Page 46 of Smoke Screen
“We don’t believe it.”
Liar.If they didn’t, she’d have her laptop by now. “It sure sounds like it. Considering I’m locked out of the office and can’t even collect my personal belongings. Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?”
“Noneof us think you were involved.”
“Why am I being suspended, then?”
He drew a long breath, the sound grating on her.Hewas frustrated? Please.
“You’re not beingsuspended. Think of it as a paid vacation until the frenzy dies down.”
What a load of baloney. “I’d like to speak with President Thompson.”
“No, Maddy. He asked me to convey the message. As soon as this gets cleared up, we’ll bring you back.”
Wasn’t that so incredibly generous? But, really, what did she expect from them? What right, after the FBI had questioned her, did she have to feel betrayed? Still, it stung.
She’d worked so damned hard. Weekends, nights, whatever it took. They’d taken a chance on her and she’d wanted to repay them. After all of that, how could they think…
“Maddy?”
Something in her throat caught, and tears bubbled in her eyes. Dammit. “I’m here,” she croaked.
“I’m sorry, Maddy,” he said, his voice so matter-of-fact that somehow she doubted he was sorry at all.
“I’ve given everything I have to this place, Frank. You know it. The Thompsons know it.”
And now, after she’d done all she was supposed to, every last thing that had been asked, she wound up persona non grata.Shewas the disappointment?
“They’re getting a ton of pushback from the family.”
The family. “Meaning Louis Squared?”
Louis Squared. The nickname the staff had given Louis Pierre Senior and Junior. They’d yet to come up with a nickname for Louis III, Junior’s son.
“Yes. Obviously, they want the items recovered. Senior is devastated. He designed those pieces for the First Lady. They’re worried about the stress and his health.”
How was that her fault? If she’d been involved in the theft maybe, but she was innocent.
Frank didn’t want to hear that, though. Obviously, none of them did. They wanted a quick resolution and she gave them a handy target.
Fine. She’d prove her innocence, and they’d have to apologize.
She lifted her chin. Forced her mind to focus on the next thirty seconds. She’d hold her tongue, strap on a happy face, and do whatever it took to keep everyone happy. Good Girl Maddy. That was her.
“Just to be clear,” she said, “I’ve done nothing wrong. I guess I’ll speak to you when this is all over. If you would, please call security and get me into my office.”
RetrievingMaddy’s shoes from a pissed-off reporter turned out to be more fun than Phin expected. Wasn’t every day he could threaten an asshole—and his network—with a lawsuit for stealing a woman’s personal property. Why it took suing someone to get anything done, Phin never understood.
What the hell ever happened to kindness? To a little freaking compassion?
Still shaking his head, Phin stood in the lobby of the Thompson Center waiting for Maddy, who’d obviously gotten hung up. How long did it take to retrieve a laptop?
He glanced out the windows where the pack of reporters waited. Not going out that way. There had to be an emergency exit or something.
His phone rang. Zeke’s ringtone.
He slid it from his front pocket and punched the screen. “Hey.”
