Numbers Never Lie (Crimson Romance) (20 page)

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Authors: Shelley K. Wall

Tags: #Romance, #Romantic Suspense

BOOK: Numbers Never Lie (Crimson Romance)
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“Ms. Henderson.” Trevan spoke softly, trying to keep his emotions invisible. He didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to be doing this, but the evidence seemed overwhelming. And now she tried to cover for it. He had to do his job. “Your father has been out of the picture since you were a small child.”

“Yes and no,
Mr. Prater
.” The sarcasm in her voice was almost syrupy as it dripped off her tongue. “Or should I call you
Agent Prater
?” She didn’t even try to disguise the hatred she was so clearly feeling for him right now. “My father’s name is Randolph James Henderson. The deposits you see there, all but that last one, which appears to go to another account, as I said before, are from a trust fund he established for me when I was three years old.”

The shock couldn’t really be hidden when the words had sunk in. “Randolph Henderson? The real estate tycoon?” he questioned with disbelief.

“Yes, Trevor. Trevan. I mean,
Agent Prater
.” The words just kept getting harsher and harsher as they tumbled out of her mouth. “Is that so hard to believe? That I would be the daughter of a man like that?” She clenched her hands into fists, then released them repeatedly. “Call him, check it out. Or better yet, just get a copy of my birth certificate. I can’t believe you haven’t already done that. I realize you can’t fathom that a man like that would be married to someone like my mother and that I would actually be his daughter. But it’s true.”

Sophie squared her shoulders, her bottom lip was still trembling and Trevan had the distinct impression it was taking every ounce of her composure to keep the tears from flooding. All he could do was watch her.

Dumbfounded. She was the daughter of one of the richest men in the state of New York? No fucking way. How could they have missed something like that? Why didn’t it show up? He didn’t want to admit it but the truth was pretty clear. If it were true — and she seemed adamant that it was — it was too ugly. It was the sort of thing that simmers under the surface, but no one ever lets it bubble through because the truth was too shameful to admit. And it reeked of prejudice. He knew why they had missed it, why they didn’t even bother to check.

She was the daughter of a black woman whose husband had left her with a child. That happened all the time. No one ever questioned it. Hell, he hadn’t even blinked when he saw it. Often, there was no husband at all, just an unknown sperm-donor somewhere from a brief encounter. No one checked on the dad this time because, well, because they didn’t think it would change her story, the dad was not important. They assumed he didn’t want to be important in this child’s life.

Sophie said the words he had already said to himself: “Shame on you. Shame on all of you.” As he looked back at her, his heart sank to his ankles. He could see her father’s eyes staring back at him with disgust and he couldn’t bear to acknowledge how painful it was. Not because they were her father’s eyes. Because he had let
her
down.

“Sophie.” He wasn’t sure what to say as the tension in his voice came through. Nate held up his hand to stop Trev. Had he recognized the emotional turmoil this induced?

“Ms. Henderson,” Nate began, “we’ll be glad to check out your story. But don’t you think it’s a little extreme though to claim one of the richest men in the country as your father? Are you sure you want to do that? What if he doesn’t back you up on it?” The skepticism hung in his voice.

“You wanted the truth. I gave it to you. It doesn’t really matter whether he backs it up or not verbally, but he will. Not to mention my birth records, those bank records, the trust fund that the EFT transactions came from. They all have the name of his company and he himself plastered all over them —
if
you bother to dig deep enough to find out.”

Trev hung his head and muttered, “I didn’t know.
We
didn’t know.” He reached his hand toward her, wanting to reassure himself that she’d forgive him, then stopped. No contact. She didn’t miss the gesture.

She seemed weary as if the tenseness of the emotional war she’d gone through had drained her. “You didn’t bother to check. You just assumed the worst. You assumed I didn’t have a father, or that he was someone unknown and irrelevant, right?” Her glance followed the motion as he retracted the hand that had started to reach for hers. The hand that had been pressed against her back only hours before.

“Yes. I guess that’s true,” he finally admitted.

“And because of that, you stretched even farther and assumed I was a thief?” The tears were puddling again and Sophie lifted her chin in defiance. He observed her summoning the last thread of strength available before she spoke. “Call my dad, and get me out of here, whoever the hell you are.”

Trev pushed himself back from the table and stood as if she’d slapped him. He fisted his hands and plunged them into his pockets as he looked down at the papers in front of her. One of the hands nervously moved from his pocket and up to rub the back of his neck. There was really nothing he could think of to say. Nothing that would take away the fact that he’d treated her in a way he’d promised himself years ago he’d never do to anyone. His own family was a blended family. He knew better than a lot of people what that was like, and how people reacted. The stupidity of it was that they were trained to not make assumptions — not jump to conclusions. And yet, they’d done so without intending it.

Nate’s voice summoned him from the back wall. “Trev?” There was still one transaction that didn’t fit with what she told them — one remaining part that continued to point to her involvement. Trevan’s eyes moved slowly to Nate. He felt Sophie’s weariness, too. He listened as Nate spoke his last concern in Spanish. He wasn’t satisfied with her answers. Sure, she’d explained away most of it, but Nate wasn’t going to let Trev’s emotional involvement overlook any details. Trevan’s shoulders slumped as Nate prodded him to ask about the last transaction.


Intiende Español,
” she said flatly after hearing Nate’s words to Trevan. Trevan wanted to smile. She understood Spanish. Spoke it fluently.


Lo siento
.” Agent Hernandez’s quick apology blurted out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were bilingual. It wasn’t in your file. Can you explain the last transaction, Ms. Henderson? Can you tell us about that one?” He pointed to the bottom of the report in front of her.

She looked down. The final transaction on the list was printed as if it had been pasted into the report from another document. The date, time, amount, account, bank code — everything was listed clearly as they were on the others. “No, I can’t.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?” He raised a brow.

“Can’t. I have no reason to withhold information. But I’m sure if you actually investigated it rather than jumping to conclusions as you did on the others, you’d figure it out.” She’d lost all interest in helping them now. “You seem pretty intent on finding my guilt. Perhaps you should look at it from a different perspective. You know, maybe consider the possibility that I’m
not
the guilty party?”

“That’s a lot of money,” Nate pushed.

Trevan frowned. He returned to the table and sat, pulling the report to him and reviewing the last item just to make sure what he originally saw was true. “Nate, let me ask you something. I’ve told you all along that she didn’t do this, haven’t I? That she didn’t fit the profile?”

“Yeah, but even you make mistakes once in a while, Trev,” Nate responded.

Sophie’s eyes shot up. “Profile? You profiled me? What exactly do I fit? What did you find — how did you classify me? Do I have
easy target
stamped on my back?” Her voice hissed.

He looked at the report again, ignoring her questions as he found his answer — at least where she was concerned. He pushed the paper back at Nate and said without hesitation, “This one wasn’t her, either.”

Nate wasn’t about to give up. “Of course it was — who else would it be?”

“I don’t know, but it’s not Sophie. Let’s step out again for a second.” Trev went through the door and waited on the other side, not a word to Sophie, not even a glance.

Nate followed; he started talking as soon as the door clicked shut. “Look, Trev, I know you don’t want it to pan out like this. I’d like to think she wasn’t involved, too, but the money went into
her
account. What else could have happened?”

“Yes, the money went into her account but I’m telling you she didn’t put it there. It wasn’t her. I know it.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know. Let me ask her a few more questions and you’ll see.”

“Okay, but are you sure you’re thinking straight and not letting your hormones get in the way?”

“If you were anyone else, I’d deck you right now. I’ll pretend you didn’t say that. Just listen and look at the report again.” Trev scowled at him and yanked the door open, leaving Nate to either go back in the room or stand alone in the hall.

Sophie had started folding the pages of the report slowly into paper airplanes as she waited. Trevor thought the act was her way of telling them to take a flying leap off a tall building. When they returned to the room and sat together opposite her, she launched the first airplane into the air, watching it float up then sway down a little to the side, then down again until it landed on the floor on the side of the room.

“Ms. Henderson,” Trevan started soberly. He knew she would figure it out, if she hadn’t already done so. The only thing he couldn’t be sure of was what would happen next. Would she still be angry about everything? “Can you explain the process of sending funds like this electronically to my partner here?”

“Why bother — you know you already have it down. You don’t need me to explain it.” She kept her eyes on the floating airplane as she spoke.

“Not to me, but Nate here needs a little help.” He nodded at his partner. He sat silently, patiently waiting for her to answer.

She shrugged with indifference, not bothering to look his way. “Once the fund transfer file is created and ready to send, the sender connects to the bank via an FTP or encrypted connection. Once the connection is established, they have to enter a code within a few seconds … ” Her voice trailed off as she looked at the report, then her eyes shot up to meet his. She jumped to pick up the paper airplane from the floor. Nate started to rise up and grab her, but Trevan planted an arm firmly on his forearm. A frown and shake of the head encouraged Nate to lower back into his seat.

Sophie slowly unfolded the paper and smoothed it on the floor with her hands as she sat on her knees. She turned and focused her gaze on his eyes as his mouth started to dip up at the corners. Trevan grinned and nodded to confirm what she saw on the report. The data was there — it told the truth.

As Sophie stared at Trevan, a huge sense of relief washed over her face.

“What?” Nate still didn’t get it. “So, if you don’t enter the code in a few seconds, then what?”

Sophie pulled herself back to the present, tore her eyes from Trev, and turned toward Nate. She rose and returned to the table, placing the wrinkled paper in front of him. “The connection is terminated and the fund transfer doesn’t succeed.”

“So, someone has to physically be present to enter the code, right?” Nathan asked.
Ah, finally, the light bulb went on.
Nathan looked at the report and registered the time stamp on the transaction.
1:14
A.M.

Trevan’s next words were rushed. His enthusiasm uncamouflaged. “Sophie was nowhere near a computer at 1:14
A.M.
that day, Nate. She could not possibly have entered the code,” he stated confidently.

“And you know this for sure?”

Trevan waited for her to respond if she wished to do so. She could have blurted it out, let them know why he could vouch so confidently for that timeframe, but she chose not to. She just watched him, cautiously. Why? He assumed she didn’t want anyone to know. Was she concerned for him, or just embarrassed? Did she think he’d deny it?

“Yes, I know this for sure. I was with her at that time.”

Sophie’s eyes narrowed as she studied Trevan’s face.

“You were watching her?”
God, Nate, come on. Does it have to be spelled out?

“Yes, I suppose you could say that.” A mischievous glint flashed across his eyes as he remembered his mouth and hands exploring every inch of her. He returned Sophie’s gaze. She looked away. Did she want him to be silent about this? Did she wish she’d never been there? He couldn’t withhold it because doing so put her back in the suspect’s seat.

“From where?”

“My house.”

“Christ, Trev. What are you saying?” Nathan didn’t need confirmation. If he couldn’t see it in the expression on Trevan’s face or the way that she avoided looking at him, he was an idiot. Trevan shifted his gaze to Nate without answering. His hand was tapping on the table. His voice slowly and softly responded. “I’m telling you there’s no possible way she did that fund transfer. Check my security cameras if you don’t believe me.”

“Security cameras.
You have security cameras there?
” Her eyes blazed as she spat out the words.

“Only on the outside of the house, front, back, and sides.” He watched her face as embarrassment flooded her cheeks now that she knew the full impact of what he’d just said — that someone might have seen them — that someone would definitely see them now. Yes, his whole office was going to see her bare breasts, not just an old fart on the hill with a telescope. But he was pretty sure the old fart had seen it, too. The embarrassment gave way to further anger in no time.

“Damn!” she spat and dropped her head into her hands, clenching her fingers tightly against her scalp.

“Yeah, that’s what I said, too.” He had tried to keep it off the cameras but she hadn’t helped him any. He gave her a reassuring smile, hoping the fact that it proved she was there was more important than her modesty right now, but no such luck. She was pissed. The daggers in her eyes had just turned to spears.

Sophie sat silently. He hoped there was a way to salvage something here. She hated him, he knew that. She probably thought the entire relationship was part of the investigation, and who would blame her for thinking that? His entire entrance into her life had been fabricated for the sole purpose of finding a criminal. The criminal just
wasn’t her.
Still, he had to help her. The document didn’t prove exactly who
did
the fund transfer, but the timestamp and Trevan’s confirmation were sufficient to show that she
didn’t do it.

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