Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“It’s not quite that simple, Ms. Hamilton,” he frowned. “What we are looking at here is quite a serious case of embezzlement. Now, the very fact that you were there under false pretenses is the one thing you have going for you. Otherwise we would be asking these questions with a view to working out whether or not you were part of the scheme. However, it is still in your best interest to tell us everything you think you know about the matter.”
I stared at him, my mouth open. “Embezzlement? You mean this isn’t about the game idea?”
“Copyright infringement is not exactly a matter for this department,” he scoffed, his voice suddenly lowered. “But the kind of financial irregularities we are looking at are. If money has been moved fraudulently, we will discover it, and anyone who knows about it.”
“I know absolutely nothing about any kind of financial irregularity,” I said.
He nodded and left the room, and soon another officer had come to tell me I was free to go and thank me for my time. I felt a weird mixture of relief that I couldn’t possibly be in trouble for something I didn’t know anything about, and the sickening realization that Keegan was in deep. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, I stood for a minute, not sure where to go, or what to do. I began to walk, not really heading anywhere in particular. Just walking, for something to do. I wanted to call Keegan, to ask him once and for all what was going on. But how could I be sure he would give me a straight answer? How could I know what he was thinking? How could I trust him?
I kept walking, making my way through the park, buying a coffee, then walking around holding it until it got cold. Over and over in my mind I was replaying things he had said to me, searching for some hidden meaning, for some clue I had missed that he was up to something. But nothing. I swung wildly between feeling desperately sorry for him to feeling incredibly angry with him. When I eventually made my way back home, I was physically and mentally exhausted. I trailed up the stairwell and opened my door, pushing it harder than usual to get it open. A yellow envelope lay on the doormat inside the hallway, and I picked it up. It was addressed to me, my name and address sprawled across it in thick, black block capital letters, but it hadn’t been mailed, it had been hand delivered.
I shivered. It was a little weird, and I closed and locked the door behind me, flicking on the lights even though it was only just beginning to get dark. I took the envelope into the kitchen and used a knife to cut it open where it was wrapped around with tape to secure it. Whoever had left it here certainly didn’t want it to be easy to open. Inside were bundles of paper, and as I pulled them out, I realized they weren’t just paper, they were hundred-dollar bills.
Chapter 37
KEEGAN
I WAS ON THE road when she called. There was only so much I could do back at Chris’ place, and so I had headed off along the coast. Anything to distract me from my own thoughts. I was suddenly unbearably unbusy. No more work, no more schedules, no more itineraries. It was everything I wanted, and I was totally miserable. I realized now that it wasn’t the absence of these things I wanted, it was the freedom to self-determine them. I actually needed to work, and this had proven it. My plans with Chris weren’t fully settled; there were some last things that needed to be put in place, but he had been good enough to put me up while we sorted it, and I kept myself occupied by watching him work and helping out where I could.
I pulled over when I felt the vibration of the phone, and took the bike along a track leading down to a small bay where it wouldn’t be visible, then I had pulled off my jacket and made my way down to the stony outcrop where the land met the water. It was a beautiful spot, but it reminded me too much of sitting looking out over the Irish sea with Freya in Bray, and I knew that however the conversation I was about to have went, this was not a helpful thought.
“What do you want?” I asked, and then regretted the hostility in my tone. I had planned to act like her betrayal meant nothing to me, and that meant keeping cool and calm.
“The police have questioned me,” she said, her voice shaking a little.
“What did you tell them?” I asked as though I were asking her what the weather was like there.