Font Size
Line Height

Page 31 of Midnight’s Captive (Stroke of Midnight #2)

“What is your status, Mr. Cutter?”

Portia didn’t waste any time with pleasantries when Ash entered her office. He was so used to it that a deviation would be cause for concern.

He’d come to respect her too. She put in the work and asked intelligent questions. Sure, she still treated him like a peon and he never forgot that she held his and Hope’s fates in her hands, but he respected her.

If it hadn’t cost a lot of innocent lives, he’d say the bombing and its aftermath was one of the best things to ever happen to the Tremaine Corporation. He knew from his own role in it that her father had his fingers in some very unsavory pies. Portia, on the other hand, had a shrewd business mind and a definite plan for the direction of the company. She’d be good for the Tremaine Corporation—and if she was able to dig out all the rot, she’d be great.

If she hadn’t tasked him with unmasking himself, he’d love to help her turn the company around.

Wait. Why couldn’t he “discover” some of her father’s more heinous crimes and feed them to her?

Portia cleared her throat. He couldn’t keep her waiting any longer.

“Found a treasure trove of stuff,” he said, before he could change his mind. “But no sign of Leopold’s accomplice.”

Portia’s expression didn’t give much away. He watched her, curious how she would react.

She sighed. “What kind of stuff?”

Perfect. Now was his chance.

Mentally flipping through the files he’d discovered, Ash came up with five projects that seemed reasonable. Some were located in more easily accessible servers. Others would show that he’d spent serious time digging for them.

If she tackled any of them, she’d have already done more good than her father ever had.

“Want me to show you? Or send the files to your desk?” He’d prefer to show her the files.

If he made accessing them appear complicated, maybe she’d believe that he was working hard on her request.

“Show me,” she commanded.

Ash dropped into his chair. He fiddled with the keyboard, typing quickly, and digging into the system where he remembered the projects lived.

It took a few minutes to access a couple of them. With a flick of his wrist, the files were on screen. He split the screen, then split it again so she could see more than one file at a time. With a pinch and a flick, he filled the quadrants.

She leaned closer to watch what he was doing.

She may have earned his respect, but her presence at his back felt too much like a death threat hanging over him.

“I think your father’s assistant knew about some of these.” Ash reached toward the screen and circled two of the files. “These showed up in the same file structure as the other... information.”

He wasn’t brave enough to actually mention her newfound sister Dizzie. Not on Portia’s home turf. The whispers in the company hallway indicated that they still weren’t getting along. Ash wasn’t surprised. Even though she’d been unaware of what her delivery actually was, Dizzie had delivered the bomb that had actually killed Portia’s husband. Ash squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. He hated the role he’d played in that.

“What are the projects?” Portia asked.

This was his chance. “Best I can tell, one is a failed drug. The other has... something to do with organs. I think.”

“Organs? Is this the spare parts program? It’s being dismantled.”

Ash couldn’t tell if the distaste in her voice was due to the program or because Dizzie was the one undoing it. “No, it appears to be a different program. Um, used organs.”

“Another one?”

The horror in her voice almost made him smile. That she could sound so horrified, even after learning about her father’s twisted schemes...

He hadn’t expected decency from a Tremaine, but it appeared Portia possessed some.

“I think so. I haven’t spent any time with the file. I just found it.” Three months ago, but who was counting. He’d opened it—he’d opened all the files in case there was something he could use for leverage.

This one had been particularly disturbing. From what he understood, the seedy underbelly of the Tremaine Corporation had created quite a racket in the used organs market. People whisked right off the streets and into the organ market. He’d sent this file and the others to Mr. Tremaine’s assistant when he’d believed the other man was seeking leverage to bring the company down.

Ash sighed. That certainly hadn’t turned out the way he’d expected.

“Open it.” Her voice was resigned.

A few keystrokes unlocked and decrypted the file. Images spilled onto the screen. He averted his eyes. He’d seen them before. The gruesome pictures made him queasy.

Portia swallowed hard.

As heir to the company, Portia had been involved in the business since she was a child. Ash had always assumed that she was as corrupt as her father, but she genuinely appeared shocked by every new reveal.

“How could you be an executive and remain unaware of these programs?”

Oh, shit . He hadn’t meant to ask that.

Forcing himself to own the question he’d asked, he twisted around to see her reaction.

Her face pale and her jaw set, she gestured at the images. “You think I sanctioned this? Harvesting organs from indigents? From people too fucking sick or stoned to make rational decisions? Not to mention, their parts have to be in terrible shape.”

Her voice wobbled on parts. Interesting.

He filed that tidbit away. It might be useful someday.

“Well?”

Shit. She wasn’t going to let it go. He’d asked a brutal question—he owed her honesty back.

“Your role is way above my pay grade. And obviously, you’ve worked here way longer than I have,” he said. “I have no idea what happens up here. You say you didn’t do it? Fine, I believe you. But your name is on the building. You can’t blame me for thinking that you’re in charge of everything.”

“I didn’t know about this. Any of this.” Resignation coated her voice, as if she were becoming accustomed to the hits.

“I believe you.” He did.

“Thank you. But you’re right. With my father gone, these are my messes now.”

An apology from a Tremaine. He tried not to let his shock show.

She sighed. “You believe the other file is about drugs?”

“Yeah.” Ash closed the organ harvesting file and opened the other. “It looks like it started as a legit program for cyberlimb transplants but they discovered serious side effects.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Any other bad news?”

“Not yet. I haven’t fully decrypted all the files.” He had, but no need to show all his cards at once. Plus, she looked like she couldn’t take another hit.

“This is a nightmare.” She ran her hands through her hair, leaving the blond strands disheveled.

It was the first time he’d seen her stressed.

“What can I do to help?” Fuck! Had he really offered to help the woman holding his sister hostage?

“Keep digging and find out who buried these files.” She turned on her heel. The click of her heels was more of a stomp as she returned to her desk. “And locate the person who abetted my father’s assistant.”

Ash cleared the screen. “Which is the priority?”

“Both.”

Nope, that didn’t work for him. Ash pushed out from his chair and stalked to her desk. “You have to pick one. It takes hours to locate these files. I can focus on that or your original task. Or you can re-open my port.” He was playing with fire.

“You dare tell me what to do?” Her blue gaze raked over him, leaving an icy burn.

“I can’t do it all,” he blurted. It might have been lack of sleep, it might have been years of feeling restrained.

“Perhaps you should curtail your bar visits.”

His blood froze. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb. You’ve been out a number of nights lately.”

Blood rushed from his head, leaving him feeling faint. This was bad. Really bad.

He’d hoped no one had noticed his sudden affinity for Razor Jack’s. He tried to laugh it off. “Some days you just need a drink to unwind.”

“You suddenly decided you needed a drink in that part of town? Bullshit. I know what you’ve been up to.”

Despite the churning of his stomach, Ash forced his stiff muscles to relax and his feet to remain where they were. She couldn’t know why he’d been at Razor Jack’s.

Could she?

He’d surely be dead if she had the slightest indication of his plan.

“Just having a drink.” It took effort to keep concern out of his voice.

“The only reason to head to a bar that far out is a woman. Or a man.”

Relief hit like a punch. His heart started beating again. That was what she thought?

It was true, but still. Ash shrugged. “The place has good beer and pretty girls.”

“It’s a woman.” She paused and her gaze held his. “Which is interesting. There’s no report of any long-term relationships in your file. You’re either very discreet or you’re very into this woman.” She tapped her finger against her chin. “And that makes me wonder. What kind of woman would keep your attention that long? Pull you out into the open?”

Portia Tremaine was a very scary woman. What would stop this line of questioning?

Ash gave in. “Fine. There’s a woman. She works at the bar.”