Page 15 of The Fortunate Ones
“AND that’s my cue to leave,” I joked, pretending to stand up.
Before anyone could respond, my phone buzzed. I frowned at the name that popped up. Deshaun Demarcus, my former boss before I’d gone private. We hadn’t left on the best of terms, he hadn’t been happy I was leaving, and we hadn’t spoken since the day I’d turned in my credentials.
I felt five sets of eyes on me as everyone seemed to pick up my tension from the call.
“Wes?” Diego asked, concerned. His fingers were hovering over his own phone, like he was ready to fix whatever my issue was remotely. Which, he probably could. I smiled tightly.
“It’s okay, angel. Just my old boss.”
I hit accept. I was tempted not to, but whatever reason Deshaun had to call me probably wasn’t good and would be worth a listen.
“Wesley Hayes speaking.”
“Wesley, it’s Deshaun Demarcus.”
I squeezed Diego’s shoulder, letting him know everything was fine, and then quietly left the media room, closing the door behind me.
“Hi, Deshaun, it’s good to hear from you.” It was a little odd still calling him by his first name. I had spent years calling him boss or captain and the occasional sir, but I didn’t think I’d ever called him Deshaun to his face before. Old habits died hard, I supposed.
There was no doubt in my mind that this conversation wasn’t casual, but until he said otherwise, I had no intention of revealing my concern. I walked about halfway down the hallway. It wasn’t far enough to keep the nosy fucks I called family from listening in if they wanted to, but at least I’d likely see themcoming. Except possibly Brooks. He could be a ghost when he wanted to be. And his training with Il Fortunato had only made his already considerable skill more impressive.
“Same. How is everything going in retirement? I heard you went private?”
Technically, I had when I’d left the SEALs and started working for him, but since we’d been contracted by the military, it wasn’t the same as what Il Fortunato was. Less military operations, more . . . well, everything else.
“Mm-hmm,” I answered noncommittally. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Deshaun, he’d been a good boss to me, but a lot could happen in the time since I’d separated from his organization, so I had no intention of giving away more than I had to. Besides, we both knew damn well that Deshaun knew exactly what I was doing now.
Deshaun grunted when he realized he wasn’t getting anything from me, which, c’mon, he should’ve known that already.
“What can I do for you, Deshaun?”
That got a genuine laugh from him. “You were never one for bullshit, Hayes.”
I didn’t respond. There was no need.
“I’m calling as more of a courtesy than anything.”
“Okay . . .”
“Do you remember Charles Ramirez?”
I leaned against the wall, trying to place the name. It sounded familiar. “The accountant?”
“Yes, he was the head of the forensic accounting department for the last twenty years.”
There was something about Deshaun’s tone. “Was?”
Deshaun grunted, annoyed. “He left work early the other day, said there was a family emergency. He no-showed the next day. When we looked into it, we saw he had accessed youremployment file from his personal computer—records that are confidential and should not be accessible to anyone, especially on a personal computer. It shouldn’t have even been possible. We have tech looking into what happened, but . . .” As he rambled off excuses I decided the why didn’t matter. “We contacted his wife, who told us that Ramirez told her he was on a business trip. His phone is disconnected, his car abandoned in a nearby commuter parking lot.”
“I don’t get it. Why my personnel file?”
“We don’t know. He didn’t access anything else. Only that. His record with us was flawless. We looked into his finances and there’s nothing significant there. If he’s been compromised, they were extremely careful to cover their tracks. I have no reason to believe he has nefarious intentions, but at this point we can’t assume anything.”
I chewed on my lip, thinking. It was so fucking strange. I remembered Ramirez. I hadn’t had a lot of contact with him, but he’d been excellent at his job and always very friendly when we had talked. His wife used to make tamales every Christmas for fuck’s sake.
“Do you have any ideas on why he might be interested in you?” Deshaun fished when I didn’t speak for a minute.
“No. Have you checked his phone records? Both work and personal? Something must’ve happened to have him leave early and then try to find me.”
