her out for almost the entirety of her rant about some issue she’s having with a supplier. I don’t exactly have the moral high ground, but I’m also not super interested in hearing about her efforts to keep the wealthy masses on the rehab carousel.

  “Why are you making that face?”

  It takes me a second to realize she actually asked me the question. I glance at her and see her frowning at me.

  “What face?”

  “That judgey face you make when we talk about my business. Usually you only make that face when you’re actually listening to me.” She smirks as I dip my head guiltily.

  “Sorry,” I tell her. “I’m distracted.”

  “Obviously. Have they been bothering you again?” She looks over at the cafeteria table that has my attention. Killian and Logan are both sitting there. Lucky us. They look up at the exact moment Siobhan stares over at them.

  Logan looks away, but Killian tries to make eye contact with me. I look at Siobhan instead.

  “I’m not looking at them. I’m looking at Jack. I need to figure him out—starting with why he’s suddenly trying to buddy up to those assholes.” As far as I can tell, the three have never interacted until today.

  “Hmm. They don’t look thrilled having him there,” she points out. I noticed that too. They barely look like they’re tolerating him. Any minute now, Logan’s likely to take a swing at him. I can see it in his body language.

  For reasons I can’t understand, I stand up and find myself heading to intervene before it reaches that point. Siobhan calls out confusedly after me, but I keep walking.

  “Jack,” I accidentally snap his name, calling him to me like an errant boy.

  Logan whips his head around to glare at me. Whether it’s for interrupting or just talking to Jack in general, who knows? After last night, I really don’t give a fuck how he feels. Let him be mad. His anger has nothing on mine.

  Jack knocks his open water bottle over in his attempt to get to his feet quickly. Killian has to reach over and set it upright before the whole thing empties on the table. I would really like to know how Murphy chose this guy to be his eyes and ears. He’s a bumbling freaking idiot.

  “Let’s talk,” I tell him, nodding my head toward the door because I’m hyper aware of all the eyes on us right now.

  Jack smirks at the guys as he moves closer. The gesture makes my eyes roll. I leave a solid three feet between us as we walk out into the hall together.

  “Stop staring at my ass, Lunsford,” I tell him as he tries to drop back and walk a few steps behind me.

  He huffs. “I wasn’t,” he denies, but the lie is evident in the way his voice raises an octave.

  I keep leading until we’re far enough down the hall to avoid the curious stares of people trying too hard to eavesdrop. As far as I can tell, none of these other people have any connection to Murphy. I’d like to keep it that way.

  “When’s the last time you spoke to Murphy?” I ask him point-blank.

  He shifts uncomfortably, crossing his arms over the kind of a chest a guy only gets with black market help. I grew up around Dash and Logan’s football friends. I’ve seen steroids at work. If I had to guess, I’d say that’s probably where his connection to Murphy comes from.

  I don’t know exactly what Murphy is into, but it seems like a safe bet that if my father has drug connections coming out the ass, then Murphy probably does too. Fuck knows I can barely remember the last time I saw my father spend an entire day sober.

  “Great talk.” I roll my eyes and start to walk away—slowly, since I know he’s going to stop me in three… two…

  “Where are you going?” he asks.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you have something to say to me after all?” I turn back, tilt my head, and pin him with my best unamused stare.

  He swallows hard. I know he doesn’t want to tell me when or how much he’s talking to Murphy. If he were a smarter, more restrained man, then he would just let me walk away. Instead, I can see him still mentally calculating how to get into my pants.

  “Truth or dare?” he blurts the question out.

  I pause, fully aware I could use this game to my advantage. I turn slowly, and he smirks thinking he’s hooked me. He has no idea I’m about to outmaneuver him.

  “Truth,” I tell him.

  “Did you spend the night with someone last night?” He blurts the question out, giving himself away. Not only does Jack somehow know I didn’t stay in my own room—and apparently nothing more than that—but he sounds desperate for an answer. He’s already told Murphy, I’d bet everything on that. And now he needs to take Murphy an answer or risk my uncle’s ire, I’m sure.

  “Nope,” I answer honestly.

  Jack searches my face. If he thinks he’s going to get anymore out of me than that, he’s sorely mistaken. I answered the question, and I did it honestly. If he were smarter, he would have asked where I stayed last night.

  “Truth or dare?” I return the question. I school my face to seem bored and not fully invested. I’m operating on an assumption that he won’t risk choosing truth.

  “Dare.” He grins lecherously at me.

  “I dare you to let me use your cell phone to call Murphy.”

  His face falls as he realizes I’ve outplayed him. Not only have I forced him to show his hand, but I’ve also reminded him about my uncle’s influence. If he thought about refusing me as a means of getting in my pants, that plan is ruined the second I remind him of why he’s here.


  “How do you know I have a phone?” he mutters like a pouty child.

  “Well I assume you’re not contacting my uncle by carrier pigeon.” I bat my eyelashes with a sarcastic smirk.

  Jack’s face contorts into something unpleasant. “Your uncle?”

  Well, hell. I didn’t realize he didn’t know the familial connection. How had Murphy explained his interest in me then? Based on the face Jack just made, I probably don’t want to know.

  Jack hands over his phone. Then I raise my eyebrows in question as he stands there staring at me instead of making himself scarce.

  “I’m not leaving you alone in my room,” he protests. I swear this is the whiniest man I’ve ever had to deal with.

  “What, do you think I want to steal your designer jeans? They’re not really my style.” And I know there’s nothing in here left worth snooping over because Jack blatantly showed me his hiding spot when he reached under the nightstand and came away with the phone. If he wanted to hide anything else, he could have been much more discreet about his preferred hiding spot.

  “You dared me to let you use my phone. Leaving the room wasn’t part of the deal.” His eyes dart from me to the phone, betraying how nervous he is about whatever is about to go down when I call Murphy. “Anything you say to him is going to get passed along to me anyway. I’m Murphy’s right-hand man.”

  I barely manage to conceal an amused snort.

  Jack Lunsford is not my uncle’s right-hand man. It’s honestly hilarious that he thinks he could be. I’m pretty sure Jack would piss himself if he knew how desperately Murphy wants me working by his side.

  Jack seems to be under the impression I’m just a shiny toy to keep an eye on.

  Wrong on all counts.

  “Pain in my ass,” I mutter under my breath.

  “Huh?”

  I force a tight smile. “Nothing.”

  Jack hands over the small black phone, an obvious burner. He tries to let his hand linger, but I snatch mine back to avoid making any kind of physical contact with him. I don’t know how to make it any more obvious that the bedroom eyes he keeps trying to flash me aren’t having any effect.

  I touch the contacts button on the key panel. I’m not surprised to see there’s only one contact saved to the phone, listed under the number 1. It’s smart. I’m sure Murphy is using a burner phone of his own. There’s nothing traceable in the event Jack decides to betray him or does something stupid and gets himself caught.

  “Murphy is busy,” a brusque voice answers. My uncle’s gotten himself a secretary. Cute.

  “Oh, I think he can un-busy himself for me.” This might be my only crack at a phone for a while, so I have to get ahold of my uncle now. Jack knows now that I have no way of getting ahold of Murph myself.

  There’s a long silence on the phone and then some ambiguous shuffling.

  “Natalie?” The way Murphy says my name makes my skin crawl.

  Ignoring the urge to hang up on him, I tell him what I came for. “I have something.”

  “Yeah?” The phone goes quiet for another minute until a door slams shut. “Is the Lunsford kid around?” I can hear the annoyance in Murphy’s voice, confirming that Jack’s not as popular with the boss as he thinks.

  “Standing right here. You want to talk to him?” I joke.

  “Like hell. Tell him to get lost.”

  I repeat the sentiment to Jack. His face reddens but he doesn’t argue. Finally he leaves the room like I requested in the first place, and I shut the bedroom door to put another layer of wood between my call and Jack’s inability to mind his own business.

  “I thought my ultimatum was clear, Murphy. I’ll never see us as a team as long as you feel the need to have other people watching over me. I don’t appreciate the blatant lie about taking your guys out.” I keep my voice quiet enough that it won’t carry to the hall.

  “I’ll remove him,” Murphy says easily.

  “And put someone else here in his place? Don’t bother. Instead, put those manipulative skills to work and make sure there are no more changes while I’m here. No new patients. No new staff.” I’d rather deal with one spy that I know about than have to look over my shoulders every time there’s a new face.

  “Sure,” Murphy agrees.

  But I’ve learned how to get a better read on him. There’s a slight hitch in his voice when something bothers him. I know he can’t possibly be mad about my request considering he knows my stance on his little babysitters.

  If I had to guess, I’d say the issue is that he doesn’t actually have that kind of pull at Banner-Hill. Getting someone with the right pedigree and bank account in is easy. Keeping those people out is a whole different beast.

  I’m starting to see the limits of Murphy’s power. He’s not as all-powerful as he’d like me to believe.

  “Now for the reason I really called,” I start.

  “You missed me?” he teases.

  I roll my eyes. And then because he can’t see me, I roll them again for good measure.

  Murphy’s voice turns serious, playtime over. “What do you got?”

  “That’s the thing, I’m not entirely sure. I can’t put all the pieces together without my father actually here. I need to be able to tip his hand so he gives himself away.”

  Murphy makes a grunt of displeasure. I know he’s about to refuse me. Despite his lecture about building trust, he has no intention of giving me any. He made that clear the second he lied about leaving his guys here.

  I speak up before he can deny me.

  “You don’t have to like it, Murphy. You just have to remember we’re playing the same side. And I’m telling you—I can’t get what I need without my father physically showing up. All you have to do is give up whatever ruse is keeping him away right now. I’ve got plenty of rope to let him hang himself with after that.”

  “Where’d you stay last night?”

  Of course he wants to talk about that. As much as I want to tell him to mind his own damn business, I know giving him something is the only way to make him amenable to negotiating.

  “Do you remember Dash?” They met once when we first started dating. Just briefly when Murphy stopped by to see my mother about some paperwork after my grandmother died.

  “The dead boyfriend? Who could forget?” The humor in his voice makes my jaw tighten. My fingers clench the phone so tightly I have to make an effort to relax them before I crack the cheap device down the middle.

  “I stayed in Dash’s room.” And because I know he’s going to ask, I add, “Alone.”

  There’s a long, awkward pause. I’m sure he’s turning over every bit of info Jack has given him to try to decide if there are any signs that I’ve had a mental breakdown in here.

  “I told you I would do anything it took to bring my father down, Murphy. I’m not thrilled about some of the shit that’s happened in here, but it’s all a means to an end. I don’t want to leave here without getting what I came for.” I’ve given up too much—and learned too much—to go home with my tail tucked between my legs.

  “Alright.” Murphy sighs. “I’ll make some calls. Once I do, he’s probably coming straight for you. I’m sure he’s suspicious about the timing of all of this.”

  “Duly noted.” And not at all unexpected.

  “Now, tell me what it is you’ve got, Natalie. How big is it?” He’s practically salivating for details. Well, if he wanted me to trust him with information, he shouldn’t have been so desperate to keep tabs on me. He hasn’t ingratiated himself to me in the slightest.

  One thing you learn from being an infamously bratty teenage reality star? There’s power in hanging up.

  I set the phone down on the dresser, ignoring it as it buzzes with an incoming call. Let Jack pick it up if he’s so inclined. After all, the two of them are the best of pals.

  Jack’s waiting just outside the door when I open it. I don’t bother acknowledging him as I elbow past and move down the hall toward the cafeteria. I
need to catch up with Siobhan and Sadie. As much as I’d love to go it alone, I’ve got a plan that’s going to need a little… special help.

  16

  Nick and I are embattled in a silent staring contest when the door handle turns. It doesn’t actually open since the door is locked, but the sound rattles both of us. His eyebrows raise in a silent question, and I nod.

  He turns the lock and opens the door a crack to peer out.

  Siobhan shoves her way past him, her face flooding with relief when she sees me. The relief quickly gives way to annoyance as she curls her fists and punches me in the arm. Not in a friendly way, either. She really hits me.

  “Ow.” I jerk away.

  “Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?” She holds up the slip of paper I left for her. In my loopy handwriting is a note that says 911 Yoga. “I thought this guy had kidnapped you or something. I’ve been casing this place like a freak trying to decipher if you left any other clues!”

  She’s so distraught I almost feel bad for laughing. I manage to minimize it to a single snort of laughter before snapping my mouth closed.

  “As you can see, not kidnapped. Though I would like to point out that technically taking an adult woman would be an abduction, not a kidnapping.” Nick’s expression doesn’t change at all.

  Siobhan narrows her eyes at him. “Semantics. Though at your age, I would think you’d still consider whatever this is to be robbing the cradle. Just because she’s not jailbait doesn’t make it okay.”

  “Down girl,” I tell her drily.

  She answers me with a dirty look, but she at least stops raving like a lunatic. I’ve been doing a pretty good job of ignoring my attraction to Nick while we’re in the middle of dealing with this very big issue. There will always be time to jump his bones later.

  Which, for the record, I haven’t necessarily ruled out. There’s something hot about an older man with a better six pack than most underwear models.

  I shake my head slightly to clear those thoughts away. “We’ve been working on something together, Siobhan. Now I need your help, but it’s a big ask.” Possibly too big. Nick and I have been arguing for more than an hour about whether this is the right move.