Full Force Fatherhood. Tyler Snell Anne

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      “So, what can I do for you?” His eyes slid down to the folder in her lap. There wasn’t any use tiptoeing around what she had come to say.

      “I was packing up Victor’s office last night when I found some of his old notes.” She slid the folder across the desk. “Including these.”

      Dennis raised an eyebrow—also meticulously kept—but didn’t immediately pick up the folder. In that moment she was thankful she’d never had to work under the man. He fixed her with a gaze that clearly said, “So what?”

      “They’re his notes on the Bowman Foundation story—the last story he covered.” That at least made Dennis open the folder, though his eyes stayed on her.

      “Okay?” Dennis said.

      Kelli shifted in her seat again. “I guess I’m wondering why the story you printed doesn’t match up?”

      His eyebrow didn’t waver, but his gaze finally dropped to the photocopies she’d made of Victor’s notes. The actual notebook was tucked safely into her purse. She didn’t want to part with it, not even for a moment. Finding it after the past two years was like finding a small piece of Victor.

      “What do you mean, ‘doesn’t match up?’” Dennis asked, voice defensive. “I used the notes he sent me.”

      “Not according to those notes, which are undoubtedly his.” She leaned forward and pointed to the first section she had highlighted. “The names are different. I’ve already looked them up but can’t find anything.” Dennis pulled out a drawer and grabbed a pair of glasses from it without saying a word. He slipped them on and leaned his head closer to the paper. From where Kelli sat, she could see his concentration deepen.

      But she could also see something else.

      Dennis’s eyes registered no surprise at what he was seeing.

      “Normally I wouldn’t second-guess this, but...well, it was his last story,” she added.

      “The names we published were pulled straight from the email I got from Victor,” he said after a minute more of going through the pages. He set his glasses down and threaded his fingers together over the papers. The gesture also looked oddly defensive. “These were probably notes he wrote quickly, then later changed to be accurate. Perhaps it was even his way of brainstorming how he wanted the story to go with placeholder names.”

      Kelli didn’t need to think about that possibility long. She shook her head.

      “I think these were his backup notes. He always said he didn’t like keeping everything electronically. I just thought his written notes were also with us at the cabin.”

      Dennis seemed to consider what she said but, by the same token, it felt as though he was putting on a show. What had been an off-balanced feeling of doubt started to turn dark in the pit of her stomach.

      “I don’t know what to tell you. I personally verified the information—just to be safe—before the piece was published.” He shut the folder but didn’t slide it back. “The Bowman Foundation publically thanked the Scale—and Victor—for the story. Because of the spotlight, they’ve received a substantial amount of funding since the article debuted. If any of the facts were incorrect, I would have been made aware of it—retired or not.”

      Kelli considered his words. Was she just overreacting? Was she looking for a reason to revisit the memory of Victor? Had finding his handwritten journal been too much of a shock to her system?

      “Listen, Kelli.” Dennis’s expression softened. He took off his glasses and fixed her with a small smile. “I’m due to meet an old friend for lunch, but how about after that, I’ll recheck these.” He put his finger on the folder. “I’ll call if anything weird pops up.”

      Despite herself, she smiled, too.

      “Thanks. I’d really appreciate it.”

      Dennis stood, ending the conversation. He moved around the desk and saw her to the front door.

      As she turned to thank him again, he said, “I’m sorry about Victor. But, word of advice? Maybe you should start looking to the future and not the past.”

      Kelli didn’t have a lot of memories of her mother, but she knew being polite had been high on her priority list. That thought alone pushed a smile to her lips, while the knot in her stomach tightened. Dennis shut the door, leaving her standing on his porch with a great sense of unease.

      You’re reading way too into this, Kel, she thought as she turned on her heel. Calm down and just forget about it all.

      “Hey, Kelli?” Dennis called when she was halfway down his sidewalk. She hadn’t heard him open the door. “Do you have the journal those copies were from?”

      Her purse suddenly felt heavier at her side. Before she could think about it, she was shaking her head.

      “No, I just found the copies.”

      “Oh, okay, thanks.”

      She waved bye and continued on her way.

      “Because if you did have it, I’d really like to see it,” he called after her.

      The feeling of unease expanded within her. Once again she turned to face him.

      “Sorry. The copies I gave you were all I had.”

      Dennis shrugged and retreated behind the door. It wasn’t until she was safely inside her car that she chanced another look at the house.

      It might have been her imagination, but she could almost have sworn the blinds over the living room windows moved.

       Chapter Three

      Mark cracked his knuckles and swigged a gulp of his beer. Sitting behind the bar of a local dive, he kept his eyes glued to the television screen above him. An old football game was running, but he wasn’t paying much attention.

      He’d had one heck of a day, if he said so himself.

      The construction manager had come in early with a mood that matched the unexpected storm that would mean no work for the next two days to a week. Then the concrete pourer—who had never driven in rain, it seemed—had backed up into Mark’s Jeep, breaking a taillight and denting his bumper. The cherry on top was that when he decided to de-stress from an unproductive, unprofitable workday with a drink or two, he’d picked the bar from his past.

      “Sorry, I had to take that call.” Nikki Waters, founder of the Orion Security Group and his former boss, sat back on her bar stool and reclaimed her drink.

      Mark smiled but felt no mirth. He didn’t dislike Nikki. In fact, he had once considered her a great friend. However, the past two years had put a weight on the friendship. One that hadn’t affected just their relationship but his entire life.

      “It’s fine,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. He remembered meeting Nikki for the first time when she’d been a secretary at Redstone Solutions and he’d been a low-ranking security agent. СКАЧАТЬ