Authors: Crista McHugh
Back to business. She’d taken a moment on Saturday afternoon to log into the foundation’s bank account and confirmed that Tre had deposited the checks like he said he would. She was hoping they would’ve cleared by today so they could start fulfilling their mission. But when she logged onto the account this morning, the balance had read only three thousand dollars.
Kiana blinked several times to see if she was missing a couple of zeroes, but no matter how much she stared the screen, the number didn’t change.
“Sherita,” she called, her voice an octave higher than normal. “Come over here and take a look at this.”
Her friend dashed to her side and peered at the screen, her brows drawn together. “Is there something wrong at the bank?”
“I have no idea. I know the money from the gala was deposited on Saturday.” She clicked on the account for more information. Sure enough, there was a long list of checks that had been deposited two days ago.
But it was the two hundred and seventy five thousand dollar withdrawal this morning that captured her attention and made her want to vomit.
Sherita picked up the phone and shoved it into Kiana’s hand. “Girl, I’d be calling them right now to find out what happened to your money.”
It wasn’t her money. It was the foundation’s. It belonged to all those kids her father wanted to protect by giving them proper helmets and pads. It belonged to those who genuinely needed it, not her. And yet, when she got someone from the bank on the line, she said in a shaky voice, “This is Kiana Dyer of the Marshall Dyer Foundation, and there seems to be a problem with my account.”
The person on the other line answered her questions. But as the information starting rolling in, her stomach was wracked with dry heaves.
Someone with access to the account had withdrawn the money.
And that meant either Denise or Tre.
***
Frank had just stepped out of the shower when his phone rang. The caller ID listed Kiana’s name, and he picked it up, hoping to hear the sweet, sexy drawl in her voice as she suggested they meet up later this afternoon.
Instead, he heard a tight note of panic in her voice. “Frank, do you know where Tre is?”
“No, why?”
A muttered curse answered him, and the muscles along his neck tightened.
“Kiana, what’s wrong?”
“I need to find Tre.”
“Is something wrong? Your mom—?” He caught himself. Kiana hadn’t shared her birth mother’s past with him, and he wasn’t quite sure if she thought of Mrs. Dyer as her mom.
“No, Denise is fine.” A sharp inhalation filled the line, and he pictured her biting her bottom lip the way she did when she was trying to make an important decision. “It has to do with the foundation.”
“Can I do anything to help?”
“I—”
“Don’t cut me out,” he interrupted the moment he heard a note of hesitation in her voice. “I’m as committed to it as you are.”
“I know, which makes this mess all the more complicated.” She sighed. “Come to my office, and I’ll fill you in. I don’t want to talk about it over the phone.”
“I’ll be there as quickly as I can.”
“And Frank, if you can get a hold of Tre, I’d appreciate it.”
“Will do.”
He hung up and got dressed in record time while calling Tre’s cell three times. The third time, he left a message. “Tre, this is Frank. Kiana’s worried about you. Give her a call when you get a chance.”
There. Nothing too extreme, even though he wanted to throttle his friend for making Kiana worry like that. Just a message that would hopefully convince Tre to call his sister.
But when he arrived at Kiana’s office, the furrowed lines on her face revealed that Tre still hadn’t called. The dark circles smeared under her eyes told him she’d been crying hard enough to ruin her makeup, something he’d never seen her do. The confident, collected woman he’d known was gone, and in her place stood a frazzled woman near the breaking point.
She rushed into his arms. “Thank God you’re here. I don’t know what to do.”
“Start from the beginning, then.” He placed a kiss on her forehead and led her to the sofa.
“Tre took the money.”
He rubbed his ears, wondering he’d heard her correctly. “Tre did what?”
“The money from Friday night—it’s gone.”
His gut dropped like he’d just inhaled a dozen hot dogs in less than a minute. “But you checked the account on Saturday and said he’d deposited the checks.”
“He did, but someone withdrew almost all the money from the foundation’s account this morning. Only three people have access to that account. Me, Denise, and Tre.”
Images of her birth mother’s mugshots flew through his brain. Extortion. Fraud.
One glance at her distraught face, though, silenced any doubts before they could come to fruition. The Kiana he’d come to know wouldn’t stoop to such measures. He’d witnessed her passion and dedication to the foundation enough to see she’d never be the one to steal from the children she wanted to help. It was the one thing that encouraged him to step up his game when it came to the fundraiser, and it was one of many things he’d come to love about her.
Love
.
Holy shit. That word caught him off-guard. But as soon as he admitted to himself, his chest filled to the stretching point with the emotion. He’d fallen in love with her somewhere along the way, and it was just now hitting him like a linebacker blitzing a quarterback from the blindside.
“Have you spoken to Denise?”
She shook her head, and two tears streamed down her face. “I don’t want to upset her.”
“And are you certain Tre took the money?”
She nodded. “Ninety-nine percent sure. But why would my brother do such a thing? I know there’s always been a bit of a rivalry between us, but this was our dad’s dream.”
Frank rubbed his thighs and stood. Suspicion snaked down his spine and mingled with the chill forming in his bones. Tre had asked him not to mention that he’d been cut from the team, but this was one secret that didn’t deserve to be kept under wraps. “Tre was let go from the team on Friday.”
Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
“He’d asked me not to say anything until after the gala, but if you’re looking for a motive, you have one.”
She winced like a person forced to accept the painful truth. “Be that as it may, we still need to find him.”
“I left him a message to call you.”
She gave a bitter laugh. “Great. It’ll be mixed in with the dozen phone messages and texts I’ve sent him.”
“Did you go by his place?”
“Sherita did. His car was missing.”
He paced the room several times, still wiping his damp palms on his jeans. “Then you need to play hardball.”
Kiana rose from the sofa and stopped him. “What are you talking about?”
“If the press gets hold of this, they’ll have a field day dismantling the foundation, and they’ll have no trouble pointing the finger at you based on your birth mom’s history.”
Her eyes widened, and she stumbled back. “How did you know—?”
“My brother hired a private investigator to check you out.” He lowered his head, unable to bear the hurt and betrayal in her eyes, and tucked his hands into his pockets. “I told him none of that mattered to me, but he thought I should be careful before getting too involved.”
Her jaw hardened, but she simply nodded.
“If it makes any difference, I stopped when I read the article—” He stopped and cursed under his breath. “Damn it, Kiana, I didn’t need to read it all because none of it mattered to me. I know you, and I shredded the rest of the files without looking at them. But I thought you should know that.”
She stood and stared out the window, her arms crossed over her chest and her back to him. “So what are you suggesting I do?”
“Call the cops.”
Chapter Sixteen
Kiana’s breath caught, amplifying the pounding of her heart through her overinflated chest. “He’s my brother, Frank.”
“I know, but you have to do something now before he runs, leaving you to clean up the mess.” Frank closed the space between them and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I know it’s a hard thing to do, and if it was one of my brothers, I’d feel the same way, but you have to hold him responsible for his actions.”
“But if I turn him over to the police, he’ll be arrested, and the foundation will still be hurt.”
“Not if you can recover the money.” Frank cupped her cheek and lifted her chin. “The longer you wait, Kiana, the worse it’s going to look in the end. You can do this. And I’ll be right here beside you until the end.”
She wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry. He was throwing her words back at her. Only now, it was a far more serious situation than a simple twirl around the dance floor. And yet the determination in the set of his shoulders told her he wasn’t going to abandon her. As angry as she’d been to learn some private investigator had been digging up all the sordid details of her past, the emotion had waned when Frank confessed to shredding the papers without reading them all. He didn’t care about her past, and he was standing here beside her when trouble came knocking at her door.
She pulled his hand away from her face and nodded. “Then hold my hand as I do this.” She added in a soft whisper, “Please.”
He laced his fingers through hers and gave her a sympathetic smile.
Her fingers shook as she dialed the number for the police. Her voice didn’t fare much better when she spoke to an officer, who said he’d contact the FBI with her information and get them involved.
By the time she hung up, she wanted to vomit. She was no better than Joseph’s brothers in the Bible. She’d turned on her brother. She’d basically asked the cops to arrest him, just like she’d done to Malcolm. And she doubted Tre would ever forgive her.
The only thing that kept her grounded was the solid, firm hand wrapped around hers. Frank was still there with her. And when she was finished, he pulled her into his arms and held her close. “I can only imagine how hard that must’ve been for you, but you did the right thing.”
“I hope you’re right.”
She had no idea how much time passed, but the sharp ring of her phone jerked her back to reality. She glanced at the screen, offering a silent prayer it was Tre, but saw Denise’s number instead.
“What’s this about Tre taking money from the foundation?” her stepmother asked as soon as she answered.
A slew of cuss words rolled through her mind, but she dared not utter them in front of Denise. “How did you hear about that?”
“It was on the news, along with a request to call the Georgia Bureau of Investigation if he’s seen. I thought I’d dreamed it up, but someone from the FBI called me as it was airing.”
Her stomach roiled, and she closed her eyes to keep the nausea from taking over. How had the media gotten wind of it? And worse, how big a hit would the foundation take because of Tre’s actions? “I came into work this morning to find a significant chunk of the money from Friday night was missing from the account, and only the three of us have access to it.”
“Lord Almighty, what has that boy done now?”
Kiana filled her in as best she could, adding in the fact he’d been cut from the team and was now unemployed. It gave him a motive, but why did he take so much? “At least there’s one small silver lining to all this.”
“And what’s that?” Denise asked.
“The money from the online auctions still hasn’t been deposited into our account, so we still have something to give to the kids.”
“Oh, sweetie,” Kiana’s stepmother said. “I would come over there and give you a big hug, but I was told to wait here until some FBI agent arrived to question me.”
“I’m so sorry about that, Mama. I know you wouldn’t take a dime from the foundation.”
“Don’t apologize, dear. It’s all part of the process.” A faint chime sounded in the background. “Speaking of which, I believe the agents are here.”
Kiana looked up to find a man and a woman in suits standing in the doorway of her office. “Same here. I’ll let you know if I learn anything.”
“Stay strong.” Denise hung up, and Kiana faced the visitors.
The man held out a badge. “Special Agent Phillips, FBI. This is Agent Sculler from the GBI.”
The woman held up a different badge with the state of Georgia embossed on it.
Kiana managed to stand, even though her knees wobbled under her. Thank God Frank was there to steady her. She extended her hand to them. “Kiana Dyer. Thank you for coming.”
The afternoon passed in a blur as the agents questioned both her and Frank. They answered as truthfully as possible, but it didn’t stop the agents from confiscating both her laptop and her work computer as evidence. At one point, Agent Sculler stepped out of the office to speak to Sherita. By the time the agents left, night had fallen, and the Atlanta skyline twinkled outside her window.
She rested her head on Frank’s shoulder. “I’ve had to give testimony more times than I’d care to admit, but this was the hardest.”
“How so?” he asked, pulling her into a hug.