Soliman, Wendy - The Name of the Game (BookStrand Publishing Romance) (25 page)

Matt called the meeting to order, and Ashley strived to concentrate. A lot of horse trading and jockeying for position was about to take place, and she owed it to her employees to fight their corner. Every so often, her gaze fell on Charlie, mainly because she could sense him watching her. He looked so complacently smug that she wanted to throttle him. There had to be a way that she could undermine his sabotage without him knowing.

She drummed a pen on the pad in front of her as Peter Templeton droned on about the need for ruthlessness. Easy for him to say. His position was secure, no matter what happened. She tuned out and returned her thoughts to Charlie. What were his weaknesses? Where would be the best point of attack? How was he keeping in touch with the people doing the dirty work for him? One thing Ashley knew for certain, he wouldn’t be soiling his own hands.

Then it came to her, just as Matt called upon Interactive’s systems manager to give his report. Subconscious transference of ideas, she supposed. A noise must have escaped her lips because Matt turned toward her.

“Did you want to say something, Ashley?”

“Oh no, sorry. Something just occurred to me that I need to add to my report, that’s all.”

Several people flashed quizzical looks her way. She hadn’t performed to her usual standard thus far, and she clearly wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. She dropped her head and scribbled non-meaningful notes on her pad to avoid their scrutiny, berating herself because Charlie’s weakness hadn’t occurred to her earlier. He was pretty good at most things he did but—unusually for this day and age—was virtually computer illiterate. He could just about cope with e-mail, but she’d once heard him say how much he distrusted that means of communication because anyone who knew what they were doing could find a way to hack into it. So, if Charlie was keeping a record of his shenanigans, it would be committed to paper somewhere. Somewhere he considered safe. The most obvious place would be in his home. If that was where it was, then Ashley was stymied because she had no chance of getting to it there. But he did keep a drawer in his office permanently locked and the keys continuously about his person. She knew because she’d seen him open it once or twice and she’d heard his secretary jokingly say that he must keep the secret details of his love life locked away in there.

“Ashley,” Matt said, “it’s your turn.”

As Ashley stood up to make her presentation, she’d already reached a decision. Whilst the directors were having lunch today—a lunch from which lesser mortals such as herself were excluded—she’d wait for his secretary to go to lunch, let herself into Charlie’s office and somehow get into that drawer.

The only problem was that she’d be expected to help entertain Stella and the rest of the Stevenson’s bunch not included in the directors circle to lunch in a private room off the staff restaurant. How could she get out of that? Now that she’d decided to make this move against Charlie, she couldn’t afford to wait. He wasn’t often out of the office at the same time as Gloria, and Ashley didn’t have the luxury of time on her side.

“Are you all right, Ashley?” Stella asked during a break in proceedings. “You look a bit flushed.”

“Time of the month,” she said, grimacing. “Plus, I just came from a doctor’s appointment.” Well, that was true enough, anyway. “That’s why I was late.”

“Oh, nothing serious, I hope.”

“No, but if you don’t think I’m rude, I’m not sure I can face lunch in any form today.”

“Don’t worry about it. I really ought to get back to the office, anyway. I have a ton of stuff to catch up with.”

“Thanks. We’ll get together next week, if you like, just the two of us and thrash a few things out.”

“We’ll probably achieve a sight more on our own than this lot did today,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“No arguments there.”

She shook hands with Stella and slipped away as soon as the meeting broke up. Matt tried to catch her eye, but she pretended not to see him. She’d been acting strangely, which would worry him, and he’d also want to know how she got on with the doctor. She didn’t have time to tell him. Nor did she want him to know what she planned to do with Charlie’s desk, just in case he tried to talk her out of it.

She shut herself in the ladies room until the sound of voices and footsteps receded. Then, checking that she had what she needed, she made her move. It was a piece of luck that Jeff, an ex-policeman, kept his horse at the same yard as Ashley kept Lucius. They’d both arrived one day without their keys to the tack room. Untypically, no one else was about, so Ashley was on the point of returning home to get hers when Jeff asked if she had a hairpin. She handed one over, and like it was no big deal, he showed her how to pick the lock. She joked with him about there being a thin line between breaking the law and law enforcement. Still, it was a lesson well learned—one she’d had occasion to put into practice a couple of times since.

She returned to her desk, decanted her papers, and glanced next door. It was past one o’clock, Gloria’s desk was empty, and hardly anyone else was left in the main open plan office. Before she could think better of it, Ashley let herself into Charlie’s office, closed the door behind her, and took a deep breath. The credenza with the drawer that interested her was on wheels, situated behind Charlie’s large desk. She sat in his chair and leaned over the lock, carefully inserting the pin. Her hands shook so badly that she almost dropped it. She’d never opened a lock that she wasn’t legitimately entitled to before, and her forced initiation into the world of crime didn’t exactly fill her with joy. Even so, she persevered and was rewarded when the tumblers fell into place and the locked clicked open.

She pulled the drawer out, wondering what she expected to find. A smoking gun in the form of a list of all the people involved would be handy, but she wasn’t holding her breath. Just as well because all she found was a neatly organized set of files. Charlie’s personal bank records, reports on his senior staff, some stuff to do with his divorce and remarriage. And a thick file on Matt that immediately piqued her interest. She picked it up and flicked through it, excitement causing her to hyperventilate because she was pretty sure that she was on to something.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Ashley’s bottom left the chair as she literally jumped with fright. The file fell from her hands, papers scattering in all directions as she slowly turned her head.

“Charlie, I was just—”

“Yes.” He closed the door behind him, leaned against it, his face like thunder. “What were you just?”

There was no way Ashley could defend her actions, so she switched to the offensive. She retrieved the scattered papers, which gave her a moment to gather her thoughts, straightened up and place them on his desk. They she stood and confronted him.

“I’m trying to see how you do it,” she said, meeting his gaze and holding it.

“Do what?”

“Fix the death claims.”

He looked genuinely confused. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“The three fraudulent death claims that are likely to go to the ombudsman.”

“Matt’s got that covered.”

Ashley quirked a brow. “Of course he has.”

Charlie moved further into the room, standing mere inches from her.

“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

For the second time in one day, Ashley’s body language interpretation skills were called into play. Charlie did seem genuinely bewildered. Could she and Matt have got it wrong? No, of course not! Who else but Charlie would want to sabotage Interactive’s position?

“Those claims aren’t bogus, Charlie, as well you know.”

“Actually,” he said calmly, “I don’t. Claims have nothing to do with me. Our claims people followed their usual procedures and found non-disclosure, that’s all I know.” He shrugged. “Three in close succession is unusual, I’ll give you that, but it happens. Why would that make you break into my personal papers?”

Ashley was speechless. She was speechless because she really did believe him.

“This is something to do with Matt, isn’t it?”

“Well, not exactly. He doesn’t know—”

Charlie picked up his phone.

“Matt,” he said when it was answered. “You’d better get down here. I just caught your girlfriend breaking into my office.”

Chapter Fifteen

“I’m not Matt’s girlfriend.”

“Shut up.”

Charlie folded his arms across his chest, refusing to look at her. It felt as though the silence was sucking the air out of the room as they waited for Matt to join them. Ashley’s heart was pumping at twice its usual rate. Matt would be furious with her. She’d completely blown it, and what passed for the relationship he maintained with his cousin was now dead in the water. The atmosphere was laden with incriminations, and Ashley felt an instinctive desire to defend herself. She resisted, aware that anything she said would only make matters worse. She risked a glance at Charlie, who was now regarding her with more curiosity than anger. She wondered if that was progress.

The door burst open, and Matt stood there, frowning.

“Join the party,” Charlie said sarcastically.

“What’s going on?”

“I rather thought you’d be able to fill me in on that.”

“Ashley?”

“I was just—”

“I figured there was something not quite right about Ashley this morning,” Charlie said. “She was off her game. I couldn’t figure out why she’d be late for a meeting she’d been preparing for night and day. She didn’t put in her usual polished performance when she got her chance to shine and then cried off lunch with the others.”

“So?” Arms akimbo, Ashley stood and faced Charlie down. “What are you now, my mother? Your concern is touching, but it’s really none of your business how I perform.”

“Unless I catch you breaking into my private files.”

“Why do you need to keep a private file on Matt?”

“Ashley, it’s okay.”

Matt’s voice startled her. She’d been so focused on her argument with Charlie that she’d almost forgotten he was there.

“It’s not okay,” she countered. “Charlie’s trying to queer your pitch, but wants to make me out as the villain of the piece.”

“What’s this all about?” Charlie addressed himself to Matt. “Something about those death claims not being kosher?”

“Like you didn’t already know,” Ashley muttered.

“I didn’t, as it happens. What’s going on, Matt. You said you had them covered.”

Matt sighed. “Someone doctored our computer records. These cases were all rated from the outset. The policyholders told the truth about their pre-existing conditions, but when they died, all records of that were expunged from the system—”

“What!” Charlie shot off the wall he’d been leaning against. “How?”

“The original proposal forms were altered, the GP’s records changed. Our routine requests for reports when the policies were applied for aren’t there anymore.”

“But surely you can—”

“And there’s no trace of duplicate paperwork amongst the policyholders’ effects.”

“Ah, I see.” Charlie scratched the side of his chin. “How do you know they told the truth in the first place?”

“The premiums,” Ashley said. “They were rated from the outset.”

Charlie looked genuinely shell-shocked. “And you thought I’m responsible for all this?”

Matt shrugged. “Who else would it be?”

“Oh, that’s just great!” Charlie rounded on Matt. “I know you don’t think much of me, but this really takes the biscuit.”