“I will,” he assured her. “But I’m a paranoid kind of guy. I want a guard to stand in front of this door just in case someone wants to go in and take a couple of souvenirs.”
“Maybe we should go somewhere else for lunch,” she whispered to Finn.
“Why’s that?”
“The first time I walked into the cafeteria, about a hundred people glared at me. I’m afraid it might happen again.”
“Glared?” He laughed. “You can handle glares, sweetheart.”
“I’m telling you it was weird. They stopped eating, stared at me, and, well . . . they glared. The entire cafeteria was silent. It was mortifying. If it hadn’t been for Mimi, I would have bolted.”
“If they throw food, I’ll shoot them,” Hutton promised.
“You can hide behind me,” Finn suggested, knowing full well she’d get her back up. Peyton wasn’t the type to hide from anyone or anything.
He was right. Peyton stiffened her spine and said, “That’s not necessary. I’ll walk in first, and you can follow me.”
By the time she reached the entrance to the cafeteria, most of her bluster had evaporated, but she took a deep breath, braced herself, and head held high, walked in. As expected, the room grew silent, and every head turned in her direction. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a woman stand. Peyton was afraid she was going to start walking toward her, but the woman stayed where she was and, putting her hands together, began to clap. She was joined by another woman and then another, and before long, every employee in the room was clapping and cheering. What in God’s name was wrong with them? She turned to Finn, hoping he had the answer, but he just winked at her.
Hutton explained. “They’re clapping for you.”
Tears came into her eyes, and she knew she was blushing. She still didn’t understand why they were cheering for her. Only later, after the clapping and the cheering had died away and she was sitting at a table, did it all make sense. A woman she hadn’t met before stopped by and patted her shoulder. “Thank you,” she said. “You got rid of them for us.”
“From glares to cheers,” Hutton said. “You have to feel good about that. Everyone loves you now.”
She spotted Bridget across the room. “Not everyone,” she said. “Especially not Bridget.”
“Bridget?”
“The woman who wouldn’t stop crying when we tried to talk to her,” Finn explained.
“Oh yeah, the one who wanted to get into Albertson’s office.”
“I’m telling you, there’s something in one of those boxes she wanted to get for Albertson.”
“Because of the signal he gave her?” Peyton asked.
“If it was a signal,” Finn said. He knew he was second-guessing himself. “Ronan always says to go with your gut, and my gut is telling me there’s something here Albertson doesn’t want us to see.”
“It would be nice if Bridget would tell us,” Hutton said, and then laughed. “But that’s not going to happen.”
“She adores Drew,” Peyton said. “She’s kind of obsessive about him. Mimi told me she moved into his neighborhood to be close to him, and she even bought the same car. When he gets a new one, so does she.”
Peyton could eat only half of her turkey and cranberry sandwich. Hutton ate the other half. He grabbed it before Finn could get to it.
Finn was distracted. “The shelves . . . we even removed the photos from the frames . . . nothing there. What am I missing?”
“We have time,” Peyton said. “Let’s go back up and start over again.”
Lane joined them with a tray. “I ran into Bridget in the hall, and since she wasn’t crying a river, I decided to talk to her. She wouldn’t answer any questions, though, unless ‘I don’t know’ qualifies as a response. She’s a very unpleasant woman.”
“Peyton and I are going back up to Albertson’s office. We’ll meet you there.”
They rode up in the elevator alone. Finn pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “I love you,” he whispered.
She got a mischievous look in her eyes. “Have you ever . . . you know . . . in an elevator?”
“There are cameras,” he said. “So, no, I haven’t. Why? Are you up for it?” he asked, laughing. “You’re blushing.”
The lighthearted moment ended when the elevator doors opened. Finn was all business from then on. She once again took a chair and patiently watched him go through all the boxes. He was quick and methodical. Until he picked up the car keys. He held them in his hand and looked at Peyton. A slow grin appeared. “Didn’t you tell me Bridget buys the exact same car? When he trades in, so does she?”
“Yes, that’s what Mimi told me.”
“I might have found what she wanted. How much do you want to bet these are her keys, not his.”
She stood. “Why wouldn’t she say so? Security would have given her the keys if they belonged to her. Why be so secretive?”
“Yeah, why? Let’s go find out.”
The security guard was playing a game on his phone. Finn locked the door behind him and told the guard not to let anyone in. Hutton and Lane were just getting off the elevator, and after Finn told them his theory, they followed him to the garage.
“Should we start on the top level?” Finn asked.
“No, she parks inside,” Peyton remembered. “You could just ask her where her car is.”
“No, I’d rather not.”
“We’re looking for a brand-new Ford Expedition. There are a lot of SUVs here,” Lane said.
Finn walked along, and every few seconds he’d press the alarm button on the remote. He was almost to the end of a long row when an SUV’s lights started flashing. He hit the remote again to stop the noise.
“That’s one big-ass SUV,” Lane said. “And it’s not Albertson’s.”
“Now, why would Drew have Bridget’s car keys in his desk?” Hutton drawled.
The windows were tinted. Finn looked inside but couldn’t see anything.
“Think he drives it sometimes?” Lane asked.
“Maybe,” Finn mused. “Or maybe he just needs to get in it sometimes to get something. What would be in that car that he needs to have access to?”
“You’re thinking rifles?” Hutton asked.
Finn looked through the back window again. “This has a big cargo area. Great place to stash something out of sight. Might even be something in there right now.”
The more he thought about it, the more plausible his theory became. “Albertson and Parsons need to have the guns when they want them, but since they’re in danger of being searched again, they can’t carry them. So, they get someone to transport the guns for them.”
Hutton was beginning to follow the logic. “I’ll bet when they came back from their last fishing trip . . . you know, the one where they stopped in Florida to blow up Peyton’s car—”
Finn finished. “On their way back home, Bridget met them somewhere, and they put the rifles back in her car. Yeah, that works. No wonder they didn’t mind getting searched.”
“Walk me through this,” Lane said. “Peyton leaves Dalton, and Parsons goes after her. He uses a handgun to try to stop her. He supposedly doesn’t own a gun because he’s an ex-con, but there’s one missing from Randolph Swift’s collection, as well as two hunting rifles.”
“That’s right,” Finn said.
“Okay,” Lane continued. “So then when Albertson thinks Peyton is going to sue him, he or Parsons takes another shot at her. This time with a hunting rifle, and the bullet goes through the roof of her car.”
“Yes,” Finn agreed. “Then he just happened to stop by and threaten her.”
“Are you thinking Bridget has been keeping those weapons in her car for them all this time?” Hutton asked.
“Probably not,” Finn said. “But she could keep them in her house, and when Albertson wants them, she puts them in her car. No one would think to search her.”
“This is all a guess,” Hutton warned.
“True,” Finn said. “But these keys were in Albertson’s drawer. I think it might be worth our while to get Bridget down here to talk to us.”
“Finn, she won’t talk to you,” Peyton said.
“Yes, she will.” His voice was hard. “I want to search her car and her house and her garage.”
Lane was on his cell phone. “I’m getting the warrant.”
“In the meantime, Hutton, go get Bridget and bring her here. She’ll give us permission to look inside.”
“How do you know that?” Peyton asked.
“I can be very persuasive.”
She moved closer to him and said, “I don’t understand why Drew and Parsons wouldn’t just hide the guns somewhere. Why use Bridget?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say easy access,” he began. “And the worry that they were being watched. They didn’t want to get caught with the guns in their car. Let Bridget take the fall.”
“Even if you find the guns, they’ll say they aren’t theirs. They belong to Randolph.”
“It won’t matter,” he assured her.
She loved his confidence and couldn’t wait to see how he would get Bridget to agree to anything. She worshipped Drew. She’d made him her idol. But idols had a way of crumbling.
“What do you want me to do about the meeting with the attorneys?” she asked.
“Push it back. They can either wait or reschedule for tomorrow.”
They heard Bridget before they saw her. She was shouting at Hutton, threatening to call the police because he was harassing her.
Peyton was anxious to watch Finn with Bridget. She expected he would use finesse to get her to cooperate, but he used another technique instead. He scared the hell out of her. And it was impressive.
Bridget was full of indignation and talking a mile a minute to cover her nervousness. Hutton had hold of her arm and let go when they reached Finn. She spotted Peyton, and her eyes narrowed. “You—”
“Don’t say a word,” Finn snapped. “Just listen. I want your permission to search your car.”
“No.”
“Okay, then we’ll wait for the warrant, and you’re going to stand here until we get it.”
Hands fisted at her sides, she said, “You don’t scare me.”
“Yeah? I’m going to.”
“What?”
“I know you’ve been helping your buddies, Albertson and Parsons. If I find those guns in your car or your house or anywhere near you, do you know how many years you’ll get? You’re transporting weapons—”
“I’m not. No, I’m not.”
“We will find them, and when we do, you’ll take the fall.” His voice had gotten meaner, and he was getting closer to her. “I’m going to search your car. Do you want me to do it now or wait until the warrant arrives? I don’t really care how long it takes. I’ve got all day and all night and you’re not going anywhere.”
“I don’t have my keys with me,” she stammered.
“How about this set?” he asked and held up the keys from Albertson’s desk.
Bridget’s face turned chalky white. “Those aren’t my keys.”
Finn pushed the alarm button, and Bridget flinched. He pushed it again to stop it. “You wanted in his office to get these keys.”
“I left them there.”
“If you don’t start cooperating, I promise you won’t be going home tonight. Do you hear me? The longer I have to wait, the less likely I’m going to be lenient. In fact, maybe I should just cart you off to a holding cell right now.”
“Wait, please,” Bridget begged. “I want to cooperate. You can search my car, but please understand I was just helping out some friends.”
Finn unlocked the SUV and opened the cargo space, and there they were, both rifles with scopes. He didn’t touch either one. “Where’s the handgun?”
Bridget tried to back away from his anger. “I don’t know—”
“Yes, you do. Where is it?” He didn’t raise his voice, but the venom in his tone frightened her.
“Some friends have it. I promised to keep quiet,” she said.
“Let me tell you what your so-called friends have done to you. You’re the one with stolen weapons in your vehicle, weapons that were used in an attempted murder. It’s all on you, Bridget. You’re the one going down for this. Do you think your friends will step up? Maybe they’ll come see you in prison, though I doubt it.”
“I was only . . .”
Finn took a step back. “Agent Hutton, read her her rights and cuff her.”
As impossible as it was for Peyton to accept, she was actually beginning to feel sorry for Bridget. The woman had started crying and was trying to understand why this was happening to her. “I didn’t think I had done anything wrong,” she wailed.
“Yes, you knew what you were doing, and you knew it was wrong. Cut the b-s. The only way you might get out of a thirty-year sentence,” he said, coming up with a number of years to freak her out even more, “is to give up Albertson and Parsons. You tell us everything you know, and it will go a lot easier for you.”
“It was all Rick Parsons’s and Eileen’s idea. Drew is innocent,” she blurted.
“Stop lying for him.”
“He would never hurt anyone.”
“Not even you?”
“Of course not. He loves me.”
“Will he love you when you’re in prison?” Finn asked. “No, he’ll get on with his life, and you’ll be an old lady when you get out.”
“But he told me he loves me. He wants to marry me just as soon as he owns the company.” Her crying turned into sobs. “I can’t go to prison. Please . . . ,” she begged. “I can’t.”
“Then tell us the truth.”
“You would talk to the judge?” she asked with desperation in her voice.
“Sure,” he said.
“Could I get immunity?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Peyton was surprised Bridget hadn’t asked for an attorney. She thought she would after she’d been given her rights, but she was too rattled by Finn’s threats to think straight.
