Page 30 of Kodiak

Yeah, this woman is Xavier’s type to a T.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

LUNA

Demiand I broached the topic of me asking Marcum to look into things. She wasn’t thrilled or onboard, but she understood that as her best friend, it’s my right to search for retribution.

After all, she’s done the same thing for me on more than one occasion. When I pointed out that she can’t say one thing then do the other, she sorta relented. But since I didn’t outright tell her I already spoke to him about it, I’m expecting her to pull out one of her epic temper tantrums.

“Let’s talk about your assault,” Marcum insists, ripping off the band aid.

“W-what?” Demi sputters, turning an accusatory eye my way.

“Sorry, Demi. I needed an outlet and he was there when I broke,” I confess.

“Dammit, Luna. I wasn’t ready for this,” she accuses, wrapping her arms around her torso. Then in a subdued voice, she asks, “What do you want to know?”

Any guilt I feel about telling Marcum what happened subsides when I see how quickly she capitulates. I’m sure we’ll have words later about what I did, but the important thing to me is that she regains her power. Right now, she feels powerless and that’s simply not who my girl is, not at all.

“Lay the scene out for me and then we’ll get to the rest,” Marcum suggests, his tone full of empathy.

Her eyes glaze over as she relives the night that changed her opinion of humanity. I reach out and place my palm on top of her hand, reminding her that she’s not doing this alone. As long as I’m around, she’ll never face her demons without me stuck to her like glue. Like everything else in our life, we’ll have each other’s back.

“It uh…” she stops to clear her throat. She clamps her lips together holding back a sob. But the way her throat is bobbing, I know telling a virtual stranger is harder than she’s letting on. “We were celebrating. We closed a case that we’d been working on for two years. The guy was good, we had to do some intense recon on him in order to catch him in his lies.”

Marcum holds up his hand and asks, “You’re an insurance fraud investigator, right?”

“Yeah,” she answers, licking her lips.

Marcum nods his head then says, “Thank you for answering that. Continue, please.”

“Our target was good. Damn good. He had a doctor in his pocket that he was sharing his profit with. He was suing our client for a large chunk of change. Six point three million dollars to be precise. We knew he was lying about the extent of his injuries, but with a doctor reporting he would never be able to workagain, we had a hard time proving our case. He was never seen out in public without his wheelchair, witnesses claimed he had no feeling in his legs and whenever he would try to hold up his own weight, he’d fall. It was all bullshit. When we’d stake out his house, he’d always have the windows closed so we couldn’t see what he was doing inside.”

“How did you finally catch him?” I ask, now invested in this situation. “I mean, it sounds like he was almost an A-level actor or something.”

“We did some investigations on him and knew he had a certain type of woman he couldn’t resist. Thursday nights were his fantasy football nights. He was part of a league or whatever they call themselves and they’d meet up at a pub to watch the games. So we sent in our lady, and as we suspected she would, she caught his attention. Sheila didn’t let it phase her that he was in a wheelchair, she pretended like it didn’t even exist which made him more interested in her… if that makes sense.”

“It makes perfect sense. If he were really disabled and feeling less like a man, that’d be an added plus for him when it came to a woman seeking his attention,” Marcum excuses.

“How did Sheila figure things out and get the proof?” I ask, leaning closer to my bestie because I know we’re fixing to hit the harder topic.

“They exchanged numbers, had a few dates and eventually, he decided to invite her home with him. Once he got a few beers in him, he forgot that he was supposed to be immobile and got up to grab them another drink. She pretended to be playing a game on her phone and was actually recording him up and moving throughout the house without needing any aid.”

“Wow,” I say. I’m surprised because a man who took so many precautions to play the game he was playing, sure did let his guard down.

“Damn, she was good not letting on what she was doing,” Marcum says. “So, she what, turned the video over to y’all?”

“Yeah, as soon as she thought she had enough evidence, she emailed it to us and CC’d the home office. We were able to go before a judge and have the case thrown out of court. The owner of the company actually pressed charges against him to pay off all of the lawyer fees and court costs he’d acquired.”

“These investigations sound like they can be time consuming,” Marcum muses.

“Insurance fraud is a huge business for the criminal element,” Demi replies. “The schemes get more elaborate which is crazy to me, because when they’re caught, and they always end up being found out, they find themselves guests of the federal penitentiary. Seems it would be easier to just get a fucking job.”

Marcum shifts in his seat looking a tad uncomfortable where the conversation turned. Instead of broaching that subject, he orders, “So what happened when y’all went out to celebrate?”

“We were in high spirits. Happy to be done with this target so we could get on a plane the next day and fly home. Sheila has a little girl at home, so she declined going out with us and decided to book a flight for that night. I didn’t have anything urgent waiting for me, and the guys had been asking me to join them since I never did. I thought, what the hell. I wasn’t tired and didn’t want to go back to my room and be bored so I said yes to the invitation. Worst mistake of my life. There’s a reason I’ve always kept my personal life separate from my business one.”

“It’s okay, Demi. There’s no judgement here. You should be able to go out and celebrate a win without thinking something bad would happen to you. You worked side by side with these guys, and never thought for a moment they’d use your working relationship against you,” I conclude. “Our minds don’t automatically go in that direction when we think we know someone.”

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