A Good Kind of Trouble (A Trouble in Twin Rivers Novel Book 1) (35 page)

"Good," West said and she could hear the relief in his voice. "So what's going on up there? Why are you being let go?"
 

She laughed again, a little more genuinely this time.
 

"I'm not telling you," she said. "You'd scoop me in a minute."
 

He laughed and the sound made her homesick. "Smart girl."
 

"Plus, I still think there's a good story there."
 

"Then keep on it," he said. "You've got great instincts, kid."
 

Easy for him to say. But she thanked her dad and hung up. Her throat felt dry and swollen from holding back the tears.
 

She reached for the pile of now-useless research. Somewhere in there was the agenda for the Tuesday city council meeting and she needed to get that summary to Sam and then write up the background that could be plugged into the story.
 

Just a straight story on the vote. No scandal. No conspiracy.
 

She eyed the list of agenda items, her gaze stopping at the two bond votes. The smart thing to do would be to take her dad’s offer. The safe thing would be to write the story Sam wanted. But the entire story of the bonds, the corruption at City Hall—it was important. She’d already cost Ben his job and was about to lose her own. Lyle was on the edge. Her eyes burned and her throat closed up as she fought the urge to cry. She blinked and took a deep breath. Was there anything she could do to salvage her investigation?
 

The phone rang again and she jumped, knocking the handset out of its cradle. She fumbled with it and saw the caller ID said the call was from a city hall extension.
 

"Lindsey Fox."
 

"Ms. Fox, it's Lyle Wilkes." His voice was low and trembling.
 

"Lyle? What's wrong?"
 

He wouldn't be calling her from work unless it was an emergency.
 

"Oh, God. It's bad," he gasped.
 

"What? What happened?"
 

"Two men, following me—everywhere I go. At work. At home. Every time I turn around, they're there."
 

The blood drained from her head. This was all her fault. She had dragged an innocent man, a nice civil servant, into this mess.
 

"When? What did they look like?"
 

"Hold on."
 

The other end of the call went silent and Lindsey waited, listening for any sound of Lyle being kidnapped or assaulted.
No story, my ass
. She just hoped the story wouldn't end up being "Nice Civil Servant Found Dead."
 

"Okay, I'm back. I had to make sure the door was locked."
 

"Are you in your office?"

"No! I couldn't call you from my phone. I snuck into an office at the assessor's department. I can't stay long."
 

"When did you see them? Were they driving?" She grabbed a pen and unearthed a notepad from the messy desk.
 

She heard Lyle's shaky breath before he answered. "Yesterday, after we met at the garage, I saw them near City Hall. I was going to go back to work, see if I could find anything to help you with those company names. They were in a dark sedan, tinted windows, very sinister," he said, drawing another shaky breath. "That's when I realized that I'd seen them before. Hanging around outside my house. Just that same morning."
 

His voice was rushed as he hurriedly recounted his encounter with the men.
 

"They were there again this morning and followed me to work," he continued. "When I went out for lunch, they were there again and this time they chased me."
 

"Oh God," she whispered in horror, picturing Lyle trying to outrun the stalkers. "They chased you?"
 

"I got away," he said. "But it was close. The younger one is fast. I thought I better let you know. You might be in danger, too."
 

She exhaled and tried to focus.
 

"Look, Lyle, I'm really sorry about this. I'll do whatever I can to fix it."

"It's too late, Ms. Fox. If I don't get killed, I'm at least going to lose my job."
 

Jesus, she was just a path of destruction—wiping out careers and lives wherever she went. First Ben, now Lyle. Her own job. Was there any stopping her reign of terror?
 

Yes, damn it. She was going to put this right. Lindsey sat up straight, determined.
 

"Lyle, stop panicking. I am going to help you.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Ben’s hand hovered over the phone on his desk. He’d taken the same action a dozen times since arriving at the Fields Law Group that morning—pick up the receiver, dial a few digits. Each time, he’d found a reason not to complete the call. Jude needed his help researching recent securities law cases. Then Tasha wanted to set up his voicemail. He even volunteered to watch Fiona’s baby so his new coworker could join a conference call.
 

Even as busy as the law office was, it wasn’t enough to distract Ben from thoughts of Lindsey. Every morning, there was a reminder sitting on Tasha’s desk in the form of the
Beacon
rolled up and secured with a rubber band.
 

So why did he hesitate? He knew what he wanted and there was nothing holding him back from getting it.
 

A quick rap on his open door drew his attention and he saw Fiona standing in the doorway, baby Emmy on her hip. He pulled his hand back from the phone and stood.

“We’re heading home,” Fiona said with a smile. “Thanks again for watching Emmy while I was on the call. I’m sure it wasn’t what you had in mind when you came to work here.”
 

Ben grinned at the smiling, drooling baby. “Oh, it was no problem at all. Emmy and I got along great.”
 

The baby laughed and kicked her legs in joy at Ben’s voice. “Yes, I can tell you two really hit it off. I’ll be at that conference the next few days, so have a good week.”
 

Fi and Emmy walked down the stairs and Ben returned to his desk, the phone still tempting him. He heard the murmur of Fiona saying goodbye to Jude, then the sound of the front door closing in the otherwise silent building.

Returning to his desk, his gaze fell on the phone. So Lindsey didn’t trust him. They could work that out, right? He punched in the digits before he could back out.
 

“Lindsey Fox.” Her voice sounded rushed and he glanced at the clock. Late afternoon. She was probably on deadline.
 

“It’s Ben. I—” he said, starting to apologize for interrupting, but before he could get the words out, she jumped in.
 

“Ben! Oh, thank God! I need you—I have this person—this problem—” she said, talking so fast he could barely understand her. All he got out of her rushed greeting was that she needed him.
 

“Hey, slow down. What’s going on?”
 

He heard her take a deep breath. “I need to see you.”
 

His heart swelled and he smiled. “Yeah, okay. I’d like that. That’s why I’m calling—”
 

“I’ll be right there.”
 

The line went dead and Ben stared at the receiver in his hand. That had not gone as he expected.
 

He replaced the phone and straightened the papers on his desk, organizing his research and notes so Tasha could file them. Then he took the stack downstairs and stood in front of Tasha’s desk. She was typing on the computer and didn’t look up.
 

“Put those on my desk. I’ll file them,” she said.
 

“I can do it, just point me to the files,” Ben said.
 

She stopped typing, turned and glared at him. “No.”
 

“Only Tasha files,” Jude said from the door to his office.

“You do it wrong,” she said, turning her stubborn expression to Jude, who grinned at her rebuke. She sighed and stood up, taking the papers from Ben and stalking back to the file room.

“Don’t be insulted. She’s very picky about the filing,” Jude said. “You leaving for the day?”
 

Ben grinned. “It’s not even five o’clock yet. I’m sure there’s something I could be doing.”
 

Jude shrugged. “You can start reviewing the discovery in the conference room. Tasha set it out already. But don’t feel you have to work late.”
 

This was a refreshing attitude, but one that Ben still wasn’t used to. He hoped that Dave and Gordo were as happy at their new jobs. Dave and three other Stanton & Lowe partners had split off and formed their own firm, taking Gordo and a few other associate attorneys with them. Gordo was going to get to work on the employment cases he thought were so interesting, and Dave was looking forward to expanding his tax law practice to advising nonprofit organizations.

Jude had wasted no time in exploiting Ben’s experience in finance, bringing him in to help on a white-collar case that involved allegations of securities fraud and money laundering. There was plenty of evidence for him to review before he left for the day.
 

Plus, Lindsey might be on her way over. If that’s what she meant before she hung up the phone. Maybe he’d hang out a little longer to see if she showed up.
 

“I’ll start on the discovery,” he said.

“Sure. Let me know if you find anything that helps our guy,” Jude said, retreating back into his office.
 

Ben found the conference room table stacked with piles of documents that had been arranged chronologically. He found the earliest dates and started reading financial reports and ledgers. He was only halfway through the first stack when he heard the front door open with a crash.
 

Stepping out into the hall, he saw Lindsey dragging a slight, middle-aged man into the lobby. The way she gripped the man’s arm left some doubt about whether the man was at the law firm willingly or was some sort of hostage.
 

“Oh, great. You’re still here,” Lindsey said, looking past Tasha as Ben came down the hall.
 

Tasha turned and frowned at Ben, her suspicious gaze telegraphing that she knew he was the source of the loud intruder.
 

“You can take the small conference room,” she said, crossing the lobby to open the door and usher Lindsey and the reluctant visitor into the small meeting space.
 

“Thanks, Tasha,” Ben said, closing the door behind him.
 

He studied the man who was sweating beneath an outsized cowboy hat and sunglasses. Standing near the window, Lindsey’s familiar figure was silhouetted by the afternoon sun. Ben’s eyes took in every detail, like a hungry man at a bakery window. Long, lean legs, ridiculously high heels and a slim skirt. A pale pink sleeveless blouse that skimmed her curves. He swallowed and remembered to breathe.
 

"Lindsey," he said. “What’s going on?”

She walked forward and he felt the same rush of heat and emotion when he looked into her eyes. It had been just over a week since they'd seen each other, but it had felt like an eternity. An eternity in which she was constantly on his mind. How had he become so attached in such a short period?
 

"I'd like you to meet my, uh, friend, Lyle Wilkes," she said.
 

Ben shook the man's hand, noting that the man wouldn't look him in the eye. At least, he didn't think he was. It was hard to say with those ridiculous sunglasses.
 

"Hello, Mr. Wilkes," Ben said. "How can I help you?"
 

The man took off the sunglasses and the hat with hands that trembled slightly. He opened his mouth to answer, then shut it again and shot a helpless look to Lindsey.

"Lyle's boss is threatening to fire him," she said.

Ben watched Lindsey fidget with strap on her messenger bag. There was something more going on, but he didn't press her.
 

"Why don't you sit down," he said, trying to put the tense little man at ease. "Where do you work, Mr. Wilkes?"

"Oh, this was a bad idea! A terrible idea," he said, still standing and wringing his hands. "I shouldn't have come here."
 

Ben held out his hands and motioned to the chairs. "Why don't you have a seat, Mr. Wilkes. I'll get you something to drink. Would you like some tea or coffee?"
 

Lindsey took the man's arm and led him to an chair at the round oak table. He perched on the edge of the upholstered furniture, as if he might bolt.
 

"Tea would be nice."
 

Decaf tea
. The mystery man was tense enough.
 

Ben slowly backed toward the door. "Okay, great. You stay there and I'll be right back," he said, trying not to spook the flighty man. "Lindsey, come with me."
 

She followed him to the kitchen where he filled the electric kettle.
 

"What's going on?" he asked.
 

"Lyle needs a lawyer. You're the best lawyer I know," she said.
 

"Well, you probably don't know many lawyers," Ben said. "Why not Dave?"

She rolled her eyes. "Lyle doesn't have tax problems. He's got other problems, job problems. You have to help him. The mayor is threatening to fire him."
 

The way Lindsey’s hands were clasped together told him was more to this story. "What else?"
 

"Nothing else. His boss is threatening to fire him, for no good reason," she said, appearing to study the tiles on the kitchen counter with great intensity.
 

She paused and he waited for her to continue. She fidgeted in the silence. Finally, she sighed.
 

"I think he's in trouble. And it's all my fault."
 

Ben kept his eyes on her until she raised her chin and met his gaze, guilt all over her face. He nodded as if he understood her problem.