The man laughed. “So murder isn’t a big stretch, but stealing millions is?”
Mason swallowed and tried to slow his frantic thoughts. “Okay. For the sake of argument, let’s say this is true. That Carl was working something big, and William was the brainpower behind it. Why would he order me to kill the man working with Carl if he’s that man?”
“I never said Carl was working on this. He’s just a pawn in William’s game. But if he has you believe Carl was involved and has you searching for someone else, it’ll throw you off his trail. Not to mention, make you focus on something where his name isn’t directly attached. He knows Carl is gone, and now he has you chasing a ghost.” There was a pause, and Mason was momentarily speechless while he waited. “We need you to confirm this, of course. ”
“Damn it! I didn’t sign up for this.” Oh no, this definitely changed things. A fucking lot. “How the hell am I going to get him to admit anything?” If William was even slightly smart, he’d have covered all his tracks.
“We’ll leave that up to you. We can’t take him out without knowing what he did or how involved he is.”
“That doesn’t help me.”
“Sorry. You have a job to do, and so do I.”
The phone went dead, and Mason threw it on his desk. How the hell did this get so big so fast? If he was being honest, he wasn’t too surprised about William being involved in something bigger than tampering with a small hedge fund, but it sure as hell didn’t make things easy for Mason.
When he’d found excessive billing on the fund William controlled, he’d thought he could dig up more wrongdoing and take it to the executives. He couldn’t go with something that’d just get the man a slap on the wrist. William was Edward Baxter’s son, for crying out loud. It’d take more than what he’d uncovered to push William out the door and leave his position free and clear for Mason. If William had orchestrated a major Ponzi scheme, losing his job would be the least of his worries. The man would be facing serious jail time.
Jesus, if William was stealing millions of dollars from investors and using one of the company’s most prestigious funds to do it, Mason knew he’d stumbled upon something huge. William was going down, but Mason had to be careful not to let the jerk take the company down with him.
Problem was Mason didn’t know how huge this scheme was, how deep it went...or who he’d be able to trust.
Chapter Eight
This was all kinds of fucked up.
It’d taken Mason hours to wrap his head around the latest development, and it had been a bitter pill to swallow. Years building a name for himself at this company, fighting his way up the corporate ladder, could all be obliterated. It wasn’t just the knowledge many people could be in on the wrongdoing, but that said illegal activity could bring down the entire fucking organization. If they were talking just a few million dollars and a few people, then Fieldstein and Baxter could pay investors back out of profits, even be able to pay fines while the key players were thrown in jail. But if this had been going on a while, the amount stolen could be astronomical. Not to mention what a scandal of this caliber would do to the company’s image.
It would cease to exist.
Mason had big aspirations, always had. When he’d stumbled upon William’s skimming money off the top of the fund he’d managed, Mason saw it as an opportunity knock out his competition and move up to the highest position he’d envisioned ever reaching at his firm. But he had no idea it could lead him down this path of professional destruction. Now everything he’d worked for could be gone, and if that wasn’t bad enough, he would be the one wielding the wrecking ball to crush his dreams. It was career suicide, and he knew it.
“There he is,” Rafe bellowed from across the empty club when Mason walked in. “Where’ve you been hiding?”
“Jesus, not you, too. Jedrek already chewed my ass out for being M.I.A.” Mason lightly punched Rafe’s shoulder when he reached him. Thank God he had the club. No matter how fucked up things got at the firm, he could seek solace here.
Rafe chuckled. “Doubt that, man. Jedrek doesn’t know how to get riled up. He’s the silent, brooding type.” He reached behind the bar and grabbed a beer. “Wanna drink?”
Mason shook his head. “I’m doing a scene with Shelby again tonight.”
Rafe’s eyebrows shot up. “So she’s coming back for more?” he asked as he popped open his beer. He took a swig while Mason watched and mentally gauged if he had enough time to drink one, too. He deserved one after the shitty day he’d had.
“Yeah,” he sighed. “Mr. Brooding himself is going to assist me tonight.”
Rafe’s grumbling sound wasn’t missed. “You gonna let him have some fun? I got cock blocked.”
“Get me a beer,” he muttered as he sat at the edge of the bar. Fuck it. He had time for one. Rafe grabbed a cold one, popped the top, and handed it to Mason. He stared before replying, “No. It’s her rule, man, not mine.” Though he was thrilled with her self-imposed guidelines. He took a long pull from his beer and relished the burn. If he didn’t have the scene tonight, he’d be partaking in a lot more than just one.
“And as her practicing Dom, you get to decide what’s best for her.” It felt like a challenge, and Mason wasn’t up for playing games. Not this kind of game anyway.
He glared at Rafe. “And as her Dom, I respect her boundaries, as I would with any sub. So would you. You know the drill, man. Quit trying to bait me.”
Rafe swore under his breath before taking another drink. “Sorry. You’re right. Been a helluva week. The alcohol shipment was short. On Tuesday, Nick knocked over a whole rack of beer mugs, breaking half of them, so I had to order more and get one of the other partners to sign since you weren’t around to approve the expense. Plus, one of the bouncers got knocked out last night by a jealous ex. Thank God he’s okay and not the suing type. I need a vacation.”
Mason groaned. “Damn. I’m sorry. You should’ve called me. I’d have been here anyway if my boss hadn’t put me on something that needed to be dealt with. But I’d have come running if you needed me.”
“Don’t sweat it. We all know that prick has been shitting on you.” He leaned over and tapped his bottle against Mason’s. “It’s all good.”
If only Rafe knew how wrong he was. Nothing was good, but Mason didn’t have the time to dwell on it right now. Tonight, he had Shelby to focus on. Tomorrow, he could go back to accepting his impending doom. He stood and grabbed his bottle. “C’mon. I’ve got a couple of hours before Shelby will be here. You can fill me in on the mugs and everything else you’ve spent money on this week, so I can update the accounting system.”
Rafe chuckled as he walked around the bar. “Told you we didn’t need to hire an accountant. You know just how an auditor thinks.”
“How many times do I have to keep telling you it’s not the same thing?” he asked incredulously.
“Quit your bitching and come use those Ivy League skills to balance our accounts.”
Mason followed him toward the closed-off area where their offices were, all the while thinking it was good thing he paid attention to his accounting classes in college. After the debacle at Fieldstein and Baxter, he just might need those damn skills to fall back on after all.