Chapter 38

"Ev, can I talk to you?" Roger is standing in the doorway to my office, leaning against the frame and fiddling nervously with his suit jacket cuffs. He looks uncertain and upset, and I'm instantly on alert.

"Of course," I say, setting down my pen from where I'm making notes on the last physical I'd just given the Alpha that morning. I always like to hand write my notes and type them up later; it helps me remember more without having to check the files for every little detail.

"Do you want to come in?" I ask when Roger doesn't move. He shakes his head quickly.

"No," he says in a low voice. "Not here. Can we go out for lunch today? In half an hour, maybe?"

I'm surprised and uneasy. I've never seen Roger this way – unsure of himself, nervous, fidgety. He's glanced over his shoulder down the hallway twice in our 30-second conversation. Something's wrong.

"Yeah, of course," I say. "Is everything okay?"

Roger glances behind him again before turning back to me with a shake of his head. He puts his fingers to his lips before speaking with forced cheer and levity.

"Of course everything's okay!" he chirps unconvincingly. "I just want to ask you about some details I'm going over for my wedding. Colin and I can't agree on about half this stuff – especially flowers. Who knew there were so many floral arrangements to choose from?"

Now I'm really rattled. Obviously Roger thinks there's a possibility that we might be overheard somehow, despite the fact that nobody else is around. Claire is out for the day, and the Alpha's office is too far away for even his keen hearing to pick up on our low voices.

I obsessively check my office for bugs every time I enter it, but Roger doesn't know that. Plus, there's always a chance that I've missed something, so it's probably better to be safe than sorry, anyway.

I nod in understanding before responding in the same chipper tone.

"Sure thing!" I say. "Give me a few minutes to type all these up, and we can go. You know I love any wedding planning problem you can throw at me."

Roger inaudibly sighs with relief, giving me a subtle thumbs up.

"Meet you out front," he says. "We can take my car."

"What the hell is going on?" I ask as I climb into the passenger seat of Roger's sporty, red little Mazda about half an hour later.

Roger frantically shakes his head.

"Not here," he mouths silently. I raise my eyebrows in surprise but nod, giving him a thumbs up.

"So, where to?" he asks, still using that false cheery tone that he used upstairs in my office. "My treat, since you're the one doing me a favor. We can go anywhere you want. Well, anywhere you want that will take two staff members last-minute without reservations."

I give a genuine laugh at that. I'm worried and, frankly, frightened by Roger's demeanor, but he's such a personable, funny guy that even my extreme anxiety can't withstand his charm. It's amazing how well he can act under pressure, too. I guess it's part of why he's so good at his job.

I choose a nearby sushi restaurant that I sometimes go to by myself after work. It's small and out of the way, and it's definitely not upscale enough to be used by anyone else in the Alpha's mansion. There's virtually no chance of us being seen or overheard by anyone we know there.

It's not until we're seated and have ordered tempura appetizers that Roger finally speaks plainly. He's also ordered us two servings of hot sake – in the middle of the workweek, in the middle of the work day – which has me feeling more alarmed than ever.

I've never seen Roger drink more than a single glass of wine in an entire evening when he's on the clock. Sake during lunch is unheard of, so out of character that I'm getting really freaked out now.

Our sakes and water are delivered to the table, and the server leaves us. The restaurant atmosphere is as perfect as a public place can be for what's obviously going to be a private and probably secret conversation: busy enough that there's a low level of chatter to obscure our voices, but empty enough that we were able to get a table far away from everyone else.

"Roger," I say in a low voice. "What the hell is going on?"

Roger takes a deep sip of sake, fiddling with the tiny clay cup for a moment before setting it down and leaning across the table toward me.

"Ev, something weird is going on, and I'm getting scared. I didn't know who else to turn to, because I don't know who else will even listen. And I really don't know who I can even trust. I'm not even sure I can safely speak within the mansion anymore, or in my own car, hence–" he waves his hands at the restaurant.

"You are freaking me out," I hiss. "Of course you can trust me. What is it?"

"It's Charles," Roger almost whispers. He looks frightened. I've never seen him like this.

At the name Charles, I feel my gut turn to lead. All roads lead back to Charles. What's he up to now? I'm almost afraid to find out.

"What about him?" I ask, biting my lip in anxiety.

"First, I don't want you to think I was snooping," Roger says. "I wasn't; I never have. I've never had reason to – the mansion and the Alpha family have always been so safe, so above board, so professional.

"I never had cause to think anything shady was going on around here, until now. Weird stuff has been happening since Charles got on board. And now it's gotten worse."

"Weird stuff?" I ask. "What kind of weird stuff?"

"Claire has mentioned struggling to make some of the accounts add up, for one thing," Roger whispers. "We've never had that problem before. It almost looks like someone is moving large amounts of money around, unauthorized.

"But they're only in the accounts that have top-security access – even Claire herself can't withdraw money from them; she can only balance and record them. The only people who have access to those accounts are the Alpha and his top secretary."

Charles.

"But it's all been so cleverly done that she can't prove anything yet. Everything looks like it's been accounted for on the surface, but she's got a funny feeling. The numbers seem off. She's keeping records until she can take something concrete to the Alpha."

"What else?" I murmur, pausing as the server comes back to deposit our appetizers and take our orders. I order a salmon roll, even though I lost my appetite the minute Roger appeared in my office doorway.

Roger takes a bite of prawn tempura and chews it absently before answering. It looks like he's hesitating for some reason.

"There's this business with the Alpha being so sick, despite treatment," he says at last. "And now all these extra-restrictive procedures we have in place. Procedures that you put in place. I'm wondering if you know more than you're letting on."

I freeze, opening and closing my mouth for a few seconds. I have no idea what to say. I trust Roger, but I can't bring even more people into this. Not without getting all the information I can first. We cannot, cannot risk any hint of who I really am or what I've discovered getting back to Charles.

Roger watches me struggle in silence for a moment before nodding.

"I thought so," he says. "Ev, I'm not going to press you for details. Share them with me if you think it's necessary, but to be honest, I'm scared shitless at this point and don't even want to know unless you think I have to.

"It's not just me; I have Colin to think about. If things are as bad as I think they are, I'm better off not knowing."

I sigh in relief, looking into his eyes and nodding without speaking.

He nods back. "Got it. Then I think you're the right person to tell this to, and after it's off my chest, I can go back to pretending I don't know a goddamn thing. Christ, I wish that was the case."

"What did you learn?" I ask quietly.

"I overheard Charles on the phone in his office when I was stopping by to drop off some paperwork for the Alpha," Roger says. "He was shouting at someone, so it was impossible not to hear. He didn't know I was there.

"The gist is, it sounds like Charles had an ex-fiancee, and he framed her for some drug dealings he was involved in. He lost a lot of money when the drugs were seized by police, by the way, which he still hasn't recovered from."

I think of the missing money in the top-security accounts, and I know Roger is too.

"Anyway, it sounds like he was worried this woman wouldn't continue to keep his secrets after he threw her over for Daisy, so he arranged to have her murdered."

I barely restrain a snort. Obviously, I'm not dead at all, but if I were, it would've been a car crash that did it. Charles may be responsible for my supposed death, but he didn't arrange it. That snake will seize credit for just about anything he can.

"But what's really freaking me out is what I heard on the rest of the call," Roger says. He looks truly terrified now. "Charles's mother didn't know about the drugs. She really thought they belonged to the ex.

"She's gotten suspicious now that this ex has been murdered, and she's asking a lot of questions. Charles is angry and scared that she's going to figure out the truth, and he's talking about having her taken care of."

Roger looks at me with stark fear in his eyes.

"Ev, I think Charles is going to murder his mother. And I don't know what to do to stop it."