Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

I’m not awoken by my alarm, but by a phone call. When I groggily open my eyes and fish my phone off the bedside table, I find it’s Mr. Bosley.

“Hello?” I ask sleepily. It’s only six in the morning, and I’m not even due in for another three hours.

“Ms. Dockett!” His frantic voice nearly blows my ear off. “I need you to go into the office right away and call the police!”

I sit up in bed. “What?”

“Did you not hear me?” he roars. I pull the phone away from my face and cringe. “Go and call!”

“O-okay,” I manage. “I’ll get dressed right now and head over.”

I throw on my nearest clean clothes and quickly neaten myself up, using some dry shampoo on my hair, and hurry out the front door. I wonder what happened that Mr. Bosley needs the police?

He could have just called them himself. I groan as I get into the car, still trying to shake off sleep.

By the time I get to the office, there’s only one or two other cars in the parking lot. Neither of them is the black Escalade, thank goodness.

Once I’m inside, I call the police phone number. Since it’s before business hours, though, I get sent to a non-emergency line, which then goes to voicemail.

“Damn it.” I guess I’ll need to call 911 if I want real help—but is whatever happened to Mr. Bosley serious enough for that? He didn’t sound like he was injured or in immediate danger.

Then the office door bangs open, and the devil himself steps inside. Mr. Bosley’s not wearing a tie, which is highly abnormal, and his shirt is wrinkled with the sleeves halfway pulled up. He sees me on the phone and stops dead.

“Put it down, Ms. Dockett!” he hisses, and I just stare at him, unsure if I should obey his previous order or his current one. Do what he says . “Ms. Dockett!”

I slam the phone down. “What’s going on? What do you need the cops for?”

Mr. Bosley closes the door and locks it behind him, then creeps over to my desk.

“There are people after me,” he says quietly. “That woman isn’t named ‘Mrs. Smith.’”

No shit, Sherlock.

“When I woke up, half of my beautiful yard was torn out, like someone went on a rampage with a tractor.” He leans in closer and whispers, “It’s a message, I’m sure of it.”

Instantly I think of the black car. Was that a message from Mrs. Smith, too?

“Fuck,” I hiss, and Mr. Bosley gives me a surprised look. “They’re the ones who have been following me!”

“Following you ?” He shakes his head. “You couldn’t possibly interest them.” He stands up straight again. “I’m not going to let this slide, though. That bitch can’t intimidate me. But we’re not going to involve the police, either. If it’s who I think it is, then we have to resolve this ourselves.”

We ? I’m not sure what part he thinks I play in this, but I want to get as far away from it as possible.

“Okay,” I say, leaving the phone. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to fight back.” Mr. Bosley glares at me. “I’m not going to let myself be bullied by some… some…” He splutters as he searches for an insult, but he must not be able to think up anything good because without another word, he spins around on his heel and storms back out the way he came.

That was strange and unusual. Now I’m at the office and it’s not even seven o’clock.

I decide to head home, take a shower, and get ready like I normally would. It’s been too long since I was able to go on a run, and I wonder briefly if Mr. Bosley would even notice if I didn’t come in again today.

After getting fully ready for a normal day, I return to the office to find it empty. As I expected, my boss doesn’t come back.

I wonder what he’s doing to get his revenge on Beatrice. I have a feeling that he’s far, far deeper into something nasty than he wants to admit. I just hope that by extension, my shoes aren’t also covered in shit. I’ve done too many things over the last few weeks I surely shouldn’t have, and a shiver ripples across my skin at the idea I might have been a part of whatever scheme Mr. Bosley cooked up.

The invoices. The inventory. The fixed spreadsheets. Fuck.

I’m ahead on my work, so I decide to start an investigation. I need to know what Mr. Bosley’s been doing, and how I might now be caught up in it.

I spend most of the day looking through the files for whoever this Beatrice is. I flip through paper after paper, searching all over for her name. Surely, he must have some evidence somewhere about who this woman is.

Instead of finding the incriminating document I’m hoping for, I stumble across even more invoices. One in particular shows a huge shipment to one of our warehouses, and a name I don’t recognize as the warehouse manager, though I’m pretty sure that guy’s name is Doug.

Then, a little farther down, there’s yet another shipment. And another one.

I don’t know a lot about the business, but I’ve picked some things up during the years I’ve worked for Mr. Bosley. The biggest orders he ever makes are ten or twenty units. These show hundreds of units, delivered to an address I don’t recognize. All of them have been billed and paid for, even though the orders add up to hundreds of thousands of dollars. I didn’t think Mr. Bosley had that sort of raw cash on him, and I know the business hasn’t been growing nearly fast enough to justify that.

What is he doing? Is he funneling money for her? Are these shipments even real?

My phone buzzes, and I look down to find it’s Leon.

Hey love, can I take you out to lunch?

I check my watch, and even though it’s about one o’clock, I don’t think Mr. Bosley is coming back. I desperately need a break from whatever is going on here, so I gratefully accept.

Sure. I’d like that.

Leon asks me to meet him at the food truck pod, and when I show up, he kisses me with surprising ferocity. When he puts me back down again, he points out all his favorite places to eat. It’s too far for me to get here from work and back on my usual lunch hour, so I’ve never tried it before. But today I doubt anyone will even notice I’m gone.

“So how’d you get the time off to go out with me?” Leon asks, sipping his drink and making a lot of noise doing it. It’s funny how the werewolf side of him still fully exists when he’s in his human form.

“Oh. Apparently, someone vandalized Mr. Bosley’s house.” I narrow my eyes and lean forward. “He thinks someone’s after him. First, he had me call the cops, then told me not to call the cops. He was furious. After that, he just left and didn’t come back.”

A strange look crosses Leon’s face—almost like he’s not surprised to learn this information.

“Leon?” I ask, a nervous tone to my voice. “What do you know about this?”

When he turns away and rubs the back of his head, I know something’s wrong. What has he done?

“Leon,” I repeat. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“It wasn’t me,” he says at last, still not making eye contact. “It was Eli. He was gone last night. Took the truck and just left. When he came back, he was covered in dirt. We grilled him, and he confessed that he went wolf at your boss’s house and, uh, trashed it.”

My hand flies to my mouth. Fuck. “ Eli did this?” I repeat, still not sure I understood him properly. The realization crashes over me that Eli has just set off a potentially terrible chain of events. “Mr. Bosley thinks that the scary lady is after him, that it was some kind of message from her. He said he was going to stand up to the ‘bullies,’ whoever they are.”

Leon’s eyes go wide. “Wait, what? Some scary lady is after your boss?”

I nod quickly. “There’s been a car following me, too. I think it’s related. It happened the night that Mr. Bosley asked me to—” I stop myself. I can’t possibly tell Leon what he asked me to do—and what I did.

“He asked you to do what, Tiff?” He’s stern now. “Are you involved in this somehow?”

A whimper comes out of me against my will. “I think I might be. He had me ‘fix’ the books. He also had me sign for some big orders, which I never do. And then today I found these receipts that didn’t make any sense. Hundreds of units delivered to the warehouse, but I saw no evidence that they ever showed up.”

I collapse to the table, realizing just how epic of a fuckup that was. Beatrice must have known, somehow, that I’d been pulled into his lie, and now she’s keeping tabs on me, too.

“Money laundering.” Leon has a look on his face like he could kill. “Your boss pulled you into his money laundering scheme.”

Money laundering . So much more makes sense now. Oh, shit. I can’t believe I fell for it, that I let Mr. Bosley bully me into becoming a part of this.

I’m so stupid.

“But how did Beatrice know that he asked me to sign off for him?” I ask helplessly.

“Maybe she bugged your office.” Leon’s eyes are daggers now. “He’s being watched, and so are you.”

“That means they know he’s coming to pick a fight now because of Eli.” I feel the telltale clench in my chest, the tightening of my throat. “Is she part of the mob, Leon? Are they going to kill me?”

Leon reaches across the table and covers my hand with his. “Hey. Tiff. Come back to earth for me.” He lets out a deep breath, and then sucks it back in, reminding me that I need to breathe. I close my eyes and attempt it, counting between inhales and exhales. But I can’t tamp down the rising fear that Eli has royally fucked over not just my boss, but me, too.

“Why?” I demand. “Why did Eli do that?”

“Why?” Leon looks confused by my question. “Because Mr. Bosley’s an asshole, and he deserved it.”

I gape at him. “That doesn’t mean he should have gone beast on my boss’s house!” I’m breathing too fast. “And why Eli? He hates me.”

Leon looks at me like I have antlers. “He doesn’t hate you. Not at all. Why would you think that?”

The panicky tears are breaking free. “It’s obvious! The way he acted yesterday, like I was a huge pain in his ass.” I sniff.

“Yesterday?” he asks.

“When they were following me, I went to the work site and Eli was there. He was...” I scramble for the right word. “I don’t know. Mad at me, or something.”

Leon just shakes his head. “It’s not what you think, Tiff. Eli bonded to you that day, too, you know. He’s just afraid. He struggles to tell people how he really feels.”

But I don’t care that he’s bonded to me. “Eli could have just told me,” I say, trying to hold back the sob threatening to burst out of me. “Why did he have to go and do this?”

“To show you he cares.”

It’s so idiotic, but somehow, I believe it. That’s why he asked for Mr. Bosley’s name last night—he was planning this all along.

I pull out my phone, anger sweeping through me. At least anger is better than panic. “We’re going to work this out. Right now. Eli has to confess to Mr. Bosley what he did before it’s too late.”

Leon chews his lip as I type out a frantic message to Eli.

Why did you go after Mr. Bosley last night? Are you nuts??

My food gets cold while I wait for his response. Leon sits there silently, clearly ashamed of his part in keeping this from me.

Finally, an answer appears.

I did what needed to be done. He has no right to treat you like that.

I groan in frustration. Now Eli has created an even bigger problem, one that could potentially backfire on me in a dangerous way.

We have to talk. Now.

He responds immediately.

I’m at the state park. Meet me here?

It’s a strange place, but it will be neutral ground. I wonder why he’s there. I used to go to the state park almost every weekend to hike and enjoy nature.

I’ll be there in 20

If Leon were in his werewolf form, I think he’d have his tail between his legs the way he demurely takes my leftover food to the trash.

“I gotta go,” I tell him sternly, heading for my car. “I have to fix this mess.”

He grabs my hand one more time before I can go. “Tiff.”

I’m angry, but I have to relent a little at the sullen look on his face. He pulls me into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.”

I sigh and hug him back. I can’t resist how sweet he is, how good he smells, how comfortable he makes me feel.

“I think I love you,” he says at last, tucking my head under his chin. “Actually, no, I know I do.”

He’s confessing this to me now? As soon as he says it, though, I’m certain that I feel the same way. Maybe he made a mistake, but I can’t stay mad at him.

“I love you, too.” I bury my face deeper in his chest. “I know your heart is in the right place.”

“I understand that you’re furious at Eli, and you have every right to be—but the two of you are more alike than you think.” He lets me go and kisses me on the forehead. “And don’t let that stupid fuck of a boss of yours scare you. We have your back. Okay? You’re safe as long as you’re with us.”

I sigh and lean into him, hoping he’s right. But can my sweet, good-hearted werewolves really protect me from whoever is after Mr. Bosley and the hellfire he’s brought down on us?