Page 8

8

G abby opened the door to the accounting firm and made her way down the hall to her office. Jackie rushed to her side and scanned her from head to toe, handing her a cup of chamomile tea.

“Didn’t I tell you to go home and relax? You’re a sight for sore eyes. Your meeting with Mr. Wilkinson starts in thirty minutes and you appear as if you just rolled out of bed,” Jackie nagged as she followed her into her office.

“A couch.”

“What?” Jackie asked.

“I never made it to bed. I fell asleep on the couch. I hardly slept a wink last night,” Gabby admitted.

“Why ever not? You’ve got a tiny human to consider besides yourself.” Jackie mothered her as she went to the fridge and pulled out a yogurt. “Sit, eat and let me straighten out your outfit.”

Gabby picked up the spoon, shoveled the food into her mouth, and drank the tea. Jackie clucked at her when she realized Gabby buttoned her shirt wrong and dressed her like a kid. When she finished, she started feeling better as she headed to her private bathroom, brushed through her hair and applied her makeup. With five minutes to spare, she took a few deep breaths and practiced what she planned to say if asked about those files. Once she felt confident, she returned to her office, grabbed her computer and a notebook and headed to Mr. Wilkinsons office.

“Come in, Gabby,” he greeted and walked from behind his desk to join her at the sofa and chairs sitting to the side in his office. He gestured for her to take the couch and he sat across from her.

“Good morning,” she replied while she set her computer on the table in front of her.

“I understand you managed to get Mr. Landsford’s files up to date and the clients seem happy. Did you run into any issues?” he asked while his assistant brought him a coffee and Gabby a cup of tea. She pretended to sip it before setting it on the table. She didn’t know who to trust.

“I’ve gotten through most of them. It seems the last two files he coded, and I can’t seem to break them. Do you know who the client is? Maybe I can check their records against Mr. Landsford’s?” she asked while she watched his body for clues. Mr. Wilkinson stayed completely relaxed and sipped his coffee.

“I'll contact them today to see if they can share access. If you recall, you signed an NDA. Our clients expect confidentiality,” he reminded her.

“Of course.” She nodded her head. “I sent over the other files to your clerks and I’m leaving for a prenatal doctor’s appointment at one. I’ll come in onSaturday to make up the hours,” she offered.

“Nonsense, you’re always the first to work and last to leave. Take the rest of the day off and rest up. I insist.” He leaned forward and handed her the cup of tea. “You seem more tired than usual.”

“The baby started moving. Apparently, she or he must be part night owl.” She set the cup back down. “Thank you for the tea. I’m afraid Jackie gave me some when I walked in the door. I’m watching my quota for the day or I’ll need to know every bathroom’s location within a fifty-mile radius.” Gabby chuckled softly as Mr. Wilkinson returned her smile. “Did you need anything else?”

“No. I believe I got everything I needed. Have a wonderful day.”

He rose and returned to his desk as she gathered her items and left. Her heart hammered in her chest as she walked back to her office.

“For Pete’s sake, you appear as if you’ll drop at any moment. Why don’t you call the doctor and see if they have an earlier appointment?” Jackie pressed.

Gabby’s hands shook as she placed everything in her briefcase. “I’m fine. It’s only a couple of hours,” she reassured her friend. Gabby sat at her desk and watched the clock tick down the hours until she left.

Mr. Wilkinson watched as Gabby picked up her things, leaving the beverage. His mouth firmed as he turned on his computer and saw where she logged into the accounts, proving how much time she spent on each. She logged in on the files Landsford swore he erased before they killed him. He went down the time stamps when he noticed she hit the hidden file.

Sitting back in his chair, he rubbed his chin. Taking out his personal phone, he dialed the number and waited for a beep.

“She knows. She leaves today at one. Make it appear as an accident.”

Mr. Wilkinson felt bad. He liked Gabrielle Hutchins, but he loved his comfortable life even more.