Lost and Found (Masters & Mercenaries: The Forgotten #2)(14)



She took a deep breath and pushed through. That was her life. Pushing through. She’d been born for this, born to fight this fight.

But even gladiators took the night off every now and then.

She glanced down at the reports on her desk. Cathy had done exactly what she’d asked. She had the accounting reports for the last few quarters. Now there was a mystery she wanted to solve.

Something was up with the accounting. Perhaps it was nothing more than a mathematical error or the misapplication of funds to one account or another, but there was a million dollars missing. It had been taken out in small figures. A hundred here, nine hundred there. There was a requisition for a seventy-five-thousand-dollar piece of medical equipment, but she couldn’t find the delivery receipt. It all added up to one big suspicion. Becca intended to figure out where it had gone.

She gathered up the files. She’d had them printed out because she didn’t want anyone to know she was looking into it.

Her cell rang and she sighed in relief. She didn’t have to think about it for another couple of minutes. Her dad. He called as she was finishing up work every day he wasn’t in surgery. She put her earbuds in and answered the call.

“Hey, Pops. What’s going on?” She grabbed her tote bag and shoved the paperwork in.

“Hi, Peanut.” His warm voice came over the line. “Are you on your way to the subway?”

“I’m walking out now,” she replied, doing exactly that. “We’ve got a good ten minutes. How was your day?”

He started to talk and she locked her office, ready to head home.





Paul Huisman strode down the steps of the building that bore his name. Not his truly, as his father and grandfather would remind him, but rather of his family. He himself hadn’t proven that he was worthy of the name yet. As though a medical degree from Harvard wasn’t good enough, there was some other elusive thing he needed to find in order to make his family proud.

He’d done everything they’d asked of him. He’d gone to the right schools, done his residency at the best hospital, married the woman they’d asked him to, and produced a genius-level child, and they’d still given the position he’d worked for all his life to a woman ten years younger than him.

He hated Rebecca Walsh with a passion, and he was going to finally do something about it.

Perhaps what his family had been waiting for was a show of ruthless will. They were about to get it.

A limo pulled up in front of the building and he sighed. Hopefully it would move along quickly because this was the best place to catch a cab. He couldn’t stand the thought of getting on the subway. Being stuck in traffic would be far better than sharing space with the riffraff.

He would hire a car and driver, but his fucking father had cut him off after Miranda divorced him. One more failure in his family’s eyes. He couldn’t help it that the bitch hadn’t been able to handle his work schedule and needed some desperate, clingy man to make her feel alive.

He was going to ensure that the woman didn’t emasculate his son. He wasn’t sure how to do it, but he couldn’t stand the way Emmanuel whined and cried and was scared of his own shadow.

The door to the limo came open as a perfectly good cab drove by, ignoring Paul’s outstretched hand.

The driver of the limo was a big man whose tailored black suit looked barely large enough to encase his muscular body. He wore a black hat and hustled to move around the car. “Dr. Huisman?”

He pulled his hand back down. “That’s me.”

“My employer would like to have a moment of your time.” The driver wasn’t Canadian. Not at all. That accent was pure Boston, and not the educated kind. He’d spent years in Massachusetts studying, and he knew a Southie when he heard one.

“Your employer is?” If his father had sent a lawyer, then he’d likely discovered the plot against Rebecca Walsh and his whole life might end here and now. Nausea threatened. He had no idea what his father would do if he figured out how he’d planned on getting rid of his golden girl.

Still, he managed to remain calm. Perhaps his father had somehow discovered the missing money and tied it back to Walsh and wanted to discuss how to fire her. If he could get the bitch thrown in jail, it would be all the better.

The driver opened the door and he glimpsed a man he’d never met before. Definitely not a lawyer. Lawyers wore suits, not skinny jeans, short-sleeved button-downs with bow ties and suspenders. The man in the limo looked like he’d walked straight out of a hipster modeling session right down to the IPA he held in his right hand.

“Hello, Dr. Huisman. Why don’t you let me give you a ride,” the man with the dark hair said. “We can talk along the way. I believe we have some mutual interests, and you’ll find we can help each other out. You’re interested in eliminating Rebecca Walsh so you can take her place, correct?”

Fuck. This might be a trap, but he was going to have to find out where it led. Someone definitely knew about his plans. He had to get into that limo if only to find out how much this stranger knew. Besides, he wasn’t sure the massive driver would take no for an answer. He glanced around to see if anyone was watching.

“Dr. Huisman, we’re totally safe. I assure you I know exactly where Dr. Walsh is, and she won’t be a problem. If you’re worried about your father, I can tell you exactly how to handle him. Did you know he’s got a mistress in Montreal?” the man asked.

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