Past Midnight (35 page)

She didn’t turn, didn’t say a fucking word to stop him.

It had taken him a year to get here. Now he’d finally given up.

ERIN DIDN’T KNOW HOW IT WAS POSSIBLE NOT TO SAY A WORD TO someone for over forty-eight hours, but it was. They’d silently repacked the few things they’d removed from the case, checked out, taken a cab to the airport, gotten on a plane, and flown home, all in silence.

She wasn’t sure exactly when Dominic remembered that their car was in the Emeryville Amtrak parking lot, but it was somewhere between the time he’d booked their flights and when they’d signaled the cab at SFO. She hadn’t thought about it until he told the driver to take them to Emeryville.

She didn’t feel real. She didn’t feel as if she were sitting next to him, reachable, touchable. Would he file for divorce on Monday? She didn’t have enough emotion left inside her to know how she’d feel if he did.

She cleaned the house on Saturday, scrubbed toilets as if it were penance. She didn’t even go to bed, staying in her office until long past midnight, long after he was asleep. Ditto for Sunday night.

Torture herself. That’s what she did. Dominic accused her of robbing herself of Jay’s memory. But all her memories were right there on the computer, and she tortured herself with them every night when she couldn’t sleep. And now she could torture herself with the fact that she’d stolen Dominic’s memories, too. He was right about that, one more injustice she’d done him, one more thing to feel guilty for. If she could just
talk
to him the way he wanted, give him what he needed.

She touched the computer screen. “I’m so sorry, baby,” she whispered to her son’s photo, squeezing her eyes shut before a tear leaked out.

Monday came. Work came. She didn’t care about that either. When she pushed through the front door of DKG and saw Bree in her office clicking away on the keyboard, her belly crimped. Another reminder of all her mistakes. She didn’t consider apologizing again. After all, apologizing was only to assuage your own guilt, to force the other person to forgive you. It didn’t actually make
them
feel better.

She should have asked how Bree’s father was doing. How Bree herself was. But even the thought of doing that tightened something in Erin’s chest, cutting off her breath.

Amid the chorus of “Happy New Year” and “Good morning” and “Hey, there” Erin opened the middle drawer of her desk. The WEU letter lay there. It still called to her.
Give us a jingle, and we’ll buy you out of your misery.

“Happy New Year, Bree.” Rachel, next door, her voice cheerful after a week off. “You okay?” If Bree answered, Erin couldn’t hear.

Erin closed the drawer ever so slowly, just in case her fingers jerked and she accidentally slammed it. Rachel’s voice was the mirror of her guilt. She couldn’t even find the guts to speak to Bree.

Just like she couldn’t tell Dominic what she’d done even after he’d stripped himself bare for her. She could tell him she was sorry, but it wouldn’t fix her inability to talk about Jay.

“Okay, hon, I’ll check on you later,” she heard Rachel say. Rachel would now come to her office. Erin steeled herself.

Sure enough, she was the next on Rachel’s list. “Happy New Year, Erin.” She wore a sweet smile and a new dress, a leopard print with a high waist and calf-length skirt.

Erin jumped on the new dress before Rachel could ask anything she didn’t want to talk about. “That’s snazzy.” She pointed at Rachel’s outfit, inserting a cheery note that felt totally alien. “New for Christmas?”

Rachel held the skirt out and twirled. “Isn’t it great? My kids picked it out all by themselves.”

“Wow! They’ve got great taste.” The talk was easy, idle chitchat. Erin could handle that.

“But the best part was that they got it at the Salvation Army. It was only four ninety-nine.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I swear. They left the tags on to prove it.”

Erin had been referring to the fact that Rachel’s kids shopped at the Salvation Army for Christmas. But she’d made enough judgments recently, so all she said was, “Amazing.”

“I’ve been trying to teach them about the value of a dollar, since their father just hands them money on a platter.”

“That’s a great lesson.” There was something to admire in the fact that Rachel was more concerned about the lesson than the material thing.

“Well, I’ve got lots of stuff to catch up on, but let me know if there’s anything you need.”

Erin needed to know if Bree was okay, but if she wanted the answer, she’d have to find the nerve to ask for herself. “I’m fine for now, thanks.”

“Find some courage,” she muttered to herself after Rachel left.

Dammit, she would do this. She was so good at putting her feelings above others, avoiding anything that made her uncomfortable or brought up her own bad memories. Not this time. She owed it to Bree.

Erin stood up, straightened her jacket, girding herself, then she rounded her desk.

The girls were planted by the coffeemaker. The girls, that’s how she thought of them, Yvonne, Rachel, and Bree, who’d left her office to follow the scent of fresh coffee as if it were brewed by the pied piper.

“Oh my God, Yvonne. That’s so great.” Rachel threw her arms around the older woman, hugged her tight.

Rachel was so . . . solid. A great mom, a good employee, a decent friend. Erin admired her, envied her.

“Did you hear?” Rachel said, suddenly seeing Erin and pulling her into the circle with just her voice.

Erin didn’t used to feel like an outsider. DKG had been her home and everyone who worked there part of her extended family. Now, she was just the boss. She didn’t know how to retrieve the sense of family.

Like Jay, it was gone forever.

“No, I didn’t hear the news.” She infused her voice with enthusiasm. “What?”

“Yvonne’s going to be a grandma.” Rachel gave her another quick hug.

Erin gulped. “Congratulations. That’s great.” She’d known the holidays would be bad, but
after
the holidays almost felt worse, probably because of what happened with Dominic in the hotel room. But she would not let Yvonne or any of them see it. “I’m so happy for you.”

Yvonne beamed, eyes glittering with unshed tears. “My youngest daughter wrapped up a ‘welcome baby’ card in a box, and that was my Christmas present.”

“Oh, that was the best present you could have had.” Rachel’s excitement knew no bounds.

Even Bree gave Yvonne a hug. “When’s the baby due?”

“July.”

Jay had been a July baby.

She saw the moment Yvonne remembered, the moment the sparkle in her eyes dimmed. Her gaze flashed to Erin as if she’d done something terrible, as if she’d personally made sure her grandchild would be born in July so that Erin could feel the punch of it.

“Oh, wouldn’t it be fun if the baby was born on July fourth,” Erin said, forcing a bubble of excitement into her words.

“Yes,” Yvonne answered, then clapped her hands. “But let’s get to work, girls. There’s a ton of work to catch up on.”

What was it that Rachel had said the day she drove Erin to the airport for the Orlando flight? That she knew she wasn’t ever supposed to mention Jay or even sympathize. It wasn’t just Dominic’s memories Erin had stolen. It wasn’t even her own. She’d taken them from everyone at DKG. She’d even managed to put a blot on Yvonne’s happiness over her grandchild with her inability to face her guilt and pain.

Life had stopped for her so she’d made sure it didn’t go on for anyone else. If only she’d let Dominic talk long ago. She felt sick. If only . . .

“Bree,” she said as the girl headed back to her office with a fresh cup of coffee.

“I’m running the inventory revaluations now with the new standards.” Bree tucked a fall of dark hair behind her ear. “I’ll have the change calculated for you in couple of hours.”

“Thank you.” Erin took a deep breath. She could have let it go at that. She didn’t. “How are you doing? How’s your dad?” She could hear the loud beat of her heart in her ears over the sound of her own voice.

“Fine, just fine.” Bree stared at Erin’s throat instead of meeting her gaze.

Erin had used the stock phrase so many times herself when Dominic tried to get her to talk that she knew exactly what it meant.
Nothing
was fine. “Well, if you need anything, please come to me.”

“Sure, Erin, thanks,” Bree said to the carpet.

Erin touched her arm. A deep pain had blossomed in Bree’s eyes when she looked up. “Bree, you
can
come to me. I spoke out of turn last week, and I want you to know that I believe in you. I’ll help out in any way I can.” It didn’t make up for the tone of her accusations. “Let me know if and when you need time off, and we’ll take care of everything. I’ll support whatever you decide to do.”

“Yeah. Thanks. But it’s okay for now, Erin.”

Erin had to let her go. She didn’t feel better, but at least she’d found the courage to say something.

She stared across the room at the hallway leading to the engineering offices and the lab. Dominic had been in the shower when she left this morning. Now he was half an hour late. She was part terror over that, part glad for the reprieve.

It was one thing to face Bree and Yvonne. She wasn’t ready for Dominic. She might never be ready for Dominic. And yet, he was the one she most owed an apology to. If only . . .

“Hey, Erin, come here.” She was concentrating so hard, she jumped when Al suddenly appeared in the hallway.

“What?” That was all she could manage.

He smiled, waggled his eyebrows. “I think I’ve got it, but Dominic’s not here yet, so I gotta show you or bust a seam.” Then he disappeared.

She trailed him to Dominic’s office to find him playing with the computer. He signaled her around to watch over his shoulder. All she saw were listings of random numbers and letters, dates and times.

“Okay,” he said, pointing. “See this user ID?”

“Yes.” The seeming randomness coalesced into a recognizable name: ycolbert. He was looking at Yvonne’s user name. Her stomach sank.

Then Dominic appeared in the doorway, and the bottom fell out of everything. His thick hair was dry, his jaw smooth with a fresh shave. Even standing behind his desk with Al, she could smell her shampoo on him. He always used whatever she had in the shower, yet this morning, the scent on him turned her inside out.

What had he been doing between his shower and arriving at work? Why was he late? Where had he been? She was afraid to ask.

He looked at her, his face expressionless, then spoke to Al. “What’s up?”

“Dude, I have answers.” Al pressed his lips into a flat line. “Actually, I have more questions, but it’s all leading in the right direction.” He tipped his head, glanced up at Erin, and, as if sensing something was off, added, “You weren’t here so I was showing it to Erin.”

“Fine. Now you can get me up to speed.” Dominic moved around the desk so they were flanking Al in the chair.

Al filled him in. Dominic didn’t say a word as he deciphered Yvonne’s user name.

“Now most of her logons are coming from DKG’s IP address.” Al tapped the screen. “It’s her work computer.”

“Okay, I see that,” Erin said.

“Here’s her home computer. I verified the IP address.” He sat back, bobbed his head. “And I did a cursory check of when she claims she logs on from home versus the data you see here. It checks, mostly when she’s trying to get shipments out the door at a crunch time.”

Why was he drawing this out? Her head was starting to ache. She’d already blown a gasket and accused Bree. She wasn’t about to turn around and do the same thing to Yvonne.

“But see this?” He pointed to a completely different IP address, but didn’t wait for anyone to answer him. “For the last six months, Yvonne’s user ID has been logging on from this address the first week of every new fiscal month. It could be her using another computer somewhere . . .” He trailed off, shooting them both a dubious look that asked why Yvonne would bother with a third computer and only use it once a month.

Erin stared at the numbers and dates which were suddenly not so random at all. It wasn’t the first day of the new month. It was the fourth. After Bree had compiled all the month-end reports. “But that means—”

“Yeah. It means someone’s been logging on to your system once a month. They’ve been monitoring your cumulative sales figures. And your financials.”

“HOW WOULD SOMEONE GET HER PASSWORD?” DOMINIC STARED AT the damning screen, sick, tired, and all the rest of it. He and Erin had barely spoken over the weekend, the house covered in a silent pall. And now this. “The system requires that it’s changed every month.”

“She could have a malware on her home computer that’s tracking her keystrokes,” Al offered up.

Erin shook her head, her finger to her lips. “If someone was going to track her keystrokes, they’d be better off stealing her credit card numbers or banking password.” She narrowed her eyes at the monitor. “No, this is directed at us specifically.”

She was all professional and studious, dressed in a black blazer, black slacks, and a white blouse. She didn’t show a trace of what they’d done on the train. Nor a trace of any emotion for what he’d said to her in the hotel room. Nothing. Over the long weekend, he’d accepted that she was no longer capable of any real emotion.

It had died with Jay. Their marriage had died. The woman he’d loved was gone for good.

Al threw up his hands. “I’ve got a brilliant idea.” He flashed a look between them as if they were dunces. “Let’s ask her.”

For a moment Dominic thought Al was referring to Erin.
Let’s ask her if she’s got any anything left for you, Dominic, or is it really all dead?

He’d gotten the message loud and clear in Reno.