Colton K-9 Cop. Addison Fox

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СКАЧАТЬ known you a long time, young lady. You’re not fine. And that was no simple visit to HR.”

      “It’s a private matter.”

      “Meetings in HR usually are.” Gus tugged at his ear, but kept pace next to her now that they’d slowed a bit. “I’ve known you since you were small. Your parents’ store was a key stop for me every morning on my drive to LSP and more often than not, you’d find your way behind that counter, fixing me a coffee and a muffin. You’re a good girl, Bellamy Reeves, and whatever that private matter was about, you don’t deserve an escort off the grounds.”

      The tears that had prickled the backs of her eyes intermittently since leaving Sally’s office spiked once more but she held them back. She’d cried enough tears for a lifetime the past six months and refused to shed the same emotion over a situation that she hadn’t caused, nor was she responsible for.

      “Thanks, Gus.”

      “I don’t care what HR says about me watching you like a common criminal. You go back to your office and take a few minutes to pack up. I’ll wait for you in the lobby. It’ll give me a chance to get some coffee.”

      “But what if HR catches you? Won’t you get in trouble?”

      Gus waved a hand. “If HR has a problem with me, they’re going to have to go through Sutton. He may have his moments, acting like a damn fool ladies’ man, but he and I went fishing in Whisperwood Creek when we were both seven years old. Been fishing there off and on ever since together. No one’s firing me.”

      Bellamy smiled at the image—the grizzled Gus and the erudite Sutton Taylor, casting lines off the side of the creek. The “ladies’ man” comment was a bit bold, even for Gus, but Bellamy was hardly unaware of Taylor’s reputation.

      “You’ve known each other a long time.”

      “A lifetime. All it would take is a few words to him and we can fix this.”

      “No, Gus.” She shook her head before gentling her tone at the sincere offer of help. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it, but I need to take care of this myself.”

      “If you’re sure?”

      “I’m sure. I’ll find a way to fix this. To fix it all.”

      Gus nodded before using his badge to open the door to Bellamy’s building. “Okay, then. I’ll get my coffee and wait here. You take your time.”

      “Thank you.”

      A large staircase rose out of the lobby toward the second floor and Bellamy started up the stairs toward her office, another one of her daily concessions to health and wellness. The hallways were even emptier than when she’d left for Human Resources—had it really only been an hour?—and she passed a few pockets of conversation and could hear one of her colleagues talking in muted tones from inside his office.

      What would they tell Andrew?

      She liked her boss. They’d worked well since she’d been put on his team two years prior and she’d like to tell him in person what was going on. Share her side of the story. But he’d already departed a few weeks early for the holidays, taking his family on a long-planned trip to Hawaii.

      The fleeting thought of texting him faded as she imagined what she’d even try to say.

      Sorry to bother you on vacation. I just got fired because we’re tampering with the flu vaccine supply chain here at LSP.

      No way.

      Even if she did want to bother him, what would he do from four thousand miles away? What she needed to do was take stock and evaluate what had happened. Then she could decide the best course of action. She was a well-respected employee at LSP and a member of the community. She’d find a way through this.

      Even if Sally’s comments at the end had taken a toll. Bellamy’s father’s accident and subsequent financial troubles weren’t exactly a secret. She’d even had to sell the family business—the long-standing corner store her father had opened in his twenties—to pay for his medical bills.

      No matter how sympathetic or understanding people might have been, it wasn’t a far leap to think they’d believe Sally’s innuendo.

      It’s sad.

      Illness like that takes a toll.

      It’s also an expensive thing.

      Each miserable word had stamped itself in her mind and Bellamy was hard-pressed to see how she’d come out in the best light should Sally decide to spread those rumors.

      On a resigned sigh, she reached for the box Gus had handed her before departing for his coffee. Thirteen years, and she was left with a brown box and the few items she could stow inside.

      The photo of her parents out front of the store—one of her favorites—came off her credenza first, followed by her calendar, a silly glass elf she’d purchased a few years before and the small radio that was still playing Christmas songs. She added a personnel file she’d kept her records in, a handful of cards given from coworkers through the years and, last, a few copies of the email she’d printed for herself.

      Although she suspected even the affable Gus would have to take back any files she attempted to remove from her desk, she did a quick sweep of her files to make sure she hadn’t missed anything.

      And saw the framed photo of her sister, Maggie, she’d shoved in the bottom drawer. A dazzling smile reflected back at her, the remembered warmth there stabbing into Bellamy’s heart.

      She missed her sister. Desperately. And far more than she probably should, even as she blamed Maggie for all that had gone wrong over the past five years.

      Her sister’s abandonment had stung, but it was the cold shoulder Maggie had given her at their parents’ funerals that had hurt the most. When had her bright, beautiful, vibrant sister become such a cold witch?

      The urge to toss the photo into the garbage, along with a few of the folders that held out-of-date information or pamphlets on some of their older drug introductions, was strong, but in the end familial loyalty won out and she shoved the frame facedown on top of the small pile of items in her cardboard box. If she was going to toss the picture, she could do it properly at home, not in a snit in what was soon to be someone else’s office.

      Shaking off the personal reminder of her relationship with her sister, Bellamy finished placing the last few items in the box. The printouts of the email that had started it all were the last to go in and, on impulse, she took the printouts from the box and secured them in her purse. “At least I have something.”

      The copy wasn’t much but it did have a time and date stamp on it, and if she were able to secure a legal representative who could subpoena the company’s electronic records, she might be able to prove the fact the email had been sent to her and was not a result of her own tampering.

      With a hard tug on the closure of her purse, Bellamy stopped herself and fell into her chair.

      Subpoena? Electronic records? Legal representation?

      How had she gone from a fiercely loyal employee to someone ready to instigate legal action in a matter of minutes?

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